Things I Want to Remember: About Amos

23 days since my last post.  I would feel bad about it but I’ve been too busy fighting freaking IMPETIGO.  It started with a scratch on Margaret Hannah’s nose and made its way through all 3 big kids.  No bueno.

Guys!

It was yuck.

But I’m here now, and that’s what matters.  Here to dish out a little mush about Gregory Amos Hamilton Ferrell (Or Gregree AaaaaaMOS Hamten Perrah if you ask him) on this fine Wednesday.

He’s pretty much just growing up like WHOA!  His vocabulary has exploded, he likes to pretend, and he’s out of diapers  PAH-RAISE THE LORT!

He replaces his D’s with G’s so when he says “Don’t do that” it sounds like “Gon’t goo that” and it’s the cutest.  Or “Ungawear.”  He wears those now, instead of underware.  But backwards.  Always backwards.20160925_174801.jpg

He doesn’t like when you mock him, either.

When he wakes up or we get home from the daycare, he says “I think I need sumptin’ to eat.” EVERY.SINGLE.TIME he walks past the pantry or refrigerator.  I’d be hungry all the time too if I kept deciding I didn’t like things I was eating just a few days before.  Inside either of those places lives 3 or 4 things he will consume, and it’s frustrating FOR REAL.  But hey, he’s pooping and growing like normal. He’s cool.

For now.

He doesn’t like to watch TV.  Only to sit all over you.

I don’t mind.20161022_084722.jpg

In his classroom, they’re learning colors and days of the week.  He is constantly asking if things are green and singing “Se-ben days in a week,” while he dances around holding up five and two fingers.  The best! Some days he has to sit in timeout on the playground because he collects acorns like it’s his job and throws them at passers-by.  And bites his sister.20160928_104130.jpg

He sleeps on the bottom bunk right by himself with his 4 blankets.  It’s never ok for Margaret Hannah to be on the bed with him either.

We have chalk paint on the pantry doors and a chalk board at kid level in the playroom that he always asks if it’s ok to go chalkin’ on.  That’s code for “Mom, I’m gonna bang on the wall and see how much chalk dust I create.”

He really likes to eat pistachios and cashews.  Not chicken nuggets or a potatoes.  Just the expensive nuts.  And party food.  ALWAYS party food.20161031_085744.jpg

Now that he understands that ABC’s isn’t just a song, he likes to call out letters and spell things.  Mostly everything is spelled A.M.O.S. or P.E.B.O.S.4, but you have to drag out every letter when you say them.  You get a high five if you just went back and read those letters in his voice.

He killed it as John Hammond from Jurassic Park for Halloween, too.  He didn’t let that walking stick out of his sight, and I’ve only found a few packs of skittles hidden in his bed.received_10207645855129025.jpeg

He’s also funny.  And he knows it.  AND he likes to keep toys in his underwear.  He’s a keeper for sure.img_20161015_215029.jpg

We love this kid so so much.

 

 

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Happy Birthday Amos!!!

Amos Ferrell!  The 4th is strong with you, boy!

I absolutely can’t believe you are two now.  Dad and I managed to get Hank & MH to Nana & Pawpaw’s after spending the morning putting up a rope swing, run by Churches for a COB, and head to the hospital 30 minutes away in record time the day you were born.  I waddled into the ER, and in between contractions, I told the woman at the registration desk I didn’t have it in me to answer the same questions I’d already answered on my preadmission paperwork.  I knew you weren’t waiting long!

We got checked in and settled by 3:45, and by 6 pm, all 9 lbs 11 ounces of you was in my arms!  You had dark hair like Marnana, and Hank’s HUGE toes, and we couldn’t have loved you more.10325725_10100578262200162_2758551993743633285_n

Except we do!

So much more now than we did that day.  You are funny and loving and oh-so-independent.  You love all of your blankets (banks) and seem to always be able to find a pacifier (pal) in a pinch.

I don’t have the patience to list how bad your eating habits are, but just know that Dad and I have real concerns that one day you’re going to wake up as a nutrigrain bar or a cup of peach oatmeal.  You’ve got to grow out of this.  I’d even settle for chicken nuggets and goldfish if it meant a little more variety at dinner.

As much as I’d like for you to get along with your siblings, I call it a success if we can make it through an hour with no one screaming at or pinching one another.  Your dad assures me this is mild multiple child behavior.  Evidently, it gets more violent and loud the older you all get.

Some of my favorite things you do right now:

  • you sleep through the night in your own bed 5 out of 7 nights a week
  • when dad gets home, you ALWAYS say “HEY DAD!” and run to him
  • any word that ends in a T you pronounce as a k like hot=hock and sit=sick
  • you can say Hank’s name very clearly, but you call Marnana Marn-aaaa
  • your vocabulary has exploded in the last month, and you repeat things over and over and over until we either figure out what you’re saying or just give up
  • you jump on the trampoline like a lemur with your arms above your head
  • you’ve discovered Mighty Machines on Netflix and ask for it every time the TV comes on
  • whenever anyone starts talking about the chickens, you immediately want to tell them about chicken poop

You’re working really hard on mastering all the new emotions toddlers experience as best you can, and it’s mean I’ve built a nice little photo album of what I like to call #amosthrowsafit on Instagram.   I don’t blame you, though, buddy.  If I could throw my head back and fall out in the floor to change the outcome of something, I so would.

I know you’re going to make an amazing brother to Porter, as long as he doesn’t want any of your banks, and I know that as long as you let Margaret Hannah mother hen you like only she can, life should be pretty golden for you.

We can’t wait to celebrate all the things you love this weekend (cookies, chocmilk, garbage and dump trucks, and birthday cake) with great friends.  As long as your promise to keep all of your clothes on while people are at our house, and you ALWAYS give such good kisses when you think someone is leaving.

Gregory Amos Hamilton Ferrell, you’re the best 3rd kid we’ve got!

-Love, Mom

GAHF

Gregory Amos Hamilton Ferrell.  Born May 4, 2014 so fast it wasn’t even funny.  We woke up on a Sunday morning,had some french toast, Pat put up a swing for Hank, and I knew Amos was not far from joining the party.  Hank and Marnana spent about an hour living it up outside while I got everything together for them to go to my parents, and after we made a pit stop to to Churches for my last meal, we gave our hugs and kisses and took off towards the hospital.

I got checked in around 3:30, labored like the beast I am with an amazing L&D nurse, and then in walks Dr. who-is-not-my-doctor. He was in such a hurry and had no manners at all, and I had zero time to be worrying about his feelings.

All that to say an almost 10 pounder joined our pack about 3 hours after we got to the hospital. Without Dr-who-is-not-my-doctor’s help.

IMG_20140505_102102We were all in love!  He was the first kid to not have any jaundice issues, and I was pretty much letting the nurses know what the next step in my recovery was since I’m a pro at this.  Sitz baths are for sissy’s.  Just give me my steak dinner and discharge me already.IMG_20140627_083649This baby couldn’t have been more suited for life in our house.  He tolerates his sister and isn’t afraid to bite her the second she crosses the line.  He’s also ridiculously funny.  He knows a good joke when he hears it.IMG_20141210_140003He doesn’t like Santa.  But his second try this past year wasn’t as traumatic.  Baby steps.IMG_20150125_214957When Hank first started talking, he called his pacifier Pal.  It was too cute to change and we’ve called them that with all 3 so far.  I love a baby with a pacifier picture like nobody’s business, and I welcome self soothing with open arms.

This boy doesn’t get far without calling out for his Pal.  I was excited to find out about the perfect length straps too this time from madelinesbox.com because you don’t know frustration until you have to search blindly through a bed or crib to find a pacifier at 2 AM.  Plus, in the vein of keeping it real, they don’t stink when they get all slobbery.  Double bonus!IMG_20150311_153912He loves to swing, but only at JUST the right speed.  Get too fast and he loses his mind and breath.  It’s funny, but we honor his wishes with the yellow nylon rope tied to the back of the swing.  When you’re sitting down next to him, it’s the perfect length for the perfect height for him. #winning. IMG_20150426_162535And talk about a natural at the beach!  Like he even had a choice.  He’s the one you have to keep your eyes on the entire time.  Turn your gaze for two seconds to check out that old man in a speedo 3 umbrellas down and he’s chest deep in waves with a mouth full of sand.

He made his first trip when he was 5 weeks old, before I’d even been cleared from my Doctor.  He was inducted into our Harbor Pool Club at Sandpiper with so much ceremony that he pooped a little on the lounge chair.IMG_20150517_183142He’s also eaten more cake than the other 2 kids combined.  Since it’s ALWAYS someone’s birthday around here, he was eating cake at a solid 6 months old, I think.  Like,it was his first word and all!

I waited until Hank’s first birthday to give him cake or ice cream.  Marnana probably made it to about 9 months old, but not this kid.  He’s a connoisseur by trade.  Don’t give him that box mix!  He needs the cream cheese frosting from Cupcake’s Ya’ll like he needs to breathe. IMG_20150614_143008He hates waterslides.  He’s very expressive, this boy.  If you follow my private account on Instagram, then you’re familiar with #amosthrowsafit.  He’s going pro any day now.20151113_173106And Blanket.  Insert tons of heart eye emojis here!  He’s the only kid who’s ever wanted any kind of comfort besides the pacifier.  He’s got 3 exactly the same, and then another 3 that are the same material.  He calls them Banks and no one is getting sleep if he doesn’t have at least 2 crammed under his neck.  I’m totally gonna let him take one in his backpack to school if he needs too.

I know what it’s like to have a material that brings you immense comfort.  I sucked my thumb until I was *cough* old enough to stop, but I had one of my mother’s old, silky nightgowns that I had to rub together before it meant anything.  I still catch myself “silking” tags or curtains occasionally.

That’s not weird at all.20151115_100853This boy is also so brave.  This turtle lives in our woods so we see him a lot.  The older 2 are such chickens when we watch him or pick him up.  Amos is all like “Move out of the way and let me see how much of my hand I can stick inside this hole.”

He’ll be turning 2 right around the time #4 comes into our lives.  I’m slightly worried that his attachment to me might be an issue, but I have no doubts that he’ll adjust in record time, because that’s what you have to do in a big family.

People regularly ask me if we know what causes big families, and my first response wants to be “No, please tell me,” but I end up saying something along the lines of how much we wanted all these people in our lives.  We might not have known it when we first got married, but it’s SO EXACTLY what path we’re supposed to be on right now.

One of our favorite shows is Parenthood (OMG at the tears I had for the season finale!!!!!) and there’s a scene from one of the earlier seasons when Amber has a car accident after a night of partying.  Zeke takes her to see the damage her car is in and tells her how he dreamed about this big family and all his grandchildren while he was in Vietnam. He goes on to tell her how she absolutely cannot mess with his dream, and that scene speaks to me big time.

Pat and I have dreamed of a legacy we know that has the potential to change the world.  If that means more than 2 children existing to make it happen, then bring on all the babies. I mean really, who doesn’t fall in love when they smell their own newborn, or gotten to sit in a rocker feeling that heavy, sleepy weight their bodies find when they doze off?

I’ll gladly take the exploda-poops and endless nursing schedules if it means my offspring will make waves when they go into the world.  It’s good stuff, even if you don’t understand it.