My camera died and we have noooo AA batteries left, and sometimes it’s a pain to get out Erik’s camera.  Plus, we just haven’t been doing that much worth taking pictures!  Here are a couple every day photos, though, that do a good job capturing almost-2-years-old Samuel.

Samuel loves cars.  Cars the movie, cars the toys, cars the big things the fly down the street.  He loves cars!  Ok, but particularly the movie.  Samuel has a Lightning McQueen {“Stickers”} a Chick Hicks {“Car Chick”} and Mack {“BACK! BACK!”}  Without fail, every morning starts the same.  We go downstairs, Sam says “Car, where is it?”  He and I search for his special cars, often left in the kitchen cabinet, because that’s where cars sleep, duh.  And as soon as Lightning and Co. are in Sam’s hands he sits down on the floor and says, “Ok, watch Cars.”

Samuel found my secret stash of peanut M&Ms and made a healthy and nutritious breakfast out of them.  Smug little chocolate stealer.

One morning Samuel got the idea that his cars needed a house.  He brought me his wagon of blocks and explained, “Blocks, build house cars.”  So I threw together a little something, Samuel added his standard finishing touch {the “tower”} and welcomed his cars home.  I had to take a picture because I am always fascinated with the way Sam lines up, groups, and organizes.  I suggested such a cool house needed some dinosaurs to guard it, and Samuel thought that was a great idea.  Then I told him to go sit by the house and say cheese so I could take a picture.  Eat your heart out, Kiddie Kandids.

[Ah, yes, you noticed the missing cushion cover.  It was still in the wash from the day earlier, after being barfed all over right before I called the doctor in a panic and was scheduled for an emergency appointment to tend to Sam's concussion.  Oh, I didn't tell you about that . . . ?]

And, last but certainly not least, Samuel has officially adopted new blankets and fully initiated them to the world of chewed-on stinky corners of yuckiness.  I still think it’s bizarre that he went 4 weeks without even glancing at his nasty blanket replacements, and then all of sudden decided the ones that had been sitting in his crib the whole time might be good enough afterall.

Keep reading if you want some laughs . . . the toddler humor kind, nothing fancy here.

I really don’t even know what to say.  Baffling.

“Get-ting so much bet-ter all the tiiime.”  What song is that?  Why for the life of me cannot I not think of what song that is and who sings it?!  Many thanks to those who commented before.  It really did help me feel a little bit more sane.

So we aren’t {there} yet; we might not even be that close, but we are certainly getting closer.  The hard part is still the moment Samuel gets put in his crib.  That’s when he starts crying and getting upset, and asking “More blankets??”  But for the last couple days he has been able to get over it well enough to spend a few minutes doing his usual playing before falling asleep, with only a few whimpers mixed in.  Samuel also has slept through the last couple nights, and woken up happy; a {huge} improvement!

Just now, as I put Samuel down for his nap we went through the expected routine.  Once in his crib, Sam asked hopefully [yes, note he didn't cry or whine, he just asked!] “More blankets?!”  I gave him the well rehearsed response of, “No Sam.  Those are the only blankets you get.  Now sleep tight, I love you.”  Samuel thought about it for a moment, and must have decided he would try a new tactic this time.  “K . . . more monkeys?”

Oh my sweet sweet child.  If I could, I would give you all the monkeys in the world!

I use Stat-Counter.  And I check my blog’s FireStats.  I may not know who you are, but I know you’re there.  And now is the time to help, because I NEED IT!  Songs of sympathy, words of encouragement, wise pieces of advice.  Please share.  I am going out of my mind.  I am overcome with doubt, guilt, what-ifs, coulda-woulda-shouldas, and 8937 ranging emotions.  So please please please, comfort a crazy mama!  It can be your good deed for the day.

Here’s the story.  Samuel loved his blankets.  He loved chewing on his blankets.  {Are you noticing the past tense yet?!}  Three very specific blankets.  Since he was 5 months old, they had been his comfort, his soothing, and my sanity.  [Examples here, here, here, and here.]  He had just about chewed the corners to pieces, they were stained, and very stinky.  Sam also started getting super worked up when he couldn’t find a “good” corner to chew on.  In an act of desperation, we cut the corners off Thursday night.  In an act of even more desperation, we decided the best thing to do was get rid of the blankets completely.  [Sam wanted nothing to do with the blankets now that they were missing corners.]  So on Saturday, after a tortuous 45 minutes of non-stop screaming before finally falling asleep for his nap, we took Samuel to Build-a-Bear.  When we came home, Sam was excited to get his new dinosaur [even though the whole Build-a-Experience totally freaked him out.]  But we told him first he had to get rid of his yucky dirty blankets.  I thought it would help if I also dumped my blanket that until then was still folded underneath my pillow.�

It has been close to a nightmare ever since . . .

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The days are actually almost ok.  It’s naptime and nights that are killing me.  Of course I wonder if I did the right thing, if I have scarred my sweet child for life, if he will ever ever EVER get over the loss of his blankets . . . I wonder that and a kajillion other things.  But it kills me.  It absolutely kills me that the pain and hurt that little boy is feeling is because of me, and nothing I do can make it better.  Samuel either screams or cries himself to sleep.  He wakes up from his naps early and he wakes up several times during the night inconsolable.

I’m just at such a loss.  I am overloaded with guilt, doubt, hurt, frustration, annoyance, anxiety, exhaustion, helplessness . . . Blah!!  I just don’t know!!!!

I dread the day Samuel has to sleep in a “big boy” bed.  For lots of crazy, irrational reasons.  So in the meantime, I will enjoy my guilty pleasure of sneaking in to watch him sleep in his crib, and continue to chuckle each time I find Sam sleeping like this.

I don’t necessarily have anything fun or new to post, but I figured it was time to move onto something a little less barfy.  We’ve actually had a few ok days and haven’t seen any large upchucks since I last posted.  Samuel’s still spitting up, gagging, and dry heaving, but that’s become the norm.  Just 2 more weeks till our appointment!

Love those little feet!

Despite his very first encounter, Sam really loves the snow now!

Pleeeeease, Mom, just let me play with the camera!!

So there seriously is nothing new going on.  Boring.  Sam doesn’t have any new tricks and he hasn’t done anything that exciting.  Boring.  He does often surprise us with something else he has figured out how to climb on to (each getting progressively higher) and even though he hasn’t said any new words recently, he can make a whole lot of animal noises.  Sam has dog, kitty, cow, sheep, lion, elephant, and tiger all under his belt.  I pushed “meow” and “moo” in hopes of Sam perfecting the “M” sound that starts the word “MOM!!!!!” but all I got was “Wah-ow” and “Woooooo.”  {I guess I’ll have to keep being “Dwah” for a while longer.}

Sam is clever, though, and it’s fun to watch him learn and make connections.  Like to be at Target and hear Sam say “Wah-ow!” over and over as points to a toy cat.  Or to watch Sam moo at the horses when we’re out for a walk (clearly, we’re still working on “neigh!”)  Or to have Sam bring me a sheep from his little nativity as he explains to me intently, “Baa, baaa, baaaa.”  Or to introduce Sam to a hot dog for the first time {“Samuel, this is a hot dog!  Hot dog.  Try the hot dog.  Mmmm, hot dog!”} only to have him poke it a couple times, then look at me with a puzzled expression, “Woof woof?”

This is how I found Sam sleeping a few afternoons ago.  As precious as nap time is, I couldn’t resist the urge to flash a camera in his face while he slept, even at the risk of waking him up.  Ephemeral moments like these are too cute to pass up. 

 Sam has a cold.  No fun.  He hates having his nose wiped.  That doesn’t keep him away from the tissues a whole 37 seconds later.  At least he’ll wipe his own nose.  Oh, wait, that’s not what he’s doing. 

Samuel has been holding his own cup for a long time now, but I realized this morning I had never taken a picture of it.  So here you go.

I get so annoyed every time I go clothes shopping for Sam.  Nowhere, NOWHERE, makes baby clothes for tall, skinny babies.  If I want Sam’s ankles covered, it’s opens up the possiblity of not having his bum covered.  Case in point.  (Although, this picture is not the one I intended to get.  I was getting ready and Sam was playing in my closet.  I peeked in to check on him, and found him standing and trying to pull a shirt off the hanger.  His pants were around his ankles.  By the time I ran downstairs and back to get the camera, Sam had moved on to my makeup.)

Seriously, guess who’s getting his hair cut this weekeeeeend?!?!