Toddler Time

So Camden's a toddler.
Technically.  I mean, he does toddle, after all.


But somehow I missed the part where he crossed over from babyhood.  Where did the wrist rolls and the cooing and the flailing arms go?  Since when is he grown out of the baby clothes section at Target?  When did we get from this:


To this?


Right now it doesn't necessarily feel that time has flown, but instead that it has crept so slowly and stealthily as to escape my notice, while still accomplishing its dirty work.  Camden isn't a baby any longer.

Now he does big boy things, like follow simple instructions...  {"Go put your blankie in your crib, please.}



Shoots hoops...


Draws on his own… {yes, he has already tagged a piece of furniture with a pen}



Asks me to read him his favorite books {over and over} by handing them to me with an, "Aeth?" and then promptly backing up into me until I let him plop into my lap...


Thinks he can climb anything...


And watches Baby Einstein/Cat in the Hat in his own chair, usually with remote in hand.  Where did he learn this stuff, I wonder?  {<-Note sarcasm}



We are seeing a lot more bumps and bruises from tumbles and falls, but I figure that's good for him to an extent.  I try to let him make messes.  Be silly.  Make mistakes, and try again.


It's good medicine for myself as well, and the repetition has been working into my soul lately.  Make messes.  Be silly.  Take chances.  Make mistakes, and try again.  So I'm recommitting to my writing projects, am training for another relay race this summer, and I'm playing soccer again.  All things that intimidate me to a degree {fear of failure, uncertainty of future, dread of looking stupid, etc.} but anything that makes you truly happy is like that, isn't it?

Eleanor Roosevelt said, "Do one thing every day that scares you."
And I think that's how you grow, by putting yourself out there.  I'd say I already follow this advice pretty well.  Nothing is scarier than parenthood!

But nothing makes me than these handsome guys:


Here are some iPhone pics of what we've been doing together lately.

Enjoying a full-fledged spring in our backyard and getting ready to replant our tiny garden.





Spending lots of time being silly at Grammy and Gramp's house.  They've been out of town and we've been hanging out at their home with Uncle Zac, who Camden adores.



 Just barely getting old enough to enjoy the zoo.  






 St. Patrick's day


Several times a day Cam begs to go outside to walk down the sidewalk.  Sometimes I push him in his stroller, but sometimes he just wants to walk.  Maybe you've seen us going up and down, up and down, stopping to wave at every passing car, to pet every dog, and to point upward at the sound of every plane.  It's a lot of walking.


Sometimes I wish he would push me in the stroller.


During a visit to H&M Camden stood up in the window with the mannequins and was all like, "What the heck is going on with these people?"
He was so interested, I suggested that he "hold his hand."  Cam smiled like that was such a silly thing to do.  But then, tentatively, he reached out and held that mannequin's cold, plastic hand.  Maybe you had to be there, but I just about died.




Gramp's birthday at Cheesecake Factory.  Camden double fisting it with the grilled cheese.


A whole day to ourselves in Gilbert, where we had one of my favorite trips to the temple ever!


 Hanging out with friends, both virtually and in person.  Oh, and Camden had to borrow a shirt from his sweet friend Elle.  So he had his first cross dressing experience.



Being an adorable toddler


Arizona Bar to Pool Bar

We.  Are.  DONE!  The Arizona State Bar is behind us!

Feel free to shout "hallelujah", and maybe even do a little victory dance in Roy's honor.  But maybe hold off on the full-on celebratory Gangnam Style routine until we get the test results back.  {Although I have complete faith in you, babe!}

Roy isn't done with school until May, but we are so done stressing over that dreaded exam-that-determines-your-future.  All three of us needed a break; a time to unwind, unplug, and just be together.  Preferably somewhere with sandy beaches, and a pool bar with virgin piƱa coladas.

Our friends, the Bowens, had just endured the same hair-tearing experience we had.  Another couple, the Smiths, were just gearing up for the bar themselves.  In the spirit of relaxation and forgetting the Arizona bar altogether, we all headed down to Rocky Point.


Though the weather was crazier than I've ever seen it there {winds threatening to chuck the porch furniture off the balcony} we still got to spend some time enjoying the beach.  And the rolling, brisk water.



Of course it wouldn't be Rocky Point without the occasional piece of trash or giant dead pelican.  But really, there's no better place to be than the beach.


Unfortunately, not everyone is a fan.


Oh Camden, my sweet, timid child.  For him, I could see how the roaring waves would be unnerving.  They were larger and louder than usual, thanks to the weather.  Okay, understandable.  He was only happy at about this distance:


But sand?  He's afraid of sand?!
I mean, he walked fine on the firm, still-wet sand pictured above.  But as soon as it started getting shifty underfoot, he panicked like he was going to sink into it.  Watching the other babies happily dig holes and splash in the water made me a little jealous, stuck up at the top of the beach, safely atop scratchy towels.


In an effort to help my boy make peace with sand, I grabbed a pail and sat down with him in my lap.  I dropped seashells into the pail and sifted fine sand through my fingers.  "See?  Nice sand."  Camden tentatively began picking out shells and dropping them into the pail.  Once he seemed comfortable touching the sand with his fingertips, I patted his bare feet on the sand.  Good response.  I thought I'd even get a smile out of him, so in one scoop I buried his feet beneath the sand and said, "Where are your toes?  Where'd your toes go?"

It took a moment.  He stared at his ankles, back and forth.  Then sheer panic; "I don't know!  I DON'T KNOW WHERE MY TOES ARE!!!!  AAAAAHHHH!!!!!" washed over him.  I'm talking complete meltdown, "I've lost my feet and I'll never walk again" end-of-the-world hysteria.

So if anything I've scarred him for life.  Son, if you ever wonder where your irrational fear of sand came from, I'll point you to this post.  My bad.

At least you liked the pool!


The guys got to go boogie boarding, and had a trip into town, but the fishing trip we planned for them didn't work out due to the high probability that the wind would take down any vessel on the water.



We girls darted into the water too.  Even Darcee!  That woman is brave - Jenn thought she was going to have to rescue that pregnant lady from some monster waves.  I tried to dip my head in the water to say I went in all the way, but really I just smacked my face into a wave and ran out squealing.

Relaxing while babies are running around isn't easy, even on vacation.  But the guys gave us girls some major beach time to ourselves, which was seriously great.

The kids are all very close in age, and none are really interested in each other yet.  But I think it's safe to say that all are interested in melons.


And that little, pint-sized broom.

We spent a little bit of time at the malecon, letting the Bowens and Smiths check out the shops and souvenirs.  Camden thought he was in heaven when he found the stairs there.  He may not be brave with sand, but he has no problem running around at full speed through a strange new place with crowds of people, teenagers skateboarding, and loud music bands playing all around him.



At the end of every day we had chlorine on our skin, salt in our hair, and babies who slept hard, exhausted from all the fun.  Once they were asleep we adults either played games, talked, or split up to watch TV.  Basketball in the living room for the boys.  Downton Abbey, huddled together on a bed, for the girls.  When my head finally hit the pillow sometime past midnight every night, I fell asleep to the sound of crashing waves and wind beating on the sliding glass door to the balcony.  Perfect white noise.


Oh, maybe I should mention that my little brother was there with us.  Zac and a few of his friends were staying in my parent's condo down the hall while we were staying in my grandparent's.  We only really saw the teens when they came over for meals, and occasionally down at the beach playing spike ball.  I think they spent most of the time planted on couches, enjoying a Lord of the Rings marathon.

On the way home Zac's friend almost didn't make it across the border.  The border patrolman gave him a really hard time about having only a birth certificate and driver's license to show.  No passport.  Oops.

But hey, if they'd sent us back I don't think I would have been too sad about it.


So long!