Dear Tristan - 2 Years, 1 Month

Dear Tristan,
You've finally decided that you love school. Two days ago when you went in you saw your teacher in the hallway and went running, pell-mell, tumble-bumble, full speed ahead. There is nothing cuter than you running with your arms swinging all around you and a smile on your face. I saw your teachers face light up when she saw your smile and I know for sure, your super power is sweetness and light.

You have a sense of humor too and I just love it. You love to laugh but even more, you love making other people laugh. We are a pretty happy family as it is, but your antics crack us up... even your brother.
You have a natural rhythm and love music and dancing. I've seen many kids dance and most of them look like a monkey on expresso, but you can actually move to the beat. We encourage it too, not only because it's adorable, but because we are always trying to do anything and everything to let you work out that energy so that you will sleep.
I would be remiss if I didn't write at least something about the sleeping habits that you've developed. We took the front panel off of your crib, so that you could get in and out on your own. You do have a bed rail not because we thought that the 12 inch fall from your toddler bed would hurt you in any way, but because you might wake up from it and let the entire house know of your displeasure at say, 3am.

Because you have the freedom to get in and out of your bed at will, you've been experimenting with different areas to sleep in your room. We have a lazyboy chair in your room that we've sat in to rock both you and your brother as babies. This is your prefered place of sleeping. You get your blanket, (still called gankie) and a stuffed animal or two and curl up in the chair for a nap or to sleep for the night. Sometimes you read a book or two until you get sleepy and then just drift off.
Many times you try to crawl behind the chair into the corner and curl up with your blanket to sleep. I wonder if the corner is like a womb because it's enclosed or because you're just that stubborn. It does look cozy with you all curled up there, purple dinosaurs and all.

There is something else that I feel is necessary to mention and it's this, you can say either Mama or Daddy for 10 solid minutes, each word perfectly spaced apart so it sounds like a metronome. You do this because you know for sure that either Mommy or Daddy will turn around and ask what we can do for you. Anything to make it stop. It doesn't mean that you are going to get the cookie that you are demanding, in fact it's more likely that you won't and will deciding that your metronome method won't work that you'll try the tantrum method instead. And if the tantrum method won't work, you'll resort to throwing whatever is next to you or hitting your brother.
You are definately proving that you are fully immersed in the terrible twos... it's a good thing you're so damn cute.
I love you,
Mama

Just Finished Reading

The Road, Cormac McCarthy
This is a beautiful and tragic piece about a father and son traveling across the country in the wake of total global melt down. If you read this book, I promise no matter how bad your day is... you'll realize it could be much worse.
I'm trying to get the husband to read it now because I'm dying to talk to someone about it. I'd highly recommend it if you are between books and are looking for an intense read about total and complete devastation and the spark of hope and love. And then shoot me an email and let me know what you thought... and if you were ready to re-pack your survival bags too.

Dear Connor - 3 Years, 11 Months

Dear Connor,
I don't remember what time of day this picture was taken, but because you are watching television it must be around 9am. You and brother don't watch a whole lot of television mostly because, (and remember this when you have children of your own)... if the TV is on all the time, it won't work when you need it to. If I don't turn the TV on all day and then turn it on at 5pm when I'm starting dinner, you'll be glued to it. But if the TV's been on all day long, you're glued to me instead.
When I came into the living room to check on you and your brother, you had the chair propped up and were watching television. When I asked you to put the chair down on it's feet you looked completely baffled. And then of course you told me no. Then I said, yes and then we fought about it and then I took it away and you cried and then your brother started crying just because he thought he should help you out and I wheeled the chair back into the office wondering why everything has to turn into complete chaos.



In early September Grammy Kathi came to visit and oh did we have fun. The city we live in was holding a end of summer festival giving us a full afternoon and evening of entertainment. This was the first time that you've ever ridden a carnival type ride by yourself and you weren't as impressed as I thought you'd be. What you can't see in this picture is how you spent the entire time you were on this ride, turned around, chatting up the chics behind you.




Your first pony ride. Maybe by now you know how much Mommy loves horses and always wished for one. Mommy still wishes for one and believe me if we lived out in the country you would have one, but we don't so you'll have to settle for the ponies at the fair for now. You seemed completely unamazed by the pony ride while I walked next to you in a circle, with a large lump in my throat as you rode your first horse.



Daddy took this picture at the same festival right after you rode the pony. The sky opened up and all of a sudden the rain started to fall in drops as large as grapes. We took cover under the awning of a fudge tent where you Dad felt obligated to purchase at least one piece of candy. We all shared it and then after determining that we really weren't staying dry anyway, we sent you and your brother out to play in the rain. Truthfully, I think for the both of you, it was more fun than the ponies.

Near the end of our trip to the festival I rode the carousel with you one last time. In between waves at Daddy, I turned to look at you. You're belly was full of cotton candy, chicken on a stick and funnel cake. Daddy stood on the sidelines holding the Sponge Bob that he won for you while playing a water gun game. You were damp from playing in the rain. Just by looking at your face I could tell what you were feeling and it was total and complete happiness. I don't mean that you were just smiling and looking around. I mean you were so happy that it radiated from the depths of your soul. I felt it. It touched me and was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.
I love you,
Mommy

Dear Tristan - 2 Years Old

Dear Tristan,
A few days ago, you were standing next to me while I rummaged through the pantry and I offered you a graham cracker. You literally threw yourself onto the floor, across my feet and started a tantrum that lasted for about ten minutes. I at first was completely baffled. So baffled in fact that I just stood there for a few minutes trying to figure out what that was all about. Then I remembered that you are two years old. I picked you up, put you onto the sofa and then ate the graham cracker myself. That’ll teach you.In your defense I’d like to point out that the next day the stomach virus you were carrying emerged and I realized that maybe that might have had something to do with it as well. Sometimes, it’s just hard to tell.




For your (and your brothers) birthday Papaw and Nana got you a pint sized table and chairs. You love it so. Every day you go in and sit at your table and look at your books, pointing to the pictures of things that you know and saying them to yourself softly. It’s the sweetest thing ever.
I tried singing to you on your birthday several times but each time I got to the second line, you would put your hand over my mouth and say, “Sto” which is the way that you say stop. After Daddy came home and we had your mini birthday party you were so distracted by the cake that was being moved in front of you that you allowed me to sing without protest. And when we asked you to blow out the candle, you did it like you’d done it a thousand times before. I always knew you were an old soul.
You are getting into dinosaurs and are really starting to dig your crayons and paints. You are like Zorro with an ink pen and I have to confess to sitting down and crying one day last week when you took a permanent marker to the sofa in the playroom. The stain guard that’s on it can handle anything… except that. I was only out of the room for a minute… ok ok, it was four minutes… but not a minute more. I’m sure that you don’t harbor any guilt from it, which is just as well since it’s my fault for not moving the pens out of the child proofed drawer. The child proofed drawer that I caught your brother teaching you how to open. You see, your brother wants you to open that drawer. In fact, he encourages it, because he enjoys seeing you in time out. In much the same way that you enjoy doing something and then pointing at Connor and blaming him. If a complete stranger saw the two of you in a room together, they wouldn’t doubt for a second that you were brothers.


You’ve started school and we were lucky enough to get the same teacher the Connor had for you. We love her and so do you. The first few times you were dropped off you were just fine, but since have decided that maybe it’s not that great after all and that you’d rather be with me, asking where your brother is every fifteen seconds for the next four hours. As we approach the door you begin crying, but I know as I’m slipping away that I’ll soon be forgotten as you make paintings with golf balls and sing songs about wheels on buses and blind mice. When I come to retreive you the smile that awaits me is so full of joy that it was worth listening to the tears, just to see you so happy that I've come back. I'll always come back.
Happy Birthday Sugar Bear,
Mommy

Feed Me Free

For some reason I stumbled onto the Oprah site recently and found this article. It involves a 21 day body cleanse eliminating all meat, dairy, alcohol, caffine, sugar and gluten and I've decided to try it. Since quitting smoking, I've gained 15 pounds despite working out 2 or 3 times a week. I'm in the same clothes, so it means that as I'm gaining muscle and losing inches, I'm also gaining fat to take it's place and I thought maybe the body cleanse might be just the thing to jump start my metabolism again.
I'm on day 2 today and I'm already doubting my wisdom in this endeavor. Why am I doing this again? I'm looking for the extra boost of energy and clarity that is supposed to come from a body cleanse. I want to see if removing these things from my diet really is magical. Or just a bunch of hype. From day 2 I can tell you that the only thing that would be magical so far is a soy or rice milk cheese that doesn't taste like well, for lack of a better term... ass.

Currently Watching: The RNC

Ok, first I'd like to say that the baby that is so conviently placed in his Daddy's arms, sleeping, has got to be Benedryl-ed, (at best). Second, I'd like to ask where is the Palin family nanny? Why is the baby even THERE? Quite honestly if the baby can't be away from the parents during the RNC, this VP thing might end up to be a little bit of a hassle. I mean, not right away, because everyone loves a baby, but ya know, around the terrible twos it might make press conferences a little more difficult. But then again, maybe the Shew-ee in the Palin baby's diaper is just the tension breaker we need during Middle East peace talks.
And NO I DID NOT just see her 5 year old daughter, licking her hand and smoothing down her 4 month old brothers hair. OMG that grosses me out. I hope she didn't have curry for dinner. Would someone please come and take this baby put him in a quiet room with his blankie before his Ambien wears off? Poor little bitty.

Dear Connor - 3 Years, 10 Months

Dear Connor,
We took our last beach trip of the Summer a few weeks ago and you had a blast. You were almost fearless in the surf this time and kept demanding to remove your floaties so that you could swim on your own. You want to do what the other kids are doing and if they aren't swimming with floaties on, by God neither are you. Several times we fought over this. Mommy always won.

You throughly enjoyed chasing the seagulls this time and weren't at all weirded out by them following you around the beach after you had donated handful after handful of organic gingersnap bears to them. Only the best for the gulls at our beaches.

We visited the NC Aquarium while we were there and several times you touched a stingray as it swam around in the tank and when we visited the touch tank at the other end of the room, the "Touch Tank Teacher" came over and gave you and your brother a private lesson about horseshoe crabs and conch shells. You were very interested in the jelly fish tank but bored by most of the other fishes swimming benignly in their tanks. The sharks were fascinating, but even more exciting because in front of the tank was a large area in which to run and benches that you were able to climb on.

By the end of the beach trip, the day we were supposed to leave actually, you were laying under your bed, crying because I wouldn't bring your other flip flop in from the car. You had had enough. That might even be something that's quite reasonable if it was way past your bedtime, but it was 10 o'clock in the morning. We ended up leaving a few hours earlier than we thought we might.

On the trip home, you determined that you really liked David Gray and wanted to hear several of the songs on the album again and again. Just for future reference that album is called, Life in Slow Motion and the songs that you love are tracks, 6 From Here You Can Almost See The Sea, 7 Ain't No Love and 8 Hospital Food. It just so happens that those are the best songs on the album in fact. Quite honestly for the beginning of your life, I thought maybe you didn't get the music gene, but now realize that it was just a bit delayed.

Now that I've reburned a copy of Pearl Jam's 10, to listen to in the car (after wearing out 2 CDs since it's release in the 90's) you've developed a liking for it and I have to confess that when I ask if you want to listen to music in the car and you demand Pearl Jam I couldn't be prouder. I'm sorry I lost faith. I should have remembered that I was the same Mommy that took you to the Dr. when you were a year and a half old because I was concerned that you weren't speaking on schedule, only to hear you with a five year old vocabulary at three years old and I hope you never stop talking to me.
I love you,
Mommy

Watermelon

Carolina Anole

I love macro photography. It gives the viewer a chance to see things that the naked eye may not usually recognize. I'm not sure that this qualifies as macro photography and I wish that the focus was a little bit sharper, but this little guy lives on the front porch at the beach house.

Donkey Tail

Picture of the Day

Better Than Ducktape

Picture of the Day

Penis Envy

When I announced that I was going to go up to the beach, a five and half hour drive with the boys... leaving Jorma at home for his own mini vacation from us all, I questioned my own sanity. I mean, what woman in her right mind would drive that far- alone with an almost 4 and almost 2 year old. Was I mad?
I guess mad isn't the word, but more desperate. I was desperate to give the boys a little more of the Summer to run and swim and play before the start of pre-school. I was equally desperate to have a little peace of mind myself. The trips to the beach are never easy, in fact it's pretty much the same amount (if not more) work than it is when we are home, but the boys are busy the entire time which means they aren't fighting with each other... or me. I like that.
The trip up could have gone either way. It could have been a five and a half hour slice of hell, or it could have been just fine and guess what? It was just fine. The boys snacked the first hour, slept for the next two and watched a movie for the two after that. They were perfect. No fighting, no yelling and even no whining.
We only stopped once and it was about 20 minutes from the beach house. The only reason that we stopped then was because I desperately needed a cuppa coffee to push me through for the rest of the evening. We pulled through a coffeeNdonut shop where I got the largest iced coffee imaginable and then pulled over so that I could give the boys the sippy cups, toys and blankets that they had tossed on the floor during the drive. Once I got them situated and put another movie in, I buckled myself back into the car, threw it into reverse and heard Connor say, "Mommy, I need to go to the bathroom".
Now Connor likes to see a bathroom, any bathroom. If we are in a new store the first thing he wants to do is go to the bathroom. He's likes playing in the different soaps and trying to work the different faucets... and the paper towel dispensers that are motion activated, well, to him those are a 1.5 foot piece of Disney. My point is that often it's difficult to tell if he really NEEDS to go, or merely wants to go investigate the soap dispenser. And we are only 20 minutes away from our destination.
"Can you hold it", I ask. It's not that I mind taking him in, but taking him AND little brother in... but, since Tristan is getting a little to large to be held it's sometimes, challenging.
"No", he says, "I can't"
"Are you sure?", I ask hopefully.
"I'm just going to hop out and pee in the parking lot" he says matter of factly. (As if he can get out of his seatbelt by himself)
"ok", I say, "we'll go in". But as I'm turning off the car and dreading the extra 30 minutes that I've just added to the trip, I spy a juice bottle on the floorboard of the car. A light bulb goes off.
"Do you think you can pee in the juice bottle?", I ask him. He nods.
I unscrew the cap and reach around, unhooking his seat belt. In a flash his pants are down and he's peeing into the bottle, like he's a professional truck driver. It's a victory. No going inside of the coffee shop. No unbuckling little brother or fighting about why we can't have another donut on the way out of the coffee shop. I feel free.
Do you know what this means? It means that we've just simplified the road trip. We can travel! Cross country! To the Grand Canyon! Without having to stop every hour to pee!
How awesome is that? Cal-a-forn-ia here we come!

Ride 'em Cowboy

This is a little photo series that shows how well our children treat guests at our house... (and maybe displays just a little of how they feel about Larry too)

Dear Tristan - 23 Months

Dear Sugar Bear,
In one month you'll be two years old and while I'm starting to see the wish for independence that comes with that age, I'm not seeing as much of the attitude that most other children develop. We kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Some sort of indication of the hell that we would be suffering as we guide you through your second year of life. Not to say that you aren't an active child, but having true curtain climbers, we do active well in this house, it's the sheer defiance that I was dreading. Because everyone knows that I'd love to say, "Because I SAID SO!" an additional 50 times a day.



I'm planning another beach trip for us before the summer is out because I want you and your brother to have one last week of doing nothing but, eating, sleeping, running and swimming. Because you both nap well during the day and sleep well at night, it seems like when we are there, everyone is happy, healthy and relaxed. Now if we can just get over that fear of being in the water. I'm all about you having a healthy respect for the water, but worse than that is the sudden fear you developed of any shower at the beach house. I'm not sure if this is because the water irritates your skin or because you were traumatized once when you and your brother were showering together (at the beach house) and he tackled you, taking you both down. No one was hurt but it scared everyone, including me who had a firm grip on your arm the entire time.


In the Fall you'll begin preschool. I think it's going to be a fantastic experience for you to get to play with other children without your brother around. You have the same teacher that Connor had his first year of school and we couldn't be happier. She's everything a preschool teacher should be, complete with bluebirds and fairies, singing around her aura. I'm not nearly as apprehensive about you starting school as I was when your brother started. Just because, I know you are going to love it that much. As soon as you stop crying at the door for me to come back... but Mommy comes back, always.
I love you,
Mommy

Dear Connor - 3 Years, 9 Months

Dear Connor,
How can I explain to you how amazing it is to watch you grow from baby, to toddler to little boy in such a short time. When I see you laying down or sitting, your gangly legs spread out before you, I'm struck by how quickly you are growing up. Often when I look at baby pictures I'm equally struck by how quickly I've forgotten how little you were. I still curl you up into my lap which sometimes leaves me with a feeling of desperation as I cling to your body holding you, until you wiggle down or start bouncing hoping that I'll throw your 36 lb self up into the air.


You had a great time at the beach. You swam in the surf with Daddy and swam in the Sound by yourself like a little fish. You were so worn out by lunch that it was no problem to get you to take a nap every day and I found myself with a couple of hours of alone time each afternoon. Now I'm finding myself missing the beach because you and your brother are both bored to tears, some days literally. Not to worry you'll be starting pre-school again, soon enough... but this time brother will also be attending. Oh what will I do with all of that extra time?!

You and your brother fight just as much as you play together. It's difficult to put you into time out, because your brother comes and sits with you and the two of you end up playing together. If I put you into time out, more often than not, I end up having to hold your brother for the three minutes that you are sitting out so you get the full effect.

There is nothing that I love to hear more than you and your brother playing together shrieking with laughter. I get to hear it every day and it makes up for the fact that no matter how much fun the two of you are having, I know within the next few minutes, someone is going to be in tears. Not necessarily because someone has intentionally hurt the other, but more often because in the excitement of chasing each other around the living room, someone has tripped over a shoe and hurt themself.

Your vocabulary is amazing. So much so that often when you speak to complete strangers they gush about how well you communicate after they've found out how old you are. Sometimes because of this I talk to you like you are 20 instead of 3. You always looks up at me with your big brown eyes, filled with such understanding that I'm sure I'm getting through to you. I'm sure that you are going to look back up at me and say, "I'm sorry about that Mama, I forget that toothpaste isn't for finger painting. I don't know what craziness possessed me" But it never happens. Then I look down at your gangly little legs and remind myself that one day, I'm going to miss all of this.
I love you,
Mama

Dear Tristan - 22 months

Dear Tristan,
A few weeks ago, we took a trip up to the beach. We rode in the car with Papaw and then Daddy came up a few days later, when Papaw had to leave to go back to work.
You can’t help but get up at 7am when we are on vacation. You wake up and instead of going back to sleep like you do at home, you get so excited because we aren’t at home, that you just can’t help but stay awake.

The first morning that you woke up at the beach house, you climbed out of the pack and play and then launched yourself into the hallway at full speed shrieking with laughter; only to freeze and realize that you had no idea where you were. You cried hysterically for a minute but as soon as you saw me, you came to your senses and demanded that I bring you juice and tell you where your brother was at.

Finally, a trip to the beach and you weren’t trying to put the entire beach in your mouth!
You were fearless in the surf at the beach but apprehensive at the Sound which is where we spent most of our time. Going to the Sound was more like a vacation for Mommy than the beach was so we spent a lot of time there. At the Sound, I didn’t have to spend the entire time with my heart in my throat, watching you like a hawk, lest the ocean try to take you. You were able to play in the waters edge, collecting shells and after the third day of the trip, intermittently crying because you were completely exhausted from the excitement of the previous three days.
Papaw has the house set up nicely for guests under 4 years old. There’s a tire swing in the back and a baby pool that can be filled with freezing cold well water. And truly I think it might have been just as fun as playing at the beach for you and brother both.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the fact that you are speaking in short three word sentences or that you have amazing agility and are able to climb anything. You’ve started retaliating against your brother and at times just randomly jump on him, hitting. The first few times we pretended like we didn’t see it as you’ve taken enough abuse from our eldest. But since we’ve had to break it up and put you in time out. But you’ve also discovered that you have a super power. You use those three word sentences to come up and say, “mama, ca-na, hit!” and then burst into tears as if you were hurt. More often than not, this is true, but there have been several times that I’m sure Connor has been completely innocent.
My personal favorite of all of your new skills is one that I think will serve you well in life. You are developing a sense of humor. You get a good laugh out of funny sounding words and there’s nothing that cracks you up more than pointing to your brother and yelling TIME OUT! It’s certainly not funny to him, but it makes you laugh every time. You love a good joke, a mild scare or a tickle. I’m so glad that your sense of humor is developing… you’re going to need it growing up in this family.
I love you,
Mama

Larry said

I keep threatening to post one of Larry's comments as an actual blog entry because they crack me up. Here's what I mean.

"It's a pity you joined the Everdream C2 crowd a bit late. I remember having one hell of a time playing Quake II on the LAN Jorma had set up in the temp building. "Training Class", I think it was called.Being geeks, we all downloaded our own avatars and, while Jorma went on and on about Element K, *thunk*aaaaqqqqzzzxxxxxccccxxdddddd...*Oh, sorry, fell asleep on my keyboard.ANYWAY, while we were supposed to be learning all about how Ben Stein sound-alikes are a bad idea at 7AM, we would be running about in some hellish ruined cityscape, fragging each other. (Heh, that sounds *so* wrong.) My avatar was Starscream. And just as in Transformers: The Movie, Starscream always died most horribly. My FPS skills... not so hot. Good times nonetheless.Congrats on joining the Wii crowd. One of us! One of us! One of... yeah, we ought to get our Smash Brothers on soon. We can play online, and there will be much greatness. I promise to play Peach. Ask Jorma what "Playing Peach" means. Hint: Frying Pan to the face, followed by golf club = gaming joy.As far as the WEED comment goes, I think you may have just found a way to er, mellow Connor out. Heh heh. Mellow.(Please don't arrest me)."

Monster Spray

I just created this label to put on the clear bottle that I bought at Target today. While I realize that Connor can't read, he definately notices labels and can spot an M&M logo from 750 feet away. So, I thought if I was going to pull off the monster spray I'd better not half ass it.
This idea was donated by our pediatrician, who Connor informed immediately upon seeing, that there were monsters in his room. She said, that monsters are very common between ages 3 and 5 and loudly suggested that we pick up some monster spray. She went on and on about how great it was at getting rid of monsters and Connor has not forgotten it.
Tonight when we roadtripped over to Target to attempt to find a swimsuit for me, (that's a completely different post all together), he kept reminding me that we needed Monster Spray. He didn't see me get the bottle, which helps with the covincing. Now I'm going to afix the label onto said bottle with clear packing tape and fill the bottle with tap water, (only because we are completely out of holy water) a few dropps of myrhh and maybe a little sea salt, you know just for good measure. If you have a child that is afraid of monsters, feel free to download the label for your own use. And let me know how it goes for you.

Reason #477, Not to Grow Up

“I don’t want to be a grown up. I want to stay a little boy so I don’t have to wear a tie every day.”

My Fantasy Answering Machine Message

You’ve reach (phone-number). If you are calling for technical support and have not spoken to either of us in the past 8 weeks regarding a non technical issue, please hang up and call someone else. All others please leave a message. Callers offering to watch our children will have their calls promptly returned.

Wii are the Champions

Finally after many days of searching, calling and bugging the crap out of various store clerks Jorma scored a Wii, (pronounced We). He’s in the den now, trying to practice using it, an endeavor that will probably take many years of staying up until 3am on Friday nights, but it looks like it’s going to be great fun. I generally don’t play video games for no other reason than my experience with Quake I, II and then III several years ago, which left me completely addicted and staying up until all hours of the morning while I worked my way through a maze of zombies with a shotgun. Don’t fool yourselves, when it comes to Quake, my skills can only be described as Bad-Ass.
At least working in the IT industry when you show up red eyed with a Big Gulp of iced coffee in hand, everyone understands when you say you’ve been up all night playing Quake. It’s easy enough to pull off an 8 hour work day, explaining to executives with six figure salaries, why they must not ever disable their virus software, when you’ve only had 4 hours of sleep. But that was then.
Since then I haven’t done much gaming. Before we had kids it was because I was busy sleeping at night to prepare for my 50+ hour work week and now that we have kids, it’s difficult to function on 4 hours of sleep.
Our children smell sleep depravation like a shark smells fear and they won’t hesitate to use it to try to drive us mad until they have their fill of cookies, or skittles, something, ANYTHING to make the whining stop. Ah, but I digress.
The Wii looks like it might actually be some fun. One, it requires movement, which I’m into since I quit smoking. At work, there is talk that our HR rep lost 15 lbs just by playing the Wii. Amazing. I’ll have to keep you all posted on whether or not I’m loving it, but prepare yourselves for the Wii jokes that will be invading the blog. Why just yesterday evening, Connor explained to Jorma, “Daddy, you are only allowed to play with your Wii. You and Mommy can play with your Wii but only after Tristan and I go to bed. Ok Daddy? Ok?” Later in the evening, he was following Jorma around yelling, “Daddy, you said you were going to share your WEED with me! Daddy, aren’t you going to share your WEED?!!!!” Look out Child Protective services, here we come.

Dear Connor(3 yrs, 8 mos) & Tristan (21 mo)

Dear Connor and Tristan,

The summer months have gotten busy, so in the spirit of multi-tasking, this month, I’ll be writing a letter to you both. I haven’t gotten our camera fixed and I’m disappointed with the other digital camera enough that I don’t bother taking pictures with it at all. Thus, I won’t have any pictures to post this month, unless I call all of the people that have taken pictures of you and request that they email me those pictures. This may seem like a simple feat, but it’s not, since I would spend anywhere from 3 – 30 minutes explaining how to zip or attach a multiple file to send to me and then spend the next 15 minutes explaining that a bmp is not a desirable file format. All of this occurs of course after I’ve spent 15 minutes fixing their internet connectivity problem.
By the time you are both reading this you will be older and Connor, I give you permission to smack your brother on the back of the head for banging our digital camera into the floor. Then the next time that you both see me, Tristan you may smack me in the back of the head for putting it four and half feet off of the ground, which is apparently accessible to one that is two feet tall if that one is ambitious enough to drag over a chair, climb up onto the desk and grab the camera from the computer monitor.
I’ll give you both this, you are ambitious. And you sure love each other. Tristan, the first thing you say in the morning is “Connor?” You repeat it every 3 minutes until he’s awake. And no, this doesn’t get on my nerves at all after an hour or so. Connor, you show your love to your brother by tackling him first thing, something that makes me a little uneasy, except for Tristan’s squeals of delight.
Connor, you translate for your little brother too. He calls his blanket his “gankie” and you always explain to me that he’s saying blanket… in Spanish. In fact, this week just about anything that your brother has said that’s intelligible you’ve explained that he is speaking in Spanish. Lucky for you this reminded me that I needed to put my learn Spanish in your car CDs into my car so that I could go ahead and start learning Spanish. This is so I can either teach it to the both of you, or learn enough that I can swear at you, venting my frustrations in another language, saving you both from years of therapy. I hope you use the money that you’ve saved to put your Dad and I in the finest nursing home available.
It’s been a busy summer so far. I was hoping on multiple beach trips this year but it hasn’t happened so far. We are working out what we can, but I’m religious about my yoga class which is one of the reasons that we are so busy. Twice a week you go to the child watch, while I get my exercise on in the morning. I’m also working one day a week which leaves us with two days to run errands during the week. One of those is grocery day. The other is OMG where did my week go, I have six loads of laundry to do day, which is also known to the two of you as, Hang Out in the Shower for a Bit and Then Run Around the Upstairs Naked for a While, Day. You wouldn’t think that this is an exciting time for the two of you, but you are both quite fond of it. Once you are finally dressed, (Connor sometimes with three shirts on) you play in Tristan’s closet for a while, closing the door and making a club house, giggling in the dark with your flashlights or finding new and exciting things to climb on together.
Tristan, sometimes you run around with a pair of Connor’s underwear on your head. You think this is hysterical, which amuses me because it actually IS. You’ve seen your brother do it a number of times when a hat wasn’t available to play dress up with and you are happy to follow his example. There is nothing that makes me happier than watching the two of you playing together smiling and giggling and occasionally stopping to hug and kiss each other.
There may be times in both of your lives where you feel like no one loves you. Of course, Mommy and Daddy always love you both more than you would ever know, but never forget how much you love each other. You may fight, you may walk separate paths in life but the kind of love that I see you have for each other, never goes away. No matter, who took who’s, Hot Wheels Car.
I love you both.
Mama

 

Ohm Diggity

Tonight I will attend my 6^th Yoga class and I would like to point out, that I’m still alive. Admittedly, I thought that it would be easier by now, but since then have determined that it’s never easy because you are always trying to reach farther and balance longer and because the extent of my exercise for the past few years has been walks around the block pushing a stroller. That definitely does a body good, but it’s no competition for the core strength that’s needed for some of the Yoga poses.
Some of the poses are getting a little bit easier for me and I like the way it’s making my body feel. I like that when I’m hit in the back of the knees with 30 lbs of running Tristan that I don’t feel like I’m about to go down. Or when my heel lands on a matchbox car at the bottom of the stairs, I don’t strain any muscles trying to right myself. And. For the first time, since high school I can do (modified) push ups. I could probably manage one or two regular push ups, in proper form, but I’m sticking with the modified for now.
I’m still doing Zumba once a week and due to the additional sweating my skin is clearing up. I keep checking the scales because with this much work, something’s got to be happening and it is… I’m gaining weight. I just keep repeating my mantra… muscle weighs more than fat, muscle weighs more than fat.
I’ll be thrilled to get rid of my “lunch lady” arms and would be even more thrilled if the pain that’s resided in my neck for many years goes away. The best thing about it all is that the church where I attend the classes offers child care for a moderate fee. And as you can imagine, I’ll endure any amount of pain just to get a little child free time.

 

Dear Connor - 3 Years, 7 Months

Dear Connor,
Your caterpillars are curled up in their chrysalis, (OMG there is nothing cuter than you saying that word) working hard on turning into moths. We’ve had one moth emerge already and although I tried to explain it to you, better and better each time so that you would get it, you still just look at me, smiling and nodding, waiting for me to stop talking about metamorphosis so that you can ask if you can go play in the hose. Or you talk over me completely, because nothing is more important than playing in the water.

You’ve become timid all of a sudden at swim lessons and I wonder how a child that is so much like a Labrador retriever puppy can be timid around water. Give you 12 ounces of water in a cup and you’ll find some way to entertain yourself for the next 20 minutes, returning into the house beaming and tracking mud onto my clean floors. A bath is a ritual of enjoyment with much negotiation as to when we are getting out of the tub, or shower and when the next time we’ll be getting in will be. You’ll have to pardon me if I don’t take you seriously when you say you are afraid to go to swim lessons.

School is out for the Summer and I’m glad to not have to rush out the door each morning for school and to have you all to myself. This will be the best Summer yet, mostly because you might actually remember some of it, but also because you are old enough to do things that are a little more fun, like Carowinds or the Zoo. We went to the Zoo last weekend, taking a trip to the Columbia Zoo because we’ve heard it’s a better children’s zoo because the animals are easier to see because the habitats are smaller. You did enjoy looking at the animals, but the highlight of the trip for you was most definitely the carousel that you got to ride several times and your first cotton candy experience. Your Dad and I determined that the last time we actually tasted cotton candy was a several decades ago, for us it was a little taste of history.

You are starting to slow down a little. I can now trust you to stand next to me for a minute in the grocery store without pulling everything off of the shelf. Sometimes when I tell you to do something, or ask you to stop doing something else, you actually listen the first time. Un-FREAKING-believable! You can climb a tree and ride a bike. You can hit a ball with a bat and do a front roll. You can go potty by yourself and get your own water from the fridge. You are starting to get the idea of what funny is and sometimes you crack yourself up. Sometimes you crack us up too and I’d like to say that I’m sorry if we don’t laugh at all of your jokes. If you discover that it amuses us to see you running down the upstairs hallway with nothing but a roman soldier helmet on, there’s no telling where it could lead to.
You are learning to manipulate a little more subtly... or what you think it being subtle. I notice that you call me Mama instead of Mommy when you are trying to prove how sweet you are. As in, “Mama, can I have something from the candy box, pppllleeeaaassseee?” You call me Mom nonchalantly as you watch from the corner of your eye when you are bored and trying to push my buttons. I actually don’t like to be called Mom, figuring it won’t be long before you’ll be saying it and you’re brother will be chattering it right behind you. At least let me enjoy the time that I have being Mommy now.

We are planning a beach trip this Summer and I can’t wait to test our your new listening skills. It might even be enjoyable to spend some time with you and your brother in a public place without being stressed out about chasing you both down and keeping you both safe. At least I know that one of you will stay close to me and your brother… well, we can always put him on a leash.

I love you,
Mama

Did it work?

By Golly I think it did. The hypnotism that is. I’ll admit that I smoked a cigarette on the way home from my session because I wanted to see if I was broken. But since then I’ve not smoked and have had much less cravings than usual when I’ve tried to quit.
I’d actually wondered if I could be hypnotized. Supposedly hypnotism is a deeper state than the alpha brain-wave that one achieves during meditation, although it didn’t feel that way to me at all. I have some experience with meditation and it felt like I was at the alpha brainwave with someone speaking to me. I remember everything that was said and feel like I could have sat up and opened my eyes at any moment. There is no way that someone in that state could be talked into doing something that they didn’t want to do… (sorry Hollywood!)
Of course there is the argument that it’s all in my head. That I believe that it worked, or that because I spent the money on it I want to believe that it worked, but the thing is… I didn’t believe it was going to work. I was totally skeptical. I mean, I believe that people can be hypnotized; I just didn’t think that I was one of those people. And now that you know what the process feels like, let me tell you what it feels like now.
It feels like I’ve completely forgotten that I smoke. Like I keep thinking that there is something that I should be going to do, but I can’t remember what it is and then I think, “oh that’s right… I don’t smoke anymore” and I move on. Now, if you were sitting on my porch right now smoking a cigarette, I’d stop typing this immediately and go out and bum one from you, if I could remember long enough that was my intention.
I still have the craving. I still want to eat. I still have bouts of irritability. But for the most part I think I’m done with it. I might have to go again next month to stop eating… but I really feel like I’ll be smoke free.

 

Bock Bock BACOCK!

Most of you know, although some of you don’t, that after quitting smoking for 2 and a half months I started again. I keep procrastinating quitting, but each time I look at the kids, I know I have to. I started taking Yoga last week, hoping that when I do quit it will help me stay focused on healthy habits and keep some of the weight off. I’ve also started Zumba which is a dance step type aerobics, in an effort to get the hell off of the sofa. Now if I could just stop eating.
I was going take the new anti-smoking drug, Chantix but keep reading about possible side effects. I could handle a little bit of nausea but it’s the psychotic episode side effect that has me leery. I’m not prone to depression, (except during pregnancy) so I’m not a likely candidate for that type of side effect, but it’s not something that I really want to risk. Especially with small children in the house.

So, that being said, on Saturday I have an appointment to get hypnotized. It actually costs less than a three month supply of Chantix and truly any amount of money to quit smoking is a savings when you consider the cost of smoking. Two sessions of hypnotism cost roughly about the same as 6 cartons of cigarettes. A bargain!
The hypnotist has a 92% success rate and I’m hoping like hell I’m in that percentage. I believe in hypnotism, I’ve never even once considered that it might be the “devil’s work” and I have no idea why I never thought of it before. Truthfully, I’ve thought about doing past life regression, but never smoking cessation, even though I have friends that have successfully quit long term using the method. I guess I thought it would cost a full year’s salary or something. I really hope that it works for me and I’m looking forward to it. Even if I occasionally cluck like a chicken.

Dear Tristan - 20 Months

Dear Tristan,

This month you are starting to get a grasp on how to win friends and influence people and it goes like this, "hi." You say it to everyone you see and you aren't going to be discriminate about it either. You are so certain those words will bend someone to your will that sometimes when I start to raise my voice to your brother you intervene, leaning in towards me, softly saying "Hi." over and over again. Certainly that will make everyone happy again! Some nights when we put you to bed, I hear you in your crib, saying, "hi" in between fits of screaming. "This screamings not working for me right now... maybe a little bit of cuteness will do the trick".

Little man, you are getting chatty. You constantly amaze us with your ability to remember even the vaguest words. By the time you are two, I expect you'll be speaking in entire paragraphs. Today, when I came home from work, you grabbed my necklace and said, "prettt-tteee" and proceded to put it into your mouth. And no, we're not sick of hearing, " I want dat!" over and over again.

You are still on hunger strike. You've no problem eating a granola bar or anything else with sugar in it, but sneak a vegtable into your mouth and you act like you've been burned, spitting it out and making a ICK noise while you look at us with utter shock and disapproval. How could we betray you so?! I keep putting fruits and veggies on the plate anyway because I know that one day you will shock us all and develop a love for vegetables. In the meantime, each night after dinner I scrape your plate wishing there was some way I could send those scraps to the children around the world that would think the taste of a Mandrin Orange to be a little piece of heaven. Always remember your good fortune.

You've learned to tattle. Now it's hard to tell if your brother really is beating on your or not, because sometimes he'll just brush past you and you'll crouch down and starting crying, "MA-MA!MA-MA!" over and over again like he just kicked you in the head. Or more likely than that, you'll come running, crying and yelling, "MINE! I WANT DAT! MINE!" pointing to the toy that your brother has taken from you. Because you both have this disease that your Dad calls, "You have that I want it". Apparently it's a phenomana that never goes away either. If you're twenty and reading this and don't believe me, pick up some random piece of plastic or some other oddity. Something that looks interesting but should probably be in the trash. Have a conversation with someone while you fiddle with this plastic. Gaze at it with interest while you talk. I bet within the first 30 seconds they say, "What is that?" and in the next five minutes they ask to see it. You have that, I want it.

As much as you and your brother fight though, the two of you LOVE each other. You can't wait to pick him up at preschool and in the mornings if he sleeps in, you stand at the bottom of the stairs, yelling, "CAA_NNAA!" You run around in circles when he first comes downstairs in the morning. You love to wake brother up in the morning also, climbing into his bed and raining kisses all over his face while you whisper over and over, "hi". This morning when you woke him up this way, you laid you head down on his stomach as sort of a hug. He was half asleep and said, "Thank you for the kisses, Tristan. I love you too" And he actually meant it.

I love you,

Mama

Here I am!

I haven’t had much posting time, trying to work and keep up with the kids seems to take up most of the time that I do have. I’ve got a to-do list a mile long and it seems like everyday something else is added. I’ve succumbed to doing things that I wouldn’t normally do, like take both of the kids to the grocery store with me, so that I can manage the time that I do have. Right now, little brother is sleeping and big brother is trashing his own room, (his daily quiet time routine)… but trashing it quietly. I have two loads of laundry to fold, a kitchen to clean and 300 pages of East of Eden to finish reading for book club next week. There are in addition to that 30 other things I could be doing, but today I’m taking a minute to post because I miss writing.

Because when I don’t post to the blog, it makes me feel exactly like I’m putting off calling that far away friend, which just adds another day to the distance.

Dear Connor - 3 Years, 6 Months

Dear Connor,
They say that the age of 3 is harder than the age of 2, but it doesn’t seem that way to me. I think the age of 3 is more frustrating than the age of 2, but at least you are a little more lucid and can be reasoned with.

Except when caterpillars are involved. A couple of days ago, we discovered caterpillars in the back yard. Well, in the yard, on the deck, on the porch and last night in the upstairs bathroom. I picked up one for you to hold and in no time at all, you were attached. Shortly after this, I decided that you were occupied enough for me to go to into the house for a moment, but I left the back door open so I could still hear you on the porch. A minute later I heard a blood curdling scream followed by hysterical crying and ran to the porch to fight the wild jackals that must have snuck onto the porch causing you to scream this way. Instead I found you pointing to the caterpillar that had fallen from your hand to the porch floor, as you sobbed, “MOMMY IT’S GETTING AAAWWWWAAYYY!” I was a little bit confused by this drama, as the caterpillar was about a foot away and moving at a rapid rate of 4 feet an hour, but we picked him up and put him back into the cup that you were carrying around.

This drama happened again and again, each time the caterpillar attempted to climb up the side of his container. You snuck it into the house behind me when I went in to make you a drink. I saw the empty cup in your hand and asked where your caterpillar was. “He’s climbing now.” You said. “Where?” I asked, cringing. You pointed to the kitchen table where the caterpillar was just trucking along the side.
Soon you were begging to be able to keep it in your room and sleep with it. We negotiated hard on this one and ended up making a house from an old aquarium that no longer holds water. After additions of rocks, dirt, moss and sticks I was able to talk you into putting your caterpillar into his new home.

Yesterday, Daddy was outside with you as you collected every caterpillar that you could find. The terrarium that we built now has 21 caterpillars that you feed and mist daily. You tell them goodnight and want to go and visit them first thing in the morning. It’s all so sweet that if I thought I could handle cleaning a cage once a week, I’d get you a hamster or another equally amusing rodent. But it would have to sleep in your room… and those things are nocturnal, you know.

You’ve been going to swim lessons for over a month now and you’re doing great! Daddy takes you to your lessons so I haven’t actually seen you in lesson mode yet, but the reports are that you can hold your breath under water and swim 10 feet. The first time I heard this, I’m not sure if I was more proud that you could do it or relieved that you had learned a skill that could one day save your life. Daddy says that you are an independent swimmer, wary but not afraid of the water. You love the waterslide and the other two boys in your class. Now, if I could just get you to stop asking me every second of the day, “Are swimming lessons tonight?”
I love you,
Mommy

Dear Tristan - 19 Months

Dear Tristan,

Last Sunday, you had your first major injury. I was in your brother’s room looking for pajamas while you and your brother were both running, naked and wild in Mommy and Daddy’s room. Your brother came running into his room, (where I was on the pj search) with a ceramic plate he had removed from the bottom drawer of the sideboard that’s in our room. I told him he wasn’t supposed to be in THAT drawer and fearing immediate time out, he went running off down the hallway, naked, back to Mommy’s room. Following him, I was halfway down the hallway when I heard you scream. I knew before I saw you what had happened. Your brother accidentally smashed your fingers in the drawer in his haste to put the dish back.

It scraped off the top layer of skin and had some bruising, but you pulled your hand out before major damage could be done. And oh how you cried.
After a few minutes of sitting in my lap sobbing, your brother went into hysterics, because he was afraid. At first, he was afraid that he was going to get into trouble, but quickly it was replaced by his fear that you were really hurt, because as he said, “I can’t get Tristan to stop crying!” You were both hysterical. So much so that I had to call in the reinforcement, who was downstairs cooking dinner.
I’ve never seen you really get hurt and although I knew that the injury was minor comparatively speaking, it still freaked me out a little bit. I think it’s true that the second child is tougher than the first, just because of the sheer stamina it takes to keep up with an older sibling.
Usually when you are crying, it’s because a toy was taken away from you or you think I don’t understand that it’s the word, “candy” that you are saying yelling while pointing to the pantry at 8 o’clock in the morning.
You get so frustrated that you can’t verbally communicate with us. Generally you assume that we don’t understand you and repeat the word over and over hoping that we’ll get it. This doesn’t work out so well for you, because after I’ve heard, iwannacookie, fifteen times in a row, I’m definitely not giving up a cookie.
You are slowly starting to try new foods. Very. Very slowly. The other day, you accidentally put a bite of green bean casserole into your mouth and ended up eating all that was on your plate. And the night after that, I think I might have seen you eat a carrot, although you may have thought you were about to ingest a cheese doodle. You’ve discovered peanut butter but still aren’t a fan of milk. If there is something on your plate that you don’t want to eat, you subtlety let us know by holding it out at arms length, waiting until we are looking and then purposefully dropping it onto the floor.

You like dropping things on the floor. You are like a seagull, dropping clams high from the air onto the rocks to retrieve the treasure inside. The treasure in this case, however, are the inner workings of whatever thing you’ve just sacrificed. We had to tape up the back of the remote control because you couldn’t get enough of tossing it on the tile, popping off the back, so that you could play with the AA batteries inside of it. Give you a new toy and the first thing you’ll do after inspecting it thoroughly and tasting every inch is to drop it on the tile.

You are becoming quiet the social butterfly, saying “Hi” to everyone… your family, people at the grocery store… even Papaw and Nana’s cats. When you say “Hi”, your sure to beam and await a response. How could anyone not smile at your cuteness?! I’m not sure if it’s because I’m your mother, but some days you are cuter than a wagon full of baby ducks being pulled by a puppy.

Love,

Mama

 

What a Bad Guy Really Is

Connor and I are watching the end of the Jungle Book before he goes to bed. Shere Khan is on screen slinking through the jungle. “That tiger is a bad guy “, I whisper to Connor. A few minutes later, Connor replies, his eyes glued to the tiger on screen, “Mommy, does he not share?”

 

Dear Connor - 3 Years, 5 Months

Dear Connor,

I’m late in writing your entry this month because we’ve had a lot going on. You wouldn’t think that writing a blog entry has any bearing at all in the realm of parenting guilt, but a Mother’s guilt runs almost as deep as her love. You’ve been pretty grumpy the last month, a fault of mine because I’ve been tending to other things, like working and recovering from each and every virus that you bring to me from preschool.
You’ve decided that you don’t want to go to school, each time arguing with me that you won’t put your shoes on and that you won’t eat your breakfast because you do not under any circumstances want to go to school. I make you go anyway, because we all have to do things in life that we don’t want to do and the sooner you learn that the easier your life will be. There’s something that I want you to know and it’s this… life isn’t fair. In fact, it’s far from fair but facing it head on and making the best of it makes things a whole lot easier.
Part of the reason that you are so grumpy is because you’ve decided that you absolutely will not nap and although the books all say you should have grown out of naps a year ago, you are a kid that still needs mid-day sleep. I’ve succumbed to allowing you to hang in your room for quiet time, which usually isn’t as quiet as it should be, but gives you us some much needed time to rest. Today I went in to check on you, because your brother’s marathon screaming fit involving his refusal to nap was surely making you a little restless and found you laying on your back next to your bed on the floor. You were wearing 7 shirts and two pair of pants and lay with your arms thrown up over your head, sound asleep. At first my heart stopped because you so hate the nap that I thought some tragedy had befallen you, but then you snorted and started snoring softly and I knew it was safe to move you to the bed. I think probably because you had on 7 shirts that it made moving a little more awkward, thus proving my theory that if you’d just freaking be still, you’d pass out and get some rest. I know that you don’t want to miss any of the excitement that happens when you are in your room for quiet time, thus your constant insistence that you have quiet time downstairs, but personally if I had the choice between watching someone mop the kitchen floor and reorganize the pantry or napping, well I’d take the nap every time. Of course, given the choice between a whole lot of things and a nap, I’d probably take the nap, but that’s just me.
You’ll notice that there aren’t any pictures in this entry, but like your brother’s entry there are things that we will never see in a picture.
A picture will never be able to remind me how soft your baby skin or how you can still fit neatly in my lap when you curl up with your head on my shoulder. It won’t remind me of the little boy smell that you are starting to develop. When I walk into your room, it smells like you... a combination of baby lotion, baby skin and old socks. I’ll never hear from a picture how you say softly to me, “I love you, Mommy” and while that’s something that I could record and listen to over and over again, the recording wouldn’t capture the look in your eyes. The one that says you really mean it. That I am of the suns that you revolve around and that you don’t love me less because I haven’t showered in two days or worn make up in five.
A camera could never capture the wide fascination your eyes hold when you see something exciting and new for the first time. How you look at me with amazement and without speaking say, “Are YOU seeing this too Mommy?” And I am, but only because I’m looking through you. Thank you for making sure I remember that everything is amazing, even when it’s something as simple as a bar of glycerin soap with a plastic goldfish embedded inside. My love for you runs deep.
Love,
Mommy

Dear Tristan - 18 Months

Dear Tristan,

There would be pictures of you in this entry, except you climbed up onto the desk, got the digital camera and took it into the kitchen where a few slams against the ceramic tile rendered it useless. But there are things that we can’t see from pictures.
A camera would never be able to capture the way you give kisses, coming in at full speed, pecking with your mouth at whatever is closest saying, “MUH!” each time. It wouldn’t capture that you can’t just give one kiss. Once you are in full motion there are several kisses all in a row. If you decide to climb down from my lap, you are giving kisses the whole way, gracing my wrist, knee and foot as you go.
A camera could never fully show how your baby hair glows golden when the sun streams through the windows of the living room and you sit quietly on the sofa watching Blue’s Clues. You have no idea how beautiful you are.
No one would ever see from a picture, how you run like there is a string pulling you forward by your belly, your arms flapping, a smile on your face, because it feels so good to move. I’ll never see from a picture how when someone else is holding you, you point to me and say, “MaMa!” in a definitive tone, like you are so proud of me.
A picture would never capture your vigorous knee-hugs. The ones where you come barreling across the kitchen throwing yourself onto my legs and if I’m not prepared for you, almost knocking me down. You are little, but getting hit in the back of the knees with 26lbs of hurling toddler is enough to make anyone wobble. Especially one, who is focused with intense concentration, on the pantry trying to determine what can be made for dinner that involves a can of Cream of Mushroom Soup, raisins and bottom of a bag of tortilla chips.
In the mornings you wake up precisely at 7:15. I pick you up, blankie and all and take you back to our bed, curling up around and pretending that you might actually go back to sleep if you see me close my eyes. You try to go back to sleep, because you know that’s what’s intended, but you got your Dad’s wake up gene instead of mine and once you are up, there’s no going back to sleep. I’ll crack one eye, because I have that unmistakable feeling that I’m being watched and find you gazing adoringly at me. It’s usually then that you decide to start unleashing kisses on my face, or exploring my nostrils with your index finger. What? Mommy doesn’t like that? How about the ear? No? Maybe the nostril again.
And that’s how I fully come awake each morning.
On rare occasions you do fall back asleep, snuggling into me with your sweet baby snore. These are the days that your brother wakes up ten minutes later yelling, “MOMMY! I NEED TO GO POTTY! RIGHT NOW!” Because why should he bother getting out of bed when he has a personal chauffer to carry him? I get up and take him to the potty and then pull him into bed with us. Sometimes you and he snuggle up together, tangled in a mess of blankets and the four hundred pillows we keep on the bed. It’s on these days that we lay there like a pile of puppies and I hope that warmth stays with me through the rest of my winters.

I love you,

MaMa!

Just Another Day in Paradise

I’d be posting some really funny pictures. Like the one of Connor today with 11 shirts on at once. He had so much bulk that he couldn’t take any of the shirts off without assistance. I’m not sure how he managed to get them all on. Or lovely pictures, like Tristan today, his blonde hair shining in the sunlight, while he explored the backyard. But last week Tristan got our camera and banged it into the ceramic tile. He managed to give it a few good whacks before I could get to him and now… it’s broken.
This is the point where usually, I would be like, DAMMIT! Now I HAVE to buy a Digital SLR! But since we are still recovering from the past year and I feel like we HAVE to have some sort of something to take pictures of the kids with, or before we know it we’ll have a year with no footage at all. So I guess, although it pains me, we might have to suck it up and have our camera repaired, which bums me out, because it’s a piece of crap anyway and definitely isn’t worth the $200.00 that it will take to fix it. And well, just buying a new one, isn’t much of an option.