Monthly Charlotte: Months one and two

As previously promised, like I did with Preston, I'll be taking monthly photos of Charlotte throughout her first year. I love being able to look back at Preston's and see how he grew, changed, and what he had learned to do that month, especially since I did a horrible job of maintaining his baby book (I started filling it out when I was eight months pregnant with Charlotte). It amazing how much can happen in a year. I'm looking forward to seeing where the next 10 months take Charlotte!

Month 1

Weight: 9 lbs, 9 oz

Height: 22 inches
Likes: Her pacifier, car seat and vibrating rocking chair, lights of any kind, and her big progther
Dislikes: Having her picture taken with a giant sticker stuck to her shirt, being cold, and being hungry
Accomplishments: She was deemed the "best baby in the nursery" by the lactation nurse the day after she was born, so that'll be included on her college application one day.

Charlotte turned one month on Thanksgiving day. At her two week old appointment, she weighed 9 pounds 9 ounces. She does not, however, have the Harris head, putting her only in the 50th percentile for head circumference. She's always grunting, switching between sounding like a piglet to a 1920s mobster ("Meh, see! Meh!"). If she were a 1920s mobster, she'd be called Hiccups Hannigan because she's had the hiccups almost every day of her life.

Just arrived//Little sister, big brother//Going home//Preston sharing his pacis//Post-bath cutie//Fun with Preston//So stylish//Four generations

Month 2

Weight: ~11 lbs
Height: ~23 inches
Likes: Baths, firmly grasping people's hair, staring at the ceiling fan, being sung to by her brother
Dislikes: Being taken out of the bath, being hungry, Scott's sneezes
Accomplishments: Charlotte is holding her head up a little better every day. She also goos and coos at us when we talk to her, and we've started getting real smiles (not gassy, dream smiles) out of her this month.

It's crazy how much babies change from the first month to the second. While she still has her monster chubby cheeks (which get kissed at every possible chance), she is a lot more alert and interactive. When she looks at me, it feels like she actually knows who I am rather than seeing me as a food source. She's the easiest baby and the happiest baby. There wasn't much need for adjustment when she came along. She was always supposed to be here and fits right into her little place in our family.

Daddy snuggles//Unimpressed//Christmas morning//Matchy, matchy//Family of four//The baby whisperer//Her first Christmas//Meeting Santa//Ready for church

Hello again

Whoopsy daisy. Looks like I took a bit of a break from blogging. It wasn't because I didn't have much going on. In fact, it was quite the opposite. I had too much happening and not enough time, energy or motivation, really, to blog it. But I plan on resolving that posthaste.

So, allow me to catch you up with what's been happening.

When last we spoke, I was pretty pregnant. There is no photographic evidence of this, which is no accident. I felt so cow-like this time around, I didn't want any photos taken. I kind of regret that now, especially for Charlotte's sake. If ever she wants to know what I looked like pregnant with her, she'll just have to picture my face on a blimp. That's pretty accurate.

However, it's too late for pregnancy pictures now because in October, the little lady arrived.

Our family went from three to four with the birth of sweet Charlotte. And life is grand.

We're slowly figuring out this "two kids" business and loving watching them get to know each other.

We've also celebrated seven years of marriage ...

... and Christmas.

Poor Preston got sick in the midst of all that.

And suddenly two months had passed. (More on that later. I can't drop the ball on doing monthly updates on Charlotte like I did with Preston. Then she'd really have a second child complex.)

Things are wonderful, busy and a little more spit-up covered, but we're so happy and slightly sleepy. It's a good little life we're living.

Goodbye, clutter; hello, cash

With baby's arrival inching ever nearer, Scott and I have gotten on a big organization kick. Now, for him, that's not such a huge character stretch, but when I'm the one pushing to go clean out a closet, it makes you peek out the window to see if pigs are soaring past. We've been organizing and straightening some things and clearing out and getting rid of others. It feels rather gratifying to see a once jumbled closet become easier to use or see a cluttered pantry get the amazing overhaul Scott did a week or so ago.

To get rid of the excess we've accumulated as well as put a little money back in the bank account, I've turned to a local Facebook garage sale page. People post pictures of what they're selling and others comment to purchase. Then you set up a time and place to meet and swap your old picture frames or bedding for cash. It's great if you have stuff you'd like to get rid of but don't want to have a full on garage sale of your own. (Plus, this way you don't have to deal with those early birds who show up in your front yard at 6 a.m.)

While I have had success in the Facebook group in selling home goods, I have had little to no luck selling my clothes. I found myself with a stack of clothes in my closet floor and no idea what to do with them.

But then I found Twice. It's a website where you can purchase name-brand clothes secondhand for much less and where you can sell your own used clothes and get paid upfront. After reading about how to sell your clothes, it seemed easy enough, so I thought I'd give it a try. I requested the free prepaid bag to send my clothes to them, but you can also print a prepaid label and send your clothes in whatever box you have lying around.

My sorted stack, ready to go// With nothing to compare it to, it's hard to tell, but it was a big bag!

When the bag arrived, I sorted through my clothes to see what qualified to send. Twice only takes clothes that are less than five years old and are on their list of accepted brands, so a few of my Target pieces didn't make the cut, but a number of my sweaters, jeans and tops qualified. I ended up with a little more than 20 items to sell. I stuffed them all in the bag, sealed it up, and took it to the post office. It was really easy, and I didn't have to set up to meet someone I've only contacted through Facebook or meet some consignment shops crazy standards just to sell with them. (I just finished preparing some of Preston's old clothes for a children's consignment sale here in town. I had to get plastic hangers, specific little white price tags, and safety pins and have everything lined up just so. To top it all off, it seemed the sale had caused a run on all safety pins because there were none to be found. This was much easier.)

Once Twice gets my shipment, they'll send me an offer, which I can either accept and get the amount sent to me in a check or deny and get my clothes back for $5 shipping. Since I just sent in my clothes, I can't speak to how happy I am with how much Twice pays out, but the note that came with the bag said that the average seller sends in 18 pieces and gets around $50. If that's how it plays out with me, I'll be very pleased.

So, here's to clean closets and a few more dollars in your pocket. What are your organization tips or suggestions? What do you do with your extra clutter?

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.

Actually pretty in pink

Let me be the first to say that I never ever ever thought my daughter would have a pink room. I have been waging the fight agains the frilly since the ultrasound nurse said "Girl!" As a young girl, I never liked pink. It's not so much the color itself, just the super girliness it seems to represent. I distinctly remember sitting in church, face red from crying and arms folded tightly, because my mom had made me wear a pink dress that day. And I was probably 12 — a little too old for such pouting. While I wasn't coordinated enough to wear the title of tomboy, I definitely wasn't a girly girl.

And this anti-girly girl mindset came into play when making decisions for baby girl. In my mind there would be no poofy dress that looks like a cupcake trying to swallow my child, there would be no Carmen Miranda bows the size of grapefruits adorned with feathers and sparkles strapped to her head, and there would be no glitter, no rhinestones, and no tulle. Sure, I want her to be feminine and sweet, but styled like a contestant on "Toddlers in Tiaras." I wanted the same style for her room, and to me that meant little to no pink.

Who would've thought that it would actually be Scott who selected the color and changed my mind about it. His way of preparing for baby has been planning her room, and it's been so sweet to watch him searching the Web, pinning what he likes to a secret pinboard (The boy's on Pinterest! It doesn't get much cuter). When he sent me what he had in mind, I was surprised with how much I liked it. While it did have pink, it was a pale pink, and paired with a kelly green in her bedding and curtains, it was just too perfect to say no to.

Thanks to our friends Katie and Nate, baby girl's room got painted this Saturday. Scott and Nate worked hard while Katie and I entertained Preston with sidewalk chalk, golf, and the sprinkler. Our part was much less difficult.

Now with the paint, it really feels like baby girl's room is beginning to take shape, even if it is only a pink room with a white dresser/changing table in it right now. And even though I've accepted the pink, I still stand firm on my cupcake dresses policy.

Fourth in four

While last year's Fourth of July consisted of moving and boxes and more boxes and boxes within those boxes, this Fourth was a lot less cardboard heavy and a lot more kick your feet up and eat some more. I will always prefer the latter. Here's what we were up to in Instagrams.

1. While bomb popsicles are definitely marketed to a younger crowd, I was the one who requested them for the weekend. (Really, I passed it off on baby girl. She's quite demanding.) They were the perfect accompaniment to sitting outside (With highs in the 80s, it was heavenly!) and watching Preston splash in the wading pool his Gran got him. Preston was hooked at first bite, but a little confused by the word popsicle. After he finished his bite, he said, "Oh! Ice cream!" Now we were speaking his language!

2. We kept Preston up way past his 8:15 bedtime to venture to the next town over for their fireworks show that Friday night. The noise and the lights frightened him a bit, so he and my mother-in-law watched from inside the car. (Once again, when on any other Fourth of July in recent memory could you sit in a turned off car and not pass out from heatstroke two minutes in?) Afterward, Preston said the fireworks were "Too bright!" and "Too loud!" but "Better in car."

3. We capped off Saturday by roasting the biggest marshmallows you've ever seen for s'mores. From the moment we got to Scott's mom's Thursday night to the time we left Sunday afternoon, I was never hungry. I ate, but it was never because my stomach growled and let me know I was running on empty. I mean, you've got to try at least one rib fresh out of the smoker, even if it's 11 p.m., right?

4. Since we were outside most of the weekend, it was obvious that the Rhino would make an appearance. Preston loved it, but you couldn't tell by his face. He took it all very seriously with the little crease between his eyebrows present for the entirety of his ride. Scott let him sit in his lap and "steer" while they made slow loops around the yard, and I thought after that we'd never get either one of them back inside.

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.