for the birthday boy

Our little Ralphie is turning two on Wednesday, and I've got birthday on the brain. Planning for his day this year has been noticeably different from last year, since I'm less concerned about making things picture perfect and much more interested in making his eyes light up all day long. We don't have too much on tap for the day-- his favorite breakfast (bacon, oranges, and oatmeal with sprinkles,) a long hike to see the fall colors, and a family dinner in the evening.

Ryan and I are fairly certain that we could give him the toy vacuum of his dreams first thing in the morning and call it a day, but being that he's our only dear child who deserves the moon in our eyes (You want the moon, Ralphie? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down, etc.) we've of course bought a bit more than that. Just for fun, I put together a little list of the gifties we've gotten (and a few things that I wish I could get) for our sweet boy.

A wooden firetruck, complete with a ladder, steering wheel, and-- the very best part-- a tiny hose. | A sweet keepsake to tuck into his baby book. | A darling old-fashioned hat, to keep small ears warm, and to pass down to future siblings. | The toy vacuum of his dreams, so he can stop pretending with a plastic cart and a loud "eeehh" sound. | A new book, so we can practice our animal sounds and how to lift the paper flaps gennnntly. | A train set, because I couldn't resist. | His very own pair of fuzzy slippers, so he'll stop stealing mine every morning. | A wooden rocking horse for singing rousing renditions of Pony Boy on, after mom's knee gets too tired. | Beeswax birthday candles-- just two-- for making wishes.

at home | pictures from the past week

Spring is coming! Can you feel it? There's still a thick layer of snow on the ground here in Milwaukee, and this week's forecast is bleak-- I don't think we'll even reach 20 degrees in the next seven days-- but Spring is on its way, I just know it. There's still a smidge of sunlight left in the sky when Ryan comes home from work. Bunches of fresh asparagus have been $1.99 a pound at the grocery store for three weeks in a row. Gardening books have been ordered and are on their way to my front door right now, and I made a long list of flowers I hope to plant in the garden this summer. I'm taking great pleasure in filling the house up with tulips and finding pretty supplies to scrub things with, because when it comes to Spring cleaning, I'm on the same level with Danny Tanner. I can't help myself. I love Spring.




Last week the temps hit a glorious almost-50 degrees. It was pleasant enough to draw everyone in the neighborhood out of their houses to feel the warm sun on their face and shout things like, What a beautiful day! I wish it would last! Are you surviving the winter? across their yards and over their fences. And for the first time ever, I willingly let Ralph skip a nap just so we could walk to the park and jump in some puddles. We stayed long enough for him to get thoroughly soaked, and when his teeth started to chatter, I hauled him home through the slush while he screamed in protest the whole way. And then he had a nice warm bath while the sunlight poured through the window.




When Ryan and I went out for Valentine's Day last week, Ralph went to my sister's house to play with his older cousins, and he returned home with a new love for tools. He carries around his little tool box all day long, hammering on furniture and pretending to plug little nails into holes. He especially likes to press his screw driver into various screws around the house and make a loud errrrrrrrr sound. It's so fun to see his imagination start to take shape. Ryan and I are constantly looking at each other asking, Did you teach him that? And then we shrug, because nope, neither of us did. At least, not on purpose. He is a tiny sponge right now, and I love it.


Ryan turned 26 last Thursday. We didn't do a whole lot to celebrate, because I think I married the most easy-to-please man on the planet. All he asked for was a cheesecake, and I was happy to oblige. (I made this one, and it was definitely the easiest and tastiest I've ever made. Try it!) I also got him what turned out to be the manliest assortment of gifts ever-- a new baseball cap, a pack of beer, a beer brewing book, and a chainsaw. If I had all the money in the world I'd have him retire and then make him spend his days building things and brewing beer and maybe going fishing every once in a while. I'm pretty sure that's all he ever wants anyway, besides some slices of fresh bread with butter for supper every night. Ryan is just a good, goofy, happy dude and I sure do love having him around.

Also, here's the post I wrote on Ryan's birthday last year, just because it's a fun one.

ralph robert at 15 months

I think I've been a mother long enough now to understand that there's a certain sort of ebb and flow when it comes to a little baby's life. There are the hard times-- the phases of teething, or growth spurts, or nap strikes, or mysterious low-grade fevers and general fussiness. The times where life feels frustrating and confusing and the days are long for both momma and baby.

In between those tricky few weeks are these wonderful sweet spots. Happy days. Easy nights. Everything clicks.

And my friends, we are in the middle of a very long, very marvelous sweet spot. Right at this very moment, Ralph and his toddlerness are everything wonderful there is and ever could be in the world.

Ralph at 15 months has a tiny voice and a glorious lisp. He still can only say a handful of words very clearly, but he talks non-stop in a language all his own, and is surely telling me all sorts of very important things when he speaks, often with his pointer finger wagging in the air for emphasis. He takes two naps a day, and when I open the door to get him when he wakes up, he makes sure to hand me his blanket first. Only when the blanket is draped over my shoulder will he lift his arms to be picked up, and then he buries his head into it and pats my back with his chubby hand, happy to be awake again.

We're still nursing a few times a day-- always before bed or naps, and always first thing in the morning. And pretty much whenever he feels like it during the day. It's become a bit of a habit and source of comfort for him. His pediatrician suggested weaning him soon, before he gets pushy about it, but it's already too late for that. He loves it, and I love providing that little bit of comfort and warmth for him. We're in no rush.

Right now Ralph's favorite foods are blueberries, pineapple, pears, toast, and pretzels. He will not choke down an avocado if you paid him in a billion packs of fruit snacks. His favorite toys are not toys, but kitchen utensils. My salad spinner and tea kettle are getting a lot of action these days, and I usually have to wash my pots and pans again before using them because they've been dragged around the house all day long.

Ralph loves episodes of Baby Einstein and Thomas and Friends, but only during the music parts. He leaves a trail of cheerios wherever he goes. He can fold his hands to pray, and tries to say thank you ("ttthhh!") Some of his favorite songs are I am Jesus' Little Lamb, La La Lu from Lady and the Tramp, and the good morning song I sing when he wakes up, the one I remember my Grandma singing to me. I'm also pretty sure he loves every Katy Perry song he's ever heard.

He's a funny little guy, and has perfected a loud fake laugh. If your attention is not completely focused on him when he's performing that fake laugh, he'll keep laughing and get his face as close to yours as possible until you acknowledge it. He loves music and will sing to himself all day long. I've seen him pretending to play a horn with both an empty cardboard tube and my watering can. He loves to kick balls and stack things and run around the dining room table. He loves trains and his bath and when Ryan comes home from work. Changing his diaper is like wrestling a piglet. His fluffy hair smells like honey and curls up at the slightest bit of moisture.

He is such a little buddy. I want him to stay this way forever. He won't, of course, which is why I have to write it all down now.

ralph turns one

We celebrated Ralph's first birthday on Tuesday with a banana muffin, brunch at Blue's Egg, a trip to the zoo, presents, two baths, cake, and a little birthday dinner with my sister and her family. Ralph got so many sweet gifts and cards and phone calls and messages. There was a lot of love going on the whole day long. Ralph took it all in very seriously and curiously, like he knew something was up, and by the end of the day we were all wiped out. Birthdays can take the tuck out of you, that's for sure.

If you're interested in seeing Ralph destroy his cake and wave to some fishies at the zoo, I made a little video of the day. It took me nearly two nights to make, and I almost gave up, but now that I have the hang of how to do it, I might make 14,939 more.

Happy birthday to you, little Ralphie. We love you so!

ralph's first story

Ralph Robert Markgraf was born at 5:36 on a Monday morning.

The night before, Ryan and I were watching Sunday night football and eating a pizza. We had waited all weekend for a baby to show. We nested, we went out for lunch, we cleaned, we went to church, we took a nap, and we were convinced a baby was never going to show up, ever. It was somewhere after my third slice of pizza when pop! With a strong kicking sort of feeling, my water broke right there on the couch. I stood up, waddled up the stairs, saying something to Ryan about my water breaking? and made it to the bathroom. With shaking hands I called the doctor, who told us to head to the hospital as soon as we could. I had my first contraction in the car.

For some reason it took three different nurses to determine that I was actually in labor. By the time we made it into the delivery room, we were at least two hours into the process. Ryan turned on the TV (more football) and I was perched on a bed in a hospital gown, texting my parents and sisters things like this ain't so bad. 

Two hours later the TV was off, and there was nothing but the sound of beeps and deep breaths. Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths.

Right around the time I was sure I needed to vomit or get an epidural, something shifted and changed, and I knew I needed to push. It was 2am. Bed sheets were changed, lights were adjusted, there was a lot of bustling about, and I thought, this is it!

Whenever I pictured this part of Ralph's birth in my head, I saw it much like how TV and the movies portray a delivery. Bright lights, lots of shouting, lots of coaching and cheering. When it actually happened, the lights were dim, there wasn't much noise coming from me other than breathing and the occasional, "ice chips, please." I didn't have energy to waste on anything else. My doctor showed up halfway through the pushing, and instead of giving any sort of direction, he patiently sat at the foot of the bed with his arms and legs crossed, like he was watching a football game. It was all up to me, and I knew it.

Three and a half exhausting hours later, it was over. The first sound I ever heard from my baby was a tiny, "Achoo!" The doctor said, "He sneezed!" And I said, "He sneezed! Oh Ralphie!" And then he was placed in my arms, red and wrinkly and quiet, with dark eyes looking up at me. The most beautiful baby boy I had ever seen.

A little while later, my nurse told me I could shower if I felt like it. I didn't, really, but thought I might be glad to get that part over with. I hoisted myself off the bed and shuffled into the bathroom just off the delivery room. As soon as I stepped into the shower I knew it was a bad idea. The walls turned black and closed in around my eyes. Everything was swirling. I was about to faint, and I called out to Ryan. But instead of Ryan, the nurse's arms took hold of me, and somehow managed to get me out of the shower and in a seated position. After a minute or two, I had pulled myself together. A few nurses got me into some dry blankets and a wheel chair, and wheeled me back into the room. I turned to Ryan, who was walking around with Ralph in his arms, and said, "I almost fainted. Didn't you hear me calling you?" He looked back at me with stars in his eyes and with a sigh, said, "Hm?" completely oblivious to what had just happened not even 10 feet away.

That was the moment I knew everything had changed. It wasn't just the two of us anymore. It was Ryan and me, with this tiny little wonder named Ralph in the middle. That was the moment I realized we had just become a family. Nothing on earth has been quite so grand and terrifying and wonderful as that feeling ever since.

sunshine

We went out last night in search of a nice open space for Ralphie to explore. Now that he's walking full-time, he's really able to get around quickly. And there are only so many laps around the dining room table he can make before you start to feel sorry for the kid. So as soon as Ryan got home from work, we put on our shoes and headed to the car. I grabbed the camera on the way out because Ralph just happened to be looking pretty cute and put-together which, by that time of day, is rare. These days we're lucky if he's still wearing pants past 3pm.

Our goal was some sort of playground to let him toddle around, but we missed our turn and ended up pulling onto a side street that had a golf course and a walking trail and the prettiest sunshiney light I think I've ever seen. We walked the trail and let Ralph navigate his way through the tall grass. Grasshoppers were caught, doggies were waved at, and countless amounts of black walnuts were chucked into the field, over and over, just to hear the laugh of the little boy who thought it was hilarious. It was such a happy moment, and I snap snap snapped away, so glad to have the memories caught on camera. Thank goodness I grabbed it, eh?