Here we go

My bag is packed. The groceries are purchased. Mummu knows the routine. And tomorrow I begin my 2 year journey to nursehood.T is totally in love with his Mummu. He thinks she's the best thing since sunbutter and jelly sandwiches.

And I'm feeling very good about Mummu and F. They seem to be getting along beautifully. I still don't think Mummu knows what she's gotten herself into, but she's excited and ready to go.

And me? I'm as ready as I'm going to get. Here we go.

It is official

I'm a nursing student. I have the hospital ID to prove it.

In one swell foop

Our lives are about to change pretty dramatically. I've been feeling pretty bi-polar about school starting next week. One moment I am very excited to be starting a new adventure. The next I'm on the verge of tears thinking about F's reaction to being away from me for 8 hours a day. Then I am looking forward to having some time to be a regular adult, without a tiny person permanently attached to my hip. Then I'm back to super anxious about how I'm going to balance full-time student with mom and wife.

I always know that something is really bothering me when I start having bad dreams about it. In this case, I have been dreaming that F cries for all 8 hours ... every day.

Sometimes I'm sitting with my family and have this overwhelming sense of peace and rightness with the world. I'm just praying that my new adventure isn't going to upset the delicate balance of our lives ... too much.

Finally, really done ... mostly

Apparently, it's not a holiday weekend in our house unless we have a project. This weekend, we worked on the bathroom. We've been working on our bathroom in tiny baby steps since we bought the house 5 years ago. This is what it looked like when we closed on the house. There was nothing wrong with it, per se, it was was just kind of boring and ugly. I especially hated the light fixture. First we painted and put in new hardware (towel racks, toilet paper holder, etc. Last summer, we finally replaced the vanity. Then we had to look for a new light fixture and medicine cabinet. I found a fixture pretty quickly and we bought it last September. It's been sitting in the basement ever since, waiting for a medicine cabinet.

Then we finally found a medicine cabinet at Ikea, of all places. We got it and promptly went on vacation. This weekend, we finally (and by we, I of course mean Ry) took down the old light and vanity, replastered and painted and installed the new.
Ta da! Isn't it lovely? I have happy.

Now we just have to pull out the awful tub surround (which stains if you so much as look at it with colored anything) and tile the tub. That is a project for another day.

Really?

Happy Independence Day!

Go Blind Squirrels!

After yesterday's fireworks fiasco, we weren't sure if we were going to catch any fireworks this Independence Day weekend. Today, T was in a great mood and took a (short) nap, so we thought we'd give the fireworks at Sesame Place a try. As it turns out, this was probably a better solution than the township fireworks would have been. It was shorter, set to Sesame Street music, and the exit was well-planned and executed. It was also about an hour earlier than the township fireworks went off. It turns out that a blind squirrel does occasionally find a nut. I've decided that blind squirrels are our new family mascot.

This goes down as one of my all-time favorite pictures of F. He wasn't scared. Not one bit.

And of course, T thought they were pretty swell too. This is an interesting shot, because it looks like it's the middle of the day. It's not. It was dark. Cameras do funny things.

Anyhow, we had a lovely evening, ate some delicious ice cream and saw our fireworks. Go blind squirrels!

Niagara Falls: The Rest of the Story

I'm sure that pretty much anyone who reads this blog has already looked at the Niagara Falls pictures on Facebook. So this post won't include any of those pictures. Instead, you'll get some less touristy, but probably funnier pictures that have nothing to do with the falls, except that they were taken there.

We started out on our 436 mile journey bright and early Tuesday morning. It was the longest one-day journey we've attempted with the boys. The googles estimated that it would take us 7 hours and 15 minutes. In true family-with-young-children style, it took 10.

Once we finally got to our hotel, T was entranced with the shoe polisher. I hadn't seen one in many years. Do you still have one, Dad?

We also indulged in a glass of wine or two. Dad and Lala had stopped and picked up some bottle-sized box-o-wine. It was taaaaaasty. Then we ate dinner and watched the falls' illumination. Blah blah blah.

Day two started with a bang when we attempted to feed the kids in the hotel room. This was a bad idea.

But we made it through and started off towards the falls. F, of course, fell asleep.

We went on the Behind the Fall exhibit, where we all got fabulously wet and T and Lala made temporary hand print graffiti on the walls.

F and Lala size up each other. This was about as close as F got to being OK with someone other than me for the entire week. Sigh.

As you can see, he's a bit of a mommy's boy.

We went on the Maid of the Mist. F was asleep again. It was awe-inspiring, blah blah blah.

We attempted to get a picture with Dad and T. Not so much. T is not a big fan of posing these days.

We had dinner at the Keg, overlooking the falls. It was super tasty and a beautiful view.

Then I gave the boys a bath in the GIANT HOTEL TUB!!! T loved the whirlpool setting.

Dad and Lala found a golf course on Day Three, while we walked about, ate some ice cream and found a play land. That night, we went to see Oh Canada, Eh, a dinner show of all things Canada. It was fun. T tried (and liked) pea soup. Om nom nom.

We had to switch hotels this day. F was pretty tired in the morning, so I nursed him and he passed out. We packed around him.

This was the view from our second hotel. Not quite so impressive.

We hung out and took some cute pictures of F.

And that night we went out for ice cream. F has a thing for teeth these days. I suppose it's because he only has the two.

The next morning, we went home. It was a great trip and even better to see Dad and Lala. I was happy to get home though, and get the boys back into their regular beds, where they sleep much, much better. Ahhh, sleep.

Discipline Sucks

Right now, we are supposed to be headed out to see the Independence Day fireworks. Instead, we're hanging on the couch. Why? Well, here's the thing.

We've been talking with T about the fireworks all week. He's been super excited. All week, I've also been telling him that he had to take a nap the day we went to the fireworks because we were going to be up late. He's a monster in the evenings if he doesn't get a nap. And so. And so, today I put him down for his nap, with a reminder that he had to take a nap so we could go see the fireworks. Then I put F down. Then half an hour later, I heard some suspicious noises coming from T's room. He was sitting up playing with his toys. Then we had this conversation.

Me: T, you need to go to sleep so we can go to the fireworks tonight.

T: OK Mommy.

We continued to have this conversation every 30 minutes. I tried rubbing his back. I tried sitting in his chair. I tried scratching his head. Nothing. None of my usual get him to nap tricks worked today. I told him that if he didn't sleep, we weren't going to be able to go to the fireworks.

Finally, around 4:15, I went into his room (where he was playing with his matchbox cars), and told him that if he would like to get up that was his choice, but it would mean no fireworks tonight. He got up. Ry asked him to take a nap so we could go. "No Daddy, I choose not to go to the fireworks." (Yes, he actually said it, just like that.)

So here we are, sitting on the couch. Fireworksless. T, of course, threw a fit tonight before bed when he realized that we really weren't going to the fireworks. He also lost dessert tonight for kicking his brother, had to go to bed early for hitting him with a toy, and lost one of his bedtime books for not listening to his father. Can't you imagine how joyful he'd have been in a crowded park 2 hours past his bedtime? Delightful.

Sometimes, it sucks to be the parent.

SWAGGER WAGON

If you're not a parent, this may not be so funny. It made us laugh out loud. My favorite moment is at 1:36. Ry's is at 2:06.

A preview

I have not fallen off the side of the planet. We were in Niagara Falls last week (see preview shot of the gorgeousness from our hotel room). We got home Saturday evening, and spent Sunday unpacking and settling back into home. I also had to scramble to finish an assignment for my online class and T promptly decided to get sick. For the past two days, he’s had a fever up to 102 F, headache and sore throat. The pediatrician says it is a virus that should pass in a few days. Still, T alternates between sleepy and cuddly at the end of his ibuprofen and fairly normal when he’s medicated. I’m hopeful that normal life (and blogging) will resume tomorrow. Until then.

Family lore

We are headed up to Niagara Falls bright and early tomorrow morning, where we will meet my Dad and Lala. They are making a crazy circuit, IL to Alabama to pick up my grandmother. Then they are driving to upstate New York, where they are dropping Grandma for her 60th high school reunion. Finally, they'll head up to Niagara Falls to spend a few days before making the circuit in reverse.

When Dad told me about their big road trip, he told me that they were going to "Podunk" to drop Grandma. It made me smile. You see, when I was about 15, my family took a road trip to visit my grandmother in the sleepy town in upstate New York where she lived. To hear my Dad tell it, as we rolled in, he heard me say "Welcome to Podunk" in the way that only a teenager can. To this day, that story gets retold, and we all still refer to the town as Podunk.

I love family lore. I love the stories that get retold, the phrases that get reused and the pictures that capture a fleeting moment. When my sister was 4 or 5, my Mom was making her a sandwich for lunch. What did she want? "Ham," my sister replied. Did she want cheese? "No, Ham." How about lettuce, mustard, mayo? "Ham," my sister replied, until finally (and now famously) she said, "Ham, I just want HAM!"

I wonder what those stories will be for our little family? What stories do you retell?

A big man update

I gave you the F update a few days ago. Today it's T's turn. My big man is 3 and a quarter years old. What's he up to these days? Let me tell you.He melts my heart on a daily basis. Last night during prayers he told me that Jesus slept in his ribs. He also tries to throw himself into my lap many times during the day. He's a big hugger and a mouth kisser (I guess someday we'll have to get him out of that habit ... but not today).

He is having a hard time sharing us with his baby brother. Even though I make it a point to spend some mommy and T time everyday, he still just doesn't like having to share. Swimming lessons have actually been very nice, because it's just been about him.

And speaking of swimming lessons, T was the only kid in his class to go down the 6 foot water slide today. Most of the kids were anxious or sad. Not T. Nope, he climbed right up, slid down, swam to the edge of the pool and said "Again, Mommy!" He's a daredevil, my big guy. We're working on channeling his energy, enthusiasm and intelligence for good.

He's bossy. I know you're shocked by that, given who his mother is. I have to tell him to mind his own business or "let their mommy be in charge of them" several times a day. It's funny and a little strange to hear myself parroted by a 3 year old, "Rocks are not toys!"

He's an eater. Breakfast is usually a yogurt, piece of fruit, toast or waffle and lately, a piece of cheese. Most mornings he's "stiiiilllll huuuuunnnngggggrrryyyy" after all that and eats more. Sometimes I think he just wants more to eat because it tastes good, so I'll say something like "well, if you're still hungry, you can have some veggies." Then he shocks me and eats the veggies. Of course, sometimes he doesn't. We had a conversation the other day that went a little something like this:

T: I'm still hungry. I'd like a treat!

Me: No treats, you didn't finish your lunch.

T: Oh. I guess I'm full then.

He tries really hard to be a good big brother. He likes to push F in the swing, make him laugh in the car and bring him toys. Of course, he also likes to get in his face, take away his toys and irritate him in the car. Baby steps.

He still wants to be just like daddy. Ry is unequivocally his favorite person on the planet. He wants to ride with Daddy, sit with Daddy, change the cat box with Daddy, mow with Daddy. You name it, he wants to do it with Daddy.

He and I have reached a really good place in our relationship though. I think we're going to emerge from the terrible twos (and new brother period) with grace. The other day he got up from his nap and chose to cuddle on my lap instead of Ry's!

He loves to play "I Spy." Here's how he plays: "I spy, with my little eye ... the TV!" It's kind of the same way he plays hide and seek. "Mommy, where am I? I'm in the closet! Hahahahah."

He's wise to risk/reward. He generally gets asked/warned once. The second him, he gets asked/warned with a consequence (I will take the toy away if you don't stop using it to brush the cat). The third time, he gets the consequence. Lately he's started asking "What will happen if I don't?" So far, the consequence has been a big enough motivator. I'm just waiting for the day when he'll ask, consider, and then say, "Worth it!"

The long and short of it is that we have an interesting, creative, high energy little boy. He's a joy. And a pain. Mostly a joy. And I love him more than I can say.

Popsicles fix everything!

This week T is taking swimming lessons. Every evening for an hour, he and I are donning our swimsuits and taking instruction from a crazy old lady, who frankly, reminds me a lot of my grandmother. She is a no-kidding kind of swimming instructor who had us dunk our dear ones under the water dozens of times the first day. There was much crying and shrieking and pleading to leave the pool. To be honest, I almost took T and left about halfway through yesterday's lesson.

I'm glad I didn't. Toward the end of the lesson, Crazy Patty noticed that T kept his eyes screwed shut every time he went into the water. She suggested goggles. Goggles were procured and the change was almost instantaneous. While he still wasn't a huge fan, it didn't take two people to pry his fingers from my bathing suit. After our lesson was over, Crazy Patty and her assistants passed out popsicles. Well. All of a sudden, all was forgotten. When we talked to Ry on the phone later (he's out of town again), T raved about how much fun he had.

I kept pumping T up for the rest of the evening and all day today. "Remember how brave you were to go under the water?" "Want to practice humming with me?" Humming helps the kiddos to keep their mouths closed and air coming out their noses. "Are you excited to go swimming again today?" And I prayed. I prayed that I hadn't made one of those huge parenting mistakes. You know the ones I'm talking about? The ones that leave your child forever afraid of the pool. Then I figured, in for a penny, in for a pound.

And so back we went. We had a rough start again, but goggles in place, T soon realized he could go under the water, see everyone swimming around and come up sans water in his nose. Fifteen minutes in, he was asking to go underwater with me. He swam under water and grabbed rings from the bottom. He jumped off the edge of the pool. And jumped and jumped and jumped. To be honest, he's a jumping-off-the-edge-of-the-pool junkie. We laughed. We giggled. And T didn't want to leave. Until Crazy Patty brought out the popsicles, of course. Apparently, popsicles fix everything.

And thank God for that.

Do you see it?

Do you see it? Do you see it?It is F's one and only tooth! He's gummy no more. He's also so cute I could just eat him.

What's he doing these days? Well I'm glad you asked. He's sort of scooting backwards. That makes him pretty mad, because he's desperately trying to go forwards and put whatever delectable looking toy he can find into his mouth.

He's also making a lot of "ma ma ma ma" sounds. It makes my heart sing, even though I know he doesn't know what he's saying.

He's finding his big brother to be hilarious.

He's a jumping fool in the jumperoo.

He's not afraid of a little water in his face, which is a good thing when he takes a bath with his big brother. I'm hopeful that having a little water poured over his head isn't going to be the tragedy it so often is with T.

He's sleeping through the night! Most nights he sleeps from 8 pm to 6 am. Then he's usually up for the day, but sometimes he'll go back to sleep and let me get another delicious 45 minutes of sleep.

He's doing OK with a sippy cup. We're getting there, but he's still a lot more interested in using it as a teether than actually drinking anything. That said ...
He's eating like a champ. This is the remnants of lasagna dinner the other night. He'll eat just about anything I put in front of him. That includes lasagna, green bean, tortilla, cucumber, and chicken.

He's pretty perfect.

Window Display

Window Display

This made me laugh so hard. I'm totally duct taping our kids to the windows.

Long long summer

It just hit me this week that I have a whole summer ahead of me with no preschool in sight. Granted, we're traveling a lot and we'll have Ry's mom and Cathy here for most of July, but there is still a lot of summer left. I have to figure out what to do with two boys for 5 days a week. T's preschool wasn't long; only 2 hours twice a week. Still, those hours preserved my sanity some weeks.

The good news is that it's summer and I can always default to the park. I also have good friends who also have kids T's age. (Aside: For whatever reason, I hate referring to them as mom friends or mommy friends. It makes it seem like they are defined by being a mommy. Anyway. I digress).

I know it shouldn't be a burden to take care of my own children blah blah blah blah. But you know what? Sometimes it is! Sometimes I just need an hour or two without someone asking me a question every 10 seconds or kneeling over a 3-year-old's naked bum pointed to the sky (That's enough flushing, T). Sometimes I need to feel like my life isn't all about cleaning the house, preparing meals, pushing endless swings and grocery carts while trying to inject a little learning into the day (Is Daddy a he or a she? How many pears are in our bag?).

Alas and alack. Alack and alas. (Aside: Did you know alack is actually a word? I always assumed it was just like "bah" or some other nonsense word. It's not, alack is an interjection used to express sorrow.) Anyway, I was alacking. And alasing. And generally hoping for Mary Poppins to fly through my window a few times a week. Well, that would be sort of creepy. I hope Mary Poppins comes knocking on my door a few times a week.

Alack. No knock.

Trying desperately not to laugh

Today T was sitting on a footstool chatting with me as I nursed F. When he left to pursue another adventure, I put my feet on the footstool. A few minutes later he came in and told me to move my feet. I told him that he left and now it was my turn to use the footstool. Plus, he hadn't asked me to move in a polite way. He turned to hit my feet, thought better of it and then said "I'm going to saw you in pieces!" He "sawed" my legs to bits and left the room. A few moments later he came back in the room and said "Mommy, may I please use the chair?" After he sat down, he fixed my legs "fix fix fix fix", and all was once again right with the world.

You can't make this stuff up

Tonight I was upstairs putting F to bed. I heard T start to cry downstairs. I gave it a minute, since sometimes he decides to crank up the drama before bed. When it didn't stop immediately, I started worrying that he got sick or hurt himself. I put F in his crib and ran downstairs. This is the conversation that followed:

Me: What's wrong baby?

T: I want my booger back!

Me: ...

T: I waaaaannnttt my booooooooger back!

Me: Are you kidding me?

T: No.

Me: You're crying over a booger?

T: Yes, I want my booger back!

Me: That is a ridiculous reason to cry. Why in the world would you want your booger back?

T: I want to put it back in my nose!

Me: Babe, once it's gone, it's gone. You can't put a booger back in your nose.

T: Oh.

To teach or not to teach

If you've spent any time around T, you know he loves to talk. I always joke that it took him two years to start talking, and we haven't been able to get him to shut up since.

Since he's only 3, he has only a loose grasp on lots of grammar and semantics rules. He has a particularly tough time with gendered pronouns. Basically everything is a he or him or boy for T. For a long time I ignored it, figuring he'd eventually catch on. Recently however, he's gotten some startled looks from people when he asks what that boy is doing or refers to a woman as "he". I know that it's just because he doesn't know any better, but I started worrying that he was giving people a complex.

As much as I hate the idea of teaching him about gender, I have started working with him on men/women, girls/boys/, her/him, and she/he. It's made for some interesting conversations with friends lately. T walked up to a friend of mine the other day and said "You're a she, cause you're a girl." Yes, yes she is.

He also started correcting me recently when I talked about Finley's tooth. "No mommy! Finley has a teeth!" And so I told him that if you have only one, you have a tooth, but if you have more than one you have teeth. Today, that gem came out as "Tooth is one, but lots is teeth!"

I don't know enough about childhood development to know if he'll eventually get it without overt teaching, but the results of our lessons have been amusing at least.