Happy 18 Monthiversary, Brady!

In celebration of turning 1 1/2 years old, Brady has decided that he hates life. Yes, that's right: our once-angelic, smiling, happy-go-lucky little guy now throws his food, purposely defies us, and refuses to do the simple things he once did with no problems or protest. All of you veteran parents are reading this saying to yourself, "This is what happens;" all of you rookie parents are saying, "I feel your pain!" I would just like someone to say, "I'll take Brady until he's 10!"

Brady even exhausts Hurricane

Thursday was Brady's routine check-up. He is 24 pounds (25th percentile for weight), and hasn't grown one inch since his last visit! He's still about 2 feet, 7 inches, and three months ago that put him in the 75th percentile for height; currently, he's in the 25th. The doctor said that's pretty normal and we shouldn't worry, but of course Zach is all worked up that the kid will be a midget. The doctor also commented on Brady's attention span (AKA: he is extremely nosy); he said that a child who can focus on something for an extended period of time while this young has statistically proven to be a studious, intelligent adult. Yeah, well, the good doctor didn't take Brady to the library today to have him throw the mother of all fits when he couldn't hurl books across the tables. The cries were so piercing that a passerby would have thought I was physically abusing him. Our lovely pediatrician also didn't bear witness to the toe-headed child as he refused to walk and, instead, sat down on the snowy sidewalks. Studious my pregnant behind...

Bella, trying to stay out of the way.

The scene at the library was actually so traumatizing (for me...) that I headed to the local YMCA to see what programs they offer for kids Brady's age. Of course, because we live in the middle of nowhere, there is ZERO for the kid to do. Unless, of course, we want to buy a monthly family membership so Brady can run around during open gym two days a week. Are you kidding me?! I am on a mission to cure this horrible case of cabin fever. Brady needs a change of scenery so bad; my first task is to try and set up a play date for him once a week. It's a shame we're so isolated and the only thing our town has to offer is a teeny library where the kids' room is under construction "until further notice," but I will persevere. Oh yes.

Forgot to crop out my head due to the bags under my eyes...

I'm just finishing up my 25th week of this pregnancy, but I feel like it's the 35th. My belly has become so heavy and uncomfortable that I am having a very hard time getting Brady in and out of his car seat. Stepping over the gate in the above picture is also quite the chore, and it's rare these days when walking up a flight of stairs doesn't leave me winded. Ahh, the joys of pregnancy. Anyway, this week I had the infamous glucose screening test. At first, I was annoyed by the fact that I had to sit in an office for an hour after guzzling what seems like a liter of orange syrup only to have half of the blood drawn from my body. However, after the past two weeks with Brady and craziness at work, I gladly took the hour to myself. Well, and with the numerous crazies in the waiting room who refused to change the TV from the Weather Channel because they had to make preparations for the incoming blizzard. We got one inch, but I'm sure they had enough toilet paper and milk to last a month.

In honor of our beloved Stillers making it to the Superbowl this year, here are a few Jankowski black and gold shots from the beginning of the season. It's fun to note that the last time I was pregnant, we WON the Superbowl. It's also nice to look back on these pictures and remember the days when Brady didn't scream at the idea of having his picture taken. Yep, that's why there are no new shots of our friend; he refused and I was too tired to fight him. Brady: 1, Mom: 0  

The good ol' days when he didn't hate me...

Go Stillers!

Little Pol-am-a-lu :-)