Dear Connor - 4 Years, 1 Month

Dear Connor,
In preschool you made a turkey and the teacher wrote what you were thankful for on yours… Stego. You are thankful for your big, green stuffed dinosaur. I am thankful that you are able to have a big, green stuffed dinosaur to sleep with in your comfy, warm bed in your flannel PJs, with your brother, Mommy and Daddy sleeping close by.

I’m thankful that we have two beautiful children and even more thankful that they are healthy and safe. I think of all of the children in the world, that are hungry, scared or without someone to cuddle them each night before they sleep. I think about the children that don’t to celebrate a holiday with an abundance of food or get to snuggle down under the covers waiting to see what Santa will bring the next morning. I think of all of the children that would be grateful to have one of the toys that’s stuffed under your bed, or just one of the 20 gallons of water we use frolicking in the shower together. We are beyond lucky. We are beyond blessed.

I could probably think about it until I felt guilty, but instead I just do what I can to make the world a better place and hope that in your life you will too. I hope as you get older and you read this, that you pledge to make a difference in someone else’s life. I hope that you are filled with gratitude for all that you have and that you recognize that although you may not drive the car that you want, or be able to have your own bathroom, that just having clean, running water is miracle enough.
I really hope that you find your brother to be less of a nuisance and more of a blessing, even if right now you are constantly fighting. You are so lucky to have a sibling. Someone that knows you better than anyone else in the world and someone that loves you unconditionally. I will always believe that while we were all blessed by bringing Tristan into this world, that it blessed no one more than you because we gave you something that only we could give you… a best friend. Right now he’s a best friend that you can’t resist whacking on the head whenever you walk by and it’s entirely possible that even when you are in your 20’s you’ll still take the occasional tumble together over which TV program to watch, but you’ll always have each other.

I’ve always tried to maintain gratitude for the things that I have, even when things are at their worst and it seems like there is no way out. I really think this attitude has pulled me through the darkest times of my life and has given me a constant, solid appreciation for the life that I’m living.
This Thanksgiving holiday, I’d like you to know that the thing that I’m the most thankful for is my family. I’m thankful for my wonderful husband, my beautiful children and the people that love us all so much. I’ve always been so thankful for something as simple as running water that I can’t even describe the magnitude of blessing I feel for having a son as amazing as you are. I love you.Happy Thanksgiving,
Mommy

Just Thought it was Funny

Jorma and I are watching a Mac commercial for their new "green" computer. Jorma says, "You know, I was just thinking about Mac and wondering how they are going to stay in business. Right now when no one is spending money on anything that's not essential. And there's nothing that's less essential than a MacIntosh."

Death by Whining

Tristan is two years old. At first it was amusing. But now he’s been two years old for a whole two months and the whining thing is killing me. In fact, it’s possible that I’m not recovering from the stomach flu, or that I didn’t have a cold and the stomach flu at the same time. It’s possible that I’m dying a slow and painful death from the whining. That the whining is consuming my soul.
Sure, I know I should do something about it. But there’s nothing you can do… except ignore it. You have to ignore it to prove to him that it doesn’t work. But it’s so. damn. hard. It’s even driving Connor half mad. And when Connor stops turns on heel and yells, “WHAT DO YOU WANT TRISTAN?!” I can’t even scold him for it. Because it’s exactly what I was just about to do. Or just about to want to do. Or just did. It’s a good damn thing Tristan’s so cute.

Ghost Bob

Connor has a friend at school. We'll call him, Bob*. Connor talks about Bob all the time. They play fire-ghosts together on the playground. They see each other in music and in gym. Bob is Connor's best friend. If you just say Bob's name to Connor, his little face will light up and then he'll tell you matter of factly that Bob is his best friend. Jorma and I have a running joke that we'll go to the school and ask about Bob and get the response," There WAS a Bob here... years ago... but he passed away in a tragic accident".

So, when Connor had a birthday party last month, I invited Bob. Since I've never met Bob, but saw his name on the hook across the hall from Connor's room I dropped an invitation to the party in his tote. (The kids all keep a tote or bookbag on a hook with their name at this preschool). I thought this was a genius plan, to meet Bob and his Mommy, but Bob couldn't come to the party because he's in school five days a week and Connor's party was on a Friday. So, I waited outside Connor's class one day until I saw Bob's Mom, ( I know it sounds a little bit like stalking here, but you should see Connor's face glow when he talks about Bob), and went over to introduce myself.

She said that she had called and left a message about the party, but I never received it. She called again to leave her number and suggested that we get the kids together one day. I jumped on the opportunity. Although Tristan naps from 2-4 I was willing to rearrange the nap schedule for a day so that Connor could go to the park with his best friend. But it was raining that day.
When Bob's Mom called on playdate day to see if we wanted to come over, the words were barely out of her mouth before I agreed. No way was I going to miss this opportunity.

I had the kids snacked and dressed in clean clothes. I brushed their hair and wiped their faces. I really wanted my kids to make a good impression... you know, like, they'll set your house on fire, but aren't they cute in their sweaters?

We got to the house and an adorable little boy opened the door. We went in and I watched Connor waiting for the joy to register on his face. But he simply looked at me and said, "Mommy. That's not Bob"
That's right. Not Bob. Because Mommy that knows everything... didn't know to check to make sure there wasn't another Bob at the school. (In my defense I would like to add here that the real name of the child isn't as common as Bob, in fact, I'm surprised there is another with the same name at the school. It's a rather nice name for a little boy... it's just not that common). But I digress.

Bob's mommy, a gracious host, invited us in, laughed it off and then had the boys go and play. For me it was pretty embarrassing and Connor and Bob didn't really play much together. In fact they only started playing together a few minutes before it was time for us to go but neither wanted to stop playing. I liked Bob's mom , so maybe it wasn't a bad thing all together. Maybe Connor will just have two friends named Bob.

* Name has been changed to protect a child that I just met and a child that I've never met, that may or may not be a ghost.

300 Flushes

It's happened again. The stomach flu has come to town. Tristan had it Saturday but never threw up. It was the puddle in the diaper that tipped us off, but it's hard to tell with a 2 year old that has diarrhea if he's really sick or just ate a goldfish cracker that he's pried out from under the fridge. So generally if he's running a fever, we assume the former. This time we know it was the stomach bug that's going around because Jorma and I both got it. At the same time.
Monday evening I was cooking dinner for Amy's family, since she's about to give birth to her second child at any second, no really... and Jorma calls to say he's not feeling well and he's certain it's the ravioli that I made for dinner. I didn't eat the ravioli because Connor and I were going to eat with Amy, but I knew that it wasn't the ravioli mainly because I just knew. And I just knew it was a stomach virus. When Jorma called a couple of hours later to say he was now throwing up and Tristan was loose in the bedroom with him, I knew it was time to get home. Fast.
About that time I started feeling nausea of my own. At first I thought it was sympathy nausea, but then even before I got home I realized it wasn't. The only thing that comes on that fast is a stomach virus.
I made a gallon of Gatorade before I even went upstairs to check on Jorma because I didn't know if I'd be able to make it later. Because I could feel it coming on. Connor rallied for us, putting on his PJs by himself and putting himself to bed. I threw some PJs on Tristan and all but tossed him in the crib.
And two hours later I was puking my guts up. Violently. And then an hour after that. And then another hour after that.
Tuesday the kids stayed home from school, because neither Jorma or myself had the strength to get them there. Jorma and I took turns watching the kids and sleeping and then had "movie night" which is where we convinced the children very early in the evening, that it would be great fun to lay in the bed with Mommy and Daddy and watch Aladdin for the 900th time.
I guess in retrospect it could have been worse. At least Jorma and I were on alternating bathroom, whining and puking schedules. At least with both of us sick, laying in the bed like hound dogs on a porch, delirious with dehydration, we were able to crack a few jokes about how we both were really needing a colon cleanse anyway. Who says we never do anything together?

Dear Tristan - 2 Years, 2 Months

Dear Tristan,
As a parent the first time you experience the terrible twos it can be quite tramatic. You don't know what to do... there is a plethora of information out there. Experts, doctors, even that tell you to ignore the tantrums. And if you look, you can find exactly the same number of other experts or doctors that will tell you that if you ignore the tantrums you can permanently damage your childs precious psyche. Who's right? Who knows? So you have to trust your instincts. My instincts with your brother waffled from ignoring, to comforting. But with you, I guess because I know that it's going to be over soon enough it's easy enough just to step back and observe. And I'm so glad that's the path that we've taken because it's so much less stressful. And sometimes, down right hilarious. Now that your Dad and I are practiced at withstanding the tantrums it's amusing to watch you fall to the floor crying hysterically because you can't have candy corn for breakfast.

When we take you to the park you automatically gravitate towards kids that are your brothers age, not understanding why they don't want to have anything to do with you. You are quick on your feet from years of keeping up with your brother and love to climb. In fact the other day when Daddy took you to the park, he said that you climbed the ladder to the slide over and over all the time singing, "climb the wadder, climb the wadder" to the tune of Ride of the Valkyrie. You do love to sing. You make up little tunes and hum them to yourself as you go about your day. Every night, if I put you to bed, you demand three lullabies. Wheels on the bus, London Bridge and Rock a by Baby.

We are trying to potty train you, but I think that you might not be ready just yet. You are more than willing to pee on the potty each time we take you, but don't quite get the concept of telling us when you need to go. You refuse to poop on the potty crying for a diaper when you need to go, which breaks my heart. I'd rather change diapers than hear you whimper because you want your diaper back on. It reminds me that as much as you want to be a big boy like brother, you are still a baby in so many ways.

You live to irritate your brother. Your Dad says you've had his number since birth and have the supreme ability to push him right to the edge. Sort of the same way that he pushes Mommy and Daddy's buttons just to get a reaction. I often try to get him to translate your words for me. Sometimes it works sometimes it doesn't. The other day you were whining and crying at the same time and kept saying the same word over and over. It sounded like you were saying "ick-tar" so after several times asking what it was you wanted and playing the guessing game which I name random things and ask you if that's what you want, I finally asked your brother what you were saying. He sighed loudly, not believing that I wasn't getting what you were saying and finally said, "MOMMY. He's SAYING ICK-TAR." I'm still not sure what ick-tar actually was, but I think it might have had something to do with ice cream.

Brother loves you, even though you torment him. We love you too, even if you do have temper tantrums because you can't get the ick-tar that you want.
I love you,
Mommy

Pumpkins

It's been 10 days since Halloween and I'm just getting around to posting. I guess I had to wait for the sugar high to wear off. Both of the boys were pumpkins. Really I was hoping we could do something like fireman and dalmation or even use on of the five million dress up pirate costumes we have in the dress up bin, but each time I asked Connor what he wanted to be for Halloween, he'd say, "A scary pumpkin". I tried again and again to give him the chance to pick something else, but he stuck to his story.


I thought that I'd just jet over to the local costume
shop and grab a couple of pumpkin costumes,
(beause of course little brother wants to be the same thing that big brother is) but imagine my surprise when I found that the only pumpkin costumes that are available, are for smaller children. The children Connor's age all want to be Jedi or skeletons so pumpkin costumes in his size... are only to be found on the internet. Truly the idea of just ordering a pumpkin costume is appealing until you figure in the shipping costs and realize that it may or may not be here for Halloween. And spending over $50.00 on something that might arrive the second week of November just not going to work for me.

So I went to the local craft store with 20 bucks and a little determination and wound up with a couple of costumes that were kinda of a pain to make but looked oh so cute on the kids. And the homemade factor was fantastic. At first I was a little sad because the costumes might look a little bit wonky because they weren't made in China, but they ended up being pretty damn cute. Once we wrapped a green glow stick around the stem on their hats they were set to trick or treat. Jorma took them out trick or treating and I sat with the neighbor and gave glow bracelets to all of the little goblins that stopped by. The boys racked up the candy which was promply "taxed" by mommy. Then they gorged for three days after which they picked 10 treats each and then left out the rest of their candy for the halloween witch. The halloween witch took the candy and left a toy for the boys. I'm not sure that the boys appreciate the Halloween witch, but I think the people that work with Jorma are probably quite fond of her.