Everyday Conversations

Hamilton talks so much about everything now, especially those things familiar to him. Since we have dogs and diapers, we deal with poo daily. I tried my hardest yesterday afternoon to get Hamilton to sing his familiar songs in his precious voice, but all I got was a conversation with a two-year-old about poo. I don't think I imagined motherhood would be this way. It's still cute, though.

Catch-Up List

Yes, we're still sad about Phoebe; but contrary to the blog's previous front-page post, life continues. I have much to share from the last two weeks. And I have pictures, especially for those wonderful grandparents.

1. My women's conference over two weeks ago was fabulous--no kids, no cooking, no chores! We heard awesome teaching, and I got to hang out with some cool chickies! We ran into lots of friends from other churches, despite nearly 2000 women in attendance. I was surprised and delighted to see my high school chum one morning at breakfast.

2. I've weaned Collier, so he's now fully drinking formula. I was eager to wean because--to me--breast-feeding gets old. I was ready to have my body (and time) back to myself. As I type, I think this all sounds selfish, but I was really ready to be finished with pumping. I weaned Hamilton between five and six months, too.

3. Hamilton does lots of new things now, like saying, "I wuv you!" He loves giving and asking for "high fives." He sings many of his familiar songs in distinguishable words and tunes; I'm really hoping for a video of his rendition of "ABC" soon.

4. We celebrated Mr. Morgan's birthday with Claire on Thursday night. She made him a brightly colored card, and because she had extra clay on hand from social studies class, created a sculpture of herself for him. What father wouldn't love a clay figurine of his daughter? Nevermind that Hamilton points and says, "poop" every time he sees it.

I thought it improved from far away. Something about the tilt of the head and ponytail, I think, is what I like.

5. My blogging has been so light this month, and my other writing is non-existent. I'm not sure why I'm feeling so uninspired these days, but not meeting with my writers' group every few weeks has not helped. Our coffee-fueled discussions helped hold me accountable to writing and blogging, inspiring me with ideas and reaffirming my purpose. Christy and Patty, I miss you! I know there were excellent reasons why we took a break from writers' group, but let's start again soon.

6. Mr. Morgan and I started a cleanse this morning. I'll probably post about our three days without solid food once we're closer to the end.

7. I found a fantastic food blog last week with delicious sounding recipes. I tried the pumpkin spice bars and cookies. The bars were delicious but crumbly because I added raisins and pecans. Sadly, I burned the cookies, but they would have been great without the scald.

Since this post is already long, I'll create another with pictures of the boys from our weekend in the mountains.

In Mourning

Wow, what a long time since my last post. Sweet Papa Joe called thinking I might have been sick. I have many new items to post and a new layout option to check out, but I must first post about our difficult week.

Our dear Feebs left this world last Saturday, and we greatly feel her loss. Mr. Morgan and the boys went to the farm to hang out, and I went to a women's conference in Atlanta. After a tragic accident, Phoebe was laid to rest at the farm--a place she loved because she had so much freedom to roam and so many places to explore. I wanted to remember Phoebe on the blog as the sweet-natured dog that she was. Her small stature and cocked-head grin could melt any heart.

She was a constant companion to Fatty, encouraging Fatty to act years younger than her bones make her feel. A Fourth of July before we had kids to dress up, we adorned Phoebe and Fatty with festive bandanas for their necks.

Phoebe's gazelle-like bounding around the yard always made us smile. She loved to chew on her toys--and the boys'. She loved to scavenge after our meals and eat her own, though sometimes standing was just too much effort while licking her bowl clean.

And she loved freshly popped popcorn. She and Fatty were in the kitchen because of the melodious sounds of kernels popping.

She didn't mind eating her food off the floor when Hamilton helped feed her.

Phoebe had a special affinity for Mr. Morgan. Even when her bath was done, she didn't want to be far away from him.

She loved sitting in his lap.

Phoebe cozied up to anything that smelled like us--piles of laundry, the babies' Boppy, etc.

Rest in peace, dear Feebs. We'll miss you so.

Twenty-One Months Old

Today Hamilton is 21 months old, and I've always thought about my boys' being 21 months apart in age. So planning this monthly update made the next one's appearance so much more real and definite. I've compiled a things-to-buy-before-the-baby-comes list for several weeks, but today Hamilton and I finally went to Babies "R" Us for the necessary items (e.g., newborn diapers).

Hamilton's vocabulary continues to expand, and he's much more eager to try to repeat words that I say. He's also putting more of his words together into phrases, even without prompting. Sunday Hamilton and I drove separately to church from Mr. Morgan, and as we pulled into our parking space beside Mr. Morgan's Explorer, Hamilton said, "Dada truh." I'm not sure that Hamilton actually recognized the vehicle because he's since said that phrase for some general trucks that don't look anything like our Explorer. But maybe he did recognize the Explorer and realize that he could describe it with two of his known words.

He's also begun putting together other known words like "nih, nih, Mama," and "bye-bye, Dada." He now calls the dogs by their names: "Faa-e" and "Fee." He's copied my hand gestures for when I fuss at the dogs, and he likes to say, "gii," as he seriously waves his hand. I guess the phrase he's heard me say to the dogs the most is "Get out of the kitchen!" Another gesture that I suppose Hamilton picked up from watching us is throwing his hands and arms out to his side as if to say, "Where is it?" He does this gesture whenever we're looking for something or if he doesn't know where something is.

I've started concentrating on getting Hamilton to help clean up his toys, which requires patience and energy on my part that I sometimes don't have. In the last few days he's shown me my labor has not been in vain. He's capable now of putting away his favorite puzzle after he plays with it--with little assistance or cajoling from me. Since he unpacks this puzzle half a dozen times a day, I'm thankful for this newly acquired skill.

Hamilton's latest sign is "hurt." Mr. Morgan taught him the word "boo-boo" to go with the sign, and Hamilton's good at pointing to scrapes and scratches while using his new word. If he cries like he's hurting, then I'll ask him what hurts (using the sign), and he's begun knowing what I mean.

He still loves trucks especially the little ones that Uncle Billy and Aunt Linda bought him at a yard sale back around the holidays. He can play with one truck for a long time running it over many different surfaces around the house.

Helping Daddy

Saturday morning Hamilton helped Mr. Morgan feed the dogs their breakfast. Fortunately, Phoebe is not opposed to eating her food off the floor.

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Puppies and PJs

Hamilton loves Fatty and Phoebe especially when they sit close to him or let him sit with them in their bed. Hamilton and Fatty play tug-of-war with the dogs' ratty blanket, and he likes to mimic Fatty's growling as though it's a game. I'm pretty sure Fatty's just tired of his antics or his hands-on attention, which elicit her throaty rumble, but Hamilton responds nonetheless.

Saturday morning as we prepared Hamilton's big-boy room for painting, he wandered in. The puppies were enjoying the streaming, warm sunlight from the south-facing windows, and Hamilton plopped himself in between them like they're three peas in a pod.