We were invited back to the neighbor's house to play today! Yay! I think perhaps it was only because I cook and she doesn't, and I offered to bring a breakfast casserole and homemade pumpkin muffins with homemade cream cheese icing (I had many things to apologize for, you know!) but we were invited back nonetheless. Other than the boys borrowing her son's underwear to wear overtop of their pullups (sorry about that!) and becoming crying blithering messes when it was time to come home for naps, we didn't trash her house! Hurray for us! Added bonus: since we weren't home, they didn't trash my house today either! Double hurray!
Edited to add: I KNEW there was something I was forgetting, and when I got up to use the bathroom, it returned to me! So MAYBE the boys put a bunch of tissues in the neighbor's downstairs toilet and clogged it up, but it didn't overflow and I offered to do the plunging, so I don't think it made us look TOO bad; plus her kids were in on the tissue stuffing, so alls well that ends well!
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Man parts explained
I missed this tonight, since I was putting Livi to bed, but when I returned to help Ryan get the boys dressed in their pj's, he said "Well, Jackson asked me a really good question a few minutes ago."
Intrigued, I asked "Well, what was that?"
Ryan responded with a sheepish yet mischievous look on his face, "He grabbed himself down there and asked 'Dad, why do we have THESE,' pulling on his testicles."
Me: "And what did you tell him?"
"I asked him why he had a nose, and he said 'No, Dad, I said why do we have THESE.' "
Obviously he was not going to be dissuaded, so Ryan explained that they are called testicles. And went on to say that boys have them, but girls do not. Jackson's next question: "Do cows have testicles?"
Intrigued, I asked "Well, what was that?"
Ryan responded with a sheepish yet mischievous look on his face, "He grabbed himself down there and asked 'Dad, why do we have THESE,' pulling on his testicles."
Me: "And what did you tell him?"
"I asked him why he had a nose, and he said 'No, Dad, I said why do we have THESE.' "
Obviously he was not going to be dissuaded, so Ryan explained that they are called testicles. And went on to say that boys have them, but girls do not. Jackson's next question: "Do cows have testicles?"
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Conversations with Sam
It has been more and more fun to listen to Sammy talk, and actually "discuss" things with him, as much as you can discuss anything with a two year old! Today I had to move him back to his old room for his nap, and after he woke up and came downstairs, he was having a snack with baby sister and telling me all about the "scratchy monster" in his "woom." Actually, in his cwoset. But he told the scratchy monster "NO NO, Go way, skwachy monstew. Get OUT ma woom." Cause he's a bad guy, you know. And then he "snuggwed wif Mommy and Daddy in dere bed and was all bettew."
He asked if he could hold Olivia in the bathtub tonight, and when I smiled and said no, he said "cause I'm too wittle? I can't hode hew cause I'm too wittle, Mom?"
Sometimes he declares himself to be such a big kid, and sometimes he says, "No, I not too big Mom. I just wittle." Usually these are circumstances involving his pacifier and his bear and wanting to have them with him constantly. Or using the potty (which is out of the question) cause you know, he's just wittle.
Sometimes at the dinner table when the boys will both start talking at the same time, Jackson will freak out and put his hand up and say "No, Sam, no, no, no be quiet ONE AT A TIME!" and Sam will immediately be silent and wait for his turn to talk. Shockingly effective, and really quite cute.
I hear more and more conversations from the playroom as they work together on various tasks, and even more conversations from their bedroom pretty much every time they're supposed to be sleeping.
Sammy is definitely becoming a boy, and his babyhood is disappearing more quickly than I'm prepared to accept. But his cheeks are still chubby and incredibly soft, and he still likes to snuggle into my arms and run to me for magical boo boo kisses. Maybe he always will.
He asked if he could hold Olivia in the bathtub tonight, and when I smiled and said no, he said "cause I'm too wittle? I can't hode hew cause I'm too wittle, Mom?"
Sometimes he declares himself to be such a big kid, and sometimes he says, "No, I not too big Mom. I just wittle." Usually these are circumstances involving his pacifier and his bear and wanting to have them with him constantly. Or using the potty (which is out of the question) cause you know, he's just wittle.
Sometimes at the dinner table when the boys will both start talking at the same time, Jackson will freak out and put his hand up and say "No, Sam, no, no, no be quiet ONE AT A TIME!" and Sam will immediately be silent and wait for his turn to talk. Shockingly effective, and really quite cute.
I hear more and more conversations from the playroom as they work together on various tasks, and even more conversations from their bedroom pretty much every time they're supposed to be sleeping.
Sammy is definitely becoming a boy, and his babyhood is disappearing more quickly than I'm prepared to accept. But his cheeks are still chubby and incredibly soft, and he still likes to snuggle into my arms and run to me for magical boo boo kisses. Maybe he always will.
Monday, February 25, 2008
To Olivia - with two teeth
Olivia,
Wow! You'll be 8 months old this week and I can't believe it! You are still as bald as a cue ball, with the biggest dimples and sparkling blue eyes of any baby on earth. You are happy almost all the time, and people always comment on your demeanor as you beam away from the grocery cart, stroller, carseat, or my arms. You have two teeth now. All three of you have gotten your first teeth so early. I both love and fear those two little teeth, as you still nurse quite regularly. The first teeth are so exciting, and yet I always mourn the loss of a completely gummy smile, because there is nothing quite like it in the whole world. I can still see the you from a few weeks ago now in my mind, with your mouth wide open and those gums shining through your tiny pink lips. Now those innocent baby gums have two tiny, sharp teeth protruding, reminding me of snow after someone's footprints have marred it.
The first signs of your fangs are starting to appear now. Top teeth and bottom teeth- that's big kid stuff, you know. Soon you'll be eating all kinds of table food instead of just Cheerios, bananas and grapes. Soon you'll say more than just "mama" and I'll (wistfully) try to remember a time when you didn't talk. Sometimes when an older toddler girl goes wobbling past, I'll catch a glimpse of the future and see you wandering around, up on two feet; the time of just two teeth a memory by then. I see you growing up right before my eyes and it is both a blessing and a curse. I love you, little one. And no matter what, you will always be my baby girl.
Wow! You'll be 8 months old this week and I can't believe it! You are still as bald as a cue ball, with the biggest dimples and sparkling blue eyes of any baby on earth. You are happy almost all the time, and people always comment on your demeanor as you beam away from the grocery cart, stroller, carseat, or my arms. You have two teeth now. All three of you have gotten your first teeth so early. I both love and fear those two little teeth, as you still nurse quite regularly. The first teeth are so exciting, and yet I always mourn the loss of a completely gummy smile, because there is nothing quite like it in the whole world. I can still see the you from a few weeks ago now in my mind, with your mouth wide open and those gums shining through your tiny pink lips. Now those innocent baby gums have two tiny, sharp teeth protruding, reminding me of snow after someone's footprints have marred it.
The first signs of your fangs are starting to appear now. Top teeth and bottom teeth- that's big kid stuff, you know. Soon you'll be eating all kinds of table food instead of just Cheerios, bananas and grapes. Soon you'll say more than just "mama" and I'll (wistfully) try to remember a time when you didn't talk. Sometimes when an older toddler girl goes wobbling past, I'll catch a glimpse of the future and see you wandering around, up on two feet; the time of just two teeth a memory by then. I see you growing up right before my eyes and it is both a blessing and a curse. I love you, little one. And no matter what, you will always be my baby girl.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Family Fun Night
Last night was Family fun night at Jackson's school. I wasn't sure what to expect, but it was really cute and alot of fun for the kiddos. There was a moon bounce, a mini golf game, a maze, face painting, a cookie walk, and a silent auction for class baskets. The baskets were REALLY cute, and my favorite was a rainy day collection with games, movie and museum tickets, and yummy snacks, all wrapped up into an open umbrella. Loved it.
The boys had a great time playing with their friends and eating cookies.
Sam's snack
First there were the strawberry soldiers, lined up on the table, but they were soon abandoned
so he could feed baby sister her Cheerios. One at a time is not his favorite concept.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Overheard at the dinner table:
J: "Let's build a word"
S: "Yeah, we can do it!"
Pushing three cups together at the dinner table.
J: "A, B, C,"
S: "D"
And then, presenting the new word, "Word World" style from PBS and using their arms like Vanna White,
J: "GUITAR!"
Ummm, not quite.
Then they said "B, R, O"
We asked "What does that spell?"
They answered "Trucks!"
We have some work to do. Good thing we can DVR "Word World" for educational purposes! I kid, I kid...(kinda!)
S: "Yeah, we can do it!"
Pushing three cups together at the dinner table.
J: "A, B, C,"
S: "D"
And then, presenting the new word, "Word World" style from PBS and using their arms like Vanna White,
J: "GUITAR!"
Ummm, not quite.
Then they said "B, R, O"
We asked "What does that spell?"
They answered "Trucks!"
We have some work to do. Good thing we can DVR "Word World" for educational purposes! I kid, I kid...(kinda!)
Mission: demolition
We ventured to the neighbor's house today for a playdate. We were unshowered, still in pjs and generally messy, but nothing compared to the demolition we unleashed on my poor neighbor's beautiful home.
She is a MUUUUCH better housekeeper than I am, and her house, despite having a 13 year old, 5 year old and 2 year old, is always in fantastic shape; like eat off the floors clean. At least it was that clean BEFORE we arrived.
The boys pair off with one of her sons each time; Jackson with the 5 year old, and Sam with the 2 year old. Generally they go upstairs and play in the boys' rooms while we stay downstairs with Livi and talk. Those are the wonderful and relaxing parts of my day. But today, when Livi woke up from her nap and we went upstairs to get her, and also to check on the boys, we found the sheets in the master bedroom had been "decorated" with something purple. We followed the trail and found not only a pair of Nautica shorts (belonging to her very particular husband) that were also decorated, but eventually ended up at the purple PERMANENT marker. Now, I am very relieved because I am about 99.5 percent sure my kids are not to blame. For one thing, they were not in the master bedroom when we got upstairs. For another thing, Jackson wouldn't DREAM of making anything messy. He is about the world's cleanest kid. Finally, Sam (although being a likely culprit most of the time) has NEVER colored with a marker without also coloring all over his body, especially his face. Seeing as he was not purple, I think he was innocent and my neighbor's two year old was the artist of the day.
As if that wasn't enough, while we were upstairs stripping the sheets, the two year olds disappeared downstairs and we heard them rummaging in the kitchen. My neighbor loudly screamed for her son, even being so bold as to middle name him, causing him to come wandering (already crying with remorse) around the corner with cheese cracker crumbs all over his face.
When we entered the scene of the crime (and I SOOOO wish I had photos of this) we found two chairs moved from the table and carefully placed against the open pantry. And then as we scanned the perimeter, we saw what appeared to be the remains of a box of Cheese Nips after a hand grenade has been detonated INSIDE the box. Wow. She will certainly be finding crumbs for years to come. Both Sam and the neighbor 2 year old pointed the finger at Sam. I still have my doubts. He is not usually a food waster and was even eating the crackers out of the broom pile as my neighbor cleaned up the disaster. We may never know how it happened, but the evidence of a crime will remain in her house for many moons.
Oh yeah, and she served pizza for lunch, which the two year olds dropped on the floor, mashed around, ate a little, and left all over the place. There was pepperoni draped on the table's LEGS.
Silver lining: because the damage is so lasting, she'll always have a reminder of life when her kids were little. You're welcome! Downside: yuck. And um, sorry. We'll have the playdate HERE next time. Heck, my house is already trashed.
So, that is the story of how we were probably never invited back to my neighbors house for a playdate.
She is a MUUUUCH better housekeeper than I am, and her house, despite having a 13 year old, 5 year old and 2 year old, is always in fantastic shape; like eat off the floors clean. At least it was that clean BEFORE we arrived.
The boys pair off with one of her sons each time; Jackson with the 5 year old, and Sam with the 2 year old. Generally they go upstairs and play in the boys' rooms while we stay downstairs with Livi and talk. Those are the wonderful and relaxing parts of my day. But today, when Livi woke up from her nap and we went upstairs to get her, and also to check on the boys, we found the sheets in the master bedroom had been "decorated" with something purple. We followed the trail and found not only a pair of Nautica shorts (belonging to her very particular husband) that were also decorated, but eventually ended up at the purple PERMANENT marker. Now, I am very relieved because I am about 99.5 percent sure my kids are not to blame. For one thing, they were not in the master bedroom when we got upstairs. For another thing, Jackson wouldn't DREAM of making anything messy. He is about the world's cleanest kid. Finally, Sam (although being a likely culprit most of the time) has NEVER colored with a marker without also coloring all over his body, especially his face. Seeing as he was not purple, I think he was innocent and my neighbor's two year old was the artist of the day.
As if that wasn't enough, while we were upstairs stripping the sheets, the two year olds disappeared downstairs and we heard them rummaging in the kitchen. My neighbor loudly screamed for her son, even being so bold as to middle name him, causing him to come wandering (already crying with remorse) around the corner with cheese cracker crumbs all over his face.
When we entered the scene of the crime (and I SOOOO wish I had photos of this) we found two chairs moved from the table and carefully placed against the open pantry. And then as we scanned the perimeter, we saw what appeared to be the remains of a box of Cheese Nips after a hand grenade has been detonated INSIDE the box. Wow. She will certainly be finding crumbs for years to come. Both Sam and the neighbor 2 year old pointed the finger at Sam. I still have my doubts. He is not usually a food waster and was even eating the crackers out of the broom pile as my neighbor cleaned up the disaster. We may never know how it happened, but the evidence of a crime will remain in her house for many moons.
Oh yeah, and she served pizza for lunch, which the two year olds dropped on the floor, mashed around, ate a little, and left all over the place. There was pepperoni draped on the table's LEGS.
Silver lining: because the damage is so lasting, she'll always have a reminder of life when her kids were little. You're welcome! Downside: yuck. And um, sorry. We'll have the playdate HERE next time. Heck, my house is already trashed.
So, that is the story of how we were probably never invited back to my neighbors house for a playdate.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Spidertoddler, anyone?
Somehow in the last few days, the spiderman obsession around here has grown to outrageous proportions. I feel like I'm trapped in a constant action movie starring toddler boys who are convinced they are spiderman and I am of course, the enemy. There's only so much pummeling a person's kidneys can take. And yes, the head butting actually knocks the wind out of me sometimes! Sammy got the plush my first Spiderman and a BuildABear Spidermonkey for his second birthday, and they are getting quite a bit of use lately. Unfortunately, Spidermonkey lost his uniform yesterday because it had to be washed after Sam peed on him. Ew! Actually, to be completely accurate, Sam peed onto the floor through his Spiderman underwear and we thought Spidermonkey was the only victim. Turned out later that Sam had actually peed on the kitchen floor and cleverly discovered it when the two superheroes went tearing through the kitchen at breakneck speeds and Sam slipped in his own urine, becoming a human slip n slide and gliding around covering himself in pee. FABULOUS!
There is a constant shooting of spiderwebs and a mimed tearing off of said imaginary spiderwebs with great gusto and loud cries of power. The boys run all over the house, and the Spiderman pjs are the only ones they want to wear. Of course.
I wondered why they had this sudden push for Spiderman, especially since we only watch PBS and the occasional Disney show, so I wasn't really sure how Spiderman even became known to them. Until I came home from the grocery store the other day and found my husband and two sons huddled around the computer watching Spiderman movie trailers. Great! That's just what every child psychologist recommends! Woohoo!
So, until I can find a way to brainwash them back to loving "DragonTales" and Dr. Seuss, I guess I'm just going to have to continue to be the Green Goblin. That is, when the wind isn't being knocked out of me.
There is a constant shooting of spiderwebs and a mimed tearing off of said imaginary spiderwebs with great gusto and loud cries of power. The boys run all over the house, and the Spiderman pjs are the only ones they want to wear. Of course.
I wondered why they had this sudden push for Spiderman, especially since we only watch PBS and the occasional Disney show, so I wasn't really sure how Spiderman even became known to them. Until I came home from the grocery store the other day and found my husband and two sons huddled around the computer watching Spiderman movie trailers. Great! That's just what every child psychologist recommends! Woohoo!
So, until I can find a way to brainwash them back to loving "DragonTales" and Dr. Seuss, I guess I'm just going to have to continue to be the Green Goblin. That is, when the wind isn't being knocked out of me.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Fire in the hole!
This morning we had some friends over to play, and of course all three of my kids took that opportunity to make LOTS of poo for me to change. Hurray!
As a bit of background for this post (although I think you know where this is going), after a quick trip to the outlets last night we stopped for some Chinese food and the boys ate quite a bit of the spicy hot and sour soup and General Tsao's chicken. Sam also seemed to have a mild allergic reaction to something he ate, but his list of food allergies is soooo huge, that we often have no idea what has caused it despite having him tested. It does usually tear up his tummy, though.
SOOO, after changing a BUNCH of diapers this morning, Sam came in, walking like a cowboy who's been on a LONG excursion and said "Mommy, I made poopoo. Change me, Mommy. It's diarrhea kind. Change me mommy. Dere's fire in there."
As I changed him, he added "Use creamy, Mommy."
Today we had fire in the hole and clear evidence that if you can say you have diarrhea, fire in there, and use cream, you need to be pooping in the potty. Sigh.
As a bit of background for this post (although I think you know where this is going), after a quick trip to the outlets last night we stopped for some Chinese food and the boys ate quite a bit of the spicy hot and sour soup and General Tsao's chicken. Sam also seemed to have a mild allergic reaction to something he ate, but his list of food allergies is soooo huge, that we often have no idea what has caused it despite having him tested. It does usually tear up his tummy, though.
SOOO, after changing a BUNCH of diapers this morning, Sam came in, walking like a cowboy who's been on a LONG excursion and said "Mommy, I made poopoo. Change me, Mommy. It's diarrhea kind. Change me mommy. Dere's fire in there."
As I changed him, he added "Use creamy, Mommy."
Today we had fire in the hole and clear evidence that if you can say you have diarrhea, fire in there, and use cream, you need to be pooping in the potty. Sigh.
Monday, February 18, 2008
My first award
I'm so proud...I feel like my parents should be here snapping a bajillion pictures and calling all the relatives!
It's my first (and quite possibly only) blog award, given to me by the fantastic Fern of Candleatbothends, and I shall cherish it always. She describes the award thusly:
"The Daily Dose Award is for 'all the blogs that you’ve discovered that you can’t possibly live without. They make you laugh, cry, think and feel connected every time you read a post. They give you a thrill as you see them loading into your browser and you get an equally satisfying thrill when you see that they have commented on your blog.' "
Thank you, thank you. I mean, it's not an Oscar, but a girl in my situation certainly has to take what she can get- they'd probably frown on my kids peeing all over the stage and hanging off my legs, anyway! And Fern, you are DEFINITELY in my Daily Dose winners circle, too!
Thanks!
It's my first (and quite possibly only) blog award, given to me by the fantastic Fern of Candleatbothends, and I shall cherish it always. She describes the award thusly:
"The Daily Dose Award is for 'all the blogs that you’ve discovered that you can’t possibly live without. They make you laugh, cry, think and feel connected every time you read a post. They give you a thrill as you see them loading into your browser and you get an equally satisfying thrill when you see that they have commented on your blog.' "
Thank you, thank you. I mean, it's not an Oscar, but a girl in my situation certainly has to take what she can get- they'd probably frown on my kids peeing all over the stage and hanging off my legs, anyway! And Fern, you are DEFINITELY in my Daily Dose winners circle, too!
Thanks!
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Our Valentine treats 2008
First, these are the beautiful flowers from Ryan...presented Valentine's morning alongside a box of Jelly Belly beans, cards for me and the kids, and a box of fresh Dunkin Donuts...mmm, yum!
This is our flowerpot bouquet to take to playgroup and give to our little buddies there.
These are the Valentines Jack took to school, and also to playgroup and the neighbors. We made over 45 Valentines all total. Whew, glad it's only once a year!
The kiddos enjoyed their Valentine care packages from Mimi, Grandma Sadler, and Grandma. But the temporary tattoos were a HUGE hit, and I even sported a lady bug on my foot all weekend. Tons of fun! Love those chubby legs all decked out!
Finally, the boys really loved the giant robot singing balloon Daddy brought home for them. Unfortunately, he met an untimely demise just 15 minutes after the boys received him. Apparently he was a "bad guy" and it appears he was sliced with a semi-sharp object, but forensics haven't gotten back to me yet. Anyhoo, I was secretly glad because the huge singing heart they got last year lasted way.too.long and those songs were burned into my poor aching brain for ages afterward. Happy V day to my sweet kids! Mommy loves you SOOOO much!And speaking of exhausted...
Thank heavens Sam sleeps in a toddler bed most of the time, and was on a mattress in his old room asleep on this particular night, because as you can see, exhausted and sleeping in a funky position doesn't even begin to describe it!
A tale of a playroom and two exhausted kids
Once upon a time, my kids destroyed the playroom...oh wait, that's every day.
Then they collapsed in exhausted heaps on their beds...aaaahhhhh, I LOVE naptimes!
And this is how I found him...
The other day, after having to separate the boys at naptime from their incessant bed jumping, book stacking, general havoc wreaking ways, Sam was crying in his room because his beloved paci had broken and mean ol' mommy said he would have to go to sleep without a new one...in his own room...all by himself. SOOOO, being that I am actually a huge softy, I trekked down to the ol' silver rocket (aka the minivan) and pulled one out that a friend had given me after several desperate trades back and forth between our kids and their regular tantrums. I walked back up the stairs, listening for his hysterics, which had quieted to a low moan, and opened his door to find him like this. This photo is actually a re-enactment, since even I am not mean enough to leave him moaning in a drawer while I run to get my camera. When I said to him, "Sam, what are you doing?" He said "I dun NO!" Kids. Nuf said.
Thwarted again...
We attempted to go to church today. We haven't attended church regularly for a while, reasons such as napping children, travelling on the weekends, and an intense desire to lay around drinking coffee and reading the paper on Sunday mornings. However, we do feel that we benefit from church and that we want our kids to be in a habit of attendance.
This morning we were going to renew the tradition.
Of course everyone decided to sleep in this morning, and we had chosen to make the 9:45 service. I dashed out of bed at 8:15, throwing breakfast at the kids and hopping into the shower. The next hour was a flurry of activity, since feeding/dressing/shoeing 3 little ones takes oh, about forever, and there's always the discussion of which shoes to wear and trying to coax Sam into a sweater. Phew. I was ready to kill people by the time we were all in the car, and kept trying to relax and be more spiritual. It just seems wrong to spend the ride to church in a murderous haze.
Anyhow, as we pulled out of the garage, Ryan looked over and said "After church, I'll fill the car up with gas and pump some air into that back tire."
And then as we started to pull off our street, he stopped the car and said "Do you feel that? It's like we're dragging something," just as our neighbor's son ran up to tell us we had a flat tire.
AAAARGH!
SO, they were taking their suburban and have a spare minivan, so they helped us move our 3 carseats over to their minivan, bags, screaming kids and all, and then we parked our flat tired car in their driveway and headed back out.
By now, it was about 10:10, and too late for church. We could kill some time, and then try to hit the 11 service, but the commotion had been too much for a hysterical Sam, who had not stopped crying, basically since we put his sweater on him before leaving the house nearly an hour before, and we thought it would be best to head back home.
Only Jackson didn't want to go home. He wanted to go to CHURCH! So while Sam sat calmly in his carseat now, Jackson became a screaming, wailing, blithering mess of a kid, broken-hearted because we had PROMISED we were going to church and now we weren't anymore and WAAAAHHH!
Now they're all sleeping and Ryan is out getting a new tire. Hallelujah! Better luck next Sunday... and Mmmmm, my coffee is good.
This morning we were going to renew the tradition.
Of course everyone decided to sleep in this morning, and we had chosen to make the 9:45 service. I dashed out of bed at 8:15, throwing breakfast at the kids and hopping into the shower. The next hour was a flurry of activity, since feeding/dressing/shoeing 3 little ones takes oh, about forever, and there's always the discussion of which shoes to wear and trying to coax Sam into a sweater. Phew. I was ready to kill people by the time we were all in the car, and kept trying to relax and be more spiritual. It just seems wrong to spend the ride to church in a murderous haze.
Anyhow, as we pulled out of the garage, Ryan looked over and said "After church, I'll fill the car up with gas and pump some air into that back tire."
And then as we started to pull off our street, he stopped the car and said "Do you feel that? It's like we're dragging something," just as our neighbor's son ran up to tell us we had a flat tire.
AAAARGH!
SO, they were taking their suburban and have a spare minivan, so they helped us move our 3 carseats over to their minivan, bags, screaming kids and all, and then we parked our flat tired car in their driveway and headed back out.
By now, it was about 10:10, and too late for church. We could kill some time, and then try to hit the 11 service, but the commotion had been too much for a hysterical Sam, who had not stopped crying, basically since we put his sweater on him before leaving the house nearly an hour before, and we thought it would be best to head back home.
Only Jackson didn't want to go home. He wanted to go to CHURCH! So while Sam sat calmly in his carseat now, Jackson became a screaming, wailing, blithering mess of a kid, broken-hearted because we had PROMISED we were going to church and now we weren't anymore and WAAAAHHH!
Now they're all sleeping and Ryan is out getting a new tire. Hallelujah! Better luck next Sunday... and Mmmmm, my coffee is good.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Ballentimes Day
Tomorrow is "ballentimes day" here at our house, and Jack had his party today at school. He didn't want to go (as usual), but was at least excited to hand out the handmade butterfly Valentines we made this week. When I arrived at the school for pickup, I was right on time, but a few mothers had beaten me there. I could see the distress on his face as he sat in the circle of waiting children, and mid-complaint to his teacher, he broke into a smile as he saw me appear in the doorway. He got up and ran to me, without getting permission first, and dove into my arms. As I scooped him up and hugged him close, he laid his pink cheek on my shoulder and began to sigh outloud with relief. I kissed him softly and asked about his day as I set him back down on the floor. He said "I had fun at school today, but then all the other big mommies were here and I got sad because I could not see you." The boys spent the afternoon playing together, and Jackson happily and graciously shared his lollipops and chocolate Valentines from school with his chocolate crazed little brother. We made a laminated placemat from the Valentines so he can look at them during snack times for the next few days, and they were thrilled with the final product.
Tonight as we tucked them into bed, Sam declared "I go seep in ma room," and began gathering his things to migrate back to his old room. Ryan tucked in Sam while I finished up with Jack, and as I whispered goodnights and blowing kisses into the darkness and pulled the door closed, Jackson began calling in a sweet and desperately quiet voice, "No, don't leave...don't go, please don't go. I wanna kiss you again before you go." I went in and bent down for my final kiss of the day, and his slobbery squishy lips pressed on me with the sincerity of childlike love.
After a few minutes, Sam began crying in his room for Mommy. I went to check on him and he peeked around the corner into the soft glow of my room, declaring "Mummum, snugga me in yor bed, mummum." I tried to be firm as I told him that I would snuggle in HIS room and that he needed to go to sleep in his own bed, but as he began pointing to the dreaded corner of his room and INSISTING there was a "scratchy monster" in the corner, my resolve melted and we moved back to Jackson's room with his bear, paci, and "shiny blanket" in tow. Jackson was laying diagonally across his little toddler bed with his feet dangling off the edge, face buried in a book. His face lit up when we walked in, and when I told him Sam had been scared in his own room and wanted to come back, a cheer of "YAH!" erupted. The troublesome twosome had been reunited. And that is what "ballentimes day" is all about...at least in our neck of the woods.
Tonight as we tucked them into bed, Sam declared "I go seep in ma room," and began gathering his things to migrate back to his old room. Ryan tucked in Sam while I finished up with Jack, and as I whispered goodnights and blowing kisses into the darkness and pulled the door closed, Jackson began calling in a sweet and desperately quiet voice, "No, don't leave...don't go, please don't go. I wanna kiss you again before you go." I went in and bent down for my final kiss of the day, and his slobbery squishy lips pressed on me with the sincerity of childlike love.
After a few minutes, Sam began crying in his room for Mommy. I went to check on him and he peeked around the corner into the soft glow of my room, declaring "Mummum, snugga me in yor bed, mummum." I tried to be firm as I told him that I would snuggle in HIS room and that he needed to go to sleep in his own bed, but as he began pointing to the dreaded corner of his room and INSISTING there was a "scratchy monster" in the corner, my resolve melted and we moved back to Jackson's room with his bear, paci, and "shiny blanket" in tow. Jackson was laying diagonally across his little toddler bed with his feet dangling off the edge, face buried in a book. His face lit up when we walked in, and when I told him Sam had been scared in his own room and wanted to come back, a cheer of "YAH!" erupted. The troublesome twosome had been reunited. And that is what "ballentimes day" is all about...at least in our neck of the woods.
Monday, February 11, 2008
A letter to my children
Today I was reading a blog called "The Comfy Place" in which the writer is faced with the possibility of dying from colon cancer in the next 12 months, and leaving behind her beautiful son. This, my sweet children, is my biggest fear. I do not fear death. I do not fear the cause of my death, or the afterlife, for I know that Jesus is my Savior and that I will spend eternity in a place of happiness and glory. But I fear leaving behind my loved ones, particularly you and your father. If I should have the privilege of staying on this earth to raise you, may this be a reminder to me of the lessons I want to teach you. If I am called to heaven while you are still young, may you learn these lessons in my absence, for they are the beliefs most dear to me.
First, I want you to know that I loved each of you with every fiber of my being. I did not know it was possible to love something so fiercely until you came into my life. I adore you; I think you are beautiful, smart, special, worthy, and all things great in this world. If I had to pick one thing to do for the rest of my life, it would unquestionably be to love and care for you. You are my world.
I want you to read the Bible, go to church, and learn to love God. This is the most crucial thing for you to do for yourselves. Someday we can all be together again if you discover the same truths I have; that Jesus came to earth to die on the cross and because of his sacrifice, we are absolved of our sins and able to find eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. Please make God a priority in your life. If you do, you will never be alone.
Always do your best. No one can ever expect more of you than this. And no one but you will ever know if you are doing your best.
Love each other. I know if I am gone when you are still young, that there will be many things you will not remember. But you are very loving right now. In fact, you adore one another. I hope that never changes. And every tragedy that you face, you can have each other to help you through it. Giving you each other is one of my proudest gifts.
There is room in your heart for everyone you hold dear. If your father should find someone else to be your mommy, and you love that person, that is okay with me. In fact, I hope you have someone special in your life to do all the things that a mommy does for you and with you. Having and loving another "mommy" will not take anything away from me, and your heart has enough room in it for us both.
Well, I will come back another day and write some more for you, my precious little ones. I have exhausted my emotions for today, and will have to do some pondering, some editing, and some soul searching to be sure I impart the lessons to you I most want to leave behind. And my deepest prayer besides a lifetime of happiness for you, is that I will live a long life here on this earth and have plenty of time to teach you what is important. I hope to watch you grow old, to see your futures unfold, to witness your transformations through the many stages of life, and to someday smother my grandchildren and great-grandchildren with kisses. I love you and always will.
First, I want you to know that I loved each of you with every fiber of my being. I did not know it was possible to love something so fiercely until you came into my life. I adore you; I think you are beautiful, smart, special, worthy, and all things great in this world. If I had to pick one thing to do for the rest of my life, it would unquestionably be to love and care for you. You are my world.
I want you to read the Bible, go to church, and learn to love God. This is the most crucial thing for you to do for yourselves. Someday we can all be together again if you discover the same truths I have; that Jesus came to earth to die on the cross and because of his sacrifice, we are absolved of our sins and able to find eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. Please make God a priority in your life. If you do, you will never be alone.
Always do your best. No one can ever expect more of you than this. And no one but you will ever know if you are doing your best.
Love each other. I know if I am gone when you are still young, that there will be many things you will not remember. But you are very loving right now. In fact, you adore one another. I hope that never changes. And every tragedy that you face, you can have each other to help you through it. Giving you each other is one of my proudest gifts.
There is room in your heart for everyone you hold dear. If your father should find someone else to be your mommy, and you love that person, that is okay with me. In fact, I hope you have someone special in your life to do all the things that a mommy does for you and with you. Having and loving another "mommy" will not take anything away from me, and your heart has enough room in it for us both.
Well, I will come back another day and write some more for you, my precious little ones. I have exhausted my emotions for today, and will have to do some pondering, some editing, and some soul searching to be sure I impart the lessons to you I most want to leave behind. And my deepest prayer besides a lifetime of happiness for you, is that I will live a long life here on this earth and have plenty of time to teach you what is important. I hope to watch you grow old, to see your futures unfold, to witness your transformations through the many stages of life, and to someday smother my grandchildren and great-grandchildren with kisses. I love you and always will.
To conceive or not to conceive...that is the question.
Well, I've been thinking alot about the addition of number 4 to our already kinda crowded family. I go back and forth about the issue alot, and can't seem to reconcile my own feelings toward any one decision. On one hand, our family seems great right now, and I don't want to "rock the boat" so to speak. I have three, beautiful, healthy children, and maybe I should quit while everyone is happy, everyones needs are being semi-met, and I have enough bedrooms for everyone.
But then I think of getting rid of all my baby stuff, and my heart starts to ache. All those tiny little clothes, and sweet baby shoes. The swings, the bassinet, the bouncy seat, the exersaucer, the baby tub, the high chair- all things baby that I have had in constant use in my house for the last 3.5 years. I know many people can't wait to rid themselves of all that baby clutter, and there's a small part of me that looks forward to having all that space back. But the bigger part of me wants to see another baby make use of all that "stuff." A few months ago when we packed Sam's crib into the attic, I felt so sad that we didn't have two cribs in use at the same time anymore. Only ONE crib? That seems so lonely.
Then I think of having my body back. Maybe I would actually invest in some decent clothes again once I know I'm not going to have any more pregnancies. Maybe I would wear regular bras and not nursing bras. Maybe I would wear heels again every now and then. Maybe I would even start getting things like regular haircuts and highlights, facials, and manicures. Maybe I would be me again.
People keep telling me that you KNOW when you're done having kids, so why am I in such turmoil over the whole thing? I don't KNOW that I'm done, but I also don't KNOW that I'm not. I see pregnant women and I long to feel those tiny kicks from within, letting me know that there's a little person, part me and part Ryan, growing inside me, filling not only my uterus, but my heart as well. I watch "Baby Story" on TLC, and think that I'm not ready for my last birth experience to be over. I love finding out the sex of the baby, the ultrasounds and hearing that tiny heartbeat, and the excitement of impending labor. I would love to meet another child and have my entire life changed...all over again.
But FOUR kids seems like so many. My husband and I both come from families with four children, so shouldn't it seem normal to us to have four of our own? But dinners out for four kids- Yikes! And trips to Disney for four kids- extra YIKES! And COLLEGE for FOUR KIDS AT THE SAME TIME- YOWZA!
Maybe one morning (hopefully soon!) I'll wake up with a feeling and KNOW what I want and what is the right thing for my family. But until then...hmmmmm.
But then I think of getting rid of all my baby stuff, and my heart starts to ache. All those tiny little clothes, and sweet baby shoes. The swings, the bassinet, the bouncy seat, the exersaucer, the baby tub, the high chair- all things baby that I have had in constant use in my house for the last 3.5 years. I know many people can't wait to rid themselves of all that baby clutter, and there's a small part of me that looks forward to having all that space back. But the bigger part of me wants to see another baby make use of all that "stuff." A few months ago when we packed Sam's crib into the attic, I felt so sad that we didn't have two cribs in use at the same time anymore. Only ONE crib? That seems so lonely.
Then I think of having my body back. Maybe I would actually invest in some decent clothes again once I know I'm not going to have any more pregnancies. Maybe I would wear regular bras and not nursing bras. Maybe I would wear heels again every now and then. Maybe I would even start getting things like regular haircuts and highlights, facials, and manicures. Maybe I would be me again.
People keep telling me that you KNOW when you're done having kids, so why am I in such turmoil over the whole thing? I don't KNOW that I'm done, but I also don't KNOW that I'm not. I see pregnant women and I long to feel those tiny kicks from within, letting me know that there's a little person, part me and part Ryan, growing inside me, filling not only my uterus, but my heart as well. I watch "Baby Story" on TLC, and think that I'm not ready for my last birth experience to be over. I love finding out the sex of the baby, the ultrasounds and hearing that tiny heartbeat, and the excitement of impending labor. I would love to meet another child and have my entire life changed...all over again.
But FOUR kids seems like so many. My husband and I both come from families with four children, so shouldn't it seem normal to us to have four of our own? But dinners out for four kids- Yikes! And trips to Disney for four kids- extra YIKES! And COLLEGE for FOUR KIDS AT THE SAME TIME- YOWZA!
Maybe one morning (hopefully soon!) I'll wake up with a feeling and KNOW what I want and what is the right thing for my family. But until then...hmmmmm.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
I'm back online, BABY!
Whew. I have been without internet for over 48 hours, and I feel like an addict. I can't believe how far behind I have fallen from this little "glitch" that my fantastic cable company has put me through. (Aaaargh, COMCAST.) Anywhoodle, the kids have done some amazingly cute things while I have been away from the computer letting my Banana Republic bill become late and whatnot.
Jackson had school on Wednesday, and I was going to have to take him because his carpool buddy had a field trip and went to school early. SO, he did the usual tearful exit- no crying persay, just huge watery blue eyes that make me sick as I drive away from the drop-off line. Then we headed to Olivia's doctor's appointment because nothing makes you feel like a better mom quite like holding your baby down while she gets a flu shot. Woohoo!
Then the usual grocery errands and whatnot, hitting two grocery stores because one had a deal on milk and I am the cheapest woman alive.
When we picked Jackson up from school, Sam had fallen asleep in the 2 minutes it took for me to gather Jack from the playground and walk him to the car. Jack decided he wanted tacos for lunch, so a quick swing by Taco Bell (YUCK!), and we were on our way home. As we pulled into our neighborhood Sam woke up, and I heard "Yah! Jashon's home fwom skoow!" And they held hands between their car seats as they excitedly told each other the details of their morning:
Jackson (without taking a breath at all) "Sam! I was at skoow and we had a pahty for my teachwa and we had bwownies and I made a pwetty pitchewr fow you and its in my bag and we got tacos for wunch and...."
Sam (equally enthralled) "Jashon!" We goed to da stow and we got chips and we goed to da stow and I a big helpa fow Mommy and..."
As we pulled into the garage, Jackson unhooked his seat and jumped down to show Sam the red heart he made at school for Sammy. And Sammy cheered, throwing his arms into the air and saying "Thant chu, Jashon." And Jackson said "You welcome, Sammybear," while they embraced and my heart melted into mush.
We hit 78 degrees here yesterday, so the kids spent the afternoon in the backyard playing in the sandbox, riding their truck, kicking around the soccer ball, and swinging/sliding on their playset. Olivia had her first ride in the baby swing, and although I was inside making dinner, Ryan said she seemed to like it. Her military crawling always makes me think of that yucky/stupid movie "The Grudge" and the way the creature thing moves in there. The similarity is disturbing. But she's still crazily cute and I'll try to look past the whole horror movie thing.
The boys haven't slept in the same room for two days. We keep having to split them up after they insist on getting out of bed and wreaking havoc on their room. Oddly enough, Sammy seems to prefer his old room. So maybe we'll be splitting them back up for a while. Visions of my guest room are floating sadly away. Sigh.
Sammy has taken to waking up baby sister from her naps. I never catch him IN the act, but the aftermath is a crying baby, an open door, and a quiet sound machine. I'm still trying to figure out if his presence/noise wakes her up, or if he sneaks up on her and does his trademark "Punking" move (Kind of a fierce poke to any part of another person's body.) We're thinking probably the punk. Yesterday after the second time he woke her up, he got a stern "talking to" from Mommy and ran down the hall to his room, throwing himself dramatically onto his bed and crying into his pillow like a broken-hearted teenage girl. Clearly another trait from their father - heh.
Jackson had school on Wednesday, and I was going to have to take him because his carpool buddy had a field trip and went to school early. SO, he did the usual tearful exit- no crying persay, just huge watery blue eyes that make me sick as I drive away from the drop-off line. Then we headed to Olivia's doctor's appointment because nothing makes you feel like a better mom quite like holding your baby down while she gets a flu shot. Woohoo!
Then the usual grocery errands and whatnot, hitting two grocery stores because one had a deal on milk and I am the cheapest woman alive.
When we picked Jackson up from school, Sam had fallen asleep in the 2 minutes it took for me to gather Jack from the playground and walk him to the car. Jack decided he wanted tacos for lunch, so a quick swing by Taco Bell (YUCK!), and we were on our way home. As we pulled into our neighborhood Sam woke up, and I heard "Yah! Jashon's home fwom skoow!" And they held hands between their car seats as they excitedly told each other the details of their morning:
Jackson (without taking a breath at all) "Sam! I was at skoow and we had a pahty for my teachwa and we had bwownies and I made a pwetty pitchewr fow you and its in my bag and we got tacos for wunch and...."
Sam (equally enthralled) "Jashon!" We goed to da stow and we got chips and we goed to da stow and I a big helpa fow Mommy and..."
As we pulled into the garage, Jackson unhooked his seat and jumped down to show Sam the red heart he made at school for Sammy. And Sammy cheered, throwing his arms into the air and saying "Thant chu, Jashon." And Jackson said "You welcome, Sammybear," while they embraced and my heart melted into mush.
We hit 78 degrees here yesterday, so the kids spent the afternoon in the backyard playing in the sandbox, riding their truck, kicking around the soccer ball, and swinging/sliding on their playset. Olivia had her first ride in the baby swing, and although I was inside making dinner, Ryan said she seemed to like it. Her military crawling always makes me think of that yucky/stupid movie "The Grudge" and the way the creature thing moves in there. The similarity is disturbing. But she's still crazily cute and I'll try to look past the whole horror movie thing.
The boys haven't slept in the same room for two days. We keep having to split them up after they insist on getting out of bed and wreaking havoc on their room. Oddly enough, Sammy seems to prefer his old room. So maybe we'll be splitting them back up for a while. Visions of my guest room are floating sadly away. Sigh.
Sammy has taken to waking up baby sister from her naps. I never catch him IN the act, but the aftermath is a crying baby, an open door, and a quiet sound machine. I'm still trying to figure out if his presence/noise wakes her up, or if he sneaks up on her and does his trademark "Punking" move (Kind of a fierce poke to any part of another person's body.) We're thinking probably the punk. Yesterday after the second time he woke her up, he got a stern "talking to" from Mommy and ran down the hall to his room, throwing himself dramatically onto his bed and crying into his pillow like a broken-hearted teenage girl. Clearly another trait from their father - heh.
Monday, February 4, 2008
The cuteness...is...killing...me...
The boys have been holy terrors about going to sleep at night. I decided today I was going to get tough. But then they outsmarted me when Sam took his nap in the car after falling asleep on the way home from the Children's museum. And of course Jackson went right down like a little angel. So tonight we instituted a zero tolerance policy, and the first time they got out of bed, we moved Sam to his old room. After a while, though, I softened and let them go back in together. As predicted, they jumped around and started the usual shenanigans. After we both went up to yell at them, and I went up once on a pacifier recovery mission, they lost their night light and are now softly singing "Twinkle Twinkle" together in the dark from their own beds. The cuteness- it actually hurts.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Bubbles in the bathtub
Most of the afternoon was spent outside with the boys happily riding their new Ford truck from Christmas. It always amazes me how content Sammy is to be the passenger in that thing! It was in the 60s today, and was our first warm day in a while. As I brought out a tray of snacks (apple slices, cheese cubes, vanilla wafers, and goldfish crackers) Sammy chose a cheese cube and said as he smiled, "Mmmm, bootiful." He must be the only two year old to describe food as beautiful! Until it's warm enough for bubbles outside again, we have been amusing ourselves with bubbles in the bathtub. I think I enjoy it almost as much as the boys (okay, maybe more!) and find huge satisfaction in making the biggest possible bubble, and quickly puffing it away before the boys can pop it. They think it's hilarious when a bubble pops, either at their own hands, or on a wall, ceiling, or spontaneous combustion (although the latter is perhaps their favorite!).
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Just another fun day at the zoo
We built with blocks...the usual, houses, roads, bridges, etc. over and over and over and over
we made our baby sister laugh...
and gave Spiderman a piece of our minds- we're watching you, Spidey...
And we painted/snacked on pudding paints. Some of us, (ahem, Sam) did more snacking than painting, but hey, that's okay!
A new beauty regime for the boys
I purchased several glue sticks for the art projects at Sam's birthday party. In my need to take a "daycation" this week (okay, okay- it could be called a strike), I left some of the materials laying around. While I was on the phone, the boys were running around wreaking general havoc on the upstairs, and finally came dashing in with open glue sticks in hand, happily smearing them on their lips and face. I shrieked that they were NOT chapstick and to please give them to Mommy, which they did immediately. Then I got to thinking...do they make these strong enough to hold lips shut? Cause, my two boys have a SERIOUS case of the motor mouths. (Which they clearly get from their father ;-)
Friday, February 1, 2008
Happiness is...
...enjoying fruit loops and peanut butter waffles during a rousing episode of Clifford the Big Red Dog, from inside your new Thomas the Train tent. Living the good life, I'd say.
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