Cookie Exchange Invitations

I've done lost my mind and decided to host my annual cookie exchange party.  Six weeks after I had Fern.  Crazy, I know. I just couldn't let it go.

Things are a bit simpler this year.  I made these invitations in just a few minutes.  My supplies: A few envelopes that I already had, card stock, printer (with colored ink), paper cutter, and a fancy computer program called Microsoft Word.  

Dinner is being catered by this quaint little pizza joint called Little Caesar's.  

The best part of all: Deb texted me, "are you doing your cookie exchange this year?  Do you want me to make your cookies for you?"  At first I thought, "no, how could I ask her to do that?!?"  Then, reality set in and I decided to let her make all my cookies.  It's going to be great!

Two Babies...

...one taking care of the other.

Play Date

Burl had a little play date this morning.  This might be his first time hosting.  My friend dropped her son off so she could go for a run-and I was happy to help so Burl could have someone to play with beside boring ol' Mama.  

The guys are just a few days apart and so similar.  Tools, grunting, cars-they loved it all!

There was opportunity to learn about sharing, a scary and new concept for us.  Once the concept was understood, the fun started.  

They spent a lot of time working (aka, banging) on the windowsill.  I couldn't get enough pictures!

During an innocent hug, both guys lost their balance and went tumbling on the floor.  Both boys reacted the same: they looked around, they grunted, they got up and kept playing.

I think this will work out just fine.  

Especially since I scored some tickets to an Avett Brothers' concert that sold out in 27 seconds during it all-my reaction being something like this girl's.  (Skip to 1:07)

What Burl Thinks of Fern

A question that we get asked a lot now is "how is Burl doing with Fern?"  I love that question.  I ask that of my friends who have more than one.  I love to know how sibling relationships develop.  

Now, let the eyes roll and the thoughts say "yeah right," but I'll tell you it's true.  I remember when my mom brought Joseph home.  I was 20 months old-the same age Burl is.  I was home with Grandma Polly and she told me that the baby was there.  I remember running for the door, down that hall to the outside.  She tried to get a jacket on me, but I remember thinking "I have to see him.  I have to see his whole body and make sure he's real."  It was mid-March and I ran out there.  My mom was holding him.  I pulled her down, she showed him to me, all wrapped in blankets.  I pulled them off and saw him.  My baby.  I mean, my mom's baby.  I was so excited.

That's not how it went with Burl and Fern, but it was close.  We were in the hospital room with just him.  The nurse wheeled in the baby and he went nuts.  Arms out.  Grunting.  He wanted to hold her.  He sat his granola bar down-which is saying a lot because brotha' likes his food.

He held her.  He cooed.  He kissed her and hugged her and might have squeezed her a bit too hard.  Then, he went back to the granola bar.  John and I traded glances and thought, "oh, that's Burl.  Loves his food."  Then, he did something we've never seen him do, he offered his food to Fern.  He tried to feed her a granola bar and we knew then that he was going to do well with her.

That picture up there-my favorite from the hospital.

He loves her.  One of the first things he does when he wakes up is check on her.  Where is she-what is she doing.  At least twice a day, he asks to hold her.  He sneaks kisses.  Goes for hugs.  Bounces her bouncy seat.  And by all means, does not like when she cries.  If I don't get up right away, he's pulling me and pointing towards Fern in a way that says, "Woman, she is crying.  You need to help her.  She's pitiful."

And I eat up with a spoon.  I don't want to jinx myself, but I couldn't imagine things going better.