SCORE!!!

Boxes of cereal purchased = 28

Approximate total before discounts= $98

Total after discounts ( buy 4 get $6 off) and

($15 in internet coupons) = $41 out-of-pocket cost

Additional savings = 7 catalina coupons printed from

register for free 1 gallon milk on a future shopping trip

Overall expense (subtracting the value of the free

milk) = about $17 for 28 boxes of cereal (a variety)

Number of wonderful babies who slept through it all = 1

Number of super, polite cashiers who made this possible = 1

Number of slap-happy Mommies who are about to drift off to sleep

counting boxes of Cheerios instead of sheep = 1

BACK ON THE LINE

Old phone, and new phone.

After three weeks, I am back in the world of cell phones. 

Three weeks ago, I put my phone through the washing machine and the dryer. As you might guess, that's bad for the phone. Really bad. The phone died.

Although there were definitely things that became difficult (like, you know, calling friends on the phone), I must admit that I did not miss my phone very much. 

The combination of lack of time and lack of urgency delayed the process of getting a replacement. I finally went on Saturday, and learned I was not eligible for an upgrade. Nor did I have phone insurance. That meant to walk out of the store that day with a basic phone (our budget does not have room for anything more than basic phones right now) would have cost about $200.

Unless I was willing to wait three more days to have a used phone shipped to the house for $75. I figured, what the hell, I've gone two-plus weeks, what's another three days? Well, another three days meant $125 in savings, so it was a no brainer.

So the phone came last night. My text and voicemail messages came in, but all my contacts were gone. It'll take a while to build the contacts back up (if you have my number, call or text me with yours). The most depressing message? The voicemail from myself, when my phone called itself while floating around in the washing machine.

whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh… bzzzzzippp.

and then… silence.

For three full weeks.

WE NEED A PLAN (PART 2)

"could u pick me up a flat screen if ur still @ target?"

Ha ha ha! Nice try.

The message was from a friend in response to a text message I sent to a few friends who are fellow Target customers. When I sent my message I was at the entrance to our local store, list in hand. It felt good to be out of the house and about to cross another thing off my to-do list. The same big cloud was over my head once again though. GAS!!!!!!

(GROSS! Not that kind of cloud.)

Anyhow...I was thinking about the sign at the gas station I'd passed on my way to Target advertising $3.50 per gallon. Angry as I was, it became my inspiration at that moment and I had my big idea of the day: a shopping club.

If we all start consolidating shopping trips, either by car-pooling or by grabbing a few things needed for friends and family, we will all save a little time and money. I'm open to ideas about how to make this work. We'll figure it out. We HAVE to.

By the way, one friend took me up on the offer and, no, I did not buy her a flat screen t.v. (That was another very funny friend who was very out of luck.) No, I purchased something for a someone I'll see later today who has extended the same offer to me time and again.

That's what friends are for…passing gas!

EMBARRASSMENT OF RICHES

We enjoyed an embarrassment of riches last night, to the point where we truly started to be embarrassed.

There was a special fundraiser held at the Robertson Elementary School in Warwick, R.I. for Mitch Levin and his family. Levin, whom we have never met, happens to be a patrolman on the police force at the University of Rhode Island, where I work.

Levin, who lives in Warwick, has been in the hospital since the day after Christmas with endocarditis. During his recovery, he suffered an aneurysm. Obviously, it's a tough time for the family.

A couple nights ago, the Wife mentioned going to the fundraiser, which a friend of ours - Pam - helped organize. Rhode Island being the way it is, I knew of the fundraiser because of work, so we decided to make a night of it.

Here's where the embarrassment kicked in. As part of the fundraiser, you bought raffle tickets, 20 for $10. There were about 30 prizes up for grabs, and you could choose to put your tickets in the drawings for the specific prizes you wanted to win.

Of the roughly 30 prizes, we won six.

It started with four tickets to a live show for Barney. Before they announced the winner, I turned to the Wife and our friend Alissa and said, "I'm going to win." We laughed a moment later when my prediction came true.

Then we won a $25 gift card to the Remington House, a local eatery. Next was a bucket of craft prizes donated by a Girl Scout troop. Then it was a gift certificate for two large pizzas from Dominos with a blanket. After that was another gift certificate for pizza place, with another blanket. Finally, we won a huge tray of cookies.

It got to the point where we were saying to ourselves, "Please don't win again. Please don't win again."

We didn't go to the fundraiser with the intent of winning a stash. With everything the Levin family is going through, it just seemed a little wrong for us to benefit so much.

So we paid it forward. We asked Pam, the organizer, to give the gift certificates for the Remington House and the pizza places to the Levins. Maybe a few nights of not thinking about food can help a little.

The bucket of crafts went home with Alissa, who in turn is going to give it to her friend, who has a young daughter. I think the Barney tickets will go to my brother and his girlfriend so they can take their boys.

Our goal in going out last night was to do a little bit to help someone else. Hopefully by sharing what we won, we are doing just that.

(By the way, International Pay It Forward Day is April 28, 2011. Check out this Website to learn more.)

SOMETHING SIMPLE TODAY

Sometimes inspiration comes in the most unexpected places. Sometimes beauty sneaks up on us. Sometimes just listening makes all the difference.

Yesterday was one of those blah days we all get from time to time. It was the kind of day you just try to get through. By the end of the night I really needed something out-of-the-ordinary to turn it around.

Then, as I sat on the couch about to doze off, I saw a yogurt commercial that changed everything. Yes, a yogurt commercial did it. Greek yogurt. I could go on and on about the words I heard, but I don't think I'd do it justice. Instead, take a listen and see if this something small lifts you too.

Enjoy!

WHEN LIFE STINKS, GO AHEAD AND LAUGH

Bathroom humor has always been funny.

It was funny two days ago, when I changed the Little One's diaper and was almost knocked over by the stench that came from inside. The nugget he created was unlike anything he'd done before, and I was shocked by the power of smell he could create.

Apparently my reaction to the smell was funny to him because the Little One smiled and laughed as I turned my head and said, "Oh God. That stinks!"

These are moments I've always found funny. What can I say? I am a male. Farts and bad smells will always be funny in a totally gross and inexplicable way.

This is nothing new. One of my favorite pictures from childhood comes from a cross-country vacation my parents took us on. I believe the photo was taken near the Grand Canyon, and it is me stepping out of an outhouse.

My mother, younger sister and older brother were all waiting for me, pinching their noses and appearing to be grossed out.

We learned at an early age it was okay to laugh at things and poke fun at ourselves. Life is serious enough. It's going to stink from time to time.

And when those stinky moments come, you can be sure that I'll be laughing.

SIX-MONTH BOOGIES ARE FUNNY

A major training session went on in our house recently and the Little One was not happy. Well, not at first anyway.

No, he isn't learning to use the toilet. That is years away.

He is, however, fighting another nasty cold. This time it has stayed in his nose, which is good news.... I guess. Dr. M. took a peek yesterday and proclaimed that all he needs is rest, snuggles and to learn how to blow his nose. Since that last part isn't happening any time soon either, she recommended attacking his congestion with saline solution and a bulb syringe. Not what the Little One wanted to hear.

He is not exactly a big fan of either stuffy nose tool. He tolerated both until winter came and brought the first of many colds. Now he knows the drill and starts to kick his feet and squirm when he sees me grab the saline. He has pushed my arms away, tried to cover his face and recently wrapped his "monkey feet" around my arm and pulled down to move me away from his nose.

Yesterday the Husband was on Little One duty for a big part of the day, which meant he would be the squirt and suction man. He'd mastered the suction, but hadn't tried his hand at the saline spray yet. The Little One was thrilled to have both of us crowded around him at the diaper changing table. He changed his mind though when he spied that little, red bottle in my hand. The poor kid looked back and forth at us and then tried to make an escape. It took us a full minute and a lot of energy to hold him down long enough to spray. He let out a loud grunt to complain, but recovered quickly.

When round two started and he saw the syringe, the Little One once again turned into a wiggly noodle. Not more than Team Mommy and Daddy could handle though.

The result? Well, as happens with every successful suction (and you know what I mean by "successful"), the Little One went from mad to amused in a matter of seconds. As gross as it is to us, at six months old, boogies are funny. Very funny!

And for that we are very grateful!

TIME TO TURN IN

Last night, we did something we don't do often enough. We went to bed at a reasonable hour.

By reasonable, it was just after 10 p.m. Yes, that is early for us.

Don't get me wrong. We are often asleep before 10 p.m. We just don't happen to be in our bed.

With the Little One around, we want to spend as much time as possible with him. Once he goes to bed, we work on getting stuff ready for the next day. By stuff, I mean bottles, spare clothes for the Little One, lunches for ourselves, etc.

We also want to do our best to find time for each other. That time together often consists of trying to watch an episode of one of the many shows saved in our DVR. At last check, we had four episodes of Parks and Recreation, two episodes of Mr. Sunshine (which we have never watched), an episode of Perfect Couples (which we have started to watch on two different nights so far) plus some episodes of The Nate Berkus Show (which I did not put in the DVR).

Usually we get to see about 15 minutes of a show before one or both of us is out cold. We're both fans of falling asleep on the couch, although that is changing more and more as we age.

See, we used to wake up on the couch, go upstairs and go to bed. Now, we wake up on the couch, go upstairs, change the Little One's diaper, go to the bathroom ourselves, complain about being so stiff, feed the Little One, realize we need to brush our teeth and then finally go to bed.

It's not the best routine in the world. 

Which is why, starting last night, we are making a better effort to get ourselves to bed. If that means falling even further behind on our favorite shows, so be it. 

We need the sleep.

EDIT: We went to bed as planned, but the Little One woke up several times throughout the night sick and congested. So we wound up not sleeping very much despite our best efforts. Now we really need the sleep :-)

WE NEED A PLAN

On a daily basis I make a conscious effort to not worry myself into a tizzy about the things in life that don't or MIGHT not go smoothly. Over the years the Husband has helped me realize that when I'm faced with bad things I can't control, the one thing I have a say in is how much I let myself worry. He's helped me become much more of an optimist then I ever imagined for myself.

Lately, I've found a new worry to battle. I this case though, I think a little worry is a good thing and a lot of action on our part is a HUGE thing. I'm talking about oil. In my mind it is quickly becoming enemy #1.

I have to fill my gas tank today and I'm not looking forward to seeing the price tag that comes with that chore. I've avoided listening to the news reports estimating the price of gasoline by summer, but I've heard enough to know that it is much higher than the already bank-breaking prices we are paying now.

While I hate having to pay the extra money, I will for now because I need that gas to get to my job. I'm dependent on it.

What I'd like to do is come up with ways to be more efficient with the gas I use and develop a strategy for filling up less often. Do you have any suggestions?

FANS FOR A DAY

One of these pictures is what came up when I did a Google images search for "NASCAR fans" last night. The other image is how the Wife, the Little One and I dressed for a NASCAR themed party on Sunday for the Daytona 500.

Can you tell which is which?

Sunday's party was actually a birthday party for my sister's boyfriend, Uncle Matt. He was excited that his birthday fell on the same day as the big race, so we made a fun day of it.

Uncle Matt actually went out and bought a special Dale Earnhardt, Jr. outfit for the Little One to wear. So of course, the Little One drew Junior as his car to root for in the driver pool we had for the party, which the Wife happened to win, thanks to the performance of rookie Trevor Bayne.

It was a great time. Aunt Tara (my sister) went all out on the concessions. There were NASCAR Nachos, Pole Position Popcorn, Pit Crew Pretzels, Boogity, Boogity, Boogity Balls, and much more. If you don't know what a Boogity, Boogity, Boogity Ball is, welcome to the club.

It's a meatball named for the saying that former Daytona winner and current analyst Darrell Waltrip spouts at the start of each race. With that piece of knowledge, Aunt Tara proved she knew more about NASCAR than the Wife and I combined.

The Wife and I won for best costume, with a diaper-clad Little One putting us over the top for the victory. 

It was a great day all the way around. 

Happy Birthday, Uncle Matt!

I SEE

As we've mentioned in recent posts, the Little One is on the move. He couldn't be more thrilled about it and neither could we. Once again he is teaching us to stop and smell the roses of life. Today's LOL (Little One Lesson) for Mom and Dad:

It might be a challenge to get there, but looking at things

from a different perspective is an awesome reward!

NEWFANGLED CONTRAPTION

What is this thing?

The Wife's car is in the shop, and since she has several home visits for her job that she really can't postpone today, she has my car.

Which means I have no car. Combine that with the fact that I have not made it to the Verizon store to replace the cell phone that I killed last week, and I am feeling quite out of sorts today.

I'll be working from home, which means I feel fortunate to have Internet access, so I am at least somewhat connected to this world that I have come to know. 

In preparation for this day, I wanted to leave our home phone number for my co-workers, in case they needed to reach me today. Only problem was, I had no idea what our home phone number is. I had to call the Wife to ask. 

I felt a little better when she had to put me on hold and go look the number up. Turns out neither of us know what our home number is.

She at least has the number programmed into her cell phone. I know this because she called the house the other day. I didn't answer in time because I could not remember which room the phone was kept in. 

I realized that, after two-and-a-half years in our home, I have neither dialed our home nor used our landline. I guess it's there for "just in case" purposes - such as today - but it's a big change from childhood. 

There were times when getting access to the phone meant you had successfully wrestled it away from a sibling. Call waiting was a huge breakthrough because it meant maybe, just maybe, your friend was trying to call back.

Now, if the landline rings, we don't answer because only telemarketers know that number.

Well, telemarketers and my co-workers.

PHASE TWO HAS BEGUN

What? WHAT!!!!!!!!

That is the thought that ran, no, bolted through mind last night as we stood in the doorway looking into the LIttle One's room.

We knew he was sleepy, but awake, when I put him in his crib a few minutes before. I hadn't even left the room when he started his newest routine of rolling himself over and back. When I reached our room I told the Husband about the action that was taking place in the crib down the hall after lights out. Curious, he tip-toed down the hall and peeked into the room. A moment later he came back and told me that I had to come see the "jail bird," as he called him.

"He is on his side but has himself pressed up against the railing with both hands holding on to the bars."

We crept back down the hall together and carefully looked into the room. The Husband pulled the door open more so that the hall light would illuminate our view better. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the difference in the light, but then I saw him just as the Husband had described. Two fists holding on to pull himself to the side. Very creative!

Then it happened. There was movement and my eyes had to re-focus. I gasped when I saw it. His little hand curled tight around the top rail. In that instant it was too easy to picture him pulling himself up to sit and then… The Husband must have had the same thought, because he was in the room in a heartbeat.

We stood there in the silence looking at him. Of course, our smiling guy thought it was awesome that Mommy and Daddy were both there to play with him. That WASN'T about to happen.

What did happen was a rare sleepover with us and a plan to lower the crib mattress today. While we are at it, we will start collecting baby gates, locking cabinets and, at the rate he is going, I think we should hide the car keys too. Ready or not, our Little One has entered "phase two" of infancy. Let the fun begin…again!

GOING WITHOUT IS GOOD, YET I WANT MORE

The cell, in its final resting place.

I've been without a cell phone for four days now.

The world has not stopped.

Without question, it has been a pain in the butt when it comes to certain things… making phone calls, getting in touch with people, knowing that I am missing messages, etc.

For example, I know my sister is having a tough week. I don't know her cell phone number because of my reliance on the contacts function on cell phones. Not that I have a phone to call her with anyway.

On the other hand, I like that I get in my car and don't automatically reach for my pocket to call someone, simply because I can. I like that I've broken away from texting, which I've never done a ton of anyway.

Cell phones are great and they have made so many things convenient for us. It's just always a good idea every once in a while to step back from the technology in our lives.

And yet, even as I write that, I'm holding out hope that this might be the trip to the wireless phone shop during which I convince the Wife that a SmartPhone of some sort is a good idea.

SOMETHING FANCY TODAY

In response to yesterday's post by The Husband about the rut he was in earlier this week, I'll share a story that I told him to cheer him up. It comes from our friend and fellow blogger Liss over at Looking for the Big Yellow Tent.

The Lion King musical is in town for a few weeks and, like several people I know, Liss jumped at the chance to see it. She smartly decided to treat herself, her husband and pre-teen sons to a viewing. As she put it, the boys are now at the perfect age to appreciate the show. She figured that if they wait until the show comes back to town in five years or so, the boys will be teenagers and not be as impressed. Like I said, she's a clever lady because they loved it! One son smiled from start to finish.

My favorite part of the story is that upon hearing that they were going to the show the boys decided that going out to dinner first would make the night absolutely over-the-moon perfect. Not just any ordinary restaurant would do however. They requested somewhere fancy for their big night out. And what was the fancy place they longed for? The Olive Garden, of course.

We laughed about this and appreciated the innocence and perspective that comes with being a kid. The more we talked though, the more we realized how right-on they were. Who doesn't love The Olive Garden? Endless breadsticks! Salad covered in a yummy, addictive house dressing that makes diners not care about extra calories and fat! Free wine samples! Cozy tables and Godfather-esque music piped into the background! It's the perfect Americanized taste of Italy.

Like the musical, their trip to The Olive Garden did not disappoint. Those awesome boys are also brilliant. I wonder where they think the Husband and I should dine on our upcoming date night?

THE RUT

Dinner, after three re-heats.

Saturday night, the Wife and I intended to go out on a date.

That plan was cancelled when the Little One was up all night on Friday with a cold that kept him coughing and crying all night. When nobody gets more than 20 minutes straight of sleep on a Friday, it pretty much kills hope for the Saturday date.

It also means no attending the birthday party of our friend's 2-year-old.

Knowing we'd be staying home Saturday night, I rented Despicable Me and Red from the Red Box for us to watch. Neither one ever saw the DVD player that night. 

On Sunday, I didn't check my pockets and wound up putting the cell phone through the washing machine and dryer. This may shock you, but that phone is no longer working. I did get to watch Red, alone, since the Wife stayed awake for about 10 minutes of it.

Monday night, I made a pasta dinner for the Wife and myself. Three hours later, after three re-heatings in the microwave, I finally got to eat it.

It all left me cranky Tuesday when I got home from work. I was hungry and generally annoyed. Not at anything in particular. Just grumpy.

Then the Wife handed me the Little One, who was asleep. His head felt like it weighed 50 pounds on my shoulder, and yet all the negative feelings lifted away.

RULES OF THE GAME

I like sports. Not in the same way that the Husband does.

He LOVES sports.

I like sports just enough to meet the "cool wife" criteria. By that I mean that I like sports enough to sit on the couch next to him on Sundays in the fall and enjoy watching the home team play football. I like sports enough to pay attention when the nightly news program does a 30-second recap of that day's Red Sox game. I even like sports enough to play in the occasional backyard family game of soccer or Wiiffle Ball.

In spite of this, I have my limits when it comes to liking sports. In my mind, no game is worth sitting in the cold to watch. I don't condone paying ridiculous amounts of money to go to sporting events when the view from the couch is better. I also think it is crazy that several top baseball players get paid enough in a year that they could individually fund the athletic program of a public school system. It is hard to watch a major league game when I know that at that moment there are countless athletic programs on the chopping block because school districts need to cut costs somewhere.

The Husband doesn't see eye to eye with me on all of those arguments. Luckily though, we agree on the big ones. Whether or not he is eventually an athlete himself someday, the Little One will know about sports. Here are the top five things he needs to know:

5. Never wear cleats in the house.

4. Effort is often more important than an end result.

3. There is a difference between confidence and cockiness. Understanding that

difference is very important. Confidence is encouraged. Cockiness, not so much.

2. It is okay to love a team so much that they can break your heart. It only makes it sweeter when they come through.

1. Under no circumstances is booing acceptable.

Oh, and one more that goes without saying:

*No matter how you play sports or even if you play, Mommy and Daddy will always be your biggest fans!

SOMETHING TO SNEEZE AT

Pre Sneeze

The Little One loves to sneeze.

We have no idea why. But moments before he lets loose with one, his face scrunches up and pauses for the briefest of moments, and then he lets loose. 

On most occasions, he is a double-sneezer, the second one coming about 1.5 seconds after the first. There is usually a line of spit connected to his mouth and chin in the aftermath of these events. That stuff doesn't seem to bother him. Once the sneeze is done, he gathers control of his face again, and he smiles from ear to ear.

Every single time.

Maybe it's because he is getting rid of some congestion and he can breathe easier. Maybe it's because he feels a little more alive after getting rocked back by a big one. Or maybe he just happens to think he is making a really cool noise, and he is proud of himself.

I'm not sure why this is on my mind today, but I love watching it happen. It's only natural that, as a baby who attends day care, the Little One is constantly picking up fresh batches of germs.

Without question, these germs are causing the sneezing, so I should probably be grossed out by the germs he is hurtling through the air.

But I'm not. He cracks me up when he breaks out into a big smile after each sneeze,

It cracks him up to, so we'll just let it be funny.

Post sneeze

PLACE AD HERE

The Little One advertising
for his uncle.

Hooray! Hooray! We only used two bibs today!

For a while I doubted we would ever get to this milestone. There were days at the height of the Little One's reflux that we went through several bibs every hour. Back then I learned the art of planning his outfits based on what would match the first clean bib I could find. So munch of the Little One's cutest clothing was disguised by bibs during these last few months. 

When that Powerball comes through for us I just might start a designer bib line so that perpetually spitty babies like my own can look as charming and fashionable as possible with spit-up on their chin.

Just for fun I Googled "funny baby bibs." Apparently I'm not the only one who has thought of capitalizing on the free ad space that hangs around babies' necks. My favorites are shown below. Notice that they reference certain bodily functions. As of today the Little One doesn't own any such bibs, but it's only a matter of time. What else should I expect for a baby whose father has more than one t-shirt with what my grandmother used to call "bathroom humor" printed on it.

Enjoy!

THE WORDS OF GRANDPA

The Little One had a great
day with Grandpa.

Yesterday, the Little One got to spend the entire day with Grandpa, who is up visiting from North Carolina for a few days. Even though they don't get to see each other often, the two have them have a special bond.

Watching my father with my son, I can't help but smile. It's easy to see what it means to Dad to hold the Little One, who also seems to understand he is lucky to have each of his grandparents in his life.

With yesterday fresh on our minds, we have decided to share the poem Grandpa wrote for the Wife and I the day the Little One was born. Enjoy.

A Night Ever Special


I doubt that I will ever forget the sight
Of my son walking down the hall that night,
Captured forever within a mental time frame
As he pushed open the door and said, "Patrick James."


Although he was tired, his steps had been spry
And it could not be doubted that he was emotionally high,
The huge grin on his face spread from one ear to the other
Because he and his wife were now a father and mother!


His own mother had passed just four years before
But I could sense she was with him as he pushed open the door,
She'd always loved children and had oft dreamt of this day
Now, a guiding light she'd be able to help show them the way.


His mother-in-law was there and he gave her a hug,
Her anxiety now thrown from her shoulders with a shrug.
Her relief and her joy were plain for all to see
As she envisioned her daughter holding a newborn baby.


When finally we were allowed into their birthing suite
We were witness to a sight with which no other would compete:
The baby in the arms of his mother was content,
My son gazing down at them as over their shoulders he bent.


Yes, it was a night that will always be special to me:
The birth of the first grandchild of our family.
The sight of the new parents gleaming with love and joy
As they held and cared for their little baby boy!


Thanks Dad, and Grandpa.

TABLE FLIRT

The Little Flirt.

My 5-month-old son is smoother with the ladies than I ever was.

The kid is a restaurant flirt, as we found out last night. We went to dinner with Grandpa and Auntie Megan at a local eatery, and the Little One was working the room as we all ate.

Thing is, we didn't notice it at first. While we were chatting and chowing, he was looking over the Wife's shoulder at the two women in the booth across from us. He established eye contact with them, and then flashed his big, open-mouth, gummy smile at them.

That's all it took.

They were cooing and fussing over him the rest of the way. Waving, smiling and talking to him as their own meals got colder. The Little One ate it up.

When we got up to leave a little while later, the women went on and on about how well behaved he was. What they didn't know is that the last time the Wife and I tried to go out for a meal, he cried so hard and loud the whole time that we had to take turns walking him outside while the other person ate their food alone.

"Well, he was perfect tonight, wasn't he?" they said. 

Yes, I guess he was.

KIDS AND CAMERAS

I was five years old when I took my first photograph. We were at Disney World and about to board the Jungle Cruise when my mom gave in to my pleading and handed me her camera. 


The image I captured that day was nothing remarkable - only some shrubs and trees in the distance. I was so excited that I hit the shutter the second I looked through the viewfinder. I begged my mom for another shot but was denied. This was back in the days of film photography, so every exposure cost money. I sulked through the whole ride thinking about the lousy photo I knew I'd just taken. 


I promised myself that someday I'd have my own camera and take as many photographs as I wanted.

As the years went by I managed to earn more chances to use our family camera. A few years after our Disney trip my mom let me keep a very old box camera that I found in a storage cabinet. She even bought me a film cartridge to experiment with. Those first photos were all landscapes as well, but I took my sweet time composing the images and the results were much better (not that it is hard to top an nondescript mash of green leaves and branches).

My skills improved little by little and today I consider myself a successful point-and-shoot photographer. I still shoot landscapes often, but my favorite subject is people - the younger the better. 

Anyone who has tried to photograph children knows that it takes two servings of patience and a bag of tricks to get a good image though. These days with digital cameras we don't have to worry about wasting film. Still, there are times when I have to remind myself that the perfect shot captures the energy of a moment and not just the beauty or composition of the subject.

I had to remind myself of that over the weekend during a photo shoot with the Little One and three of his cousins. Each of the kids brought their own age-related elements to the shoot. The two older boys showed the fleeting attention span you'd expect from any 4- or 2-year-old. The Little One's biggest challenge was staying steady as he sat upright on the couch. He toppled a couple of times but popped right back up with help. In the end the newborn was the most cooperative with the pictures. Not that he had a choice though. He just discovered that he has arms but hasn't figured out how to control them.

The resulting pictures tell the story about that crazy afternoon. No one is looking at the camera at the same time, but as you see below, these pictures are worth a thousand words.

BANANAS (a digital short)

So, does the Little One like bananas? Based on his first time eating a mashed up banana, we'd say yes.

DOING NOTHING AND LOVING IT

"Wow. We're one of those families now?"

That was the Wife's reaction when I showed her the tax return we'll be getting this year. Suffice to say, it's easily the largest we have ever received.

We had heard about the tax break that children provide, and it was eye opening to see how much of an impact it had. That combined with a full year of mortgage payments went a long way to making us smile.

The first full year we were in our previous home, we were waylaid when we had to pay a couple grand back to Uncle Sam. That experience had us wary this time around.

Not that we are going to do anything crazy with it. In fact, it's all going into the safety net we've been building. When we bought our home, we had set a figure as a goal, hoping to get there within two years. By the end of the month, we'll hit that goal, with three months to spare.

It's definitely more exciting to spend money than it is to save it. At the same time, we feel a sense of comfort knowing that if something bad should happen, we'll have a grace period to work with. Not a big one, mind you, but it's something.

Not that I understood this several years ago. When I left my first full-time job, I actually cashed my 401k. That was nine years ago. Looking back, it makes me simultaneously laugh and cringe at my total lack of awareness of finances.

Not too long ago getting a healthy return would have meant some type of short-term gratification. This year, however, we won't even really be doing anything with it, and that has me oddly excited.  

A MIXED MARRIAGE

Years ago, when the Husband and I first talked about getting married, we hashed out the topic of children right away. We both wanted kids, so the conversation was more about when, where and how that would happen.

More importantly, on that summer evening in July 1999, we danced around the topic of "what?" No, we didn't debate names, numbers or whether we preferred a boy or girl first. The big question, the elephant in the room so to speak, was more serious and heartfelt.

Pittsburgh Steelers or New England Patriots?

You see, genetically, the Husband and I have a mixed marriage. He was raised a Pats fan and loved sports so much that he'd made it his career.

I, on the other hand, was born and raised in Steeler Country. We are a special breed. Proud, loud and loyal. The fact that I moved away from Pittsburgh was shocking enough to my extended family and friends. The possibility that any child of mine would be anything BUT a Steeler's fan was unthinkable. That just doesn't happen.

Fast forward 11 1/2 years later to the Little One's first Christmas. At the top of our to-do list was getting him to Pittsburgh for the first time to meet as many of those die-hard, black-and gold-loving fans that raised me as possible.

A highlight of that trip was introducing him to the three biggest Steeler fans I know, our former neighbors Cindy and Debbie and Cindy's mother, Agnes. A visit with them isn't complete without a conversation or two about the team. To say that they love the Steelers is an understatement.

In 2008, at the age of 90, Agnes, who we call GiGi, got a tattoo of the Steeler's logo. Not surprising for a fan who just two years earlier traveled to Detroit to watch her team win Super Bowl XL. Not surprising for a family, who, like most Pittsburgh fans, wears their team colors all year long.

Even here in New England, 500+ miles from Pittsburgh and in the heart of Patriot Nation, I see fans sporting their Steelers flair several times a week. Every day on the way to the Little One's daycare, we pass through a quiet, suburban neighborhood and drive by a well-cared-for raised ranch sporting a large (I'm talking eight feet) banner that says, "You're in Steelers Country." The banner was hanging when he started daycare in November, long before it was clear that the Steelers would make it to the Super Bowl this Sunday. In fact, that banner was hanging last summer before football season even started. I won't be surprised if it is hanging there long after the big game, maybe even all year.

As for the Little One, well, we are taking the high road of parenting and letting him decide for himself. On Sundays in the fall we root for the Patriots and the Steelers. He often sports two team bibs and does his best to keep them spit-up free as long as he can.

We realized that no matter how loyal we are to any team, the best thing he can learn about sports from us is to be fair and respectful. This Sunday though, it's all about the black and gold.

"Here we go Steelers. Here we go! Pittsburgh's going to the Super Bowl!"

ON A ROLL

Discovery is an incredible thing.

Yesterday morning the Wife and I discovered the Little One awake in his crib, resting on his stomach. We knew it would happen eventually, but this was the first time he had rolled from his back to his stomach on his own.

The kid was proud as a peacock as he pushed up with his arms and puffed his chest out. It was a bigger smile than normal, and he seemed to know he had done something a little bit special. Just to add to the moment, he started rolling from side to side, showing just how good he is getting at this trick.

It's a weird combination of feelings, being so excited to see your child develop and become more confident in himself. At the same time, it seems like they grow too fast. Try as you might, it's impossible to slow time down and keep them a baby forever.

The Little One is growing in many ways every day. He excites himself with each new discovery he makes.

We can't wait to see what he's going to discover tomorrow.

SWEET POTATOES ON THE ROCKS

There is a major dilemma stirring in our household and it's got the LIttle One excited.

The Little One is getting big and busy. His new-found hobbies of waving, grabbing his feet and attempting to roll from his back to his belly have left him famished. Starting solid foods a couple of weeks ago has helped calm that roar and also opened his eyes to a new world of smells, textures and yummy tastes.

In an ideal world, I'd make all of his food from scratch. In the real world, the Husband and I work full-time jobs, write this daily blog and want to spend as much of our down-time as possible playing with the Little One. There is no way I want to sacrifice listening to his new belly laugh for being stuck in the kitchen stock-piling pureed fruits and vegetables. We opted to serve him jarred food instead and happily settled on the Earth's Best organic brand. My plan was to eventually sneak in servings of mashed food from my plate. Forks were made for that kind of thing, right?

Everything changed over the weekend though. While at a mommy and baby play date (which, for five-month-olds amounts to a lot of staring at the other babies and occasionally sucking on someone else's hand or foot,) the conversation turned to solid foods. Some of the moms are making their own and raved about how easy it is.

A couple of them said that they are using food processors, but one professed to using only a potato masher to smash steamed or baked fruits and veggies. The conversation continued on Facebook and eventually I caved to their sales pitch.

On Sunday evening I walked into the kitchen and popped a sweet potato into the microwave. While it cooked the Little One and I read a book, sang a couple of songs and talked about his day. Then I strapped him into his highchair, wheeled it into the kitchen and squeezed the potato guts into our blender.

Twenty seconds and a crazy mommy blender dance later, he was eating fresh, pureed sweet potato. It was as easy as they said and his face was brighter then I expected with the results. I think "Yum!" might be his first word now. While I can't say that I'll be blending up a gourmet meal for him every day, Chef Mommy has a new tool in her belt and she knows how to use it!