First haircut

This past Wednesday, the husband and I took Logan to get his first haircut. His hair had gotten so long that curls were starting to go down his neck and over his ears. It was time. While I showered my husband made the appointment. My stomach hurt a bit when he told me it was for 10:30.

When we arrived, Logan seemed excited. I was thinking about his baby hair, which we would soon be chopping off. When it was his turn he had a choice of movie to watch. He picked Elmo. He also got to choose a car to sit in. He sat in the fire truck. So far, so good. When the hairdresser tried to put the drape over him, he freaked out. He started screaming and fighting. I ended up holding him in my lap, trying to distract him the whole time. I guess in a way, it was good since I wasn't able to focus on the hair falling onto the floor. I probably would have cried if he had sat nicely. When we left, he came out sporting a new shorter curly do. Still adorable, and still my baby. As for the baby hair? I got a couple of curly locks to take home with me for his baby book.

Salsa chicken

Today for dinner I made a family favorite for dinner. Both of my boys and guests (one being my picky sister) love this main dish. It is the laziest one in the world, which means I love it too. It is called Salsa Chicken, because that is the two ingredients you need. Chicken and salsa.

All you need is a crock pot. Set said crock pot up and take the chicken and put it into the crock pot. I have used chicken breasts and chicken tenderloins. I'm not a big fan of dark meat, but that would probably work too. Next open a jar of salsa and pour it on the chicken. I've used all kinds of salsa, but my favorites thus far have been tequila lime and mango salsa. I go with more mild salsa since I'm feeding a picky toddler and I'm not a big fan of super spiciness. If you like it hot, by all means go for it. It's all about customization, friends. Then put crock pot on low for five to six hours. All crock pot cooking times are different though, so use your judgement. Sometimes a half hour before the chicken is finished cooking, I add some frozen peppers and onions. I love fresh vegetables, but this package can be used multiple times; taste as fresh and yummy; and is only around $1.50. I'm all about saving money here, without compromising on taste. Once cooked, take chicken out and shred it. Add it back to crock pot and stir so it absorbs extra salsa. Serve soft taco style. Viola! Deliciousness.

18 months

Dear Bugga Bugga Baby,

Today you are 18 months old. Which means that you are officially a year and a half old. So, today is your half birthday. When I was a kid, and someone asks me my age, I always want to throw in the half. "I'm 8 AND A HALF,"I would say proudly, approximately 100 years ago. Adults never mention the half, and many of them have certainly forgotten the magic behind it. But your Mama didn't forget. I hold onto whatever little bit of magic I can. So today I made you a half of a cake to commemorate your half birthday.

Okay, so I know it's not perfect, but you didn't mind one bit. Your eyes got big and you said, "Happy Mama!" as you pulled sprinkles off one by one and stuck them in your mouth. That being said, you didn't even eat your piece of cake, and when I tried to make you take one bite, your eyes filled up with tears. Obviously, you thought I was being so mean, because I was trying to make you eat dessert. You preferred to squish it between your fingers. I can't blame you. It looked like fun.

You are changing right before my eyes. Suddenly you seem more grown up. It might have to do with the fact that you are in the midst of a language explosion. You repeat everything. You are constantly using new words and for the most part say them pretty clearly. I still understand you the best though and occasionally have to translate. We can actually carry on conversations now, and you are stringing two and three words together. There are some words that you refuse to try and say. You will attempt to say words like "ridiculous," but shake your head when I ask you to say, "love." But that is okay. You show me you love me in other ways. You will stop playing and come over and hug and kiss me. You say "my mama" all of the time. You like to wrap your arms around my legs when I am standing and squish my face between your two hands. And your new thing is trying to tickle me, and then ask for, "More tickle" in return. I've also taught you to "tickle" the cats, since it is far more gentle than when you try to "pet" them.

You love all and any animals. You have become best buddies with Smudge, who you like to pet, and sometimes rest your head on. You also like to sniff his fur, and say, "Smudge stinks" (which he doesn't, but you like to pretend everything stinks). You will throw toys for him and laugh and laugh and laugh when he rolls around on the carpet. Scout is still afraid of you, but you have been determined to try and make him your friend. I think it is working, because when you are sleeping he will come over and look at you. This love for animals is something that I hope you will always have.

You are just so happy. You love most everything, with the exception of loud noises, trying new food, and those $1 rides in the mall. You are thrilled with your swing, crocs, the park, finger paint, sippy cups, birds, walking, crawling, hopping, running, bouncy balls, trampolines, flags, sidewalk chalk, singing songs, whispering secrets, music, the library, Tinkerbell and angels, pinwheels, balloons, and each and every new flower that appears in our yard, including the weeds. Let me assure you, my sweet boy, that I missed about a million other things. You name it, and you love it like that singular thing is the most special thing in the world.

When I look at you, I see a little boy who is so full of joy, that you can barely contain it. You are amazed by everything and love so fully and completely that it takes my breath away. I pray that you always are this way. In seeing this in you, you have taught me that this is the way that I want to live my life too. So for that, I thank you.

Love,

Mama