The Latest

He now stands in his crib. A new day has come.

Mom! You are so mean! Don't take pictures of me! Get me out of bed! (Funny thing is, when I try to take his picture when he's crying, he starts to smile. He knows what the camera's for! Half smile, 'no wait I'm crying', half smile, 'no wait I'm crying'...)

How can you not chuckle at that sad face...

Every single morning he has to take a jaunt behind the glider, like it's his little cave.
Every single morning.

A little peek into a Candice cupboard. Well now you know where our grocery money went!
And, uh, it went on baby's face.

Here's a pic of him wearing some of his daddy's baby clothes. Adorable.

Well it's been a while since our last update-on-life post. We've been concerned with welcome mats and sharing our feelings here. And the pending ruin of our world. So wow, let me get this thing Up To Date.

Last you heard Trent was scooting. That didn't last long. Crawling started at the ripe age of 7 months and along with that came the pulling-himself-up-on-everything stage. He loves to be standing, all the time. He especially loves to pull on my apron strings, well, if I had an apron on. I just mean, he is constantly down at my feet pulling himself up to a standing position by holding on to my legs. Sometimes accompanied by a pinch of his fingers. Or was that a bite? He does have two bottom teeth now. Coming in real strong. But luckily, no biting yet. Poor Tim gets the pull of the leg hairs. Ouch!

Trent must think the dishes are my 'toys', because his toys just aren't good enough anymore. So he comes over to me and wants to play with my toys, a.k.a. the dishwasher. Is this a stage all babies go through? I think so. We'll see if he still wants to help with the dishes in five years!


I am continuing to cook! It either wasn't a phase, or the phase is not ending quite yet. Last night it was Fresh Peach Pie. Grandma Maw's famous recipe. Tim exlaimed, "This is the best pie I have ever had in my life!"

What? Did he really just say that?!? Tim, unexpectedly, is a very tough critic. I will be living off that one for at LEAST a week. Tomorrow I aspire to Butternut Squash Bisque. Maybe I'll throw a little apple in there. Yikes! What's happened to me. DOMESTICATED. Well, domesticated and LOVin' it.

I feel awkward right now. Do I even know how to blog?

Anyway, something important. Tim's little sister Steph and her husband Aaron just brought a beautiful new boy into the world, I'm talkin' just a few hours ago. Baby Treanor, name yet to be determined, is fresh from heaven. Steph recently realized she was barely pregnant with this baby when Trent was born. Do you think Trent gave a passing high five to Baby Treanor on his way out of heaven? "See ya buddy! See ya in nine months!"

And uh, do you think Trent is related to Tim from this picture? Woah!

I have been fascinated lately as I ponder on the experiences I read in a recent book about pre-birth experiences. Similar to near-death experiences but this time about experiences people have had with the spirits of their unborn children. Sacred experiences, but like with NDEs, this book is making the case to the world that there is a pre-mortal existence, that our spirits did not spontaneously form as our bodies breathed air, that we come from the presence of our Father, and that our Spirit is eternal. There is much to be said about this, but for lack of possibly boring you, I digress.

What more can I say? Does every wife wonder if the football season is ever going to end and that then they can have their husband back? Just to find that when the football season ends we are right in the thick of college basketball and the up-and-coming March Madness, that research and pondering must be done, and that brackets must be filled out? Anyway, fall is a time for hoodies. I like that.

Have you ever seen Fever Pitch? "You go to the Red Sox training camp? So the team actually asks you for your opinion?" hehe

And now, since I never ever posted these FIRSTS of Trent's, I will do it now, if only for the pleasure I get of knowing I did not neglect them, that I can consider it done on my To Do list, that my son has been properly displayed for these firsts.

Ha. Properly displayed? Perhaps he's been exploited at this point.

Like my friend Brittany said, Sorry future children. We know and accept that we WILL be taking a tenth of the pictures of you that we have of Trent. A 'SORRY' reserved for that future day you will accuse us of having favorites.

Hey! Being the first born, and also being married to a first born, we tell you now. The oldest has to pave the way! Break in the parents! We're the ones that get messed up on before parents figure things out! We deserve it. (Luckily both Tim and I did get great parents, that didn't really mess up. But, hey, still rough to be the first!)

FIRST MUSH (at 4 1/2 months)

What are you doing with that spoon daddy?

What's this?

A proud first mush feeding survivor.

FIRST HAIRCUT (at 2 1/2 months!)

The BEFORE the first haircut picture. Bib on, front and back, mits on.

Seriously?

Oh yeah, and we almost forgot to tell you.

We are SERIOUSLY SO BLESSED. And wait, YOU are SERIOUSLY so blessed too?!

Can't we all just be seriously so blessed?

hahaha

seriouslysoblessed.blogspot.com

The This is to be your New Life Email

Trent at six months.

Tim winning the drill down, after several years of support.

Below is part of an email we sent out to those who aren't part of our blog world, a little on my thoughts of motherhood.

I have a dear friend that is about to have a baby, and she recently emailed me saying how excited she was to blog and cook and be at home taking care of her baby. She said, " I can just see myself a few months from now at home with a baby, cooking and blogging. Is that to be my new life?" Well that was a fun question. So I decided to answer it. No, oh no, I'm not an expert. But here is a little of how it has been for us.

This is to be your new life:

You will be glad when you have had a shower that day. You will wonder if the laundry is ever going to end and you will want more onesies and burp cloths so that you can do it less often. You will be thankful that your front-loading washer and dryer allow you to let the stains sit on the clothes for a few days and that they still come out. You will love the smell of Dreft laundry detergent for babies and start to wash your own garments in it because you want to feel like you are next to your baby at all times. You will love Oxi-clean because it means you don't have to put stain stick on all of the stains. You will have 300 emails in your inbox that you haven't responded to, instead of ten. And when you finally start to get caught up the number will grow again. You will feel guilty because of this. But not guilty enough to spend more time emailing than with your baby. You will consider giving up on having everything in its place, and that is BIG since it's an obsession here in Candice land. You will start cooking, but not in the beginning. If you're like me, you will read Baby Wise fifteen times, and breastfeeding books ten times each. And when your baby takes a nap you will miss him, and then when you hear him wake up you will literally jump up in the air out of your chair, giddy and so excited like a schoolgirl. (I seriously do that.) You will fight with your spouse over who gets to "rescue" him from his crib. You will love it.

You will also be so thankful there are naptimes, but still wonder how two hours passed without "getting anything done".You will find yourself forced to redefine the meaning of "getting something done." You will say, "You are SO CUTE!" about your baby, in astonishment, fifteen times a day. You will make up VERY silly songs, and your life will be a baby musical. You will find that the saying, 'Loving so much it hurts' is not cliche anymore. It is real. You will realize there is the before and after. That my dad was right when he told me that life didn't really start until you had a child.

You will take a katrillion pictures and wish you could capture every moment, perfectly. You will find yourself redefining your socializing priorities. You will think more about the world, and the way you see the world will change, because the world will be your child's future, in every single aspect. You will become like your mother that never liked violent movies or books and you thought she was just a sissy. Oh no, you are just like that now. You will now be the steward of the Ultimate Alarm Clock. You will hear your child from a mile away amongst thirty kids. You feel almost okay when your child gets a little hurt because that means you can be their hero and comfort them. You will find that all of your friends were right when they told you that you could never have imagined being THAT tired. You will have the ultimate #1 fan, and a smile from your baby will fix any care in the world.

And oh, there is so much more that is to be your new life.

There's my two cents. Is two cents worth very much? Eh...who knows?

And surely I forgot many things, especially in my only eight months of experience. Feel free to contribute.

Tim? Doing amazingly at Fidelity Investments. Loving it. Working lots of overtime right now. You can imagine why. Loving being a daddy.

Me? Finding that I actually might have some new hobbies in my old age, like loving to blog, make digital photobooks, and write. Returning to the days of being up on my current events. And well...you know, living the new life.

And Trent? Well you know a new mother could go on and on. We'll just say that he never thought he was a baby, was crawling at seven months, is standing up on all the furniture and trying to walk, and is constantly pulling at my apron strings. Oh it is good to be loved. Trent is constantly smiling. A delight. Our utter delight. He lets me kiss his chubby cheek pretty much constantly. And about getting something done? Well. I guess getting my son taken care of is the best 'something done' there could be.

We bought our condo, are still unpacking, and I predict in three years I will be making that comment to Tim from the movie 'The Incredibles' when the wife calls the hubby at work three years after the move and announces the last box is finally unpacked. ha!

Mrs. Incredible: I'm calling to celebrate a momentous occasion. We are now *officially* moved in.
Mr. Incredible: That's great, honey. And the last three years don't count because...
Mrs.: Because I finally unpacked the last box. Now it's official! Ha ha ha!

Man we feel blessed. Life is tough. The world is scary. But we feel SO surrounded by the 'Incredibles' in our life, and that includes each of you. If only we could all be always together, omnipresent, in every stage of our lives, in every place, to experience each other more fully. Thank you for being a part of it. And we still want you to be. And that is why we send you this letter.

With LOVE, The Andrus'

Hmmmm...

Should we share our political opinions on our blogs? I realize I could be at risk for doing such.

I must share this. I really like it. Come on people!

Some of you may be of differing opinions. We will still love you.

...

I've lived in a Socialistic country. LIVED. Not visited. I saw what used to be the richest country in South America in ruins now as an impoverished third world because of what socialistic views did to it. First hand. Down to the individual, stripped of pride citizens, living in poverty. I could go on and on about what I saw happen to the people, and why I pray that won't happen to our people. And this is where I see Obama pointing. And it terrifies me.The second I stepped off the plane in Florida on my return home from Venezuela, I knelt down and kissed the ground.

I've also been on the Senate floor with both McCain and Obama. And while I did not care for McCain but did think Obama would be fun to hang out with, with all that charisma going for him, it does not mean that the ISSUES at hand are not what we should be focusing on.

I consider it our civic duty to get informed about the issues and candidates, and every one must do their own research and decide for themselves. I just see Obama as having a socialistic agenda and personally cannot support that.

I want to keep kissing the ground.

Should I make that post?

I am simply giving up. Simply giving up on the pile on the table and the emails in the inbox that make my head spin. I don't know where to start. I didn't know five hours ago, I don't know now. So...

Should I do it? Should I make that post? Ya know, the one that maybe no one else wants to read but the one that all of a sudden you feel like you should write?

I know this doesn't sound like me, cause most of you don't know me as a shy person lacking something to say, but I am actually a pretty private person. I don't share a lot of things about my feelings, the deep ones. I have this thing about feeling inadequate to express, so I don't do it. I don't even want to start to explain because I feel like I won't even get near what I am actually trying to explain. So I give up. I keep it inside. Kind of like how I feel about my mission, and how I feel about my husband.

The men in my life...

My daddy is up in the mountains right now. He is trying to find his Elk. He's all by himself. Or at least he was for part of it. He's never been a man that is afraid of things, not often anyway. I love my daddy. My daddy is WISE. My daddy is the one that came to save me from the bad guys in my dreams. My daddy is my superhero. My daddy knows a lot. He tells me wise things. He supports me. And he loves my son.

My brother Curt is my idol. I want to be more like Curt. So much more! Curt is happy. Curt is grateful. Curt is founded in righteousness and doesn't cop out when he's up against what he really wants and what God wants. Curt is fun and loving and makes everyone feel like they are the most important person in the world. I love my brother Curt. I can't imagine my life without my best friend Curt.

I am eternally grateful to my father-in-law. You see, without Bret my deepest wish and desire of eternity would not be coming true. Deepest. I won't bare all here. Tim would not be who he is without his father Bret. Bret, along with Joyce, raised my husband. He taught more with example than words. Way more. Bret showed Tim how to love and honor women. My words are dammed up. I feel The world-contrived English language is handicapping. He showed Tim the way to be a Super Man. We gave Trent his name, Reed.

Should I try to write about Trent? Nope. Can't do it.

Tim. Now here's where it gets scary. Should I try to put my feelings into words? I guess I will. Just for a minute.

Tim. A gem. Ya know, the gem you don't always notice, the one you can't always see. Willing to sit in the background while my selfish natural man takes up all the spotlight. The one that absolutely does not fight back even when my stupid self is trying to pick a fight. The man that calls me on the carpet when I am in the wrong, that doesn't let me get away with stupid stuff. A man without guile. A man stripped of selfishness. A man more in control of his natural man than any other person I have ever met. An amazing man. I can't believe he is mine. Since I'm failing in my quest to express, I won't go on.

Ya know, here is this man, this man that loved me from the beginning. I was a confused girl that had just come out of a weird and confusing situation. I was emotionally and mentally out of whack and that was the time Tim came in to my life. Up, down, up, down, around. And Tim waited for me. He made me dinner. He helped me move. He bought me DVDs to save my photos. And I stabilized. And in the end he won...I won. And I think the way he handled my rough situation shows a lot about who he is. He wouldn't get walked on, but he let me stabilize.

It feels so good to be loved, and Tim has always loved me so much. I don't get it! I just don't. I don't know how he survived me. I am thankful for my husband. And this is the part where I stop. I won't tell you about how I think I am absolutely the luckiest woman of everything, everywhere.

Now Tim is going to come home from work and think, "How can you say all those things and go on being so bad at showing them?" Dang I hate my weaknesses. I want to be so much better.

Tim wants to be Timothy. He won't ever really force it, but he does, he wants to be Timothy, not Tim. And since I call him honey and stuff, I don't really get the chance to give him his wish. Maybe ya'll can.

I see people writing their blog posts to their spouses and family members, honoring them and why they love them so much. So this is my attempt to do it a little for the men in my life, even though this isn't really like me. Men's Day in September.

Lest you dare not look on, please do. Pictured below are me and the men in my life, my boys.

Trent Time...Solo

By the way, putting this kid's clothes on should be an Olympic Sport. If I happen to hold his sleeve open at the same time his body twists and he jets his elbow straight and turns at the right angle and it goes in, TEN POINTS FOR ME! Wow.

He's now crawling and he's trying to walk. I don't think Trent has ever thought he was a baby. :)

It's High Time

Okay. It's high time I post these family photos.

My amazing friend Melissa, gone pro, came down from Boise and took them for us. Melissa and I have done some serious cublicle time together, but on the other end of that...Paris! I admire Melissa so much. Her carefree, loving personality and wonderful sense of humor. She is one of those people that makes everyone feel like they are made of gold. I love Melissa. And look at this amazing talent!!

So glad you tapped into your hidden photo talent genes my friend! Can't thank you enough for capturing this precious time in our lives of welcoming Trent into our family. You rock.

Check her out. www.melissaniu.com

Here's a sampler of the family portion of our photo shoot. Surely there will be more to come. Surely.