Spiderman is for your birthday; Batman is for Christmas

Duh. Who doesn't know this already? Apparently my son thinks everyone should; it's obviously common knowledge. That's just one of the things new to me in what's been a whirlwind holiday season. And now that the holidays are officially over (or, will be when I get the Christmas tree down), I thought I'd take some time to share some of the lessons I've learned recently:

Spiderman & Batman and Their Rightful Places
I'm not entirely sure why Spiderman is a superhero reserved just for birthdays, as Sam celebrated his with Disney's Cars theme, but we were all about Batman for Christmas. Sam had a couple of opportunities to chat with Santa and wanted to be sure he was aware of the parameters for our masked heroes. To ensure there was NO mistake, he even took along the Target sale ad to make sure Santa knew just what to get and, of course, where to get the best price. It was successful. Santa delivered a Batman figurine, a toothbrush holder and cup and one very cool Bat Cave.

Juggling Two
Despite this blog being on hiatus for quite some time, I'm sure all of you already know that Sam welcomed home Baby Meatball late last year. Born on Nov. 25th, it took us several days to decide on a name for Cooper and so even the hospital staff was calling him Baby Meatball, a name that Sam selected several months ago. Randomly. We thought that Peanut would survive as a nickname for Sam and it's slowly faded away. Not so with "Meatball," especially considering that all of Sam's friends think his name is actually Meatball. Sorry Cooper; blame your brother.

We're working on figuring out how to juggle two kids and their various needs and have our get-out-the-door routine down to 30 minutes. (We'll let you know if we're able to break that record.) It's a challenge, but is one that we're absolutely loving.

Leaving the Door Open
We've also been learning that, all of a sudden, we're able to leave our front door open when lugging groceries or kids to and from the car. Sadly, we lost our best pal Louie in November, just two days before bringing Cooper home to meet him. He was 11 and showing some signs of age, but his passing took us all by surprise. We're still in the habit of closing the door and think of him all the time.

Act Your Age
Another important lesson at our house. And it's not one we've been teaching our 3-year-old. It's one I've had to learn again and one that has me repeating...I'm the adult, I'm the adult, I'm the adult. Sam's been, shall we say, testing the waters lately and knows precisely how to push my buttons. "I don't wanna put my shoes on. I don't wanna go to bed. I don't wanna wake up. I don't wanna!" It's a lesson that I knew I needed after realizing that I stuck my tongue out AT MY PRESCHOOLER (behind his back, but still) during one of our discussions. It's going slow, but I'm making progress.

Brothers are Pretty Cool
Even though Sam and Cooper are just two months into their brothership, it's obvious that there are some distinct advantages. Sam is able to translate Cooper's cries and explain to us what he needs - be it a diaper change, a bottle or his specially-made teddy bear, Stewie. Cooper, on the other hand, is enjoying learning how Transformers fly and that a toy held 3-6 inches from your face should cure crying.

I'm sure there will be additional lessons for me and Adrian...we'll keep you updated!

Laverne & Shirley....and Shirley

Schlameel, Schlamaazal, Hassenpepper Incorporated!

I'm sure you recall the catchy chant that opened the popular 1970s TV show "Laverne & Shirley." Who could forget those nutty ladies and their antics in life and love? It was that sense of warm friendship and camaraderie that we were hoping to create when we welcomed the two newest members of the Mendez clan. No puppies, kittens or other furry animals. Instead, Santa was kind enough to bring us two beta fish...aptly named Laverne and Shirley.

Now, before you tell me that two beta fish can't be in the same tank, we were assured by the fine fish experts at Petsmart that as long as both fish were female, we would be fine. They would live in harmony and one day grow to love one another. What we didn't count on was that Laverne would quickly turn into a fish-eating maniac.

Poor Shirley tried valiantly (and desperately) to swim away, but Laverne continued to chase her and gradually bite off all of her fins. Adrian and I had a little moment of silence for her and sent her swirling off to the big fish tank in the sky.





Enter Shirley #2. (Same color. Similar look.)

Once again, before you tell me it's not fair to have replaced Sam's fish with a look-alike and to have "tricked" him, it's been done to all of us. The "new" Darren on "Bewitched?" You know you didn't like him as well, but he did a good job. Same thing for Vivian Banks on "The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air." It happens all of the time. Deal.

We had high hopes for Shirley Part Deux. She was a little larger, a little livelier. The two of them got along famously. For awhile. After three weeks or so, it started again. A little nip here, another there. Eventually, Flushing Ceremony Part Deux.

We decided, then, to become a one-fish family and I cleaned out and freshened up her tank. Although I earned good marks in both high school and college chemistry classes, I apparently didn't learn enough to follow simple on-bottle instructions and Laverne joined her co-stars a few weeks ago.

The tank still sits there, and Sam still wishes both of them a good night before settling down in his bed. It's as if the show is on hiatus and we're watching re-runs. With $6 and another trip to Petsmart, we'll have all-new episodes soon.

Jingle Bell ROCK

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Pancakes, syrup and Santa

We're gearing up for a visit from the Fat Man in the Red Suit, so it's all Santa, all the time here at the Mendez house. We had breakfast with him a couple of weekends ago and it went really well. Sam wasn't afraid and even sat on his lap. To our surprise, he also had an answer to Santa's "What do you want for Christmas, little boy?"


"Presents."

Nothing specific. No grand demands. No elaborate assembly required. Whew.

We've wrestled with what Sam should find under the tree this year and I think the two of us are getting excited about a movie-like Christmas morning. After much discussion, it's been settled. Drums. A full set. With four loud barrels to bang on and two loud sticks to bang with. Clearly, we've already fallen victim to the craziness of Christmas and the insanity of trying to rock our kid's world.

But, really....we don't care.

Disclaimer: I also requested that we buy a toy designed to teach our little rock star how to tell time, so he'll have a clear understanding of what "it's too early" means. Daddy disagreed, but I predict a quick change of heart.

We've already made our purchase - er, Santa's purchase - and have stashed it away in our Super Secret Parental Hiding Place (also known as the closet).

I guess now we begin saving up for his first tattoo. You can't be a real rock star without one of those. Hmmm....I'm envisioning a heart with "Mommy" written across it.

Ty-D-Bowl-tini

As many of you may remember, I was Mother of the Year in 2007, thanks to the dislocation of Sam's elbow. (Not to worry, he's recovered and, even though it's his pitching arm, we're sure he's in tip-top shape.) It seems as though I'm a finalist this year (or at least an Honorable Mention). My son drinks out of the toilet.

While disgusting, I do think it's important to note the ingenuity and resourcefulness that was displayed. I work from home and, during busy times, it's often necessary to multi-task. Sam and I sometimes sing songs while he marches around and I check email or draft stop-the-presses caliber news releases. At one point, he wanted a drink of water from downstairs. I was in the middle of said news release and couldn't stop the writing mojo, so I told him "in a minute." I hear slurping noises. No worries; Sam's recently started pretend play and he pretends to eat things and feed his stuffed animals. I hear more slurping noises and this time assume that he's drinking from the sink, like we taught him to do when he brushes his teeth. No worries. Can't stop the writing mojo. I take another minute or two and finish up. I stepped around the corner, and he's proudly drinking out of his hand, just like I thought, but...from...the...toilet. "Look, Momma. Drinka water." Oh. No. I wasn't sure if I should run for a camera or a toothbrush. Who am I kidding? It's an easy decision. The batteries in my camera were dead (dang!), meaning there aren't any photos. Teeth brushing commences.

It's been awhile since the last update and Sam's growing more and more each and every day. He's talking all of the time, singing songs and, just today, asked "why?" for the first time. I guess I should note it in his baby book, except the answer to the question was "because you'll pee all over the floor if you don't." Not exactly Norman Rockwell. Except maybe when he was learning to use the potty.



Halloween was eventful and Sam took on the holiday with a sequined jumpsuit, dark glasses and a guitar. It's Elvis, baby! We teamed up with Davia for trick-or-treating as well as a trip to the pumpkin patch. They both took time selecting the perfect pumpkin...and then tried to lift it. (Needless to say, they weren't successful in actually carrying them and we quietly and non-chalantly left them behind.)


Sam also had fun playing with his cousins at Rend Lake this summer and seems to be a budding baseball player. When he's not criss-crossing the yard with his bubble mower. (We're working our way up to one that runs on gasoline. We'll let you all know when he's taking summertime clients.)

We'll start talking about Santa soon, in hopes of a lovely, overpriced mall photo. Fingers crossed.

Bye, Bill.

Sam can't really pronounce the "f" sound all that well (unless it's in regard to the aforementioned exclamation), so his greetings to our cat Phil usually sounded like "Hiiii, Bill" and "Bye, Bill." I never noticed the cat return the greetings, but I'm sure he appreciated them.

We all said goodbye to Phil last week and he's now in Kitty Heaven, likely rolling around in the largest pile of catnip he could ever have imagined. He was an old man and, as you all know, had a nice and sometimes exciting life. Despite having only one eye and being mostly blind in it, he recently took a three-day excursion around our town, visiting a construction site and some apparent pools of motor oil before settling in at the police station. He wasn't an active cat, until it was time for vacation apparently. When we lived in Georgia, he took a several-day vacay every Christmas, despite our dedicated friend Mindi looking in on him and shelling out some food and love each and every day. He did this to her three years in a row, and never even bought her a gift.

He also made an impression on our former neighbors, who - on the day of their moving in - discovered us on the back porch wearing leather coats and oven mitts in an attempt to shave and free Phil from the tar he'd rolled in. Again. It wasn't quite so "nice" to meet us at that point. But, they came around to like us and to love Phil, and to send him home when he was meowing on the wrong porch.

Sam obviously won't remember these stories and may not remember Phil, but that cat did teach him some important life lessons. Mostly about personal space and that sharp things hurt. The "sharp" lesson was learned pretty quickly, but the "personal space" one came a little slower. Needless to say, the lessons went hand in hand. Phil was patient, though, as Sam learned what it meant to pet gently and Sam delighted in helping feed Phil and dishing out treats.

Thanks, Phil.
We love you.

"Oh, f---"

"Oh, fuuuudge." Only he didn't say fudge. That's right; he said it. The f--- word. The coup de gras of all swear words. It was a flat tire incident that brought about Ralphie's foul mouth during Christmas. At the Mendez house, it was a new set of blinds for the family room. It happens in a split second; you're not even sure that it's happening; you're unaware of the four-letter word lingering in your subconscious, ready to jump out at a moment's notice. All it takes, apparently, is a metal ladder and a stubbed toe. Then, the flood gates open.

Right away, there erupts a toddler chant of "oh, f---, oh f---, oh, f---." Adults stifle the laughing. We keep talking, about anything, anything at all, ignoring the smallest of smut mouths, ignoring him, giving him no attention, none at all. And trying extremely hard not to bust out laughing. The swear words subside.

Until dinner.

When Sam drops his fork, he also drops yet ANOTHER F-bomb. Again. Must. Stifle. Laughter. I'm not sure why we think it's so funny. Perhaps because it's so inappropriate.

A few weeks have past since the "ladder" incident, and we were swear word free. And then Sam tripped down the curb at daycare. And guess what? That's right. "oh, f---."

I imagine some of you are worried about his future, about eternal damnation and about mandatory home schooling. Instead, we choose to focus on how bright and, dare I say, gifted he appears to be. After only one "lesson," Sam has grasped the new vocabulary and has used it in a variety of instances, all with incredible accuracy. I'm sure future teachers will note just how bright he is.

Sam's romance continues to blossom and he took his special girl to "Baby Loves Disco" a few weeks ago. It's amazing how much toddlers will dance if you hop them up on juice boxes, cookies and pizza and then turn on the loud music and a bubble machine. Davia seemed to enjoy the dancing more than Sam did (who was basically in a trance when they kicked on the bubbles), but still saved a couple of dances (and a little downtime) for him.

As many of you know, we recently took our first family vacation. Packing up the suitcases (which tipped the scales at 55 pounds and cost us an additional $100....thank you, United Airlines), we headed west to San Diego. It seemed both kid- and adult-friendly and none of us had really visited before.


Somehow, our week of vacation coincidentally coincided with Sam's first tryout of the tantrum. And, in yet another display of his giftedness, he not only tried it for the first time, but also MASTERED it in just minutes. It was a rocky trip, with some trying moments (mostly on the airplane) and some very sweet ones (saying "hello" to the ocean every morning). We came home with a few scars, a digital camera full of photos and some wonderful memories. And we continue to brace for the "Terrible Twos."

Inmate in Charge of the Asylum

It's official....the inmates are running the asylum.

In recent weeks, Sam's figured out how to slide quite quickly down the stairs, shimmy under the baby gates (we keep them high so our poor blind cat doesn't freak out), actually remove the gates and place them gently against the wall (extra points for neatness, I guess) and even open doors. He continues to work on the intricacies of the locks.

Luckily he's terrified of the Tickle Me Elmo that we recently purchased. With some strategic placement of our new furry friend, the removable gates aren't as much of an issue.

Valentine's Day was pretty eventful for Sam and his relationship with Davia seems to be blossoming. They've both been officially moved to the Toddler Room and while the toys are cooler and they have their own slide, Sam's not too thrilled. So far, he's rather distraught during drop off, but we hear that he bucks up pretty soon after we leave. If it's really bad, Sweet Davia will make him a sandwich. (Made of plastic, but it's the thought.)

I'm not a girl! I just have fabulous hair.

That was the rally cry around here recently, as more and more people (mainly, little old ladies) kept referring to Sam as "her" and saying how pretty she was. I would politely say "thank you" and move on. Adrian, on the other hand, made sure to correct them and walked away with his head held high...and, we're assuming, with the women thinking it was a crying shame that no one got that poor little boy a haircut.



I liked his "crazy hair" and the "no worries" look it gave him. Wouldn't it be nice to have that "no worries" look and feeling, if even for a day? But, it was starting to get a little long in the back and, in my opinion, we were nearing official mullet stage. An absolute no-no. So, we teamed up with Sam's friend Davia (Princess Leia, for those of you keeping track) and her mom and dad and headed out to Cookie Cutters, a hair cuttery geared specifically for tots and complete with a slide, video games, toys, movies, cartoons, and fun things to sit in while getting coifed. Davia elected for a pink truck, while Sam opted for your standard red fire engine. She seemed to handle it okay - we're assuming it was the X chromosome - while Sam didn't want any part of it. None. Zero. Zilch.

We managed to get through the entire haircut, though, thanks to Dad's comforting (read: holding him down). I think he ended up looking a little less carefree and a little more "dork," but I suppose it will grow out.

The holidays were fun, although Sam didn't enjoy the opening of presents as much as we thought. We had grandiose ideas of him getting excited and tearing off the wrapping paper, anxious to see what each package held in store. Instead, he played with Louie's leash, walking around and around. Didn't care about paper-ripping, didn't care too much about new toys, but had a hell of a time lapping the kitchen with an old red leash. If I would've known, I would've gotten Louie a new one.

We did enjoy New Year's Eve, celebrating the holiday with children for the first time. Again, we got together with Team Davia and had a great time. Compared notes about our tots, gossiped about daycare and found the Captain and Cokes and beer going down surprisingly easy. We called it an early night about 10 p.m., so the kids weren't total monsters in the morning. Adrian and I "celebrated" by watching the ball drop and were both asleep by 12:15 a.m. Happy New Year!


Chicago has seen a fair amount of snow this year, so we've made sure to introduce Sam to the white stuff. We've pelted him with his first snowball (he laughed), showed him how to throw them to Louie so he eats them, and gave him a sled ride. With a lot more winter still to come, we're talking with Louie about the possibility of a harness to pull the sled. He's not excited, but we're negotiating. He's demanding that the kid stop messing with his dog food and quit chasing him with his tyke-sized vacuum. We're not sure we can agree to those terms. Talks are stalled.

In the meantime, Sam waits for his cousin's arrival.....("Hurry so we can play!")

First steps...and a disturbance in the Force

Sam's been a busy guy this fall, taking his first steps, learning to cheer on the Georgia Bulldogs, enjoying his first family reunion and being introduced to the ritual of begging neighbors for candy.

I wasn't particularly excited about my birthday this year, as turning 34 doesn't carry with it the excitement of turning 16 or the allure of reaching 21. It really just means that I have to round-up to 35 and that I'm that much closer to 40. Coupled with the fact that I was going to be celebrating at a trade show, I didn't have high hopes. But, it turns out the youngest guy with the least amount of money gave me the best present: he took his first steps on my birthday. I think that it's actually an attempt to make up for the "da-da" on Mother's Day, but I'll still take it.


Sam's proven to be a bit of a showman, if not a little bit of a meat head. We ran for the video camera when he started walking and captured many of his first steps, after which he mugged for the camera and clapped for himself. He held court during the Davis-Edwards-Mendez soiree in October and managed to capture and hold the attention of nearly 20 adults and several hillbillies sitting near us in a restaurant.

He's learned to offer "cheers" while giving a companion's glass a clink with his sippy cup and will offer up an emphatic "Mmmm" after licking the fingers he just stuck in someone's beer glass.

We were sad that our little guy had to endure such heartbreak at such a young age, watching the Bulldogs fall to South Carolina and Tennessee. But, joy soon followed as UGA beat Florida and then Auburn. Sam was so moved that he mastered the touchdown signal and can even belt out a toddler-version of "Go Dawgs!" We're hoping that he doesn't learn to belt out other key phrases - which, of course, would be his father's fault.

For those of you that were concerned after last year's Halloween, rest assured that we didn't incorporate any portion of the oven or stove in this year's celebration and, again, no lobsters (actual or otherwise) were harmed.


Star Wars was the theme this year, starring Sam as Yoda and Louie as the dark-sided foe, Darth Vader. We hooked up with one of Sam's friends, who coincidentally rounded out the group as Princess Leia. While the movie characters had the Millennium Falcon, our group took flight in a Radio Flyer. All was well until Darth had to, er, lift the cape and relieve himself. The helmet was short-lived and, with the pit stop, the body suit was a goner. Only the cape - and a stinky bag - survived. That was the first tremor in the Force.

The second came when Yoda, who we all know is vertically challenged, tried to stretch and see something. Rather than using his powers to move the object in his way, young Yoda leeaaned a bit more and fell right out of the wagon. No fancy flipping and no Ninja-like reflexes. We were left with a pile of Yoda right on the sidewalk. I've learned that the ears must be some sort of futuristic coping mechanism, as that's what saved Yoda from certain doom. A hug from his mom and the defender of good was on his way.

Leia and Yoda had differing opinions from time to time on where to walk and which candy to select, but revealed a bond not seen before in any of the movies George Lucas shared with us. Now we'll all have to go back and look beyond Luke and Han and see if there really was a spark between the princess and the little green man.

Mmm....cake.

*Disclaimer: We apologize for the lack of Peanut updates. They're significantly harder to make now that the Peanut can move - and crawl and walk and go up the stairs and chase the dog. It was much easier to type when we could plop him on a blanket with a toy or two.

As you know, our little man celebrated his first birthday on July 21st and we all had a great time. Sam enjoyed playing with all of the friends and family that were able to make it and was a real trooper all day. With the cameras of the family paparazzi in position, Sam soaked up the "Happy Birthday" singing and proceeded to destroy his birthday cake, feeding some of it to Louie (who's got a near-permanent position next to the high chair) and wearing a significant portion of it.

Sam's been quite busy this summer, spending a majority of his time dismantling any hint of order that's in the house. Whether it's a pile of his toys, kitchen cabinets, or even the refrigerator, it will be undone.

It was a nice summer here in Chicago, and we got in some time at the beach and in the pool in the backyard. (Louie promptly popped the pool, so it was a bit short-lived.)

Sam's also looking forward to our family reunion in Kentucky (how's THAT for redneck?!) and is developing and practicing his air hockey skills in anticipation of kicking Uncle Kelton's rear.

Uh-oh, Daddy.

Turns out Sam's first two words actually make a sentence. Or a comment. Or whatever. They didn't come in that order, but one followed quickly on the heels of the other. Sam's become quite the chatterbox, although those are the only two things we can actually understand. But we talk back to him anyway. Not sure where that chatterbox gene came from.

As anticipated, Adrian thoroughly enjoyed his first Father's Day weekend. Sam and I pooled our money and set him up with a nice shiny grill...on which HE cooked US dinner. (Ha! I would say I played that one pretty well.) He slept in, which now constitutes only making it past 8:30 a.m. or so. Adrian was treated to all of his favorites for breakfast and the three of us enjoyed a nice quiet day playing at home.

Since our last post, Sam has moved into a "gated" community. (Thanks to Grandpa Fred for helping us put it up and making certain cabinets off-limits.) He's still butt scooting, but has recently added some actual crawling to his repertoire and he's getting faster at all of it. As soon as we turn around, he seems to down the hall or in the next room or, his favorite, dipping his hand in Louie's bowl for a snack. (Seriously, the kid eats a lot of dog food.)

With Sam's exploring, we're also seeing the beginning of "boo-boos" and "owees." Pinched fingers, banged head and bitten lips. Nothing serious, but I'm sure a sign of things to come.

I'm finding it hard to believe that Sam will soon have his first birthday and will no longer be a baby. I know it's cliche, but time really does fly.

Mother of the Year

It's not official, but I might just be Mother of the Year. A prestigious honor, and one I didn't expect to earn so early in my tenure. And, I'm sure you're asking yourself, how did I qualify for such an honor? It was simple, really. Just had to dislocate my son's elbow.

Before you run to the phone to call the Department of Children & Families, he's okay. And, according to the ER doctor, it's not that big of a deal. It happened a few weeks ago, just after Sam discovered what fun it is to hang upside down. He was leaning backwards off of my lap while I held onto his hands. As I brought him up (slowly, I promise!), the elbow slipped right out. He cried, but eventually stopped and, since it was close to dinner time, we attributed it to a longing for a bottle of the house white. When he didn't grab the bottle with two hands, we knew we had a problem.

It's apparently very common and not cause for alarm. It is, however, cause for complete embarrassment and a feeling of overwhelming guilt. The doctor and nurses reassured me that it happens all of the time and some kids are just more prone to it. It's even got its own slang terms: "nursemaid's elbow" and (my favorite) "nanny arm."

But, as usual, the kid took it like a champ. They popped it right back in and we didn't even have to give him Tylenol. A couple of stickers and we were on our way. A tough guy already!

Sam remains committed to never crawling and is now a fairly nimble butt scooter. I originally joked about the Swiffer pad...but am seriously reconsidering my stance on that issue. (Oh, another factor in my Mother of the Year nomination is the level of filth that my child manages to pick up as he scoots his way across the floor.)

The Mother of the Year honors were quite special this time of year, what with me celebrating my first Mother's Day. It was a lovely day that included sleeping in and kicked off with a special breakfast made just for me. Putting the cherry on top of my MOTY nomination, we went to my favorite pub for a couple of pints. Mmmm.

Adrian had a perfectly perfect day planned and it was such a treat. I'll assume it's because he loves me and not because he was establishing a precedent for the Mother's Day/Father's Day celebrations. It's better that way.

And, just in time for Mother's Day, Sam said his first word: "da-da."

Hey Play-a

Not yet nine months old, Sam already seems to be quite the ladies man. I understand he's wooed several girls at daycare and, recently, he entertained two older women at our house. They even wore their sexy bunny suits. Watch out, Heffner.

Lauren and Maddie Kunesh came over for a visit and all of the kids seemed to have a good time playing together. Sam's not as mobile as the girls, and we're actually, sort of, kind of glad he's not crawling.

Sam spent Easter weekend visiting all of his grandparents in Nashville and celebrating his Pops' big 6-0. He also helped his aunt move into her new townhouse. While much of the house was in disarray, Sam managed to work on his spelling and language skills.

Second Place

Seems as though Sam is already showing signs of greatness. Although there weren't any trophies awarded, we're very proud to announce that Sam took second place at the bowling competition recently held at Rogy's Learning Center (Infant I Division). He bowled a nearly perfect score, putting up a 12 out of a possible 15. The winner did walk away with a perfect game, but, well...he's older. We'll be sure to keep you up-to-date on Sam's future tournaments.

It's disappointing that there weren't any trophies or medals, but Sam's learned to clap, so was able to give himself a nice round of applause.

Adrian's working on developing his son's appreciation for music and is dedicated to introducing him to all of the great hair bands of the 1980s. (May all of their careers rest in peace.)

Sam's finally sprouted two teeth and continues to eat like a madman. He gives himself his own bottle and I'm sure drinking directly out of the milk carton is right around the corner. Let's just hope he doesn't down as much milk as Uncle Kelton. Perhaps we should look into a home equity loan.

The little guy is starting to be mobile, but traditional crawling doesn't seem to be his forte. He prefers instead to butt-scoot his way around, which will hopefully provide a wider base for attaching a Swiffer cloth.

Sam's looking forward to Grandparents' Week at school and hopes to show off his finger-painting and bowling skills (and beat the crap out of that other kid).

Sittin' pretty

Sam's been busy thus far in 2007 - expanding his palate and sitting up and looking at things from a different angle. So far, the chef at 656 Stewart has prepared sweet potatoes, carrots, peas and green beans and, on the sweeter side, bananas and applesauce. We've still got additional introductions to make before we make good on our promises of pizza and ice cream.

Valentine's Day is right around the corner, so Sam's been busy trying to grow more hair in hopes of impressing the ladies. As you can see, he's already surpassed his "Pops" in that department.

Sam and Louie are becoming fast friends and Sam continually reaches for the pooch and lets him lick his hands and fingers. We're not usually far behind, ready to wipe the little guy clean and enforce the "no licking the face" rule. Unfortunately, Louie is a slow learner. I would imagine that the "best friend" status will be solidified once Sam starts eating on his own and they both figure out that food is easily transferred from high chair to dog.

Shut. Your. Mouth.

"Shut. Your. Mouth." Good advice for new parents, anxious to help their children "fly" overhead. Better advice for new parents? Don't do it within one hour of feeding said child. Somehow, Adrian didn't get that memo. (I'm still laughing out loud every time I think about it.)



Sam thoroughly enjoyed his first Christmas and it's fun watching him play with all of his new toys. (He didn't get that flat screen TV that we told Santa he wanted, but there's always next year.) He's quickly growing into his toys and finally getting to use some of the things we received as shower gifts or as "welcome Sam" gifts. He's even managed to figure out a way to saddle up to his piano and, we're hoping, earn a few bucks playing for a bunch of drunks (seen here).

As it's been awhile since the last post, we've noticed big changes in our little man. He's eating solid food, although not enjoying it very much despite my promises of future pizzas and ice cream sundaes. We've also discovered further evidence that he may not actually be ours: he seems to like peas the best thus far. (Blech.)

He's very close to rolling over, prompting a recent trip to Babies R Us to purchase a gate for the stairs. He's coming VERY close, but hasn't quite made it. His best efforts come from attempts to look at himself in the mirror, so I'm already envisioning teenage years filled with lots of primping and too much cologne.

Rumor has it that he's quite a card player, so between taking requests on the piano and 5-card stud, we're hoping college will take care of itself.

Head of the Class

There haven't been "official" rankings, but I'm sure my little guy is at the top of his class (seen here). He's younger, sure. He's smaller. And, okay, he doesn't crawl, walk or eat actual food. But, he's very clearly advanced. According to reports, he's "happy" and "attentive" nearly every day. We've also just received his first evaluation from daycare and it was glowing.


He's added rolling over (from belly to back) and squawking to his bag of tricks, and will "stand" when you hold him and is just beginning to arch his back and reach when he's about to be picked up. We're delighted with the occasional giggle and is also progressing in his social skills. As I understand it, is starting to put the moves on the girls in his class.

In addition to his evaluation, his teachers commented on his friendly demeanor. Turns out that he and one girl in particular (sitting on the lap of the teacher in the red shirt in the class photo) have been caught holding hands in class. Interestingly enough, she was also supposed to be a lobster for Halloween. (Turns out the costume was too hot and she cried. She ended up staying in her Pumpkin garb.) Lobsters are monogamous, so this could be a potentially long-term relationship. While a lobster will mate for life with another lobster, I'm still unclear as to whether a lobster will mate with a pumpkin.

Sam's still battling his cold (we're nearing the 2-month mark), but takes his medicine like a champ. The docs tell me that's normal, especially since he goes to daycare. Their advice: "Get used to it. It's going to be a long winter."

During his latest trip to the doctor, Sam tipped the scales at 14 pounds, 10 ounces. He continues to grow, but didn't even come close to the Thanksgiving turkey, which weighed in at 21 pounds (without stuffing).

He seems to have all of the classic teething symptoms, but we can't see any pearly whites poking through his gums just yet. Maybe he'll be more determined once we tell him about all of the yummy food that gets put out during the holiday season.

Mmm...seafood.

Who knew you could get such good seafood here in Chicago? As you all know, I loove Halloween and, in the past, have always gotten a costume for Louie. Well, just IMAGINE my excitement at having a little baby to dress up this year! Unfortunately for the dog, it doesn't mean he's off the hook. Now, just IMAGINE my excitement at finding a lobster costume for BOTH OF THEM. Odd...neither of them were nearly as excited. Party poopers.

There was a Halloween parade at daycare, so Sam marched (er, rolled in a big stoller-thingee) through the halls with an elephant, a couple of pumpkins, the Easter Bunny, Eyore, a strawberry and a spider. He and Louie both donned their costumes again that night, but they were pretty short lived.

I've been traveling alot, so there's been a lot of "guy" time at the Mendez house. Everyone seemed to do quite well and Sam never once wore dripped cheese or wing sauce, so it was a pretty successful week. (Not sure how Adrian fared.)

Poor Sam headed back to the doctor and apparently has bronchitis. He's got some medicine now, so I think we're headed in the right direction. (And it's that yummy pink bubble gum stuff. I totally forgot how good that was!) The boogie monster continues to be his mortal enemy. The little man is packing on the pounds too, as he was 14 pounds, 10 oz. at his appointment.

Sam pretty much has his hands or fists in his mouth as long as he's awake and there's a lot of gnawing and drooling going on. We can't feel any teeth coming through, so we're not sure if that's the cause...or that he just likes to chew on stuff. Thinking of giving him Louie's extra kong.