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My baby boy is TWO! We did it big with a mailman-themed Happy Birthday extravaganza. (AKA we invited three people over for cake.) Will's parents sent this HILARIOUS mailman get-up for his birthday, just in time for the little party. That mail carrier bag has seen all manner of vehicles . . . planes, trains, automobiles, you name it. It's not quite as beloved as his cowboy boots, but it has a special place in his heart, for sure.

He was pretty pumped for his b-day this year. He practiced blowing out candles leading up to the big day thanks to Advent. And we taught him the Happy Birthday Song through the whole month of January. He still bolts out a "Happy Bahhday, YAH YAHHH!" x 4 … blows air, "YAYYY" + claps every so often. 

All of his hard work definitely paid off. 

Those candles didn't stand a chance.

Hashtag fun fam!

Indulge me for a sec, because I really can't believe how old and big and smart he's getting. Every few days he'll really surprise me with something new he says or does. For example, he just started shouting "PANCAKES!!!!" every time we pass The Egg & I on 64. We love brunch. It's just odd because you really can't even see the building from the highway. In the same vein, he shouts "JESUS!!!!" every time he passes our church. (We have a Ordinary Time routine, okay?) 

He just started recognizing where we are when we drive around. He cries tears of agony every time we turn in the direction opposite of the base. Because he knows when we go on base we get to see airplanes, the occasional freight train, and, of course his favorite, his daddy. 

He's getting more serious with his toys and it kills me. 

When he wants to do something specific with his toys, he'll usually whine "HELP PEEEZ!!" and then just do it himself because he can. I really think he underestimates his own abilities sometimes and defaults to asking for help.

Toddlers, man. Keep you on your toes.

Hi Z.

Zelie's all, I'm bald!

Zelie turned two months old today. I'll have a full post that includes all your intricate poop deets, but I want to wait until after her checkup on Friday so I have her stats. She is still tall. (Pic above was from a couple weeks ago. And how cute is the bandit bib from Whole Parenting Goods? Obsessed.) 

You may have noticed I chopped all my hair off. I just finally had to take the plunge and get the mom lob. It was time. 

I had no idea that my cut and style would be free as a perk for donating. I was super pumped! And of course I haven't been able to get my hair to look as good as it does in the pic above, but c'est la vie, no? I could straighten my hair ALL DAY and nope.

Postpartum running is going well! I have been taking it slow. My longest run so far has been 3.66 miles on the treadmill. The weather is supposed to get really nice over the next few days, so hopefully I can hit the pavement with the duallie. I've managed to lose a couple more pounds, but I still have about 11 pounds to go to hit my pre-pregnancy weight. But I finally bought a pair of jeans that actually sort of fit, so I am in less of a hurry. 

Can't hang.

Lent is here! You may or may not have noticed I haven't been on social media much. Here's what I've been up to: 

• Deleted social media apps from my phone (Bloglovin', Facebook, Instagram, and Snapchat). I can fire up the old MacBook to check Facebook or read blogs, but I generally don't because it. is. so. slow. I've been trying to especially limit time spent on my phone during the day when I am supposed to be parenting. So far, so good. So, so good. 
• I am working on the Blessed is She Lenten Workbook. I've been loving the journaling. (Big surprise right? I mean I do have this crazy blog.)
• I've been limiting processed sugar. I say limiting because I am breastfeeding and stopping my nightly chocolate milkshake is a big freaking deal for me. 
• Less screen time for Little Will. It got out of hand there for a while. I'm feeling like I have much more energy lately to get out of the house and/or figure out things to do with Will at home, so it's been a lot easier to implement this. 
• We are donating a portion of our tax refund.

I did a bad thing and tried to bring both children to Ash Wednesday mass by myself on base. It made this bad morning look like child's play. My first mistake was going to a different parish than our usual so that we could attend a full mass that didn't interfere with meal times or naps. We arrived early because it was snowing and I wanted to make sure I got a parking spot close to the building. Little Will was unusually hyper waiving and yelling "HIII" to everyone who walked in as the unofficial greeter. Once mass started, he didn't want to stay in the pew, which is normal, but when I took him out to the vestibule, he screamed his head off. Nothing would console him. I had Zelie in the Moby wrap because I knew I'd be in and out of the pew with Little Will. ANYWAY, once the meltdown of all meltdowns occurred a whopping five minutes into mass, I decided that we just needed to leave. WELL, I had to go back into the church get my bag. We slowly and quietly creep back in as not to be any more of a disturbance. At which point Little Will ran up the center aisle and bum rushed the priest as he gave the homily, yelling "HIIIII!" and waiving. I grabbed my bag and power walked toward the front. A parishioner grabbed Little Will and pointed him back toward me. At which point I made awkward eye contact with a gentleman who I'm sure was at least an O-6, probably a four-star general because that's what happens. Zelie's head was bouncing around in the Moby, pretty unsecured, while I make the looooong walk of shame down the aisle out of the church. More melting down while I buckle poor little sis into her car seat and we slowly make our way outside into the snowy white abyss.

So I guess what I'm saying is Lent started off with a bang. Just trying to make things extra penitential around here.

I promise the transition from 1 to 2 has still been pretty smooth! We've just had a few … moments.

Last, but not least, you may remember back in October when I blogged about how we would soon be getting our next base assignment. Well, that notification got pushed back to February. We waited and waited and waited as Will's colleagues got the news. And finally, today, we got the "unofficial" news of where we'll be living come July. Hint: it's NOT in the direction we were trying to go (East).  I won't jinx it by disclosing it here, but as soon as we get official orders (in a couple more months), you'll be the first to know. ;) 

We Can Make It

Two more weeks! Two more weeks! TWO-POINT-FIVE-MORE-WEEKS! 

. . . until Lent is over and I can have my husband back. I wanted to do some other things during Lent, like make it to daily mass and exercise more, you know, things of my choosing, but really I think God sees my sacrifice of sleep and spousal companionship and sees that it is very good. Not quite Genesis status good, but good nonetheless. 

Two more weeks. (In times like these, we round down, amirite?) I'm choosing to see this as a glass-half-full thing today because I got a couple good nights of sleep. In. A. Row. Woot! Don't get me wrong. This past week saw some moments where I told Will, "you are getting out of the military! I can't do this ever again! HALP." But then I got four hours of sleep or something and all is well. I think I said last night something along the lines of, "when you become TJAG . . . ." So yeah. Tiger Wife is back. (However, note that tigers need sleep, too.)

Reflection Time: In general I don't feel like a "military spouse." I mean, I've seen a couple episodes of Army Wives. And their struggles - they aren't mine. I guess it's easy to feel that way when you're husband is a JAG. He doesn't carry a gun or get shot at. (Though he does get tazed, apparently.) If he ever were to deploy somewhere, he would probably never have to leave air conditioning. Those airmen and their climate control. And he's NOT deployed. There's that. That's a big one. But, hey. My husband has been away at training for seven straight weeks and I'm up in here with a newborn and two psycho poop-eating dogs, so I reserve the right to give myself a pat on the back. Or, like, an excuse to not have the most zealous Lent ever.

This experience has made me feel like more a part of the AF community, though. These are good people. And I'm not just saying that because the cashiers at the Commissary know way too much about my life. (I get a little chatty in the checkout line, what can I say?) Will's boss calls to check up on how things are going while he's away. His coworkers stop by to drop off food. There was the great cupcake mystery. And then, there was this . . . 

An old high school friend who is in the Air Force sent us this crocheted Air Force bomber jacket for the bambino, and dare I say, it's the cutest thing we've ever seen. As Will said when I texted him a picture . . . "THIS WINS EVERYTHING!" So thoughtful and so cute. Thank you, thank you, Jen! 

The Takeaway: (1) We can make it two more weeks; (2) the Air Force community is the best out there; and (3) if I have to shoulder all the sleep deprivation of our first baby's first two months of life, then, yeah, it doesn't hurt to watch Will B. get tazed a few (dozen) times just for kicks. (Just go watch it. You will laugh, too.)

"We can dooooo it. Bliggity blerg."

Today, A Very Fat Tuesday

It began well enough. Rise and shine! At midnight . . . and 2:47 AM . . . and 5:27 AM. We had a doctor's appointment scheduled for 7:50 AM to investigate some persistent diaper rash on the baby's behind, so we got dressed up in our finest.

And thennnnn getting out the door went a little something like this: 

I get everything into the car, including the diaper bag, my wallet and phone, and my freshly brewed coffee, and start it up because we're trapped in a polar vortex. (I know, I should be e-slapped for complaining about Florida weather for months!) I grab the baby and take him into the laundry room off the garage. I coax the dogs into said laundry room with precious milk bones. I hoist the baby in the infant carrier (yes, hoist! those things are too heavy!) into the garage only to realize 

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the car door is locked 

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all the doors are locked.

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Did I mention the car was running? And more importantly, that my precious liquid energy was inside?

Today I am thankful for Google's free phone service, for Locksmiths, that the baby was not in the car, and for insulated travel mugs that keep your coffee hot after sitting for an hour waiting for a Locksmith to get to it because it's the only thing that will get your through the rest of your morning without throwing the most self-indulgent of pity parties and stress eating Breyer's cookies 'n' cream ice cream. What. It's Fat Tuesday.

We finally made it to the doctor in the afternoon where we found out that the baby's constant sharting (oh, yes, that's a link because I've blogged about it before - a whole post about poop - so deal with it) is giving him acid burns to his bottom. Ugh. 

The good news is that this chunker gained almost two pounds in two weeks and is currently 9 lbs., 10 oz. You breast believe it. 

And Lent begins tomorrow! Aside from giving up my husband, I've decided to attend at least one weekday mass with the baby and to get into a spiritually-enhancing fitness routine. Don't worry! You'll hear all about it along the way. ;)

Until then, you'll know where to find me. 

Happy Mardi Gras!