Halloween treat 2011

Friday, October 28, 2011

As a Halloween treat to you this year, we'd like to offer up these little slices of the season.

1.  an instagram pic of a pumpkin patch

2.  a video of Ghost Booboo tricking his Aunt Uch & Jojo

3. a missed opportunity of an awesome Halloween costume...for example:  Booboo totally should have been a blonde baby Danny McBride:

Happy Halloween!
the always
(not just at Halloween)
studer family

Bathtub Artist

We have discovered a fun way to spice up our bathtime with bathtub paint.  And now, it's not some expensive toy to buy

 - thanks to pinterest, were able to whip up some homemade bathtub paint using shaving cream and food coloring.  It was a huge hit with Booboo and we've done it a few times now to which he yells "Paint! Paint!" while I'm mixing up his colors.  The painting gets out Greyson's desire to destroy things and make a mess, but the shaving cream makes it a breeze to clean up (ie. spray water over it).  Sometimes its nice to have an extended bathtime since it means sitting and doing nothing but watching for a pregnant mumma.  Plus, I have no problems with promoting art in the house:)

admiring his work:)

Just one example of many of how pinterest has enriched our lives.  hahha, I'm not even kidding.

feel free to follow this board on pinterest to see more kid projects I've pinned!

Bullet is a good dog

Monday, October 24, 2011

No matter how many bones we have to buy.  No matter how much dog hair I have to vacuum up.  No matter how many UPS delivery truckdrivers he barks out of our driveway.  No matter how many times he sits on our feet.  The truth is - Bullet is a good dog.

because he listens to Booboo read

And he lets Booboo use him as a seat

And especially because he sits still for truck-sticker masterpieces. 

Our best friend's wedding

Thursday, October 20, 2011

One day, long ago, I walked into a dorm room and found my best friends.  Granted, at the time I hadn't known they were my best friends.  I was probably thinking, "oh, I hope these girls want to be my best friends."  You see, my two best friends were brought together as college freshman roommates by a quick brushstroke of lady luck's housing lottery.  I only happened to get to know them through another stroke of luck that we ended up living in the same dorm.  How I even was able to jump in on their already-established-friendship-since-we're-roommates-and-awesome is a mystery to me.  In my mind, we were friends - I can't even remember how it started.  But it had started in some way, and it was such a strong way that we stayed friends; the three of us, for four years through college.

And we at lunch and dinner together, and we took brisk walks together, and rented a house together, and we discovered facebook together, and we spent nights making pinky-promises, and we spent nights concocting mixed drinks together, and we spent nights watching sex&thecity marathons, and dyed each other's hair (okay, they dyed mine), and we told each other secrets, and we made up a name for ourselves (akt), and met each other's families, and boyfriends, and friends, and we fell into each other's hearts - like only true friends can.

And then we graduated and each moved and got our own lives.

And we called each other, and wrote emails, and we signed them with "akt fo lyfe" as kind of a joke and kind of not, and we met up in NYC, Altoona, Philly, Erie, and Baltimore, and we sent each other snail mail, and we asked each other to be bridesmaids, and even though we didn't talk everyday and didn't share the same life paths anymore, we still cried when the other was sad and celebrated when the other was happy.

And this summer, boy were we three happy.  

The A of akt was a bride this summer.  And KT of akt were bridesmaids beaming with pride and love.  First we met up on Al's bridal shower eve for some good 'ole fashion akt Friday night fun.  Okay, it wasn't that good 'ole fashion because we're older...and wiser...and not so much of the end-up-in-the-bathroom-at-the-end-of-the-night-making-pinky-promises-on-the-floor type girls anymore (although, never say never).  

And then we participated in Al's bridal shower the next day where Al was radiating bride beauty like I've never seen before.

And then we got to meet Allison's other friends at her Bachelorette party in Deep Creek.  It's one thing to know you have an amazing friend.  But then to meet her other friends, who are just as awesome is quite another.  Bachelorette party on the lake and cruising around in a pontoon boat...my version of an awesome weekend?  yes.  The 15 year old boat boy's version of a fantasy?  also, yes.  Inappropriate that we jokingly asked him if he owned a tear-away fireman's costume? yes.  funny, though?  yes.

And then we got dressed up, and got our hair done, and held flowers, and stood on the altar because she is our best friend no matter what big or little changes happen in her life. 

 photo by John Waire of The Wairehouse 
And then our best friend got married.
and she was happy.
and he was happy.
and we were happy for them.
 photo by John Waire of The Wairehouse
 photo by John Waire of The Wairehouse

And even though I've changed her name to Allison Karpy Hubbard in my cellphone, she is still Karpy to us.  Our best friend, Karpy...who's heart we hold dear...even if its inappropriate to do so on her wedding day.

 photo by John Waire of The Wairehouse

ps. akt fo lyfe.

Our Gender Reveal Party

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

As previously mentioned, we planned our gender reveal party to celebrate our second baby this past weekend.  It was such a fun way to surprise our family and friends...and ourselves(!!) about what to expect for our little studerbaby #2.

So we gathered our supplies, sent out our invitations, & ordered our cake.  Our gorgeous cake was made by our friend Crystal, who also happened to be the only non-hospital employee that knew the gender of our little baby.  She kept it a secret (even from her hubby) for 10 days.  She's awesome.  I also easily crafted up my mustaches and hairbows (thanks to pinterest, obviously) to allow party guests to display their gender guess before the cake cutting.

I also did some intensive googling to look up Old Wive's tales about how to predict what gender your baby will be.  I posted my pregnancy side effects by Old Wive's tale to help our party guests make more of an "educated guess."  Boy-baby side effects include:  no morning sickness, low heartbeat rate, and the Chinese Lunar calendar prediction.  My girl-baby side effects included:  sweet&salty cravings, slow leg hair growth (!hah), and Brandon's sympathy pregnancy symptoms (which included a 10 lb weight gain since my pregnancy!  thanks honey<3)

Then we invited our friends and family for brunch and mingling before the big reveal.

Aunt Uch & Aunt Kitty anticipating another nephew
the grandmas with a split decision

soon-to-be-baby-friends!  Stacy & I letting our baby bumps play together

Grey showing his cousin Caleb (& Caleb's mum Heather) all about Goodnight Moon.

The mummas and the babies.
Grey and his serious best friend, "Jojo!!!" 
Booboo is hoping for a little baby brother to knock around
Aunt Nina giving the mumma and baby bump a squeeze
After a lot of snacking and chatting, we proceeded with the final gender reveal guessing-tool of the "Wedding Band & Thread" experiment.  The Old Wive's tale states that if a wedding band suspended over the baby bump swings back & forth - you'll have a boy.  If it swings in a circle - you'll have a girl.  The final decision:  it moved back & forth.
hahhhha, my face.
Booboo, big brother, keeping a close eye on Dada's wedding band!
All the party guests had an option to change their guess one final time (no one did) and we took some quick team pics.

Then we moved to the big finale.  The Cutting of the Cake!!  Which really can only be shown appropriately through photo progression.

There is also a video...and I'm warning you that if you are at work or your child is napping...turn DOWN the volume.  When we pulled that piece of cake out; people went bananas.  My friend, Kate said afterwards that Brandon and I looked at each other and smiled when we saw it was a girl; so calm and internally excited like any parents do when they find out.  Brand and I actually talked about it that morning that we were excited to find out, but either way would have been wonderful.  We know how blessed we are to get another baby at all.  And then, as you'll hear in the video, everyone else at the party basically lost their minds...my sister Tasha said that she looked around at one point and was afraid someone was going to throw a chair through the window or rip their own shirt off.  I guess the anticipation build-up during the party was just too much.  hahha.  okay, you've been warned.

*At the start of the video you hear Gigi (grandma) Marianne saying "girl, girl, girl" that is just her praying.  And then at :02 she makes the hugest gasp of all time because she saw the inner crust of the cake and thought it was pink.  There's when I explain to the rest of the party that Brandon & I can't even see what color is inside.  (My mother-in-law has all brothers and only a son...she was pretty hopeful).

Shout outs to Stacy Stahl for her cellphone video of the cake cutting which had us cracking up for an hour afterwards.  And to my baby sis, Tash who took all the photos of the day, thank you<3 

So, we're having a baby girl.  Gemma Rose.  It feels good to know there will be another girl in this house.  It feels good to know that Brandon's world is about to shrink in a few months when he's introduced to a little girl who will hold him higher than any other man in her life.  It feels good to know that Booboo will learn to be kind and gentle and sensitive.  It feels good to know that Gemma will learn from her big brother to be daring and adventurous and strong.  Get strong, Gemma...we're all waiting patiently for you.

blog hopper: Parenting Illustrated with Crappy Pictures

Friday, October 14, 2011

By my various means of momma blog stalking (similiar to the facebook trail of doom, where you suddenly end up looking at pictures from your high school best friend's little brother's best friend's 21st birthday), I stumbled upon a blog this morning that had me crying-laughing at 6am.  Seriously, laughing hysterically and wiping my face off while very unsafely holding a hot cup of tea in my hand.  Please read this post, and then feel free to read the rest of her stuff because its all hilarious.  (warning:  she's a momma, so if you aren't a momma or you don't get the humor out of stories that mom's tell, you probably are not going to be dying laughing like I was, but its worth a shot?)

Why do I think this is so hilarious?  The same reason everyone cracks up at Seinfeld and Jeff Foxworthy (depending on which demographic you fit); because I know exactly what she's talking about.  Grey cannot stand to see Brandon or I laying down with our eyes closed.  He goes into Ninja-mode and puts the heel of his hand on whatever part of our face is resting comfortably on a pillow and screams in our ears, "Mummmmmmmmmma"  or "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaada" while pushing our faces toward the ceiling repeatedly until we sit up with our eyes (at least) half open.  Sometimes he wakes up at 6:30a on a Saturday and he opens his door and waddles into our room and stares over the bed like a child of the corn and demands "UP!"  So, after using all of my half-asleep might to pull his dead weight up on the bed, he climbs over me and proceeds to do the face punching move to Dada (if any of you have ever spent time with my husband, you have a vague idea on how much he is the opposite of a morning person).  When this happens, some part of me is equally sympathetic and jealous.  Jealous because I know this behavior is not acceptable for a wife to do to her husband when she wants him to wake up already.

happy blogging:)

Why mothers of sons should buy stock in band-aids

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

When I found out that I was pregnant with a son, I was nervous that I wouldn't know what to do with a boy.  I've been a brother-less sister my whole life and I have 8 first girl cousins...and only 2 first boy cousins.  Let me tell you, I don't know the first thing about how little boys play, or think, or act.  So then I had my baby boy and he was so sweet and cuddly and precious.

And then he learned to walk.  And that's when I learned that boys have one mission in mind:  to destroy anything in sight.  Not maliciously (all the time) but because, as I have observed, it helps them figure things out.  Where a girl will walk over to her toy bin and take things out and arrange them nicely, my son will walk over pull a hand full of things out and throw it against the wall....and then step on it.  Where a girl will dig and push sand around, fill up a bucket and pour it out; my son will throw it in the air, lean over and scoop it up in his mouth, and  drag a bucket through it only to dump it out in the grass.  As a woman, I watch my son's actions with look that can only be described as confusion mixed with a little bit of intrigue and topped off with a pinch of dumbfoundedness.

that's french onion dip, folks

please note that his entire body is soaked

The thing about being a mother of a tough and rowdy kind of little boy is that you yourself also need to become tough and rowdy to survive motherhood.  Each evening when I change him into his jammies, I do a quick scan of new bumps and bruises, scrapes and blood that needs wiped away.  Have you ever noticed that when I a little boy falls, he climbs back up with maybe a short whine and keeps on trucking, but when a little girl falls the neighboring town knows because her scream is so piercing it has just awoken their sleeping animals.  Is it because little boys are tough?  NO.  it's because little boys fall down approximately 250 times an hour. I seriously think little girls just don't have the practice at it as much as boys; they are just more aware of their body's limitations.  Where girls are cautious with their bodies, boys are careless. Warning, this is not an exaggeration:  we regularly (as in at least once a week) have to pull out the flashlight to check to see if Grey has a concussion.  (update:  fortunately, he hasn't yet.)

If Grey falls, or trips, or jumps, or gets knocked over, or walks into anything...my first response is to wait.  I don't even flinch.  I wait to see his reaction to register how bad of a bruise its going to be.  Usually, its no response, he just gets back up.  Sometimes its an, "uh oh," or "oww."  Again, I don't even acknowledge it. Sometimes he looks up and tries to find me and does a semi-run over to me with a whine.  This means a hug and a "you okay, buddy?  You need to be careful."  And then there is the cry that mothers of sons know; the one that puts your hair up on your arms and you physically brace yourself for the sight of your own child's blood outside of their body.  The cry that makes you seriously consider, "Oh God, is this going to be the time something's broken?"   Well, we've had that kind of week here at the Studer House, you see, in the matter of a few days, Grey has managed to both fall on the concrete face first AND knock his forehead full force off of the tv stand.  We've been hesitant to take him out in public for fear that random strangers will call child services after taking one look at the purple-harry-potter-bruise across his forehead and the missing top layers of skin on and under his nose.  Of course I took a picture of him, especially to show how he eerily resembles a chucky doll...(which I will not apologize for if you have nightmares tonight).

To those mommas of boys (or soon to be mommas of boys), I hope you are sighing in relief while nodding your head.  When we pass each other in the grocery store, we give each other half smiles because we recognize our own child's busted knees and scraped elbows in your child.  We see your son's snot on the sleeve of your shirt and the syrup he rubbed in his hair.  We aren't even going to warn you about the fourteen stickers he stuck to your ass because we figure we've probably got them on ours.  To be a mumma of a boy means to roll with the punches....literally.

And for those of you that are shaking your head in disbelief because you have bruise-free daughters that wear cute, CLEAN clothes; our only consolation as momma's who are enduring boys in toddlerhood is knowing that not only were we once little girls, but we were also once fifteen year old girls....so let's do a comparison again in about thirteen years, eh?