Previous photos and blogs!

Please look for the previously posted photos on older blogs.  I finally figured out how to post them so that you can click on the photo and see them larger!  See the archived blogs for the older photos of Elliott and such!  Thanks!

More Baptism Photos

Uncle Pierce and Elliott

The fancy monogramed cake!

        Elliott finally asleep! 

Franklin Family 

(From Left to Right: Brodie, Tripp, Jean, Thea, G.G., Courtney, Spencer, Elliott, Babbie, Mary Quinn, Pop)

Wiegard Family

(From Left to Right: Ariel, Pierce, Pooh Ba, Ya Ya, Courtney, Spencer, Elliott, Max, Rebecca, Millie)

G. G. holding Elliott with kisses from Mary Quinn

Courtney, Michaux and Lauren

Elliott's baptism

Elliott became an official "child of God" this past weekend. Spence and I traveled up to Waynesboro to have Elliott baptised in the same church where I was baptised. She even donned the same christening gown that has been worn by most every member of my father's side of the family (including ol' Humes himself). Our home  church in Roanoke (Church of the Holy Spirit) does not do traditional baptisms but rather a more informal infant dedication.

We awoke in Waynesboro on Sunday to a gorgeous August day and dressed Elliott in a beautiful purple smocked outfit. We didn't dare dress her in the ancient, wilting but beautiful christening gown. (Thank you Babbie for sewing up the hundred tiny little holes the night before.) As you can guess from the previous blog entries that we had a distinct fear of poop ruining this sacred gown!

We made it to the church with a relatively happy child only to have her start fussing as soon as the first hymn was done. All of Elliott's immediate family members including the Wiegards (Ya-Ya, Pooh Ba, Pierce, his girlfriend Ariel, Max, Rebecca and cousin Millie), the Franklins (Pop, Babbie, Tripp, Jean, Brodie, Mary Quinn and sister-cousin Thea, and G.G.), Waynesboro "family" (Randy McGann, Sarah Leech, and Judge and Peggy Ricketts), Roanoke "family" (Stan and Michaux Chopski and Elliott's best friend, Millie) and finally Elliott's God Parents (Whit and Lauren Ellerman). She had quite the crowd and we packed our tiny Lutheran church.

I spent most of the beginning of church in the back singing the "ABC" song to try to get her to stop fussing. Then wonderful Pastor Pence summoned me (in front of the entire church) back into the sanctuary for the sermon which incidentally, happened to be all about me. How embarrassing. Pastor Pence recalled when I was baptised (he wasn't there then but he did confirm me at age 13.) and related the special day of my daughter's baptism to mine and how everything had come full-circle. It was actually quite inspiring and very thoughtful and it meant so much that Elliott got to become a child of God in the same exact spot as her mother.

Elliott was STILL fussing when we got to the official baptism part. Spence and I took a stripped-down naked child (still in her pampers) up to the baptismal font along with her God Parents. We renounced the Devil and promised to teach our baby the ten commandments and take her to church. We then placed our naked child into a large silver basin of holy water. She actually stopped crying for this until Pastor ceremonially poured water over her head three times. Oh she really screamed for that. Elliott was next wrapped in a towel and we raced to the back of the church to get her into the christening gown. What I didn't realize at the time was that there is a little slip that went under the gown that had to go on prior to the actual gown and both of them are really long and impossible to get over the head of a flailing, screaming infant.

Meanwhile as we are flustering and trying to dress Elliott, the music had stopped and the church is silent, awaiting our return with Elliott. Only the slip made it on before we raced back into the sanctuary to finish the ceremony. Elliott was anointed with oil by the sign of the cross, we lit a beautiful candle and WHEW, we were done! We took our applause as Pastor introduced Elliott to the congregation and wouldn't you believe it, Elliott FELL ASLEEP. After all that, she was exhausted.

We had a small, brief reception at the church before heading to my parent's garden for a lavish champagne brunch. It was tradition when my brother and I were baptised that my Franklin grandparents had a champagne brunch so naturally I followed suit. We had chicken salad, shrimp and grits, ham biscuits, tomato and goat cheese tarts, fruit salad and the most beautiful cake ever. (A mini wedding cake!) You had your choice of champagne or mimosas, lemonade or raspberry tea. Babbie had tables with pink linens and hydrangea and lily flower arrangements. Needless to say, it was amazing and so incredibly special and Elliott had no idea that all the fuss was about her.

But Mommy and Daddy will remember it always as the day Elliott entered God's family. We are forever blessed.

Talk about eating crow......

Mommy loves to dress me in silly outfits.

Elliott in her silly hat.

Mommy holding cousin Millie Wiegard.

Jean and Thea and Courtney and Elliott-loving the Bjourns.

Yes, yes yes, all we ever blog about are Elliott's bowel movements. But really, they seem to consume our lives these days.

I really have to be careful when I make fun of Spencer because karma has a funny way of smacking you back down to reality....

Yesterday evening was beautiful: Sunny and 80 degrees. Spencer came home from work at a decent hour and the poor neglected dogs were begging to be walked. Elliott really loves the Baby Bjourn so I strapped her snugly to my chest, we hooked all three dogs to their leashes and off we went. Incidentally I had to deliver a letter to the owner of a very nice restaurant down the street (Tony Pope's Bistro-which is fabulous if you haven't eaten there!) so we decided to kill two birds with one stone. I had Elliott happily on my chest and McKinley on leash with the important letter in the other hand. Spencer had a very excited Monti and Milla. (Our little 3-legged dog is the WORST on the leash. It is hard for him to walk at a nice pace so he tends to run as fast as he can to keep up.)

Right off the bat we exit our home to find a nice neighbor walking her very well-behaved Labrador. You would have thought our dogs had never seen another canine in their lives. Monti and Milla started howling, screaming, pulling, basically creating the noisiest scene ever. The lady didn't even look up but very quickly crossed the street to avoid our obviously rabid dogs. We finally get the dogs calmed down enough to start our walk. The poor Wiegard dogs have been badly neglected since Elliott's arrival and I hate to admit that we have been really bad about taking them out for long walks. So when they do finally get their leashes on, they try to run and sniff every smell they can. They basically take us for walks.

The next part of the walk was really uneventful. Elliott was all smiles in the Bjourn and the dogs were getting their exercise. We rounded the corner and Tony Pope's Bistro was in sight! (Keep in mind that I am still in my nice clothes that I had worn to work and in flip-flops.) Then I hear that all familiar rumble from my darling child and she pooped. Great, I thought, at least she'll feel better and I'll just change her when we get back. So we keep walking up to the restaurant when I feel something plop onto my naked foot. Yes, Elliott's BM had escaped her diaper and made it's way onto my shirt, down my pants and onto my sandals and bare feet. Mortified I realize that we are blocks from home, in the middle of public and I have Elliott's poop ALL OVER ME. Suddenly the front door to Tony Pope's opens and out walks Tony. I have the letter I need to give him in my hand (luckily the letter was spared my fate). Knowing this is my opportunity to hand deliver it, (I'm sure that my face is blood-red from embarrassment) I speak to Tony with my back turned away so hopefully he doesn't see that I am head-to-toe in feces. "Here Mr. Pope, is your letter," I say. "Sorry I can't stay to chat but we have to get back to the house!" Tony smiled and took the letter and quickly walked away.

"Oh my God, do you think he noticed?" I asked Spencer, my cheeks burning. Meanwhile, the dogs are still freaking out about being outside. There was nothing I could do except walk home 4 blocks with poop in my shoes and soaking through my clothes. Spencer never said a word but I know he was thinking...hahahaha, you deserve it after laughing so hard at me the other day. We finally made it home and I peeled Elliott out of the Bjourn. Miraculously the Bjourn was unscathed! I stripped Elliott down, wiped her off and placed her in the crib on a disposable pad while I started her bath. By the time I came back to the nursery she had pooped again, all over herself and the pad.

All we can do is laugh at these wonderful moments and know that one of these days we'll get our revenge when we tell these tales at her rehearsal dinner.

4-month doctor visit

Elliott and her namesake, Marion Arlene Leavitt (G.G.)

Strawberry Shortcake!

Elliott in the gazebo!

Elliott lounging by the pool at Babbie and Pop's house.

Elliott and her "aunt" Melinda Kacer.

Elliott had her 4-month visit with Dr. Craft today.  She woke up all smiles and giggles in the best mood and I just dreaded the four intramuscular vaccines that were looming ahead.  Elliott weighed in at 14 pounds and 5 ounces (60%) and 25.5 inches (90%).  So our girl is a long, lean machine!  Dr. Craft was very pleased with her weight gain and length.  He was impressed with her head control (take that tummy time!) and with her chattiness for her age.  But what had him most impressed was that she is sleeping 11 hours a night.  "That is quite atypical for a breast fed baby at this age...but atypical in a good way!" he told me.  I beamed with pride.  So all that eating well, staying hydrated, and crazy pumping has paid off!  And then poor Dr. Craft ruined everything when he flipped her over onto her stomach to see how she responded to tummy time. And she did as she always does: she screamed bloody murder.  

For those of you who don't know what tummy time is, let me explain:  Since the discovery of SIDS, it has been recommended that babies be put on their backs to sleep.  In order for them to not have flat skulls and to work on their neck muscles, the American Pediatrics Association recommends at least 15 minutes of tummy time a day for infants.  What they don't warn you about is how much babies actually LOATHE tummy time.  Most babies scream, cry, fuss and fester while on their stomachs.  Elliott is no exception.  In fact, I am the only person who is the bad guy and makes her do it.  Supposedly the trick is to pat their behinds really hard in an attempt to distract them.  (It doesn't work; Elliott still screams.)  I didn't have the heart to confess to Dr. C that I was really bad about making her do it.  Instead we make her sit up and we hold her on our hips to make her use her neck muscles.  

Then it was vaccine time.  While we waited for the nurse to come in with the four horse needles, Elliott fell asleep on my shoulders.  (Okay now I should take a cue from how the peds do it.  I think I should make my technicians give the vaccines to my veterinary patients and then I wouldn't be the bad guy.  That could really work for me.....)  She got the dreaded four needles in her quads and shrieked and it was horrible but I have to say that my heart always swells with love when I can comfort my terrified infant.  She was fine in about 10 minutes and we were on our way.  Next visit, 6-months and we are on to solids!  Wa hoo!

Does Elliott know her name?

Big Lips and a Buzz Cut!

Elliott and her God Mother Lauren Ellerman.  Lauren looks like a natural!

Elliott at the dinner party!

Learning to grab the toes!  Now they go in the mouth!

Home Grown Baby Onesie from Lance and Steph.

Literally from day one we have had many nicknames for our little precious.  Spencer began calling her "Bunky" in the hospital because she was so darn cute when they wheeled her in the bassinet.  The twins called their little brother, Pierce, Bunky when he was a baby so naturally Elliott was honored with the same.  However, the fun does not stop there.  We call her Bunkers, Babers, Ellers, Ellie Belly, Ellers Bellers, Bellers, "My Precious" (for you Lord of the Rings fans), and many many more.  And Big Lips and a Buzz Cut.  Rarely do we actually refer to our child by her legal name, Elliott.  Only when we are frustrated do we revert to the stereotypical parent response by calling her by first and middle names, "Elliott Marion!"  We are sure that she has no idea what her name is or what the heck we are talking about.  

And just when we thought we are completely original with the name Elliott, we were very mistaken.  At brunch this Sunday with Ya-Ya and Pooh-Ba I had to take a fussy Elliott to the car to nurse when I ran into another couple with a one-year old little girl.  Elliott has recently begun to recognize other babies so naturally we stopped to say hello.  I asked the couple what their little girl's name was.  "Elliott," they replied and I had to ask again.  "What did you say her name was?"  Elliott.  I was flabbergasted!  Really, there was another Elliott in Roanoke?  How could this be?  "My daughter is Elliott too!" I think I screamed at them.  They were just as shocked as I was.  I'm sure we both thought we were so cool and original in picking a boy's name for a girl.  "How do you spell it?" They asked me, immediately hating my guts for picking the same name.  "E-l-l-i-o-t-t." I responded.  "Oh well we spell it Ellet."  "Well nice to meet you." I said and turned away, waiting for them to throw stones at me.  But I was thinking to myself, people will never pronounce it correctly so I win!  Just kidding.  Really I don't care if people name their daughters Elliott but I stole it from a girl I knew in college and the sassy character on Scrubs.  

Babbie and Ya-Ya

Spence and I knew we were the luckiest new parents in the world when Spencer's mom, Pat offered to be our child care when I went back to part-time.  Not only would our infant daughter be able to stay in her home but Elliott would be under the careful watch of a dear family member.  Pat, affectionately called "Ya-Ya," has been fabulous with Elliott.  Ya-Ya drives down from Northern Virginia and rents an apartment in Roanoke so that she can spend three long days with her granddaughter in order to facilitate a part-time schedule for me.  She keeps a very detailed journal of Elliott's daily activities and adventures.  I love coming home from work and seeing everything that Elliott has done from fussing to eating to laughing and playing.  Both Elliott and I are so fortunate that we can meet up at lunch and spend even 45 minutes together during my work days.  And Ya-Ya is truly in her element as she cares for her granddaughter.  She is super excited every morning to see how much Elliott has grown and how interactive she has become.  Elliott's days are filled with developmental activities and by the time I arrive at home, she is exhausted and ready to wind down for the night.  This is an ideal situation for all Wiegard family members.

And when Ya-Ya has been ill or had to remain in Northern Virginia my wonderful mother, affectionately named "Babbie," has come down to Roanoke to our rescue.  Babbie has driven down on a moments notice to help us out and keep Elliott so that Spence and I didn't have to take off of work.  She drops everything to come to our aid and spend some time with her 4th granddaughter (My brother, Tripp and his wife, Jean, have three daughters!).  Babbie loves to take Elliott on long strolls so that she enjoy the outdoors and the neighborhood.  Babbie sings Elliott a large repertoire of songs to soothe her (including Elliott's favorite, the "ABC song."  And not the Jackson-5 song.).  Elliott loves to sit on Babbie's knees and belly laugh with her as she learns to prop herself up like a big girl.  

So are we spoiled?  Yes.  Are we exceptionally blessed?  Yep.  Do we have the best of all worlds?  You bet.  Do we thank God every day for wonderfully loving family members?  Of course.  Our hope is that Elliott will learn to appreciate the sacrifices that her two amazing grandmothers have made on her behalf as much as Spencer and I do.  We love you both.

He Said...

Sorry about the delay in posting my take on this incident.  Let me summarize it... as a great man once said, "I was awash in a sea of poo!"  Let me say that again, poo, poo, poo, poo...poop.  But I am getting ahead of myself, let me back-up a bit.   

I spent the whole day with my little buddy.  Courtney went to the grocery store.  I heard something brewing in my daughter's abdomen.  Elliott was smiling and laughing when all of the sudden, she became a red-faced gremlin. That is when I heard the floodgates open. 

She let loose, and I mean "loose". After the tempest in her diaper died down, she kicked her feet towards her head and giggled (little did I know this would spell my demise).  I picked up Elliott and headed to the pack 'n' play to change the now dirty diaper.  As I removed her diaper, to my surprise I had poo on my hands. The diaper really served no purpose whatsoever, its poo catching ability was defeated by Elliott's kicking legs.  As Elliott laughed and kicked in the pack 'n' play, she grabbed some poo with her left foot and spread it to my forearm and the walls of the pack 'n' play.  As I moved her away from the pooped area she kicked it onto my shoes, the floor and one of her stuffed toys.  That is about the time I realized my shorts were covered in poo from the initial incident...awesome! 

It was impromptu bath-time! I stripped down to my  and gave Elliott a bath.  Mind you, this was the first time I bathed her by myself.  After I figured out which bottle contained the soap, and which contained the baby shampoo, it was a piece of cake.   Clean, dry and smelling like bottled sunshine, Elliott was smiling as I lifted her from the bed of towels.  She promptly vomited the entire contents of her stomach on half-clothed Daddy.   Poop.

 

She said.....

Recently I ventured out for what seemed to be an uneventful trip to the grocery store.  Oddly, Spencer had begged me to take Elliott along with me.  What he doesn't seem to get is that life is leaps and bounds easier at the store without the car seat in the buggy, blocking your view or taking in the stroller and carrying a basket and pushing the stroller.  You are praying throughout the entire time that the baby doesn't A. Decide to have a massive poop or spit up all over herself in the middle of Ukropts or B. Decide to scream bloody murder and then everyone stares.  As of late I have been putting her in the Baby Bjourn on my chest and walking around.  The only problem with this is that she is finding her hands and likes to pull and grab items off the shelves.  So since Spencer was home and the baby was fed, I found this the perfect opportunity to dash to the store by myself without the hassle and fear.  

I was only gone 30 minutes I tell you, thirty minutes!  When I walked back into my house Spencer came straight up to me with his hands on his hips and staring daggers at me.  All he said was "I'm outta here.  I'm really outta here.  I'm leaving!"  "What?!" I cried, confused.  Leaving me?  Leaving us?  "I have had it with your daughter."  Now those of you with children or pets know that when they are bad they are always the other person's responsibility.  Clearly, now Elliott was all mine.  "What happened?" I inquired, knowing this had to be good.  What could a 16-week old possibly do to cause my husband to run for the hills.

"She was sitting on my lap playing and then all of a sudden she took a massive poop.  I'm talking massive.  So I get up to change her in the bassinet and the poop was everywhere.  It was like she wasn't even wearing a diaper."  Keep in mind that Spencer is really freaking out as he's telling me and really mad.  "So she soiled everything she was wearing and then kicked her feet into it so she literally kicked poop everywhere.  All over me, the bassinet, the walls!  And then I looked down!  I had poop all over my pants!"  At this point I am laughing so hard that I am tearing.  He continued, "So I strip down to my boxers upstairs, put Elliott in the tub and gave her a bath."  I am hysterical..."You are both naked at this point?!" I ask between laughs.  "It's not funny but yes.  So I put her on the changing table and put her in a sleeper and picked her up and she VOMITED ALL OVER ME!  I'm done.  I have to leave."  I think I almost peed a little I was laughing so hard.

But I didn't let him leave.  I refused to let our 4-month old defeat my 30-year old husband.  But my God it was hilarious.