The Beach Post

Warning: Picture overload (and no...these are not the only pictures I took).

This past week, we went on our annual vacation to Destin, Florida. We've been going for several years but this year, there was one big difference...

We made the decision because we didn't want a screaming baby all the way to Florida because we are super rebels, to turn C-Bizzle around 2 weeks before his 1st birthday so that he could enjoy the scenery as we drove.

Once we were there. He was ready for the beach. Can't you tell?
Daddy introduced him to the water, but it turns out, he didn't need much convincing to get right in.
He was a perfect sport and napped on the beach in his cheapo kiddie pool waterbed every day.

He was definitely able to find trouble down there as well.

Bad little thing.
Haha. Yes...I went to get my camera before helping my son up after he fell. Mom of the year.
C was a beach natural, despite his condition. Who says the fair-complected can't enjoy a little fun in the sun? That's why God created 100 spf sunscreen. Seriously.

He really liked loved the sand.

He loved it all.
He even got the chance to chase after an older woman. Look at those cute little beach bums!
I should have known he would not be afraid of the water.
No fear.

No need to alert the authorities. Billbo was standing right there as I took pictures of our fearless child.

I posted this blurry pic in hopes that Billbo will get me a new camera for my birthday because C-Bizzle looks so cute when he's blurry.

For those of you who are worried that I am becoming a sentimental schmuck who only posts baby pictures on my this blog, stay tuned for tomorrow's post: Top Ten Beach Peeves.

Mother of the Year

This morning, I may or may not have deserved a visit from DCS. It started out innocently enough. C and I slept in a little since my awesome boss covered my announcement in court this morning. We got up and had breakfast (me: egg whites w/ feta cheese crumbles; C: cottage cheese and 1/2 of a Van's Organic Waffle). I put C-Bizzle in his outfit for the day and went to the bathroom. It took all of 2.5 seconds for the morning to go awry.

C-Note is no stranger to danger.

I, on the other hand am safety first. Pictured below: Carter strapped to me in a BabyBjorn during the last round of tornadoes because I didn't want to be separated from him.

Anyway, back to this morning and my campaign for mother of the year. C has been increasingly mischievous lately. The more mobile he gets, the more trouble he finds.
I went to the bathroom and 2 seconds later, I peeked around the corner and saw this...
Only it was turned on it's side and the familiar, piercing, public swimming pool smell was burning my nose. Carter got into Billbo's cabinet under his bathroom sink and turned over a container of bleach. It had a top on it, but apparently, the top was not screwed on properly, because bleach was leaking all over my floor (which probably wasn't a bad thing) and all over C-Note.

Great.

I jumped up and picked C up, stripped his bleach-soaked shorts off and bathed him to try and get the bleach off of him as soon as possible. He laughed the entire time while I panicked.

Before you judge me for not having this cabinet secured already, let me just say in my defense that C is usually only interested in my sink, because that's where all the electrical cords and really fun, dangerous things are.

Anyway, I didn't have a way to secure the door, so I improvised with Berry's puppy collar.

Ghetto Impressive improvisation, no?

Whatever. It did the trick.

Yikes. Luckily, C-Note is totally fine. He didn't ingest any bleach (which is the first time this month he came into contact with something that did not go directly into his mouth), and he didn't suffer any burns or irritations on his little legs from the bleach (possibly because I ripped his clothes off and bathed the bleach off at the speed of light).

Guess I can take my name out of the running for mother of the year. And for employee of the year...I left my house for work after this morning's debacle at 10:50 a.m. Total fail.

Danger is My Middle Name

Okay, that is not true. In fact, it is completely false. I hate anything and everything dangerous. I have always been the kind of girl who followed the rules for fear of getting in trouble. I rarely take risks and I do not like to gamble. (I know, this post is making me sound like a superfun rockstar). Safety first.

C-Note has a different idea of fun, it seems. Greeeaaattt.

He wakes up thinking of things to do to make me worry.

"Ahh what to worry mom with next..."
"Perhaps I should try to escape, or at least yank the blinds down on top of me."
"Hmm...not scary enough."
"What if I played with electrical outlets?"
"That's more like it."
"It's so much fun making Mommy run after me as I dive off the bed and reach for the outlets."
Berry is CB's favorite accomplice. Lucky for me, the dogs are worriers, too. Berry is my secret babysitter. My second pair of eyes.

"Wonder if Mom will care if I play in the fireplace."

C-Money is apparently fearless. Here he is, hanging upside down.
More upside down fun.
Where did he get these daredevil traits?

Definitely all boy, that one. I'm sure I'll give him plenty of embarrassing payback.