Preston's third birthday par-tee

This little stinker turned three on Saturday. Three! My chubby little baby is now a curious, goofy, smart, cuddly boy who is obsessed with golf. So it's only fitting that we celebrated his birth with a golf "par-tee." While it seemed crazy in the midst of its planning, execution and clean up, the party itself was lots of fun. The weather was perfect, Preston wasn't sick (after battling ear infections for the past six months), and no one was hit in the head with a golf club, which was a big concern of mine when you mix three year olds and golf clubs.

For months, Scott had been planning, plotting and stressing about how he would make a golf course in our backyard. All of his research (he actually watched YouTube tutorials) and Lowe's visits paid off, I think, because the one-hold golf course he created in our backyard was perfect. And it wasn't just for the kids because Scott and my dad had a great time playing on it after the party. I have a feeling the hole will be there for the rest of the season because Scott and Preston both enjoy having it around.

Meanwhile, I got a Chandler Mrs. Pacman claw hand from cutting out the banner, flag, cupcake toppers and the rest of the decor from an Etsy printable I bought.

The party was more like an Oprah's Favorite Things but for Preston. We had golf, his favorite people, his favorite foods, and his favorite music. This was Preston's first birthday party with friends his age in addition to the adults who play such a huge part in helping us raise our precious boy. We integrated lots of Preston's favorite foods into the party. While we had chicken salad and pimento cheese sandwiches, we also had chips and crackers of all kinds, guacamole, veggie straws, pickles and fruit salad in the style of Chick-fil-A.

As party favors, all of the little golfers got their own plastic set of clubs to play the course with and a foam visor to decorate with stickers. At our craziest, Scott and I had pitched the idea of getting caddy bibs for each kid's parent with the child's name on it or finding a tiny green Master's blazer to put on Preston at the end. But we had to winnow down or else risk being those parents.

We had a great weekend celebrating our boy. I love him to pieces!

As a bonus, Preston's party mix, in case you ever want to throw a party for a boy who loves golf, funk, Disney and Jack White.

Conversations with Preston

While folding laundry
Preston: Mommy, Preston question?
Me: OK, what's your favorite movie?
Preston: Monsters and Baby. ("Monster's Inc.")
Me: What's your favorite thing to eat?
Preston: Mommy's cereal. (Cinnamon Toast Crunch)
Me: What do you like to do with Daddy?
Preston: Play Legos.
Me: What's your favorite thing to watch on TV?
Preston: Golf.
Me: What's your favorite song?
Preston: Happy!
Me: What's your favorite thing to do with Mrs. Jan?
Preston: Play.
(Between each question and answer, he would scrunch his face up and say, "Hmmm..." before he'd respond.)

While cleaning out the guest room to be baby girl's room
Me: What does baby sister need in her room?
Preston: A bed.
Me: Does she need clothes?
Preston: No, dresses!

After the satellite cut out one morning
(Into a Lego, like he was on the phone with DirecTV)
Preston: Hello? Yeah, TV not working. Channel 4 not working. Scott Han-gan.

Getting in the car to leave for the day
Scott: Did you poop?
Preston: Not yet. Nan (his sitter, Mrs. Jan) check it.

Looking at a piece of mail
Preston: (Points to Twitter logo) Hashtag!
(Points to Instagram logo) Picture!
(Points to YouTube logo) Snowman! (He watches the "In Summer" song from "Frozen" on YouTube.)

After Scott painted a swatch of the wall in baby's room pink
Scott: (To me) What do you think?
Preston: (Runs in the room, puts hands on his hips) I like it!

While out shopping and ready to leave
Preston: Daddy's car? Daddy's car nice! Go get in Daddy's nice car?

While playing outside
Me: (Grunts when sitting down.)
Preston: (Also grunts.) Oh man. Tired.

When I needed to give him a bath before we went to an office dinner
Me: Come on, buddy. You need to get a bath.
Preston: No, mommy. Too early.
(And he was right. It was much earlier than he typically gets a bath.)

While pushing a laundry basket
Preston: Driving
Me: Where are you going?
Preston: Buy pacis. (Stops.) Parking, be right back! (Leaves the room and comes back with two pacis to put in the basket.) Pay for it. (Starts pushing basket again.) Oh, red light.

Every morning at breakfast
Preston: Hug, mommy! Hug! (This happens about three or four times, and I never get tired of it — soggy cereal and all.)

P.S. In case you missed the first one.

Preston's two year old photos

Preston likes a lot of things: The Today Show, a pink stuffed giraffe originally intended for baby sister, Cheetos, bubbles, being splashed with cold water, scaring people, Jimmy Fallon, ice cream, making funny faces, Monster's University and Monster's Inc., going outside, playing drums, and his paci.

But there is one thing Preston loves. In fact, you might say he's obsessed. This boy cannot get enough golf. He loves to play with his little plastic set of clubs, whacking white, plastic golf balls all over the yard calling, "Nice shot!" He wakes up from his Sunday afternoon naps asking to watch golf because he knows it's on. He calls the reflexes hammer from his doctor kit his club and hits his pacis across the living room floor. The other day while I was brushing my teeth, he started jumping up and down with his hands over his head chanting, "Play golf! Play golf!" for no real reason at all.

It's obvious why it seemed so fitting that his two year photos incorporate his deep love for golf. After rescheduling with Cassie numerous times (If you're ever in need of rain, let me know and I'll schedule a shoot with Cassie. It works like a charm), we finally were able to meet up at the local country club and get Preston's pictures on their practice putting green. The boy was in heaven. I had to hide the clubs for the first half just so he would sit and get some non-golf pictures first.

I absolutely love the finished result and how they really freeze Preston just as he is now, which is something I cherish even more as he seems to be growing so quickly now. I couldn't ask for a boy much better than this one. And all the sudden, that's what he is — a boy, a walking, talking, opinion-having, giggling, cheerful, albeit stubborn boy. I find myself searching for traces of the baby we brought home. I see glimpses in his chubby cheeks or the way he sleeps with his lips puckered and apart like a little fish. But there are more signs of the big boy he's becoming. Bruises on his legs, dirt under his nails, and little fists clinched tightly around any ball he can find and throw. And while it's sad to see the baby in him fade away, I sure do love this boy of mine.

Conversations with Preston

Preston has reached a point where he's talking all of the time, and it's so fun to hear what is going on in his little brain. I'm often tempted to post a Facebook status or tweet whenever he says something cute, but I try to keep from being that person on social media (all bets are off on my Instagram, though). So I thought I'd start a little series on conversations with Preston so I can share them and have them stored away to look back on some day.

Playing with his singing steering wheel:
Preston: "Ooh ooh! We here!"
Me: "Where are you going?"
Preston: "Walmart!"
Me: "What are you going to get?"
Preston: "Gross-ies (groceries) … and cookies!"

When we leave the house in Scott's car:
Preston: "Ready! We goin'! Bye, Mommy's car!"

Overheard on the baby monitor one morning, talking about his blanket bear:
"Mommy's bear? Nooo! Daddy's bear? Nooo! Coco's bear? Nooo! Pops' bear? Nooo!" (This went on in loop for a while.)

After splashing water on the floor:
Preston: "Eww! Mess!"
Me: "Who made that mess?"
Preston: "Pops!"

While Scott and I were getting ready:
Preston to Scott, who wasn't wearing a shirt: "Daddy! Shirt!"
Scott: "You want me to wear a shirt?"
Preston: "Uh-huh, myson (bison) shirt!"

After he'd thrown a fit getting out of the bathtub and I told him to use his words when he's upset:
Me: "OK, so why did you get so mad?"
Preston: "(whining) Frustrated!" Then he collapsed onto my shoulder.

When Scott went to get him out of bed:
Scott: "Preston, where's Mommy?"
Preston: "Doing dishes."

Sitting at the table:
Preston: "Hmmmm…"
Me: "What are you doing?"
Preston: "Finking (Thinking)," and taps on his chin with his spoon.

Looking at a J.Crew catalog:
Preston: "Oh, Mommy! (pointing to model on the front) Dress, Mommy! Mommy's cute! Cute Mommy!" (Nothing makes a five-month pregnant lady feel better than being mistaken for a model — and being cute too!)

P.S. I took these pictures the other night while we were all outside. They feature Preston's two favorite things — golf and cold water. He literally requests "Cold water!!" every night in the bathtub and was happy to find it can come from the hose, too.

Preston turns two, part 2

I guess when you turn two, you have to have two parties to make it official. That's at least how Preston celebrated turning the big two with his second party this past weekend. We (obviously) went with a Cookie Monster theme, Preston's favorite among the Sesame Street gang. This made it extremely easy to decorate for. We didn't buy any of the Cookie Monsters for the party. I just grabbed them from the toy bins while Preston was napping before the party. We even had the glass milk jug sitting around, and Scott filled it up with water and a little acrylic white paint to look like milk. I got the rest of the decorations from Oriental Trading, which I had heard of but never ordered from. Afterward, though, I wondered why I hadn't used them sooner. I got plates, napkins, bunting, paper straws and paper snack cups for $17! Super easy and affordable — just like I like it.

Preston's grandma made his Cookie Monster shirt and a local bakery made the cupcakes and cookies. I'm not good under pressure, so I can't bake or even think about baking the birthday cake without feeling incredibly anxious. So I was glad to give that task to someone else. They turned out much cuter that way.

All of that paled in Preston's eyes to the balloons that were floating in the kitchen when he woke up from his nap. I think we could get him a balloon next year and he'd be pleased as punch.

It was a simple party but definitely a good one. There's nothing that warms my heart more than celebrating this sweet, goofy little boy with the people who love him as much as we do. That's reason enough to have two birthday parties!

Lots to celebrate

Birthdays, hoodings, graduations — oh my! We had a very busy couple of days this past weekend as we traveled to Nashville to celebrate my sister's graduation from pharmacy school as well as Preston's second birthday, which means we not only had a lot to celebrate, but also a lot to photograph, so please excuse the overabundance of pictures.

On Friday, after we had gone to Courtney's hooding ceremony and Preston had taken a very lengthy nap, we celebrated our boy turning two (even though it feels like we just brought him home). He woke up to find a giant Elmo balloon waiting for him, and I'm pretty sure he would've been happy with just that. But he also got a couple of things from my parents and sister. He was elated when he opened the little computer my parents got him, but the biggest hit was probably his own little set of golf clubs. When Mom brought them out, he shouted, "Golf!" and the rest of the afternoon was spent hitting and chasing the plastic golfballs all over the house.

After dinner, it was time for cake — a super blue Cookie Monster cake to be exact — and Bubble Guppies masks. The cake left us all extremely blue in the mouth region, so it was best that it was shared among family only. I was very proud of Preston for actually taking a bite of the cake, even though I think the blue icing frightened him a bit. It's a huge step from where he was this time last year.

Saturday was graduation day, and in addition to the ceremony itself, Mom and Dad had planned a party at their house afterward with most of our family and friends coming for both. We had quite the cheering section for Courtney as she crossed the stage. We were just a few rows back from where she crossed to return to her seat. When Preston saw her, he shouted, "Hi, Coco! I watched you on the steps!" Since most of the arena was quiet so that each person's name could be heard when called, he was heard by everyone in our general area and got a laugh out of them.

Let me just take a minute to brag on my sister. While she was in school these past four years working to get to this point, she's really been working much longer than just her time in pharmacy school. She has been determined to do her best for as long as I've known her, and all of that determination paid off. I'm so proud of my sister, Dr. Courtney Harris.

Back at my parents' house, we ate lunch and celebrated the new doctor and new two year old. Courtney's cake congratulated her "Breaking Bad" style. After lunch, Everyone ended up outside while Preston and others tested out his collection of bubbles that my grandmother gave him for his birthday. We were all a little pollen- and bubble solution-covered when we came back inside.

It was wonderful to spend time with family and celebrate these two occasions!

It was even better to take a nap afterward.

The big haircut

Last week, Preston got his first official "big boy" haircut. Even though Scott and I had been pretty resistant to cutting his hair, when we noticed he was rocking the Andy Samberg circa 2006, we decided a haircut might be overdue. 

The main reason I'd been dragging my feet to cut Preston's hair is that I didn't know what to do with it. I think it's easier with a little girl. You can give them a simple little bob and it can be as long or as short as you want it. The most difficult decision there is bangs or no bangs. A little boy actually has to have a style: bowl cut, crew cut, buzz cut, etc. But when I saw this little boy on Mini Boden, I thought his hair cut would fit Preston perfectly.

I'm thankful my friend Amber was able to do it since my usual hair stylist was booked solid. I took Preston over to her house, and she cut his hair in her bathroom. She was so sweet to take time out of her afternoon to clean up this shaggy little dog.

While he loved Amber and an excuse to play with my iPad, he hated the clips she used to section off his hair. Whenever he'd reach up and feel one in his hair, he'd cry. When she got to the top section, he reached up to feel for a clip to find there weren't anymore in his hair. He was so happy that he clapped and shouted "Yay!"

I love this new 'do, and he looks so cute it makes us wonder why we didn't cut it sooner. As an added bonus, since his haircut, no one at Walmart has called him a girl. So it's a win all around.

I can't get over how big he looks in this photo. I can't believe he'll be two on Friday!

Preston and Build-a-Bear

There are certain things that, once you have a kid, you get super excited to get to relive through them. To see your child's eyes light up at their first Christmas tree, their first trip to the beach, their first time to  go to the zoo — these moments of childhood wonder are one of the magical parts of parenthood. So, when we went to Nashville for spring break, my mom and I were both eager to take Preston to Build-a-Bear Workshop. It would be great! He could pick out his own little buddy and see the process through from start to finish. What's not to love?

Well, apparently a lot. Build-a-Bear has changed a little since my last time in the store. There are a lot more touch screens involved in the bear building process, and those are like catnip to Preston. So, forget picking an animal; Pres much preferred touching and tapping the screens set up to help you select the bear's personality, clean him up, or give him a name. 

I was a little bummed that he didn't love it as much as I wanted him to love it. My mom and I had to prod him along the process. I would try to get him to one side of the store to pick his animal only to have him dash off to one of the other screen. In the above picture, I had to snap it quickly because Preston would throw his newly created dog (which we later named "Bud") in the floor to play with the touch screen tub. 

In the end, I think his favorite part of the whole event was the video screen at the store's front that played music and showed a little Irish-dancing bear. He would run out of the store to dance along with it. I realized I had snapped a cute little flip-book of his dance, complete with finger wag, before we left. 

Preston's feeding story

A little over a year ago, I bought some of those Gerber puffs at the grocery store and scattered them across the tray of Preston's highchair. At this point, he was still nursing, and we had begun introducing cereal and homemade pureed fruits and vegetables into his diet. Now it was time to work on self-feeding, a seemingly easy milestone on the path of growing up. After all, that Cheerios commercial where the mom gives her baby one, saying how it was her first food, too, made it look like something that would happen successfully in less than 30 seconds. (And I base all of my core truths on commercials.)

Well, like most things I think about parenting, I was proven wrong. Preston would pick up and play with the puff but wouldn't put them in his mouth. But this is the kid who never put anything weird in his mouth. Sure, he'd chew on toys and of course his beloved paci, but I never had to watch him to make sure he wasn't eating leaves, coins or other choking hazards. I knew this wasn't typical of his age at the time, but thought little else about it. Besides, Preston is my cautious, deliberate, thoughtful child. From a young age, he wouldn't do anything he wasn't completely comfortable with, as evidenced by the fact that he didn't walk until he was 17 months old. But when he started, he hardly ever fell or stumbled.

After letting him play with the puffs, I finally stuck one in his mouth for him to eat to show him it was food and not a scary, foreign object. He moved it around in his mouth for a bit, but the second it started to move to the back of his mouth, he panicked, gagged, and spit it all up. Tears ensued, so I cleaned him off and canceled the lesson for the day. Next time.

Well, there were a lot of "next times," but never any successes. There was a lot of cleaning up throw up, though. So, I called it quits. The kid didn't have any teeth anyway, so we'd try again when he got some. Once a few teeth popped in, we tried again, but he wouldn't have it. The gag-filled lessons had scared off my cautious boy. Scott and I would show him how we did it, putting the food in our mouths and over-acting our chewing until it was all gone. All that taught Preston was to make really loud "Om-nom-nom" sounds. I tried ways of tricking him into it: making his pureed foods chunkier (on which he gagged), crumbling up graham crackers and putting that in his purees (on which he gagged), getting him quick-desolving yogurt drops (on which he gagged) … nothing seemed to work.

So, again, I called it quits. When he showed an interest in our foods, we'd try again. But as he got closer to 18 months old and was still not eating anything he had to chew, I got worried, egged on by the fact that he's in the third percentile for weight and height. Preston's doctor didn't seem concerned. He said to just keep at it. But wiping spit up and tears off my child's face (and fighting tears of my own) night after night didn't feel like it was helping. It just left both Preston and me frustrated and frazzled.

I felt like I'd failed my child. Eating is so basic; why wasn't I able to teach him how to? I was at a loss for what to do next.

About this time, I learned that speech therapy could actually help Preston. I had always thought speech therapy was for speech only, working with kids who have lisps or can't say the letter "T," but it covers a lot more than that. Feeding and eating actually play a huge part in speech development, and the act of chewing builds muscles that help the mouth form consonants later on.

I was so relieved to learn that there was an outside source I could go to. So much of the stress I felt and that Scott felt was that this was all on us, and now we would have someone else showing us some ideas and techniques that would help and who would also be an encouragement to Preston as well as us. Making it all the better was that there is a speech clinic at the university where I work, run by communication sciences and disorders undergraduate and graduate students along with their speech-pathologist professors, that could help us.

For the past three months, every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, Preston has been going to his feeding therapy with one of the sweetest graduate students who his helping him become more and more comfortable with food. When I ask Preston what he does with Mrs. Erin, he says, "Bubbles!" but they actually do a lot more. He's to the point now where he will ask for certain foods, actually put them in his mouth (which, on its own, is SO HUGE for him), and take bites. Sometimes he chews that bite, but he still spits out the food, never swallowing it. But he's progressing, slowly but surely, and I am so incredibly thankful for his therapist, for his progress, and for finally feeling like we've found something to help Preston along.

I say all this because there were times where I thought he'd grow out of it, times where it was a struggle, and times where I felt like I had a weird kid whom I didn't understand. There were even more times where I didn't want to say anything to anyone else for fear they would think I had a weird kid, too. I worried about him and cried about him and wanted nothing more than to be able to automatically fix what was wrong with him.

But now I don't feel so hopeless. His progress makes me so proud, and I think that this will be the year he'll want to and be able to eat a piece of cake for his birthday. He's come a long way!

How we spent our snow days

We were gifted an extra long weekend thanks to Sunday night's ice storm. I was most excited to get the phone call that campus was closed early in the evening so I could stay up late watching the Oscars (11 is very late for me) and not feel like morning Jennifer was going to hate me later.

Sure, there were things that needed to be done around the house and, with those two extra days off, we could've been very productive people. But Preston had been sick over the weekend, so he was still recovering from that. And I would much rather stay in my pajamas watching Netflix cuddling a sickly boy than any other "productive" activity. That's the true gift right there.

Preston has been stuck on his sunglasses for a little while now, and he started requesting the pairing of "gasses" and hat for around the house. Sometimes the glasses end up on his belly. March to your own drummer, little man.

Poor Scott had to venture out briefly on Monday, so Preston and I colored and worked on color recognition. I was completely surprised when he was able to name most of the colors he saw, something he'd been working on with his sitter. Anything with stickers is a hit with him, so he enjoyed it. Most of the stickers ended up on his face or my hand toward the end.

Thanks to Netflix, I was able to introduce Preston to the wonderful world of Disney and the word "movie." He was enrapt in "Lilo and Stitch," especially the musical stylings of Elvis, doing the finger guns dance he learned from Aunt Coco. (Please note the Guy Fieri-way of wearing his sunglasses he's sporting here.) I hadn't seen him sit still for that long in quite sometime. Later, Scott and I took advantage of nap time and watched some "House of Cards" (we're up to episode 6 in season 2).

While I'm incredibly ready for much warmer temperatures and much less ice, I was thankful for the days off and the time we got to spend together. Pajamas are always preferable to work attire.

Here comes the sun

Pulling into the driveway yesterday, I asked Preston, "Do you want to go outside?" His face lit up immediately. After a winter of being cooped up in the house, it was time to get into the sun and get the front of your shirt soaked in bubble solution. Each day holds its own little reminder that warmer days are ahead — the sun is a little brighter each morning, the birds are beginning to chirp, and slowly we can start to slip out of our big coats. The warm afternoon declared that we wouldn't be cold forever.

Squeals of "Bah-bools!" and "Pop!" echoed across the yard, and rocks were gathered and stored away by chubby little hands. The sun did us both some good, lightening our spirits and giving us a nice dose of vitamin D. I'm looking forward to more days like that.