Santa Claus 2009

Well, Santa got a little too ambitious at the Babb house this year. The plan originally started as a way to save money- I would make the girls' big present. In the end, I'm not sure if I saved very much and I lost some of my sanity and a lot of sleep in the process.
It definitely does take a village to raise a child and this year it took one to have Santa Clause. When we were little, my sister Catherine and I "tended like" (pretended) for hours on end. We had great fun dreaming up this room for Cate and Ava. Catherine spent hours plotting, designing, and planning the mural, the chalkboard, stripes, and a few other things. My Granny sewed the panels, roof, and ties. Grandpa (Lynn) painted the room blue, worked on the trim, and helped with the stripes. Nana (Nancy) kept the girls and stayed up with us Christmas Eve organizing and putting the finishing touch on things. Tracie came by and painted the apple. Even though I think he thought it would never happen, Joe put up with the whole idea and and helped with the entire process from the end of October until 3 am this morning. And I put every last tiny stitch in the rest of the house (with the exception of the flowers- I ordered those from Etsy). I'm still not sure if I'm going to let them touch any of it.

BEFORE



Catherine hard at work. She swears she will never paint another rainbow again. For some reason, it was the most tedious and several times she threatened just to paint completely over it.
The reading corner and our striped "accent" wall. The word "PLAY" hangs from the ceiling.

Catherine painted the murals. I took pictures of their favorite babies and stuffed animals and framed them on the walls.


Their Christmas stuff won't usually be in the middle of the floor (though I'm sure a pile of toys will). They can go in and out through the tunnel.
The front of the playhouse. I wish I could have figured out a way for the door to open, but it doesn't. The mailbox pocket does open and they even have mail made of felt.
Ava and Cate bunnies. Cat drew these off for me. There's even a carrot in Cate's bunny purse as a secret surprise.
I'd never seen chalkboard paint before, but it's great. It really is just like a chalkboard. Cate loves to play school (I don't know where she gets her bossiness).
"Dear Cate and Ava, I left your presents in the playroom. Here's the key. Merry Christmas! Love, Santa"

Their stools. The next ones I do will NOT have stiped legs. They will be solid.


Totally worth it.

Cate loved all of her dress- up clothes and her new mirror.
Merry Christmas my Sweet Girls!

P.S. Joe feels I should disclose that this should not be mentioned to Cate or Ava. He is scared to death they'll find out that we did it, not Santa, and they won't believe in Santa, so, SHHH!

Worn Out

Ava was exhausted after her school Christmas party and coming home to play with Mama Sue and Grandmama until I made it home from work. Before you feel too bad for her, she rallied and caught her second wind shortly after this footage and stayed up playing for another two hours.

An Unusual Saturday

I spent quite an unusual day for me a couple of Saturdays ago. Anna and I drove to Jackson to meet Kathryn, Emily, and Katy. We ate lunch at one of our favorite places and I can't describe how odd it felt to have a leisurely meal with real conversations. It had been a long time since I got to spend a day with the girls and now that Emily's back in the country and my babies are a little older, I hope we do this more often. Not quite so unusual, at the end of the day, we all ended up piled on a bed talking and laughing hysterically.

Christmas Ornaments and Chaos

Every year since Cate has been born, my friend Kathryn sends a huge box of Christmas ornaments for her and now Ava. She loves them and has a ball opening them each year. A couple of weeks ago she asked when we could get her "Christmas jewels" out. Ava, Tucker, and Molly joined in the fun and I was just thankful Kathryn did not send any glass ones this year due to the chaos.

Thanks Kathryn, Steve, and sweet Drew!

Avaspeak 1.0

Yes, there is an Avaspeak. She speaks, a lot. She speaks and is funny, and she speaks well. She has moved on from "Yes" to "Yeayah." Her vocabulary is rapidly expanding, and we are loving it.

The other night she and Cate got out of the bath tub at roughly the same time. The routine is to put lotion on both kids, and then pajamas. Since Ava wears a diaper and can be a loaded cannon, she generally goes first. Cate was cold (as usual), so I got Ava lotioned, diapered, and put pants on her. I put her shirt on, but since it was a button down, I elected to leave that for later so I could get Cate dressed. Trying to button the shirt of a toddler can be a ten minute process. I began to work on Cate, but Ava was very dissatisfied. She came up to me in a whiny voice, shirt tails in hand, "Daaaadddyyyy, CLOSE MY GATE."

I buttoned her shirt. Cate had to wait.

Bathtime Fathering Fail - Dedicated to Jody Steverson

There are many utterances from the mouth of my beloved that fill me with dread. Although, I could quickly come up with a top five list without much reflection, the phrase at the top of the list is as follows: "Go put the kids in the tub and just watch them. I need to do (fill in the blank) and I will be right there."

For some reason, I continue to fall for this. Even though I know that intellectually, right there never means what you would think it should mean. Most of the time, I could have them both bathed and dressed by the time right there happens. But as a Dad, bath time is my most dreaded chore. After a busy day at work, I come home seeking quiet, order and rest. Bath time is the most chaotic time of night. The girls seem to get their second wind and there is usually loud screaming and splashing, water going everywhere, shampoo in eyes, kids standing up and sometimes slipping, wet feet running on hard tile. It's a nerve rattling experience for a tired Dad. My mother-in-law, in her infinite love and giving, always gives them a bath when she's here, which is very much appreciated by me.

Of course, there is the other scenario that occasionally happens at bath time. It's worse than any of the above. It epitomizes chaos and disorder, and it happened the other night.

It is necessary for me to point out, at this point, that I have a come a long way in my relationship with poop. Lauren is not bothered at all by it, but she will tell you that the first time I cleaned up poop from our new puppy 5 years ago, I struggled to make it to wherever I was going with it. There was incessant gagging and face redness. Now, I am not at all bothered by dog dropping. The first diaper I changed nearly killed me, and now, it's nothing. Likewise, the first time I cleaned Cate up after she became potty trained, I was traumatized. For whatever reason, whenever I am introduced to a new form of waste, I am a basketcase. Yet, even though this is not new at our house, I will never get over a code brown.

Code brown is our word for when a kid goes in the bathtub. Cate did it a few times a couple of years ago. What I remember about that is that she was so horrified by it that it was pretty short lived. Ava is now on a bit of a streak, and she doesn't seem to care. I'd say that it happens once a month. When one of us yells "Code Brown," the other one comes running. It's a two person clean up job.

Since Ava has gotten so prone to doing this, Cate is learning to recognize the signs. Last night, as we were waiting on Lauren, at the first sign of any squat, Cate would frantically yell "Ava's gonna poop! Ava's gonna poop!" I would look at Ava, and I couldn't detect anything. After the second time this happened, I got Ava out of the tub and put her on the potty and encouraged her. This actually worked for Lauren last week. No such luck for me, and she wanted back in the tub. Satisfied that we were ok, I went to hang up some clothes in the adjacent closet. Cate's scream sent chills through my veins. I walked into a scene that no parent wants to see. Sparing the detail, Ava was looking relieved and satisfied and Cate had scurried up on the side of the tub and was huddled in the fetal position.

I called "Code Brown," and my wife came in calmly. I corralled Ava and took orders, as Lauren faced the strange visitor. Cate shivered and commented how gross the situation was. She would occasionally look down into the tub and gag. "Don't look down," I'd say. She was worried that her bathtub toys would be covered in fecal matter, especially her water gun. As I went to get some type of cleaner, Ava wandered into the bedroom. I came into the room to see her standing in a puddle of baby pee on our new hardwood floor. Lauren came and cleaned this up as well. I was kindly admonished for my role in the matter.

Soon, the bathtub was clean and both girls were back in. Ava was relieved, Cate was calm. I quickly bathed them both and got them off to bed.

Dads aren't made for such.

-Joe