Lost in the Shuffle

This is probably the lot of third babies everywhere, but this baby's impending arrival has truly been lost in the shuffle of packing, moving, purging, and -- of course -- day-to-day life with two little ones.

But he or she is doing its best to make its presence known, especially during its evening gymnastics sessions, with kicks and somersaults that routinely take my breath away, leave me feeling seasick and bruised, and mostly make us worry about just how active this baby will be once it makes its grand entrance!

Speaking of grand entrances, we were thrown a curveball at our last OB appointment, when I learned that I was measuring more than a week ahead of schedule. This, combined with our plan to induce labor a week early to ensure that I don't deliver on the Bay Bridge during rush hour, means that we'll probably be welcoming Baby Cecchin two weeks before we thought... around May 12 instead of May 28, our original due date. (I'm trying not to panic, really. Five weeks is enough time to get settled into a new house, right??)

Since our days are numbered, I snagged two more pregnancy snapshots after bathtime this week... here I am at 33 weeks, with my wriggly, wet "big babies."

Street Fight

Thirteen days until our move to suburbia, and I'm leaving the city in disgrace. After navigating and parking our extra-long beast of an SUV on the streets of San Francisco for more than three years, I just plowed right into the neighbor's car across the street.

The only bright spot? Joey wasn't there to witness the carnage. As it is, I might not hear the end of this until he leaves for college. He's mostly wowed (as am I) that our "super-strong" car sustained only a scuff. You should see the other guy.

Celebrity Sightings

I have a track record to maintain of publicly humiliating Tim when he abandons me to the bedlam of two kids for days at a time. Last year he made the mistake of sending me a photo of his antics in Montreal while on a bachelor party. This time, he's on what can only be loosely defined as a work trip, since it happens to be in Scottsdale, and he's taking in Spring Training games with John Cassanego and Kevin Harrington.

I'm not sure why SpongeBob and Dora the Explorer were on hand as well... but Tim made some new friends.





The difference between 2 year-olds and 4 year-olds? Upon seeing these pictures, Clara squealed, "Whoa!!!! Daddy fly on plane to see DORA????" While Joey took one appraising look at the second picture, and ruled, "That's not the real SpongeBob. That's just a guy in a costume. Why is Daddy talking to him?"

To (Another) Grandmother's House We Go

Apparently, we have a modus operandi when it comes to home buying... we keep it all in the family.

After almost ten years in our San Francisco home (which was Tim's grandmother's home), we're thrilled to announce that we're buying the home that belonged to my grandmother ("Ma") in Moraga. It's a ranch-style home on one level, with four bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a much bigger yard than we're used to, and we think it will be perfect for our soon-to-be family of five!



There's immense comfort in purchasing a house that is so linked to family history, that holds so many memories, and that resonates with other family members as well. We just can't believe we're doing it twice!

With a move date of April 9, we hope to be all settled in before the new baby comes on the scene in late May. Look for us in the 925 area code soon!

Little Leprechauns

The Raley clan celebrated St. Patrick's Day with a trip to a park in Moraga and a corned beef and cabbage feast that made us ask ourselves why we only enjoy this fare once per year!

Here's the four "big kids" decked out in their green...







The Baby Whisperer soothes Annie and Tessa with some carseat rocks and some patented cheek tickling.




And finally, some close-ups of our olive-skinned Italian brute, and our fair-skinned Irish lass :)

Joe Jokes

When out to dinner one evening, I made the mistake of reading one of the jokes on the kid's menu to Joey. Despite the fact that the joke fell flat (since he didn't know what a joke was, of course) he's been obsessed with learning this new communication skill. Here's how the last few days have progressed...

Out to dinner reading off menu:
Tim: Joey, what did the big potato say to the little potato?
Joey: What, Daddy?
Tim: Nothing, potatoes don't talk!
Joey: (dead silence with confused look on his face)
Tim: That was a joke.
Joey: What's a joke?

GETTING THE CONCEPT SCORE: ZERO out of 10

The next night at home:
Joey: Daddy, what did the big couch say to the little couch?
Tim: What, Joey?
Joey: .... .... .... um...That's a joke! HAHAHAHAHA!

GETTING THE CONCEPT SCORE: 3 out of 10


This morning:
Joey: Daddy, what did the big tree say to the little tree?
Tim: What, Joey?
Joey: Nothing, couches don't talk! HAHAHAHAHA!

GETTING THE CONCEPT SCORE: 6 out of 10

So, this evening, I thought we'd switch gears and go to knock-knock jokes. Relying on an old staple we learned in 5th grade from Mr. D'Angelo, our soccer coach. It took some work, but I think he now gets the concept (though he can't possibly understand the punchline).

This is how the learning process went:
Tim: Joey, I'm going to teach you knock-knock joke, are you ready?
Joey: Yes
Tim: Knock-knock
Joey: Who's there?
Tim: Bisquick
Joey: (absolutely erupts with laugher) HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!
Tim: (chuckling) hang on Joey, that's not the joke
Joey: Oh
Tim: let's try again....Knock, knock
Joey: Who's there.
Tim: Bisquick
Joey: Bisquick who
Tim: Bisquick, your pants are on fire!!!
Joey: (absolutely erupts with laugher) HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!

And, after several practice runs, I bring you the finished product...(I hope preschool teacher Miss Michelle is amused)

A Closer Look at the Buzz

The buzz cut is definitely growing on Joey. I overheard him tell Clara this morning, "Feel my fuzzy head. My hair is as short as a baby's hair!" Here, he models it in all its shorn glory.

G.I. Joe

Due to a slight miscommunication with the stylist at SuperCuts, Joey is now ready to enlist in the Armed Forces.

Eccentric Artist

Joey still maintains that he's going to be an artist when he grows up, so I figure it's best to continue to document his early efforts. Here, he experiments with one of his favorite media -- the DoodlePad -- and tackles two different animals.

If you couldn't tell that the first was a kangaroo (carrying a little joey, of course) and the second was a brontosaurus munching on grass, I'll assume you were too distracted by his "gloves," his "hat," and the fact that he was borrowing Clara's princess pad. Every artist is entitled to a few quirks!

Gumball Girl (and a Flashback to Jellybean Joe)

It wasn't until we were actually in the pediatric dentist waiting room yesterday for Clara's first checkup that I realized what a poor outfit choice we had made that morning.

Let's just say it didn't go unnoticed by either the dental hygienist or the dentist himself. You would think I would know better after being schooled over Joey's jellybean addiction at his first appointment.

Luckily, Gumball Girl cooperated beautifully, and her teeth are none the worse for an occasional ice cream or candy treat. Apparently, her penchant for fresh fruits and vegetables balances things out!

Joey's come a long way from his first squirrelly visit... I went back and retrieved these photos, even knowing that it would seriously depress me to see a) how much older he looks now (sniff), and b) how much blonder he used to be (double sniff).

Joey at 2.5

Joey at 4 (and seriously in need of a haircut and/or actual hairstyle)

Rain, Rain Go Away!

We took advantage of a break in the rain for a trip to Fort Funston, our go-to spot at least three days a week. It's in this topsy-turvy place that dog-loving San Franciscans never fail to ignore our cute children, but shower compliments on our dogs.

And finally, another rare shot of Pregnant Sara, courtesy of a certain 3 and a half foot baby stalker/ cameraman.

Sotto Voice

Apparently, Clara is training herself for a career in the dramatic arts. The little girl who used to be so pliant and accomodating is now perfecting passionate food refusals at the dinner table, craves the spotlight of time-outs, and loves to pout at her reflection in the mirror. But her most ridiculous performances don't come until bedtime, when she's in her crib with the lights out, trying to get our attention and score one more backrub, blanket, or book. Her tactic?

"Mommy!"

(quietly to herself) "louder"

"Mommy!!"

(sotto voice) "louder"

"MOMMY!!!!"

(one more stage whisper) "louder"

"MOMMY!!!!"

Look for her one-woman act at a venue near you.