The Turkey Sub Goes to School...

Today was Leah Mae's very first day of preschool. Just look at our little peach.

See that little yellow t-shirt she's wearing? That frumpy little school shirt? Well, I've been feeling all curmudgeonly today because, after attending the preschool open house, Sam instructed me, very explicitly I might add, that Leah was supposed to wear her school t-shirt on the first day of class. He rattled off this entire detailed explanation about how the teachers use them to keep track of the three year olds until they really get to know their class. Makes sense.... So, I begrudgingly dressed Leah for the first day in her class duds and strolled off to school. And guess who wasn't wearing their class t-shirts? Everybody else. Oh, except her teacher. She was wearing one, too. Poor Leah Lou. Twinners on the very first day with the teacher! I mean, talk about social suicide. As for Sam's instructions, well, they were apparently just part of some pipe dream he conjured up...

Can I just be completely honest for a second here and say that preschool sortof creeps me out? Cause it does. In a tiny, itty-bitty way. I think it's because everything is so warm and fuzzy that I feel like it's a little twilight zoney and can't possibly be real. For the most part, the over-the-top fuzz suits my fancy just fine, and I find myself getting sucked in and becoming the cheesiest mom on the block... but a small part of me feels all suspect and shifty about it.

I think I blame Ms. Lippy:

Don't pretend you don't know exactly what I'm talking about.

Her school is a precious little Christian academy that starts each day with a 20 minute "worship" in the form of singing, bible-ing and praying. Parents are invited to stay and participate and I'm happy to report that Leah tried to take over the entire event. I struggled to keep her in line for the first ten minutes, juggling baby Eve and getting all beet red and sweaty, and then the teacher looked over and gave her some jedi-mind-trick head-nod and Leah's eyes glazed over and she returned instantly to her seat for the duration. I think she's gonna do just fine.

Anyway! Here's the bell of the ball when I picked her up. She was over the moon to see me. For about 5 seconds. And then she realized I was there to take her away from school and I instantly became public enemy numero uno. I couldn't have been happier.

I luff her.

This Girl...

.... is 9 months old today (well, technically like 5 days ago when I started this post) and I realized that I have been absolutely terrible at documenting her little life. I was much better with Leah... poor second child. But, as most of you moms out there know, your documentation motivation goes the way of the birds with two chillins runnin' the house. So anyway, as I sit here this very moment, hand-fighting my cherubic little darling to keep her away from the Baby Eve cat nip that is my laptop, I wanted to share a bit about the one, the only, Teeny Tiny Tuna.

Firstly, Sam's cousin (and best friend), Kent, stopped by our house while he was in the city on business. Upon seeing Eve for the first time he said, "Whoa, she looks like the baby from that show 'Dinosaurs.'" I thought this was mildly amusing at the time. But then I google-imaged that baby dino and laughed for a good half hour...

...because he does, indeed, look just like Baby Eve. And then I texted the picture around to all my family and took credit for Kent's joke.

I'm fairly certain, if given the chance, Eve would, as well, take a pan to Sam's head yelling, "Not da mama! Not da mama!" She loves me. What can I say?

Baby Eve has been an interesting baby. I use the word interesting because that's the word my mom uses to describe someone she really wants to say something bad about. Now, hold your horses before you start thinking I'm all heartless and rude for calling Eve interesting. I only say it because she has, well, been relatively stoic and fairly unimpressed with anyone and anything since her birth. And she had colic for 5 months. Which I still haven't forgiven her for.

BUT! I will say that our Tiny Tuna makes me all gushy and fuzzy and melty inside and I hold her and squeeze her and kiss her all day long because she is the squishiest squish that ever lived.

She sleeps with me every night. But she's a real tyrant about it. She does not want me to snuggle her, nor does she want to share my blanket. She wants to regulate the touching, and, while she makes sure to have a fat little hand or foot or arm touching me at all times, she threatens to awaken the house with some shrill bellering if I try to touch her. She's very domineering this way. Most nights I end up with my head at the foot of the bed and Eve somewhere between my legs. This arrangement has caused some dissension in my marriage... but I figure it's worth it because I know my littles will only babies once and I'm pretty sure that my teen-aged Baby Eve won't be snuggling up between her dad and me every night.

She has a love/hate relationship with her elder sister. This is primarily because Leah causes Eve's life to be one of almost constant anxiety and uncertainty. This video pretty much sums it up...

(forgive the poor quality)

She's recently discovered her voice works for things other than screaming at me and she tunes in attentively to any show that Leah is watching and shouts around at it...

And this happens no less than 15 times a day...

Like a lamb to the slaughter, poor little Eve ... But I love that Leah's already trying to leave me out...

Somedays I can't believe how huge she's getting and I wonder if I look like a freak when people see me nursing this full grown human. Until I see her next to her behemoth sister.

Each and every time I am nursing her, she spends the duration trying to get her fat little finger up my nose. Like, the entire time. And sometimes, when I'm not on top of my game, I let her.

She has recently started having opinions about which toys she wants to play with, much to Leah's chagrin, and screeches and swats around violently, or latches on to Leah's hair, when Leah tries to take things from her. This is secretly very satisfying to watch.

Hmmm... what else. Oh, yesterday I discovered three leaves in her diaper. THREE. I'm not sure when she had access to these leaves, unattended, for enough time to actually ingest them, but we'll settle on it being her dad's fault. The good news is, they didn't even phase her so she apparently has the gut of a small cow.

And finally, she is so freaking cute--so delectable in every way that I spend a good amount of my day trying to restrain the urge to pummel her... or slam her against the wall... or sit on her. Yes, these are the urges I have when I see cute things. Lock up your children... and puppies... and husbands.

Oh Baby Eve. Don't get any bigger. Stay exactly the way you are right now and I'll be happy forever. Well, I guess you could start sleeping better. And feeding yourself. And changing your own diapers. But other than that...