babydoll foster care

Josephine is with her Mama Jo and Grandfrog in Teague this weekend while Sean's at my brother's bachelor party/getaway thing, so I'm uploading a video of Clement rocking her dolls.  He has made a point of crawling over there to do this SEVERAL times today.

Josephine,
We're all looking forward to you coming back home!
Hope you're having fun!
love,
Mom, Clement, Five Guys, Briana, Bear, Six, and Base California

3 photos, 2 videos, 1 cute kid

Clement turned one nearly a month ago.  I need to do a real post about that and where things stand with Mr. Enigma, but meanwhile, here's some cuteness:

A video of him going pbpbpbpb.  (what you've all been waiting for, I'm sure.)

And a little water table action...

the fan helps keep off mosquitoes.
It was free; I found it by a dumpster.  It sounds like a small airplane.
...and when combined with his getup and our laundry on the line,
there's really no escaping how white trash things get around here.

but hey, you've gotta do what you've gotta do.
no one ever told me I had to be classy about it.

There's a video clip of him at the water table here.

I promise to write about what's really been happening soon.  Eventually.

In Memory of Sir Wilbur, Hedgehog Extraordinaire

So small, and yet the biggest heart and show stealer I ever did meet.

Wilbur was about one when I adopted him from a girl in Dallas who no longer wanted a hedgehog.   I'm not sure what his first year looked like, but in the five plus years we owned him, he accomplished a lot. 

He survived countless baths.  According to him, just barely.

He did some heavy reading...

humored entirely too much snuggling (if you didn't mind the prickles and didn't move too much!)...

and even had a brief foray into fussball. 

When he wasn't busy hiding...

...he was the sole star of this blog for months, helping us prepare for Josephine's arrival.

Wilbur compared to the avocado-sized baby

Wilbur inspecting the hedgehog onesie

Wilbur being outsized by a rutabaga baby 

He was simply the perfect addition to our little family,

and no matter how persnickety Sean was about him, even they had their own special bond.

When Josephine arrived, Wilbur excelled in his role of Fascinating Big Brother.

He sat for countless portraits...

So photogenic!

... while entertaining other less cooperative portrait-sitters at the same time.

My parents took good care of him while we were in New York; I missed him and was happy to have him home with us again when we got back to Austin.  

I noticed over the last week or so that Wilbur seemed increasingly frail; he wasn't as heavy or solid feeling in my hands.  I hadn't been hearing his wheel, and saw that his legs were developing a tendency to splay to the side.  His breathing was more labored when I "wrestled" with him, and even while he rested, so I wrestled less and let him rest more.  Most recently, I was just lifting him carefully to look him over, say sweet things to him, and make sure everything seemed okay.  (Now I wish I'd taken the time to just cuddle him).  His eyes looked drawn and tired-- I even mentioned that to Sean the other night.  But otherwise, he seemed healthy (his skin, quills, fur, feet, habits) so I just told myself he was getting old... "This is what an elderly hedgehog looks like-- this is how they act."  I didn't know the end was SO near.  I wasn't ready.  (It's hard to be ready for death).  It is so final, so sad. 

Last night when I found him, I'd gone upstairs to feed him; I was in the middle of chastising him for not eating all his food when I noticed he was lying under his wheel without any labored breathing at all.  I can't quite get over the fact that I never got to feed him.  I keep wanting to go upstairs and feed my hedgehog, but there isn't one there to feed.

I want to hear the wheel rattle, the scuffles of all his activity, his food dish bumping into the tank wall... but all is quiet.  At one point last night, a residual bubble surfaced from his water bottle, causing that metallic ball bearing click, and I started crying all over again.

I have a Wilbur-shaped hole in my heart that feels so empty.

It isn't hard to see why.

Sir Wilbur lived a good, comfortable, healthy, strong life for 6 plus years.  He was the source of a lot of laughter, curiosity, and [prickly] warm fuzzies.
He is missed and will continue to be.

Above all, I'm grateful for the time we shared.

the swimmer and the spectator

Some pics from Josephine's swim lessons this summer...

(Mychel came all the way from CA to photobomb this photo!! :-)  Hooray!!  Loved seeing her.)

Still much work to be done, but having a fantastic swim teacher for 8 evenings definitely sets the foundation for us to continue working with her the rest of the summer.  She worked well with the teacher and seems on board with practicing all the skills her teacher told her were important.  It's definitely a priority for the rest of the summer.

We did swim with Clement some, too, while she was doing her lessons; he's a fairly natural waterbug.

clement's party

Our family came down to Austin to help Clement celebrate one year of sitting around and being doted upon. 

He mostly celebrated by sitting around and being doted upon.

There was also a bit of playing with some new toys...

... and a few close calls as his big sister helpfully unwrapped and demonstrated each toy with vigor.

The water table was initially met with a bit of trepidation.

You see, Clement does not rush into playing.  

It is his solemn duty to first consider the essence of an object, inside and out...

... he weighs heavily the likely implications of the mere existence of said object...

...before issuing a tentative philosophical statement on his deep, abiding opinions.

To rush into playing would be so... so... childish.  

Anyway, he got the hang of it eventually.

And then he excelled.

This is how you do it, Uncle Jason.

No, Clement, THIS is how you do it.  This is how you fill a water gun...

...and beat Josephine at a duel.  This is what you really need to know.

Happy Birthday, sweet boy!!