Last night, we made our first family trip to Blues on the Green.  The Old 97′s headlined the free concert for thousands of very sweaty Austinites (it was 105 degrees when we arrived at 7:15 PM…sick).  If you’re not familiar with the Old 97′s, you should do yourself a favor and visit your nearest Hastings, or iTunes if that’s more your thing.  Either way, check them out.  They’re one of our favorites.  Doug and I have both seen them perform multiple times, but this was Rhett’s first.  The lights and the loud music had nothing on him, he loved it.

The best part of the night, hands down, was what transpired immediately following the concert.  See, the lead singer’s name is Rhett Miller.  While he is easy on the eyes, and while I had never heard the name “Rhett” before knowing about him, we did not in fact name our firstborn after him.  At least we don’t talk about it, if we did.

After the Old 97′s finished the show with one of my top 10 songs of all time, Timebomb, we went up to the stage to see if we could catch the man that (conveniently) shares Rhett’s name.  The moments that followed have gone down as one of my favorite moments of (little) Rhett’s life so far.

Rhett, meet Rhett.

It’s hotter than the fires of Hades and I am again wondering if God is frowning on pregnant women.  Thankfully, Austin is just about all Rhett knows and doesn’t yet question our decision to live here, when there’s always San Diego.

Since he does like to be entertained and I melt like a popsicle if left outside too long, we’ve been spending time in front of the mirror working on our facial expressions.  The results:

“Oooooooohhhhhhhhh”
Smiling on command

It’s a new day.  Thank God.

Rhett now naps with suspenders attached to his diaper.  And a plastic tarp covering the walls and floors.  A failure to plan is a plan for failure…that’s what I’ve always said.

No, I kid.  We’re taking a few precautions and hoping for the best.  A video monitor may be in our future.

Partly because I want to be better about blogging, but mostly because I don’t want the poop painting post to hang on my homepage too long, I must tell you about swimming lessons.

Rhett is nearly 18 months.  He doesn’t speak a word of English.  And he’s in swimming lessons.  It’s comedic, for sure.  The class is open to 6-month-olds – 4-year-olds.  Quite a range.  And all but Rhett and his little girlfriend, Kate, speak English…which obviously gives the others an unfair advantage.

We’ve been working on kicks and scoops, lying down on a board (on back and tummy), a water-version of the hokey-pokey and the wheels on the bus, and how to jump off the side of the pool into momma’s arms.

Rhett is a natural.  Especially at lying on the board.  Must have learned how to relax from Bagby.  He really loves the water and isn’t afraid at all.  All the while, he’s working on a nice tan and flirting with his teachers.

Miss Miranda, Rhett and Miss Molly

I could have gone without June 8, 2011.

No offense to my Canadian friend, Erin, who is celebrating her birthday today.  As I was thinking about her this afternoon, I thought that today would be a great day to celebrate a birthday – it’s only 101 degrees in June, there’s a new opening on the Today show, and no recent news on Charlie Sheen.  Not a bad day to celebrate your birthday.

These thoughts were interrupted by a little squealer at about 2:15 PM.  I went upstairs to check on him and walked in to what I hope is the most disgusting thing I will have to deal with as a parent.

Poop painting.

Baby Houdini has gone to another level.  He took his diaper off.  Pooped.  And began using it as paint.  And yes, even face paint.  I’ve never felt so disgusted at my little, uh, angel.  I spared myself (and you) from any pictures to remember this atrocious moment, except this one, just to give you a little smidgen of the horror.

I immediately picked him up and put him in the bathtub.  For those of you that have this misfortune in your future, I recommend letting the specimen (your child) soak in warm water, while you grab your rubber gloves (*don’t leave baby unattended in bathtub*).  Then drain the water, and start over.  Repeat as necessary.

As I picked him up out the bathtub, I told him “I forgive you, but that was so disgusting.  And I will have no problem sharing this story at your rehearsal dinner.”  The threat didn’t seem to resonate.  But, I feel sure it will one day.

My mom asked, “Did you just laugh when you walked in?”  If you are wondering the same thing, the answer is an emphatic “no.”  To laugh upon walking in on that, you would either have to be a grandparent or crazy…and right now, I am not sure of the difference.  No, I didn’t laugh.  I am sure I will one day.  But not today.  Not June 8th.

As a note of thanks, I would like to offer a HUGE thank you to my friend, Mandy, who warned me that children can do this.  Do your friends a favor, and pass this on to any new parents, or prospective parents, so that if and (dare I say) when this happens, they won’t think they’ve given life to a devil child.

Listen, I don’t want to talk about how long it’s been since I have posted.  It’s ungodly, I’m aware.  So, in an attempt to gracefully get back into this thing, I shall update you on what it has been like to be Brown for the past two months (ugh).

Doug and I had a super romantic vacation to Napa Valley in March.  We stayed in Yountville (curiously famous for their restaurants), Healdsburg (a town with a square – which all towns need) and Carmel (not in Napa Valley, but for nostalgia’s sake).  It was perfect.  Everything.  The places we stayed, the food we ate, the wine we drank.  It was all a dream.  And for me and Doug, we remembered that we like each other.  Not that we had really forgotten, but there’s something about spending one-on-one time for an entire week and realizing that you would choose that person over anyone else to do it all over again with.

Cakebread Cellars

Super famous bakery that was directly behind our hotel.  If you’re a Today Show watcher, you see the NY version in the Plaza of this quaint cutie.

A surprise “Anniversary Package” from Gigi and Pops in Healdsburg.  Included breakfast in bed, bottle of champagne, flutes to take home, and a stuffed animal – such a funny addition, but Rhett loves his Goober Bear.  A huge thank you to Gigi and Pops for such a sweet surprise.

Doug loves cars.  Not really my thing, but marathoning isn’t really his thing.  So, we learned to make a few compromises on this trip.  On our way to Carmel, we stopped by the Laguna Seca Raceway.  We walked for miles and miles (uphill both ways) to see this beautiful stretch of pavement.  The highlight, for Doug, was this part right here.  In the biz, they call this “The Corkscrew.” 

The view from our room at Bernardus Lodge in Carmel Valley.  This was, by far, the nicest hotel I have ever seen.  It was totally immaculate, which explains why we stayed here just one night.  And yes, we played Bocce Ball.  And yes, I won.

And for old time’s sake, we went to the rocks on Carmel Beach where we got engaged.

Seven days with my hunkity.  Never fought.  Enjoyed every moment.  We were able to video chat with Rhett (who stayed at our house with a healthy rotation of grandparents) a few times.  We missed him, for sure.  But, it was surprisingly easier on us than we had expected.  A huge thank you to The Grands for taking such good care of our peanut while we vacationed.

So, yes, turns out that our vacation was also…uh…productive.

Yes siree.  Baby Brown #2 is due to arrive on December 2, 2011.  This sonogram was done at just 5 weeks.  The baby was only 3mm long and we were still able to see the heartbeat.  Really unbelievable.  We are completely thrilled, and sometimes horrified.  I have to remind myself that people have had two kids for thousands of years and done well.  I just dont know how they do it.  Which kid do you get out of the car first?  When do you ever sleep?

As for me, I am feeling pretty good.  My pregnancy with Rhett was a breeze.  This one, however, has been a little different.  I have only had one day of sickness, but it was the pits.  I have no idea how people handle that for weeks on end.  Other than that, just extreme fatigue.  Definitely more tired than I remember being with Rhett.  Gigi is convinced it’s a girl.  For us, we’ve decided not to find out the gender this time.  Doug didn’t want to find out with Rhett, so he wins this time.

I’m not showing yet, so no belly shots for now…maybe ever.

As for Rhett, he is growing like a weed.  He’s walking like a wild man.  Doing a lot of blabbing, but no real words yet.  He has crazy, unruly hair.  And continues to be the greatest delight in our home.

How’s that for an update?

Our little man took his first steps yesterday! Still has sea legs for sure, but we’re counting ‘em.

Here’s how it went down:
Doug arrives home after work.
A: I think Rhett is so close to walking, maybe he was just waiting for Daddy to get home.
D: Let’s see. Come on, buddy.
Doug and I sit facing each other about 3 feet apart. Doug stands Rhett between us.
D: Let’s see what you got.
Rhett takes a step!
A & D: (freaking out!) Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! You were waiting for Daddy! Holy cow! You did it!!!
A: Let’s do it again.
Rhett takes two steps!
A & D: (the crowd goes wild) Incredible!! You’re such a good walker! Again, again!
Rhett takes three steps!
R: (laughs)
A & D: Unbelievable!  We’re so proud!  You did so good!  Let’s do it again.
Rhett’s legs turn into rubber and he is suddenly more interested in finding a stale goldfish under the couch.

Best President’s Day ever.  I think Rhett made our forefathers proud yesterday.  Way to go, little dude!

Somehow after Rhett turned one, I realized I have nothing interesting to say anymore.

If you want to know about the old man and woman in the grocery store that nearly caused me to be late to my Super Bowl party because they were hitting on each other under the disguise of discussing suspenders that were made to look like yardsticks, then I may have something interesting to say after all. But, overall, it’s pretty quiet here.

Rhett isn’t walking yet. Still doing the cruising thing like a champion. But, he does dance. That’s right. Check it out. Please excuse the (mildly) inappropriate music.

We celebrated Rhett’s big day with a monkey-kinda party.  Here are a few pictures from the bash.  Thank you to all of you that came and made his day so special.

The food: chicken salad sandwiches, fruit kabobs and veggies (carrots, celery, squash and cucumber) and ranch dip

Water (and lemonade) for thirsty monkeys

A monkey cake

A banana cake for the monkey himself

Banana Pudding for the monkey friends

Handmade monkey candy for party favors

Our little family (sans Bagby)

Cake time

And presents
Happiest birthday, our little monkey.  We love you so much.  We cannot wait for your second year.

I can’t believe I just wrote that title.  One whole year.  It’s been the best of my life so far.  A year full of joy, sprinkled with a few challenges.  If there were a contest for the most random contents of your purse, I would win.  But, if there were a contest for the world’s best baby, Rhett would win.  Hands down.  Compared to the stories I have heard, and what I tried to prepare myself for, Rhett has been a breeze. We are incredibly grateful that God chose us to be his parents.

Here are a few updates:

• Weighs 19 lbs (5th percentile) and 30 inches tall (65th percentile).
• Sleeps about 12-13 hours at night, and takes 2 naps a day for about 2 hours each.
• Can stand for just about 1.5 seconds on his own.  We’re probably not too many days from those first steps.
• Started pointing this month.
• Celebrated his first Thanksgiving.  Lots of good mushy stuff for him to eat there.
• Got a tour of a fire station and got to sit in the driver’s seat of the fire truck.
• Got his first two teeth!  Hallelujah!  December 3 to be exact (for the first one), just 15 days before his first birthday.  A late bloomer maybe.
• Went to two Christmas tree lightings – one in Cedar Park, and one at the Capital.

And here are a few family photos:

Dear Rhett,

One year ago today, my life changed forever.  You made your grand entrance at 5:56 AM.  You were squealing like a baby bird, and I held you in my tired arms and told you that you were safe and that I loved you. I couldn’t believe that I was holding my son.  It was pretty surreal, almost numbing.  I had carried you in my belly all these months and wondered what you were going to look like and if you would have my nose or Daddy’s eyes.  And then, you arrived.  And it didn’t matter to me what you looked like, the only thing that mattered in that moment was that you were here and that you were finally in my arms.  I wish I could bottle that moment and experience it all over again, anytime I wanted.

The year has flown by and it’s hard to believe that there was a day that you weighed less than 7 lbs and you could lie on top of a diaper rag and not move when I laid you down.  There have been so many lessons and so many moments that I want to remember for the rest of my life.

Since you arrived, I have learned what it means to really put someone else first.  You took the front seat in our home (but not in our car) this year, Buddy.  There was never a decision that was made without you in mind.   It’s been a good lesson, coming from someone who has primarily thought of herself for a vast majority of her life.  All the sudden, the most important things in the world to me were less about me and more about making sure you felt safe and loved.

I’ve learned once again how to love deeply in spite of fear.  This lesson started when I got Bagby five years ago.  I picked her from a breeder and took her home, and within a few days, I remember thinking, “What have I done?”  I loved Bagby and I was overtaken by fear that something would happen to her.  And then your Daddy came along and the fear I had with Bagby paled in comparison to the thought of losing Daddy.  And then there’s you.  Rhett, I cannot bear the thought of living a single day without you.  Yet, because I am a child of God, and not bound by fear, I am able to love you fully and with freedom and great joy that I have been given this gift of a son.  I have learned to steward my time with you, as a gift and a pleasure and not a duty or responsibility.

There’s nothing quite like watching a baby develop from birth to one year.  There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t marvel at what a God we serve that you knit you together perfectly, from the inside out.  You are the most beautiful baby I have ever seen.  (I know a lot of parents say that, but I think we all know they don’t really mean it.)  Your personality is developing and with great anticipation, we wait until we’re able to understand what it is that you feel so strongly about – what you like, what you hate, what you think is funny, and what you think is silly.

Rhett, your first year has been the best year of my life so far.  It has been challenging, for sure, but the reward of having you in our family is far greater.  I hope more than anything that as you grow older, and you make good and bad decisions, and we get to congratulate you and discipline you, I hope that in your best memories and your worst memories, you always know how much I love you, and how much being your mother has brought me more joy than any other experience in my life.  You are my delight.  I love you so much, Rhett.

Love,
Momma