my camouflaged cutie

Some things in life can not be hidden.

For one thing, time after time, my love for all-things-science keeps rearing its nerdy head. That would (hopefully) explain the focal point of today's fashion feature: Malcolm's phagocytosis-themed onesie.

Just to clarify for anyone that is unfamiliar, phagocytosis is the process in which one cell engulfs another. In this case, the big, blue cell is about to swallow the little, purple cell ... And the purple cell is thinking: "Oh, no!"

Totally dorky, but cute, right?

Hat: The Children's Place (thrifted for $0.50)
Onesie: CafePress ($10.00)
Shorts: Wonder Kids (hand-me-down)
Socks: Walmart (pack of ten for $6.00)
Shoes: Everlast (thrifted for $1.50)

a walk down memory lane

Yesterday was my brother-in-law's high school graduation party. While it is mind bending to simply accept the fact that he is a high school graduate, it is equally strange to recognize that it has been ten years since my own high school graduation!

Since having a child of my own, I have really noticed that time has this weird way of simultaneously flying and crawling along at a snail's pace. On one hand, ten years seems like a long time ... A full decade! On the other, it seems like only yesterday that I said goodbye to high school and all the drama therein. Even so, after all of the experiences that have come since then, it is somewhat difficult to put myself back in that moment ten years ago ...

What I do remember are three main things:

I remember being excited about going to a new place, on my own. As the only one from my high school heading to Latrobe, Pennsylvania, I knew that I wouldn't know any of my new classmates (and no one would know me), so it was truly a new beginning. It would be up to me, and only me, to find my way. I wouldn't have any of my old high school friends to fall back on. I couldn't just tag along and hope to connect through others ... I'd have to actually go out and get it done myself. A challenge, for sure, but one that I was ready to tackle.

I remember looking forward to studying my major. Originally, I had planned to study Communications, but, almost on a whim, changed my mind at my campus visit. It would be easier to start at Biology and change from there without losing any ground, our guide had insisted. She made sense, so I went with it and never looked back. As one of the earliest decisions I had to make, choosing a major was both fun and frightening. This one thing would impact so much of my college experience ... Science would certainly be no picnic. Chemistry (both introductory and organic), Physics, Anatomy and Physiology, Genetics, and many other difficult classes would follow. Could I handle them? I would have to ... And, looking back, I am so glad that I did!

Lastly, I remember the anxiety of leaving my then-boyfriend (my now-husband) behind. We swore that we'd continue dating, that we'd make it through four years of phone calls and weekend visits, but we knew that it wouldn't be easy. It wasn't. Probably even more difficult that my most demanding science class, our relationship would test us. It would test our trust in each other, our resolve to persevere through all of the difficult moments, and, probably most profoundly, our love ... A love that would grow from high school puppy love to something much deeper ...

All of these snippets of long ago, these three experiences that still seem so vivid, have shaped who I am today. As I sit in this current "now," I wonder how things will seem ten years from this point ... Again, on one hand, these coming ten years are a long distance to travel. On the other, they are merely a blink of an eye.

In either case, I am ready and excited to see just what they hold!

small potatoes

My little peanut is just that ... Little.

At his nine month doctor's appointment, it was determined that Malcolm is now in the 60th percentile for height and only the 6th percentile for weight! For any non-percentile readers out there, that means that he is taller than 60% of kids in his age group and only heavier than 6% of them. Although it certainly makes sense when you look at him, both of these numbers are a big drop from his six month visit (where he was in the 75th percentile for height and the 25th percentile for weight). While I'm happy as long as he is healthy, there is a small part of me that is disappointed when his numbers get closer to the average or when he begins to drop toward the bottom of the charts.

I know that a baby's growth and development isn't a race, but it can be difficult to avoid turning it into a competition. It's a thrill when your kid is taller, sleeps through the night earlier, rolls over sooner, or says a more complicated first word than another person's kid. Reactions from friends or family about a new milestone only add to the excitement ... Who doesn't like to hear that their kid is amazing? Gifted? Incredible?

Funny thing is, though, that milestones (aside from giving insight into the presence of developmental disorders) aren't really that big of a deal. At some point, every kid will reach them ... Each at his or her own pace.

Yet, why do we feel like our kid is better for getting there first?

I don't know if it is a societal thing, but there is this push to be the biggest and best at everything. I know from personal experience that, in anything I do, I strive to do it well. From mundane chores like making the bed or cooking dinner to wrapping a present or taking a photograph, I must give it my all. I must be the best that I can be. Anything less would be bothersome ... A disappointment even. Although I certainly don't want to be the kind of parent that puts undue stress on her children, I know that I will expect the best from Malcolm and any siblings that may follow after him.

There will certainly be situations in which "average" just isn't good enough ... But, then again, there will be times where "average" is okay, too.

Like right now.

Whether he is big or small for his age, Malcolm is perfect just as he is.

He is the perfect first child for us and we wouldn't trade him for all the extraordinary children in the world.

my little explorer

Now that he is mobile, Malcolm is constantly getting into everything ... And this "everything" that I speak of is not reserved to areas inside of the house, either. Indoors or outdoors, my baby boy wants to see (and touch and taste) it all.

During our recent family vacation to Florida, I made sure to bring a lot of cute outfits for the little guy. This one had been waiting in the wings for some time, and just seemed very appropriate given our lush, green surroundings. The whole day, I couldn't shake the thought of how cute it would be to get a picture of Malcolm in the middle of some tropical plants ... Too bad Malcolm had different ideas.

Instead of sitting still, he took off across the graveled walkway and attempted to climb the stairs ... Who ever said vacation was relaxing?

Polo shirt: Baby Headquarters ($6.00 as part of a 3-piece shirts/shorts set)
Shorts: Sonoma ($1.00 from the sale rack at Kohl's!)
Shoes: Old Navy ($5.00)

a happy father's day

When I first told him that he was going to be a father, I was met with a mostly blank stare.

"Here. Look," I said, thrusting the pregnancy test in his face and holding back my tears of joy and excitement. I had been waiting all day to show him. It didn't help that I had had the day off from work and was alone the whole time, just me and my big secret, ready to explode.

"What is this?" he asked quietly. "What does this say?"

"It says we're pregnant," I replied, lunging in to hug him. "We did it!"

He was still a little stunned ... Obviously at a loss for words as his mind processed the complexity and enormity of the situation. Even when he understood what I was telling him I realized that he still didn't quite get it. His mind was too busy processing all of the little details that come along with having a child:

How would we adjust to life not as a couple, but as a family?

How would we afford all the new expenses?

How would he be at being someone's father?

Looking back, I completely understand his lack of enthusiasm. I see now that there was an inherent difference between our treatments of the news: I was thrilled with what a new baby would bring and how it would enrich our lives ... And he was downright terrified.

I can in no way make generalizations for all men (just the one that I am married to), but my husband was utterly consumed by the fact that things would change ...

His wife would get fatter.

His house would feel smaller.

His free time would be cut shorter.

His wallet would become lighter.

Our life as we knew it would be totally different.

"What if I can't do it?" he asked me one night, deep into the pregnancy.

I assured him then that he could, that he would, do it ... And that he'd do it well. It might not gel immediately, and it would take some getting used to, but I married him because I knew he'd be a great father when the day came ...

And I'm never (well, hardly ever) wrong.

As Father's Day approached this year, it was so good to see him growing more comfortable and confident in his role as someone's dad. With each day, he, just like Malcolm, grew leaps and bounds. While he is not quite the "seasoned" pro yet, he is getting there. You need look no farther than the smile on the little guy's face to see that he absolutely adores his father.


And, you know what? I must admit that I do, too.

Happy Father's Day, Dearest.