let's not forget about Till. . .

I'm trying to be good about taking pictures and videos of Tilley. No matter how much I try though, it isn't nearly as much as I had taken of Cole by this time.

So tonight, while Cole was upstairs getting ready for bed with Bill, I spent a little time taking some pictures of Tilley for you. She's already changed so much in 2 months.

We went for our 2 month check up a couple of weeks ago and she weighed in a little over 12 pounds and had grown another inch in two weeks time! She's picked up a tiny cold, which makes me nervous because I have no experience with wee ones with colds. Cole didn't have his first cold for awhile. . .but with a toddler in the house, poor Tilley is bound to be sicker more often.

Overall, she's a good sport. She waits her turn patiently and is very happy most days either being held or looking at a mobile when we can't hold her. She's laughing and cooing and sleeping better at night. I get about 4 hours at a time, which is a blessing. If only I could get her to sleep somewhere other than my chest. . .

Here she is tonight. . .check out those dark eyes!

And a video of her waving her arms and drooling. . .I'll understand if you skip this one. ;-)

settling in

Again, such a slacker. Life's been busy. . .sorry for not posting sooner.

I've gone back to work at the restaurant a few nights a week. Bill stays home with the kids and Cole really enjoys his alone time with Daddy. Tilley, on the other hand, has absolutely put her tiny foot down on eating from a bottle. She will truly go 5 hours at a time without eating. We've seen her eat from a bottle so we know she knows how. . .it seems to be just her will against her tummy. And she usually wins.

Secretly, this makes me very happy to come home and have her so excited to see me. . .if only because I'm food. On the other hand. . .when I come home on nights like this. . .Tilley is the only one happy. The others have had to listen to her cry most of the evening. It's been nice to get out of the house by myself. . .even if it is to go get yelled at by people who I swear have never been out to dinner in their lives.

On another front, I'm starting the job search again. I've gotten one bite on a position out in Springfield. Unfortunately, if I'm going to work at a college again. . .it's not going to be close. Our quaint, tiny colleges in the area are just financially not doing as well as others in Boston or more south. . .so there's nothing open to apply for. We haven't really considered moving to Springfield. . .but it can't hurt to go for an interview and practice. It's been a long time.

On the home front, things are going well. I don't feel that we've settled down to a routine with Till just yet. She still sleeps when she wants to, and refuses to sleep on anything but me. It's getting tiring. . .and I know the day where I let her cry it out is coming. I just hope it's easier than with Cole. If you remember, by the end of that experiment, we both were crying. . and he slept with me for another 2 months!

Here are a few pictures from our week:

Does he need some hair help, or what?

Helping me make cookies. . .

. . .and then painting. Why waste a filthy shirt? Might as well get it more dirty!



Trying on my shoes. . .

. . .and sweet Till.

With the great weather we had last week, Cole spent much of his days outside playing in the yard. The little girl next door became a quick buddy. They shared toys (well, she shared her toys) and chased each other for days. In fact, I heard a tiny knock on the screen door one day while Cole was napping, and it was the little girl banging. . .saying "Cole? Cole?"

I guess shoo-ing away girls starts earlier than I thought.

a chilly day at the park

It actually got up to 44 degrees yesterday, so we bundled up the kids and took them to the park! Here are some pictures. . .

And here are some of Tilley from the past week:

running. . .without being chased!

I had a breakthrough in my quest to whittle down my thighs. . .

I went running. Well, my workout started as walking, but ended running. And when I say running. . .that more or less describes the bounce, not necessarily the speed. But either way. . .it was activity.

We have the oldest working treadmill in the state in our basement. It's white, covered in Miami Vice-ish lettering and has a belt that is about 12 inches wide. It has an old pulse meter that you clip to your index finger. You turn a crank to incline the machine. The "handlebars" lost their spongy grip a long time ago and is now just exposed metal. If your arms hit the bars, it gives you an electric shock. It sounds like the subway when you turn it on. It's old, outdated, and seen better days but it works. . .just like me.

Yesterday, in the throws of a mommy melt down, I left Bill with the children and went to the basement. I started to walk. My iPod was blaring. . .I couldn't hear anyone yelling or screaming. It felt good. It felt liberating. I turned up my iPod a bit more. . .

I was listening to Dr. John's "Right Place, Wrong Time." I walked faster. "Off the Wall" by Michael Jackson came up next. Perfect. Magnet and Steel, Hollaback Girl, Jungle Boogie, even Xanadu. Yes, I own Xanadu. My playlists are. . .eclectic.

Anyway. . .the music is on the verge of hurting my ears and I turn it up even more. The treadmill sounds like a plane taking off. My thighs are burning. I start jogging. I can do this. I used to do this all the time. MJ is telling me to "straighten up my act and boogie down." I'm trying, MJ. . .I'm trying. It hurts in my chest. . .my knees. . .the back of my neck. . .my teeth. I'm sloppy. I keep getting electric shocks. My knees and ankles knock together. I keep running.

And then it comes. The rush of running through the pain. And I immediately felt better. Yes. I can do this. So I keep running. I run through one song, and the next and the next. I can't hear anything but the music and I feel good. I'm singing out loud. Playing the air drums. . .my mind starts wandering. . .

Bill set up this treadmill for me a long time ago. He tucked it neatly into a corner, put a DVD player and his old 12 inch TV/VCR combo (how's that for an old TV?) directly in front. He wanted it to be attractive for me to use. "The Young and the Restless even comes in down there." But it's also in the living room. . .on the couch. . .

I can see my reflection in the TV. I look good. Admittedly, the screen is dusty and dirty and that may have had something to do with it. But I don't care. It looks like I have good form. Every now and then I wander off the belt and almost fall. Ow! Another shock. I wonder for a second if the neighbors can see in the windows. . .

I started to look around the basement. It's filled with old hobbies and things I meant to get to. My bowling bag is staring at me. I used to bowl. Well. . .I used to enjoy bowling while drinking beer. Now those were good days, I think. I see a box of shells collected over years at the beach. My grandpa's banjo that I wanted to learn how to play. Scrap booking odd and ends. Cook books with recipes I meant to try. There are food dehydrators, crock pots, stock pots, and casserole dishes piled up in a corner waiting for recipes.

I watched myself run in the TV a bit more and thought that it would be smart to get back to some hobbies. . . instead of the "mom" hobby I've been engulfed in for 2 years. Soon Cole and I could go to kiddie bowling and I could work on my average again. . . join a league. I've certainly got plenty to scrapbook about. And if I could position a notebook somewhere on this treadmill to jot down more writing ideas. . .

It wasn't until I was seriously jamming to Styx's "Renegade" that I realized I'd run through my whole playlist. I quickly realized I was smelling burning rubber, too. How ironic. The treadmill and the electric plug were hot to the touch so it was time to stop. And when the music was off, the commotion upstairs instantly commenced. When it was all said and done, I'd run for about an hour. I couldn't remember a time that an hour felt so rewarding.

So I'll definitely make running part of my weekly routine. If for nothing else, than to leave the madness of what's upstairs. And I seriously recommend adding Dr. John and Off the Wall to your playlist. Okay, well. . .Off the Wall might be an acquired taste, but the Dr. John is essential.

That's enough of that. Here are some pictures I took of Tilley this week. . .she's already getting so big! She's smiling and laughing when you make faces at her. Cole's continuing to be the sweet big brother he's been so far. He kisses and hugs Tilley each morning but then could care less about her for the rest of the day. Fine by me.

She is giving us some trouble each night before bed, but Bill and I have now come to expect it. . .and it makes it easier to deal with.