The 2009 Spickler Christmas Video

An Excellent Baby

Yes, Walt, an excellent baby indeed.  (We just won't mention the 30 minute naps and the tendency to get up every three hours at night.)

Photo Shoot with Mommy

Check out my purty babies . . .

 

Birthdays

Someone turned 35 years old on Friday. 

Someone turned two months old on Saturday. 

The two-month old weighed in at 12 lbs., 13 oz. (75% percentile) and measured 23 inches (50% percentile) at his check-up last week.  The 35-year old . . . well, I don't have authorization to share that info. 

Halloween and Stuff

I keep trying to get Josh to write a post to up the entertainment factor, but he just muttered something about NFL and the World Series and ignored me.  So, you're stuck with me, and I'm pretty wiped, so we're going to go with the mostly pictoral post.

 

Start 'em young, we always say!  (This would be a Central BBQ onesie, for those of you wondering.)

 

Yeah, we're going to call that a smile (from Patrick, not Josh -- he's been doing it for a while now).  We got our first one the day before he turned six weeks.  They're not frequent yet, but sweet when we get them!

 

Putty (and Nana, of course) paid us a visit over Putty's birthday weekend.  Here he shows off some of his gifts (CCR's greatest hits and raspberry dark chocolate -- a natural combo if ever there was one).

 

Josh and Walt give us their prettiest smiles during our trip to the zoo that same weekend.

Playing chess.  Because apparently checkers just weren't challenging enough.  (Uncle David, we need some serious coaching help.  I always beat him, but it's generally an accident.)

 

Halloween costume #1 -- Storm Trooper (technically a Clone Trooper, I think, but don't tell him that).  This is what he wore to school and for trick-or-treating.  Thanks to Cousin Collier for the loaner.

 

Halloween costume #2 - professional soccer player (thanks to Harriet and Richard for the uni).  This is what he insisted on wearing Saturday afternoon while waiting to go trick-or-treating when he decided he didn't want to be a Storm Trooper anymore.  Until he didn't want to be a soccer player anymore.  He has a very patient daddy.

And here's our little punkin head.  And some video of him working the speed bag.

Bowling Baby

Oh yeah, we took our not-quite-six-week old to the bowling alley.

 

But lest you question our parenting skills in light of this fact, please notice the open container of hand sanitizer in the picture below.

 

You feel better about it now, right?

Saturday Afternoon

It started out with Walt just hanging out next to Patrick watching football.

 

Then he noticed I had the camera out and snuggled up closer for a Kodak moment.

 

Then, per usual, he got all up in the poor baby's business.

 

Guess who kept right on sleeping?

Zzzzzzzzz

So, here's Patrick.  He's cute and sweet and pretty sleepy.  Definitely waking up a little more, but still spends most of his time studying the backs of his eyelids. Love that baby.

When he does wake up for more than a meal (which he's obviously not missing many of), he often gets a bath.  So, you know, at least a couple of times a week.  (Yeah, baby Walt got baths every night.  Sue us.)

We took a trip to Murray last weekend, but apparently left our camera in the bag most of the time because the only picture we have worth posting is this one of Uncle Mancil blowing out his birthday centerpiece (no desserts -- including birthday cakes -- are made in the Crouch household as long as the DQ is open).  Happy 85th, Uncle Mancil!

And speaking of the Dairy Queen, Patrick did take his ceremonial first trip, but only Gram took her camera.  She's promised to email pictures soon, so check back for those.

And, finally, for the big announcement of the evening . . . Walt is reading!  (Kind of.)  This evening when we were waiting for Daddy to come home, I suggested that we read some books instead of watching another show.  Because a girl can only listen to so many shows about dinosaurs before she starts to go a little nuts.  Walt thought it would be a better idea if he read a book to Patrick.  I gently reminded him that he didn't know how to read and also that Patrick was still snoozing in his car seat where we'd left him when we came in from school two hours before.  Well, Walt said, I can learn before he wakes up and then I can read him a story.  Instead of informing him that learning to read generally takes longer than the span of an average infant's nap (or even one of Patrick's epic naps), I sent him off to get the set of Curious George phonics books that Gram and DeeDaddy gave him for Christmas last year.  And to my great surprise, the kid really can kind of read.  Still needs quite a bit of help, but he's getting there on sounding words out and already recognizes a bunch of words by sight.

Oh, and finally, I've started Patrick's Birthday Pics album at left.  Yeah, we're already late on the one month picture.  Not starting out well on this whole "treat-the-second-kid-just-like-the-first" thing, are we?

What Patrick Is Doing Right Now

The Short One

I (Ginger) remember back in the early days of Walt's World when the blog's namesake was just a babe . . . we would somehow find things to post about on a daily (and sometimes more than once a day) basis.  Fascinating topics like diaper changes and swaddling techniques.  And you crazy people read them! 

Well, you may have noticed that poor Patrick (referred to around here as "the short one") is already suffering from second child syndrome . . . it has been more than a week since we've posted even a glimpse of him.   It's not that we don't think he's just as perfect and wonderful as we did his big brother because we absolutely do.  If anything, I'm enjoying his babyhood even more.  Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we don't plan on doing this again, so I'm savoring every moment.  Or maybe it's that HE SLEEPS ALL THE TIME.  Never underestimate the sweet factor of a sleepy baby.  You can just hold them and smell them and kiss them and they don't care!  They just go right on snoozing!  Who knew?  (Certainly not me after getting through Walt's first year.)

But back to the point, being that second babies often don't get much love in the baby book/blog department.  So, in an attempt to rectify that (for this week, at least) . . . here's what Patrick's been up to since last we posted.

First bath.  He was his usual stoic self during the experience.  He did give it to us pretty good the second time around, but the first time just seemed a bit perplexed.

Napping with Putty.  Nana and Putty came down last week to accompany Walt on his farm field trip to Marion, Arkansas, since I couldn't make it.  Apparently the farm wore Putty out.  Being alive wears Patrick out.

Story time with Daddy and big bro.  No time like the present to start learning about wildlife. 

Catching a few late afternoon rays on the porch this afternoon while Walt and I played Old Maid and Go Fish.  Aren't those the most beautiful chubby cheeks you've ever seen?  Yeah, I thought so.

Soccer Post

Walt is playing soccer.  

He loves it.

He occasionally gets some pointers from the sidelines.

And I'm not saying the two are related, but sometimes he scores. 

And Then He Has to Gather the Eggs

Look Who's Awake!

It doesn't happen often, but occasionally Patrick will deign to stay awake long enough for me to sprint across the den to grab the camera and snap a few pictures of him with his eyes open before he succumbs to the overwhelming exhaustion of life on the outside and goes back to sleep.  Which makes him pretty portable.  Case in point, he attended his first neighborhood soiree on Friday night when the Cooper Young Parents Network gathered in our next door neighbors' yard to cheer on the runners of the Festival Four Miler.

Patrick's there, but hiding out in the sling hanging across my body.  He slept soundly through the whole party while big brother Walt and his pals Meredith, Adam and Vincent encouraged the runners during the last mile of the race.

Welcome to the 'hood, P!

Brothers

This is Walt "protecting" Patrick from the Evil Evie Monster.

This is Patrick being very grateful to his big brother for saving him from the canine menace.

What's In a Name

As many of you have pointed out, this blog can no longer bear the name of only one of our two boys.  So, it is with some sadness that we must retire 'Walt's World.'  It's been almost five years.  We like to think we were blogging before blogging was cool, but who are we kidding?  This is still really nerdy, but when you live 200 miles from most of the people who think every hiccup and squeal is worthy of publication, the blog is the way to go.  Right grandparents?

So, here you have it: Boys in the 'Hood, the tales of our recently expanded brood of two excitable and sleepy male children.

Here's the excitable (orange balloons):

And here's the sleepy:

Thanks for reading.  Here's to five more years of blogging goodness . . . in the 'hood.

And Now a Word from Our Mommy

For those of you who come here for the clever witticisms of the resident daddy, I hate to disappoint you, but I figured it was time for me to speak up on the arrival of our newest family member.  And those of you who know me to be . . . well, a bit on the unsentimental side . . . prepare for more sap than you're used to.  I promise to quickly return to normal lest you send me back to the hospital for a good head examination.

I have always considered myself to be leading a fairly charmed life.  I had the benefit of growing up as part of a wonderful, loving family in a great small town.  I had good friends there and since making my life in Memphis have gained even more who enrich my life in so many ways.  I met the man of my dreams (yes, Josh, that would be you) while going to a college I loved.  I married said man and had seven wonderful pre-kid years with him to get to just hang out, travel, eat fancy dinners, watch movies (in actual theaters), and basically become an adult with him.  And those are just the highlights.  I'm not saying I haven't encountered any difficulties (and I expect there will be more along the way), but it has never been too hard for me to trust God with the details of my life because He has provided for me over and over again.

But never in my life have I felt more blessed than I have over the past few days.  I am overwhelmed with gratitude to God for entrusting Josh and me with these two boys.  When Walt was born, I remember being a bit skeptical that this floppy little lump of baby would ever be able to inspire the incredible feelings of parental ardor that I'd heard so much about.  This time, though, knowing how much I love Walt now seems to have increased my capacity for loving the tiny, squirming poop machine that is Patrick right now.  And as much as I wish he could stay this tiny forever, I also can't wait to find out who he's going to be and am honored to be on the journey with him and his big brother.  Charmed indeed.

Settling In

Is this the most popular older sibling/baby pose ever?

Pictures of the Day

Pretty boring, eh?  But quite handsome if you ask me, his dad.

Eagle-eyed observers will note the port from an IV sticking out from under his cap.  He's on a protocol of antibiotics because of a sketchy lab result, but no one is very worried that it is anything to be concerned with.  He's still an eating, pooping, sleeping, beautiful mess.  We hope to be able to take him home tomorrow, NFL opening day.  Titans-Steelers with Daddy and Walt.  Wooohooooo!!!

Pic of the Morning

Patrick has been sleeping soundly for most of the morning.  He had a good first night.

Daddy, on the other hand, found himself standing over the bassinet at 4:30AM with a veteran labor and delivery nurse looking over his shoulder.  I had been asleep at 4:29:38AM.  She had been working since 7PM.  Look, I'm no octo-dad or anything, but I've changed my share of diapers.  It's just been awhile.  She prodded, "Is he wet?  Have you checked him?  Aren't you going to change him?"  Me: "Uh, uh, where's Ginger?  Who's wet?  Who are you?  I don't know a Linda.  Whose kid is this?"  Let's go to baseball for an analogy . . .

Remember Nolan Ryan?  The all-time strikeout leader?  He pitched until he was 46-years old.  He's 62 now, and I'd be willing to bet he could still strike out about 30% of current major league players.  But you start him in a game in the Majors today, and he's gonna give up a few hits.  And if he played, you wouldn't see Tim Lincecum, the current NL Cy Young frontrunner, walk up to Nolan Ryan and tease him.  You know why?  Because Lincecum respects those that came before him.  And because he recognizes that ol' Nolan can probably still bring the heat with a little practice.

Well, I was Nolan Ryan this morning at 4:30AM, and Nurse "Hotshot" Linda was taunting me.  And she continued to taunt me, "[Baby talk] Is your daddy still sleepin'?  He doesn't know what hims is doing does he?  Look at hims trying to put that teeny tiny diaper on your little bottom.  Hims so clumsy."  If nurse Linda is around NEXT Tuesday morning at 4:30AM, I'm gonna hurl a 92 MPH fastball diaper change at her head.  Because give me some time, and I'll be back in top form.  But come on! Twelve hours after he's born?  I'm dead asleep, and you're taunting me?  My oldest is four and a half; I'm rusty.  Give me a break, Nurse Linda.  I'll see you in the playoffs.

A Long First Day

That 5AM alarm seems like it was about three years ago now.  So, I've got nothing witty to say, but I have two handsome and very loved little boys to feature on this blog from now on.  Without further adieu, we present Patrick Stephen Spickler, appearing in his first Photo Album on Walt's World.  ("Patrick Arrives" in the left column)

By the way, we're taking suggestions on the blog naming situation.  Submit your thoughts, ideas and suggestions for a new name for Walt's World in the Comments section.

Thanks for all of the calls, messages, emails, Facebook posts, Tweets and visits today.  We look forward to many more tomorrow and in the days to come.  We feel very, very blessed at the end of this amazing day.

Patrick Stephen Spickler

Born today at 3:53PM. 7lbs 15oz.

Mommy, Daddy, Walt and Patrick are all doing great.

Number Two

Here we go again.

Hard Hat Area

Walt occasionally gets enthusiastic about household tasks that we give him.  Very occasionally.  Usually, he resists with every ounce of his being any attempt to get him to be a productive member of this family, although he has promised many times to brush his own teeth, dress himself, wipe his own bottom, etc., etc. "when Mike gets here."  Somehow I think he understands that Mike's gestation will be a full 16% of his life, and he's making the most of it and is not about to exercise any independence any sooner than necessary.

However, there is one job he has taken seriously: pecan picker upper, a job vital to the survival of our backyard grass.  Despite the inherent hazards in picking up nuts that have fallen, and continue to fall, from above, Walt has embraced his task with great zeal, a dump truck . . . and, of course, a level of precaution only a Crouch could muster.

FM Radio

Memphis recently launched a new ESPN sports-talk radio station on an FM signal.  Which is kind of like the Sirens on those islands in Greek mythology.  Ships would sail straight into the rocks just to listen to the beautiful sounds.  In Memphis, men (and their cars) just drive toward the signal.  Bridges, medians and trolleys beware.  We just drive.  We take the long way to work.  We sit though green lights.  We sit in our cars for 10 minutes after we get where we're going.  Just so we can hear Mike Golic's opinion of who is winning the battle for starting tight end in the Seattle Seahawks' training camp.  Life is good.

Ginger is set to go into labor within the next two weeks.  She will give birth to my second son.  See, I told you life is good.

If you think these two events have nothing in common, you haven't been listening to ESPN Radio recently.  I don't know if this is just another indicator of my advancing age, or if it happens every year, but it seems like every morning, another of ESPN's radio personalities is telling about his son's training camp and imminent starting role for a college or NFL football team. They wax philosophical, as only self-important, former pro athletes can.  They tell tales of weeping in the press box as their first-born emerge from the tunnel at Notre Dame or some such institution.

Well, I haven't wept, yet, but the opportunities are piling up around here. 

We don't have to tell you about the obvious new beginning.  It's stretching the physical limits of Ginger's stomach as we speak.  But we also began a new chapter in Walt's education just today.  He started two days per week in a Pre-K program at Downtown Elementary School this morning.  This is probably a lot like starting on the offensive line for the Fighting Irish but without the remedial math tutor.

Never mind that he looks like he's 27 in this picture.  He and his giant backpack climbed into the car with me this morning for our first "boys trip" downtown to pre-kindergarten.  My immediate plan for the trip was to introduce him to the aforementioned ESPN Radio station and all of its NFL Preseason glory.  We had made it approximately five houses down Nelson before I switched off the radio and just listened.  And listened.  And contributed when prompted, "Daddy, now you talk about dinosaurs."  We quickly established that I knew precious little about our favorite extinct friends.  And we moved on to the various schools that we passed on the way downtown.  When I pointed out that the people walking on the sidewalks around the University of Tennessee Medical School were also going to school (to be doctors like Deedaddy), Walt responded with exasperation and panic, "But Daddy, I don't even know what I want to be when I grow up, yet."  As if he needed to figure this out before we got to his new school.

I reassured him that we would figure it out later, and we held hands as we crossed the same street as those future doctors and ventured into a "big boy" school buzzing with First and Second and Third and Fourth and Fifth and Sixth Graders!  Scary.  "I wasn't even scared, and I liked it," he would tell me later about his first 2.5 hours of formal education.  Part of me wanted him to cling to me as I left, but he didn't.  He dove in and played and drew and ate gingerbread men and got a blue (the highest) for conduct today. 

I needed that crossing guard more going back to my car than I did going in.  So I didn't get hit by a bus while I fought back the tears of pride and fear and anticipation of starting it all again in a few days.  I can't wait.

The Time Draws Near . . .

Obviously!  I'm 37 weeks today and, as of Tuesday, 2 cm dilated.  Which could mean something or nothing.  I'm still kind of hoping to hang in there until at least September, but then again, the nesting instinct has been quite strong this time, and if it takes too much longer, I'm going to start reorganizing the . . . uh, I can't think of anything ridiculous to reorganize because I have already reorganized EVERYTHING IN THE HOUSE.  No, wait!  I still have my pajama drawer to go!  Gotta run!