A magical Christmas

Ahhhh, what a nice day. Andrew has lived up to the reputation of a 4 year old at Christmas. Thank heavens.

He went to bed last night at 6:30. Yes, 6:30. Since he apparently no longer eats dinner, ever, and he wakes up at 5:30 due to hunger, we have moved his bedtime back. Last night was particularly early, but it works to make a happier child the following day! Andrew actually slept in on Christmas morning. Weirdo.

At 7 am Andrew came into our bedroom and tapped me on the shoulder. He said, "Mom, I went downstairs and SANTA CAME!!!" I asked, "How do you know?" And he said, "Because there are HUNDREDS of PRESENTS." Imagine this phrase said very dramatically with his arms spreading out. Very cute.

We ran downstairs to open all these "hundreds" of presents. Andrew was very patient waiting for the adults to wake up and get their coffee. Probably because I let him eat a cookie for breakfast. He hasn't had many cookies...see the lack of dinner eating mentioned above. But it was Christmas...so of course he got to have some today. (actually, all he's eaten today are cookies, candy, and some sausage from the breakfast souffle. Literally. All he ate. All day.) We started opening gifts, and Andrew was totally excited. He wanted to "help" everyone else open their gifts as well...and he would act all excited as he ripped the paper, but as soon as he saw it was pans or clothes or travel gear he would turn away with disdain and a bit of relief. At least his gifts weren't THAT lame. Lily had a blast opening her gifts...when Andrew let her. She liked all his toys because they were noisy and dangerous for her. He liked all her gifts because he's strange and loves baby toys. At least they were both happy.

After gifts we just kind of lazed around. Andrew never got dressed. We played lots of games and ate lots of junk. About 10 times throughout the day Andrew came up to me and gave me a hug and said, "This is a great Christmas." Melt melt melt.

I hope all of you had an equally enjoyable Christmas!

How much is enough?

I have written about Andrew and his disinterest in Santa. I have written about Andrew seeming to understand the true meaning of Christmas. I have written about how cheap I am. So why can't I stop trying to make Andrew greedy and materialistic this Christmas?



I spent the money I wanted to spend on Andrew this year (about $100) and then went to wrap last weekend. I had 3 gifts from Jeff and I and 2 from Santa. 2 gifts from Santa? What fun is that? He'll have his gifts opened in about 15 minutes. Andrew is already totally apathetic about Santa already. If he brings him 2 gifts, he'll never jump on the bandwagon. So do I give him all 5 gifts from Santa and none from his parents? Ouch. That kind of hurts...why didn't Mommy and Daddy get him anything? So I did what any materialistic parent would do. I went shopping again. That's right...I braved ToysRUs a week before Christmas. Without the children (because Andrew certainly can't be tricked anymore).



So now Andrew will have 3 gifts from us and 5 gifts from Santa and one gift to him and Lily from Santa. And stocking stuffers. And I feel so much better about Christmas now that I have those 3 more gifts. And they are toys, even though he doesn't play with toys much. Oh, and I got Lily 3 more things also. Who could resist? 3 more gifts. How stupid. And yet, the greedy little kid in me feels so much better for Andrew. Who probably wouldn't care.



I am so setting myself up for trouble when he gets older. 8 gifts will probably cost thousands of dollars. YIKES!

Yesterday's rant

Yesterday's rant was brought to you by the following:

--being up for the day at 2:30 am due to various children issues, a mighty wind storm, and pregnancy-induced back/hip/joint pain
--finally succumbing to the cold that everyone else in the house has had for weeks (probably due to loss of sleep, come to think of it)
--Andrew being on a major food strike/play strike, which leaves everyone irritable
--Andrew waking up at 5 am for the day
--disappointment in missing out on my play date of the week due to pinkeye
--disappointment in realizing I'd be missing out on the pre-school mommy brunch Tuesday due to pinkeye
--Lily taking no morning nap and refusing to take an afternoon nap
--Lily discovering the Christmas tree ornaments therefore rendering it impossible to leave her alone for 2 seconds

I think that's all. Look for more re-runs of this episode in April, when sleepless nights are once again a reality. Thank you.




Luckily for me and the children, my husband came home at 2 pm yesterday. He is so intuitive...after 8 years of marriage, he really knows when I need him. Or maybe it was this message I left him on his voice mail at work:

"-sob- I think it may be time, -sob-, for you to find a new wife because I am no good at this I can't get the children to eat, Lily won't sleep, Andrew needs to sleep, but he won't go, I can't even go to social functions because I suck at cooking I've been to the grocery 5 times in the last 4 days and I still don't have everything I need What is wrong with me Maybe I should go back to work full time so the children have someone decent taking care of them Other women manage to work part time, have clean houses with their hair blown dry and bake loads of Christmas cookies and play games with their children and have gardens that are trimmed and neat and have dinner on the table and I can't even make 2 dozen cookies and Andrew has pink eye so I'm going to miss out on meeting all the pre-school mommies, not that I would have anything in common with them since I am such a hopeless failure at being a stay at home mom. I'm sorry to call you but I don't have anyone else to call I get so lonely I feel like I am going to break into a million pieces inside I just miss having normal conversations that aren't about kids and now I have to miss out on that because I suck. I should quit. SOOOOOOBBBBBB."

Somehow, out of that message (or one quite like it...I couldn't remember word for word what I said), Jeff figured out that I was a woman-on-the-edge. He called to see if I wanted him to come home, because he knows I am a complex woman, and that it was likely I would feel like even MORE of a failure if he came home unannounced. Other women don't have their husbands come home so they can bake frickin' cookies. I couldn't stop crying as I talked to him, so he just came home. And by the time he got here, Lily had finally fallen asleep, Andrew was finally willing to watch tv, and we probably would've been okay. But it was very nice to have him. I went to the grocery by myself and found what I needed and made my cookies for tonight. He read Lily a ton of books and made dinner and gave me hugs every couple of minutes. He told me soothing things, like, "There is no evidence that your mother made cookies when you were this little." and, "I'm sure the other mother's have relatives to pawn their children off on for a few hours so they can bake.", and other non-truths to make me feel better and less deficient as a mother.

Heaven help me, but I love this man.

Why I hate baking Christmas cookies...in 12 steps

***Warning. Cursing abounds in this blog entry***

Step 1: I have been invited to a cookie exchange. I have not had a social outing with my fellow moms in quite a long time, so this is going to be fun! No kids, nighttime, an actual conversation. I don't think I've ever been quite as lonely as I am staying at home with my kids...this is an event to be relished. But I need 3 dozen Christmas cookies.

Step 2: My mother gives me many of our favorite cookies recipes. Some I discard immediately (I'm supposed to "shave chocolate chips" ? You've got to be kidding) (another has easy ingredients, but requires mini-muffin cups...can't find these ANYWHERE). She recommends the candy cane cookie recipe as a good one to do with kids, since you have to roll the dough into snakes. Bonus! I get to be a "good mommy" and spend time with Andrew as well as get to go to a party.

Step 3: I briefly look over the recipe and think I only need candy canes...I should have the rest of the ingredients on hand. Must go to the store to buy candy canes.

Step 4: Try and fail to remember candy canes on 3 different shopping trips. When you are shopping with a 4 and a 1 year old, it is hard to vary from your regular shopping patterns. Throw in a new target item, like candy canes, it becomes nearly impossible. I usually don't remember and/or read it off my list until I'm already past it. No way do we back track. Write it down on the next week's shopping list. Fail and repeat. Fail and repeat. Finally go to the store without the kids on a crazy evening that I feel like I must tear out my hair if I don't have one single second to myself. Finally find the canes.

Step 5: Get reluctant 4 year old excited about baking. We have Sunday to do this, since Jeff is around to watch Lily. I spend a half hour talking up how we get to mix the ingredients (yes, Andrew, you can try cracking the egg), and then roll them out, and then smash up candy canes with a rolling pin. Once he is on board, we get out the mixing bowl, and realize I don't own Almond extract. Jeff is out with Lily (and consequently the car seats), so we have to delay cookie baking.

Step 6: Go out later Sunday evening and find TWO grocery stores are completely out of Almond extract. Mutter explitives under breath and give up for the weekend. Party is Tuesday. I can make cookies Monday.

Step 7: Spend Monday morning getting ready for MOMS club meeting...which after delivering my charity items I have to leave when I notice Andrew has drippy red eyes. On the way home with Mr. Infection, I make a quick trip to the grocery, a different grocery, for Almond extract. Find it. With 2 kids in tow. This is marked as a great victory in the alums of my life.

Step 8: Put Lily down for a nap. She missed her morning nap, so she should be exhausted. Start countdown...we now have about 2 hours to make cookies. Lily begins screaming, so nap isn't looking good for today, but we begin anyway.

Step 9: Try to get counter cleared off so we have space to make cookies. I can't load and unload dishwasher when Lily is awake, but I can't waste this precious baking time loading and unloading a dishwasher. Must make piles. At the same time, try to once again get Andrew excited to bake with me. Since he woke up at 5:10 am, he is NOT in the mood. In fact, he is crying and lying on the floor because his Matchbox toy won't spin in a circle...or some other nonsense.

Step 10: Get out Vanilla extract. Smells bad. Heaven only knows how old it is. Me baking for Christmas is a desperate act done by a non-professional. The same as someone performing CPR to a stranger in need. You know it must be done, you took a class on it long ago, so you know the basics, but you basically don't have a clue what you are doing. Luckily, I anticipated this, so I bought a new bottle. Score two for me.

Step 11: Drag 4 year old up to his room for a Mommy-imposed nap. Now I get to listen to the caroling of 2 screaming children as I happily bake. Must hurry with the baking...Lily has been crying for 30 minutes now, and is obviously not calming down to nap.

Step 12: Separate dough and dye one batch red. Immediately obvious that I have not split the dough evenly. Shit. Make cookies anyway. Yields 15 GODDAMN COOKIES. My week of stress and effort in getting ingredients for 15 GODDAMN COOKIES!!! Go to get extra flour to make another batch...and we are out. My husband was experimenting with the bread machine yesterday and used up most of the flour. So I now need to make another trip to the GODDAMN grocery with my two napless children to get GODDAMN FLOUR so I can make another 2 batches of cookies tonight so I can go to the GODDAMN PARTY.

Oh, who needs socialization. Screw it. I'm not making any more cookies. I'll have another opportunity to go out without the kids next year. I'll just start making cookies in July.

This one's for my family

Dear Linda, Mom, Sara, Annie, and any other fool who thinks I should publish my blog somewhere somehow and people will care,

Go read this blog. (Just click on the words "this blog" to link to the post I'm talking about). These are the types of blogs that should be published...not my one-horse pony show (is that how the saying goes?). Cleverly written, something all people can relate to, etc etc.

And is it just me, or is this woman spying on me? Because I have had these very same conversations with Jeff. The. very. same. Maybe I should start worrying about security on this site. I think she's found me somehow.

Anti-Santa

My son is not a big fan of Santa. It's not that he's scared of Santa coming into our house or sitting on his lap. He just doesn't buy into it. I think he's way too practical to get into it. Reindeer flying? Hmmmmm... We have a zillion Christmas books, half of which are Santa based. He tolerates reading them, but refuses to get excited about it. Arghhhh! 4 years old is supposed to be prime time for the magic of this red-suited legend. When asked what he wants Santa to bring him, Andrew says, "I don't really want anything from Santa." The only thing that gets a response is if we mention that just because he wants Santa to skip him, Santa will still bring Lily things. He doesn't like that idea much.

Ironically, my 4 year old is much more into the actual reason we celebrate Christmas. He is fascinated by the story of Christ's birth, the wise men, angels, etc etc. Which is only ironic because we don't attend church. We don't even own a friggin' nativity set. (Not because we don't believe in these things deep down...but because we are lazy on Sunday morning and we can't really decide on a denomination. The Catholic in me HATES "Church shopping" for a church that feels right. But I don't feel Catholic either. -sigh-) Anyway, I digress. My child is going to force us to wake up and get going on Sunday mornings. He has a real religious bone in his body...who am I to smother that? And who am I to keep forcing Santa down his throat, when he's more interested in the son of God?

However...last week at his school (a Christian pre-school...so Christmas is allowed), his class apparently composed a list for Santa. What gifts they wanted. Then the teachers posted it in the hallway, so the parents could easily see what our children had requested of Santa.

Andrew wrote, "A green and white puppy."

Hmmmm. What the heck does that mean? I asked him, and he acted like I should remember seeing this. Which is bad. Because that means he has something specific in mind. Yesterday, I was probing him some more to find out what it was and he said, "Santa knows what I'm talking about." YIKES. I asked him to describe what this puppy looked like and he said, "You'll see, Mom. When I open it at Christmas."

Uh. Oh.

The magic of Santa may be killed this year once and for all. When Santa doesn't bring the green and white puppy because "Santa" doesn't know what the heck that means.

On a happier note, Andrew is also turning out to be a very good gift giver. I took him out shopping for Jeff and Lily, and he had definite ideas of what he wanted to get them. And they were really good ideas. I can't tell you what he got Jeff, but as an example, when I set him loose in the toy aisles to pick what he wanted for Lily, I was all set to reject some Spiderman figure or Matchbox car. Instead, my thoughtful son brings a sorting box to me. And says, "I think Lily will really like this because she likes to put toys into things and then take them out." Which is so true. It will probably be her favorite gift. And my heart swelled. Then yesterday, Jeff took him shopping for me. Andrew was positively giddy about what he wanted to get me. Jeff told me I'll never guess what it is, because it is so off the wall. But that it shows a lot of thought and insight into what I'd want/need.

Who cares about Santa, when your kid already understands the joy of giving? And besides, I'm sure the greedy years are yet to come. ;) I'll enjoy this innocence of Christmas while it lasts.

My good idea

I am not a person who comes up with good ideas very often. I am very good at STEALING good ideas from other people, but that is something different altogether. Last week I had a good idea and today I executed it. This is unusual enough of an occurrence to leave me feeling all good and glowing this afternoon.

We have a few visitors coming over Christmas time. My parents and my little sis will be here the middle of next week and will stay until the 26th. My in-laws and BIL will be here on the 27th until the 31st. First of all, isn't that wonderful that they are all coming to US? We are very spoiled indeed. Second of all, isn't that a lot of meals for me to plan for larger than normal groups? Yes, which brings me to my great idea.

I went on-line last week to this little place, and picked out 10 meals. These meals are plenty big enough for all these people, and only cost $22 a piece!!! Today I went and assembled them and so tonight my freezer is full of yummy meals all ready to go. All I need to buy for dinners are sides...if we even decide we want that. Here's my menu for my visitors:

Pan-Seared Pork Chops a-la-France (6 big thick pork chops with a saute of diced tomatoes, olives, white wine, and parsley)

Mexican Cornbread Pot Pie

Shrimp Alfredo on the Bayou (shrimp and sausage with cajun cream sauce served over pasta)

Zowie Pot Roast (your basic crock pot pot roast made with beer...yummo!)

Burgundy Beef (beef tips with mushrooms, bacon, pearl onions in a burgundy wine sauce served over egg noodles)

Winter Wonderland Chicken Chili (another crock pot meal with white beans, chicken and a sour cream sauce)

Fantasy Island Beef (another crock pot stew with beef, pineapple flavored Caribbean sauce, peppers, tomatoes, etc etc.)

Burritos Buenos (6 basic burritos...except totally stuffed to bursting)

Chicken Crepes (9 chicken and broccoli crepes with creamy chicken sauce)

Sports Widow Stew (another crock pot recipe with pork, sausage, veggies, sesame oil, etc etc.)

I know this menu is kind of void of vegetarian and chicken dishes. But the meals cost the same no matter what the ingredients, so I try to get the most for my money by getting beef and pork and seafood dishes. Mmmmm, the spices smelled so good as I assembled it this morning. I can't wait to pretend to be a good cook this Christmas!!! Is it really sad that I'm so proud of myself for doing this???

Lily...a photo essay

Because I've been so bad about taking and downloading pictures lately...here are some shots of my ever-changing little girl.

Lily enjoying icing from Andrew's birthday cake (which was decorated like a football field...surprise surprise). Also included in this shot is her double-chinned mother. Lovely.

Lily loves to get into trouble. One of her favorite tricks is sneaking to the steps and climbing them by herself. Of course, I make this even more of a game by stomping around the corner and tickling her every time I catch her. Normal parents would have gates. I hate gates. And our steps aren't really gate ready at the bottom. Whatever. We both love this game. As you can tell by her delighted, "I've been caught" face in this photo. Trouble.

Lily "helping" me in the kitchen. She is only allowed to unload. Hence the hideous kitchen counter in the background. Why is it my house only bothers me in pictures. Kind of like my fat*ss, double-chinned persona. Only really bothers me in pictures.

This photo illustrates why I don't get many pictures of Lily. She WANTS THE CAMERA...NOW!!! I don't have much time to set up a shot.

A sweet and beautiful shot of my Lillian. Still not walking...but she loves to ride on her push toy. Especially when Andrew is pushing her. Which gives me a heart-attack. But she loves. Until he topples her over. Heart-attacks, people. How many can one woman withstand?

Matthew, Matthew, and MORE Matthew's

The Social Security list swears that the name Jacob has been number one for the last 5 years or so in this country. And I do know a few little boys named Jake or Jacob. No more than other names...in fact less than many. Did you know that the name Michael is #2? I don't know a single little boy named Michael. I met one once in California who was about 3 years older than Andrew. I meet kids named Aidan everywhere I go. Between that and Brayden, Jaden, and Caden, I think that sums up 1/2 of the little boys Andrew's age.

Names definitely are regional. When I was working at a school in CA, there were 3 little girls named Chandler. Three. I have never again met ANYONE named Chandler since. In Kentucky, there seemed to be an influx of Luke's and Lucas's. And a huge number of children with names starting with vowels. I met them everywhere I went. Here in Pennsylvania, I am amazed at the number of little boys named Gavin. There are 4 in my mom's club (30 members)!!! And apparently, Matthew is a big name as well.

At least for Andrew. His first real friend here in PA was a little boy named Matthew. We now refer to him as, "playgroup Matthew". He is a sweet little boy about a year younger than Andrew. I think his parent's probably think Andrew is a bad influence (where else would there son have learned sword-fighting?), but the boys have great time together.

Then we started 3 year old pre-school. Andrew's best buddy, his "soul-mate" if you will, is a little boy named Matthew. Andrew calls him "Math" for short. And yells across the parking lot, "I love you Matthew." His teachers say they balance each other out as far as serious vs fun-loving goes.

At playgroup on Wednesday night, we met another Matthew. He is 8 years old and he and Andrew hit it off. They played happily for 2 hours that night. This Matthew actually asked if Andrew could come over and play sometime. Such a nice little boy.

So I'm starting to lean towards Matthew as the name for #3. Why not? I'm starting to have very good connotations. But it does seem like every other little boy we meet has this name. Not Matt. Matthew.

Oh, and Andrew is still insisting the baby's name is Chris. Christopher Paul to be exact. He actually said this yesterday, "Oh, there's someone named Chris in this book. Now we know 3 Chris's. Chris from this book, Chris from Zooboomafoo, and Chris our baby." There is no convincing him that we may not name the baby that. For him...it is decided. Has anyone else out there dealt with this? We've tried to explain that the mom and dad pick the name, not the big brother. Hmmmm, at least we still have 17 weeks to get him off that name. Although, what will he pick next? This is better than Garcia.

Here come's the giant pregnant lady

Oh dear.

This pregnancy is really going to be different.

Oh dear.

I had another doctor's appointment this afternoon. All's good with little baby. Heart rate is in the low 150's (the highest for any of my kiddos...does that mean a hyper one?) BP is great. Uterus size is right on track (even though I SWEAR I'm much bigger than I've ever been...funny how your mind forgets...)

And I've gained 7 pounds.

Oh dear.

Let's do the math. Um, I gained 19 pounds total with Andrew...and he ended up being 9lbs6oz. I gained 16 pounds total with Lily...and she ended up being 7lbs4oz. So my babies are roughly 10 pounds less than my total weight gain. If I keep going at this rate this pregnancy, I should end up with a 20 pound baby.

So I'm in a mild panic. Of course, the midwife was pleased with my weight gain. Because she doesn't realize that I don't normally start gaining weight until about a month from now. Yikes. I am not surprised, however. 3 things are different with this pregnancy...

1) I feel good, so I am eating. I didn't lose nearly as much weight this time around because I've really felt better. Also, I no longer have pregnancy-induced bulimia to help with caloric intake.
2) I have never been pregnant around the holidays before. I got pregnant in Jan with Lily and Feb with Andrew. I've never been surrounded by so many fabulous sweets and treats while pregnant.
3) I have never had a problem with weight during pregnancy. I always had "Super-metabolism". As in, I ate a hot fudge sundae every day for 2 weeks with Andrew and only gained half a pound. So I just went into this pregnancy assuming that I could eat whatever I want with no consequences.

Oops. I'm in trouble. Get ready for a wide load.

Singing baby and a baby namer

We had a lovely weekend here in PA. Jeff was gone to a fencing tournament from Friday through Sunday, so my MIL was kind enough to sacrifice her weekend and come schlup around with the kids and I. She so selfless that way ;) We didn't do much...lots of shopping and playing in our house. It was just so nice to have another adult around. I'm sure I would've gone CRAZY here alone. I'm not sure both children would have survived.

Okay, a few things about my kiddos. Lily's singing has to be THE. CUTEST. THING. EVER. I cannot get enough of her little sing-song voice and tilt of the head. Her usual song is, "Ba-ba-ba-ba" or some other repeated syllable. It's her own creation, not an actual song of course. But just in the last few days, she'll sing "E-i-e-i-o" when we're singing Old MacDonald. Ugh. Makes my heart just melt to hear it. Also, in addition to the cute, "Wow!" she has added, "Ooooh!" to her surprised sounds. We go driving to see lights just because we want to hear these little sounds out of her. She is also cracking us up/worrying us with her lack of interest in walking/cruising. She loves to push the push toy...but she kneels behind it instead of standing. Little weirdo. I don't know why it amazes me that she is so different. It is such a delight to enjoy another child's unique talents. It makes me really excited to meet #3...what will he do to make us laugh? What cool little tricks will he have up his sleeve? It really is a privilege to get to watch these little guys develop into people.

Speaking of #3...we are no closer to naming this little one. We call him "Trey", since he is our 3rd baby. But I have made it very clear to Jeff and Andrew that we will not be calling him Trey once he is born. Sounds way to much like a jock to be our kid. So Andrew tells people that Trey is his "inside name". Jeff and I are so unmotivated to discuss names. We have way too many restrictions...one of them is going to have to be overlooked. And we just can't do that...yet. Talk to me in March, when I'm as big as Rhode Island. I think our "rules" will become less important.

Before we found out what this baby's gender was, Andrew was determined that if a boy, it would be named Garcia. After his trouble-making imaginary friend (and former back-up quarterback for the Eagles). Imagine the confused looks on people's faces in grocery stores and public gatherings as Andrew explained that one. But in the last week, Andrew has decided on another name. Chris. He tells everyone that we are going to name our baby Chris. Have I mentioned that my child is obsessed with a PBS Sprout show called Zooboomafoo? And that the main characters are Chris and Martin? And that he prefers Chris to Martin because Chris likes the color green...just like Andrew? So there you have it. Little baby Chris. Andrew thinks the baby naming problem is solved. Wouldn't that be funny if we ended up with that name? He'd think his whole life that he named his baby brother. After a show on tv. I guess there could be worse things. At first he wanted to name the baby Google after an imaginary creature on the show. Yikes!

Pictures...long overdue

Okay, so it's been a while. Here are some of my latest shots of the kids:

Helping Jeff put the angel on the top of the tree

My wise guys in front of the tree
Lily with a Christmas tree silhouette
Lily helping to unload the dishwasher
The reason I don't put many pictures on here...just look at the faces I get.

Post script about the shots

As if I need more reasons to brag about Andrew...

He was INCREDIBLE this morning. I had a friend watch Lily because I'd heard such horror stories about these boosters. So it was fun being just Andrew and I for a while. Even if it ended so horribly for him. He loved showing off for the nurses and doctors. He got his hearing and vision tested for the first time...which he thought was SO COOL. The doctor asked developmental questions of him, like, "Do you know your colors?" and "Can you count to 6?" which Andrew proudly slammed out of the ball park. When she asked him things like, "Can you ride a bike or a scooter?" he just smoothly lied. "Yes, I have a scooter. I'm really good at riding it." (huh? we don't own a scooter, and he doesn't have a clue about riding a bike). Then the doctor asked us to wait for the nurse to come back in, gave me a knowing look, and left. We waited for 25 minutes. At which point my bright 4 year old knew something was up. He'd had all the check-ups...what else could be left? What could we be waiting for? He figured it out pretty quickly (without me saying a word) that he was getting a shot. I confirmed it, but told him I thought it was just one (what sane person could face 5 shots???). Then, seeing his concern, and being the nerd that I am, I started describing measles, mumps, and rubella to him. Making them out to be the terrible diseases that they are. He told me he didn't want to get THOSE (especially the big cheeks...that freaked him out for some reason). So I explained that this shot would protect him so he would never have to worry about getting it. Being the nerd that HE is, he liked that answer and calmly awaited his fate.

Nurse came in. I wrapped my arms around him, just leaving his upper arms exposed. This was probably the best position, since I've always been Andrew's security item...it helped to have me wrapped all around him. And then he got 3 shots in the first arm. He never pulled away. He didn't make a sound. I heard a little whimper...that's it. I rotated in the chair and we waited for the next two. Again...not a struggle, not a peep. He was bleeding out of the first arm, so I joked that he'd sprung a leak. While he was half laughing/half crying about that, he got the next two shots. I didn't even need to restrain him. The nurse commented that it was one of the easiest 4 year old appointments she's had in a while. As soon as the nurse finished, he started to cry. He was so brave. He cried for about the next 40 minutes...not hysterically...just a lot. And then he milked my sympathy all day...I think he must have watched 3 hours of television.

The sad ending to the story of my brave boy, is that I think they mixed up the vaccinations. Instead of injecting live viruses, I think they injected crazy juice. Because he is hyped up like I've never seen him. Oh, wait. Maybe that's because he watched THREE HOURS OF TV.

Lord, this got long winded. Here are his stats: 44" tall (off the charts in percentiles), 43lbs6oz (90th%ile). Smart as a whip and a smooth liar. Charmer extraordinaire. Despite eating virtually no vegetables, he seems healthy as a horse. Good boy!

Tough questions

This post by Kelsey got me thinking about tough questions. And how Ohio overreacts to snow alerts. But mostly about tough questions.

Andrew is always full of questions. And answers. But lots and lots of questions. Anything is potential fodder for his questioning mind. Why do I cough? Why do we cover up a cut? Why does that arrow light up in the car when you are turning? Why doesn't Lily have a penis? You get the idea. This constant stream of questioning can be exhausting...and mentally straining. Many concepts are just accepted...I have learned not to question HOW the cold medicine works. I trust that the people who manufactured it know how it works. (which in today's era of recalls...perhaps we should all question like a 4 year old).

Some of Andrew's questions border on the impossible to answer. Like, "How old is God?" Eternity is an awfully tough concept to broach with a pre-schooler. Or, "Do you have to be married to have a baby?" Um.... And sometimes, Andrew just makes a statement that requires further conversation, like, "I'm scared of dying." Now that he is 4, it seems like many of his questions fall under these "tough to answer" categories.

I usually start the response to tough questions with, "What do YOU think?" This gives me a chance to think as well as hear where Andrew is at conceptually. Sometimes it gives you an easy out, if his answer is acceptable enough for a 4 year old.

Today, I keep getting asked a different kind of tough question. See, today is Andrew's 4 year old doctor's appointment. The legendary appointment. The one other parents talk about and shudder. Andrew hasn't had an immunization since he was 2. And today he will get ALL of his boosters. I think that equals 4-5 immunizations.

Today's tough question? "Am I going to have to get a shot?" I just keep changing the subject. Another of my strategies for tough questions.

Proud Momma

As if I needed another reason to brag about Andrew...

I had my first teacher conference for him today. I met with the lead teacher (he has 3 teachers in all), and the first thing she said was, "We LOVE Andrew. He comes up with the funniest things to say. He tells us that 'Teachers have a very hard job'. We love that." She must have said that they love him 5 times throughout the conference. She said that he only plays with the boys (after being in playgroups with only girls for 3 years, he probably finds it refreshing to have boys around). He is just starting to loosen up and be silly in class...apparently he's been very serious about school up until now. She said that he and his best friend Matthew are a great balance for each other, each bringing out new strengths in the other (Andrew settles him down, and Matthew helps Andrew to cut loose). He is working hard at his fine motor skills like cutting and tracing. She has never seen the frustrated, sore loser Andrew that I know and love so well. Apparently he is perfectly willing to try new things and play games in school. Yea, Andrew!

So all in all...we all love Andrew. And school is such a good thing for him. The influence of other kids has made him try new things and he listens to his teachers and all good things! I asked if there was anything we needed to work on, and she said, "Nope! Andrew is just perfect! We just love him!"

I walked out of that conference beaming like the sun in July. Proud Momma.

Lily the flirt

Tonight we all went out to dinner. Call me a slacker, but I just haven't gotten to the grocery store yet. So we met Jeff when he was finished with work. Lily and Andrew were terrific...as usual. Jeff and I ate at the speed of lightning...as usual. Andrew was entertained by crayons and the tank of lobsters at the front. Lily was entertained by the people at the table next to us.

She was CRACKING US UP. She twisted almost all the way around in her highchair (no restraining straps? really? who designed this thing?). It was a couple in their late 40s, early 50s...not really interested in babies. There are two groups of people interested in babies. Women in their 20s and 30s who don't have children yet and grandparents. That's it. No one else really cares for longer than a smile at a baby. In my opinion. Anyway, Lily was working it. Workin' it HARD to try and get these people's attention. The woman smiled politely at her once, but she really just wanted to enjoy her conversation with her husband/boyfriend. No matter what we did, we couldn't get Lily to turn around. She just kept smiling and waving and talking at them. Every time they laughed, Lily would do a fake laugh. It was hilarious...and pathetic. Finally the couple got up to leave. Lily mimicked putting on a coat...so cute. She waved bye bye...after they'd already turned and left. And then she cried and reached for them. We were apparently too boring for her. She wanted to go home with those strangers. Nice.

Unfortunately, a nice evening went sour when we got back to our cars. Someone had smashed in Jeff's rear window and stolen his laptop. Ugh. So I piled the kids in my car and left Jeff to deal with police reports, etc. He was home soon after, because there isn't really much they can do. Now he has to get a rental car and his window fixed and worry about all that was on the computer and try to think if he had anything else important in that computer bag. Andrew was majorly stressed about it on the way home. How do you explain criminals to a 4 year old? He just kept repeating the same thing over and over. "Stealing is bad, right Mom? Why did someone break Daddy's car? The police should put them in jail. Why did someone break Daddy's car?" and on and on and on.

-sigh- We should've just had Skyline out of the can. Or spaghetti. I have a feeling it will be a long time before I can convince Jeff to meet us at a restaurant after work.

"Wow!"

Being a parent the second time around is such a different experience. When Andrew was 14 months old, he was our entire world. We literally sat around the table and watched him eat. Kind of pathetic. But wonderful and enjoyable. I read him books around the clock, I talked at him constantly, trying to give him clues about how to speak to us. We tried new activities to see if he was ready yet (can he hold a crayon yet? can he use a spoon?).

Lily doesn't quite get that attention to details. I kind of just "catch" her doing things, and then I think in my head, "Oh, perhaps I should have been working with her on that." And I wonder if and when she'll ever do certain things. Like eat with a spoon. I just don't give it to her, because cleaning up after 2 kids seems daunting indeed. It was cute when Andrew spread ravioli all in his hair, but to have to clean up Lily while getting Andrew ready, etc etc. I often wonder if this is why Lily isn't walking. I just don't walk with her. And there is nowhere good to cruise in our house. And Andrew would probably knock her down anyway. Poor baby.

And yet, despite this "neglect", Lily is thriving and learning new things. Despite me. Her comprehension of what we are saying amazes me. She already follows directions, like, "Lily, bring me the baby." And she will! We already have to be careful what we say around her, because she is always listening. Heaven forbid we mention a bath...Lily instantly starts pointing towards the steps shouting, "Ba! Ba!" And her vocabulary continues to increase. My new favorite is "Wow!" We pass Christmas displays, and Lily says, "Wowwwww" in this cute little drawn out voice. If only I were technologically advanced enough to post video for you all. Seriously. It's heart-melting. Other things she's done out of the blue? She loves taking Andrew's MatchBox cars and putting them into a plastic bucket and then dumping them out. Pile them in, dump them out, over and over. (And, yes, I know those cars are for 3 and up and choking hazards and all that. Did I mention how she does this quietly over and over again? Offering Mommy some off time. Go ahead. Judge me.) Anyhoo, we were reading books on the couch (which only happens a few times a week for poor Lily), and she picked up a car and made a Vrrrroooming sound as she moved it around. Hmmm? I've never played cars with her, and Andrew doesn't really play with them anymore. Well, he does, but they play football, they don't drive around. A few weeks ago, I walked into the playroom/disaster zone, and Lily was holding a pencil trying to write on paper. Um, I haven't done anything like that with her...never actually occurred to me at this point. Turns out, she LOVES to color. Huh! I wonder how she knew?

Anyway, this big long rambling post has no real point. Just a little chronicle of how my little girl amazes me. In spite of me, she is growing up and learning new things. It makes me proud of her. I hope #3 is as self-sufficient. Because if I don't play with Lily now, I can't imagine what having 3 kids is like. Yikes!

A nasty job

Ever seen that show where the crazy host goes behind the scenes of the most disgusting jobs in existence today? No? Me neither. But I've seen ads for that show, and today I did something that should go right in their programming line-up.

Vacuuming the couch. Under the cushions. -gasp-

If you are the type that has this job fixed in your regular cleaning routine...I can't imagine what you find entertaining about this silly little blog. Because we must have nothing in common. Visiting this URL must be like watching COPS, or Cheaters, or a crash on the side of the road. You feel like you shouldn't watch...but you just can't help yourself.

I have lived in this house for 1 year. I have never vacuumed under my couch cushions. I would like to say that I vacuumed them before moving the couch here from Kentucky...but that would be lying. I was taking care of a 3 week old and holding onto my sanity by a thread. Vacuuming under the cushions didn't cross my mind. I do occasionally go cushion diving for toys, remotes, magazines. This is a dangerous and disgusting mission that I go into mentally prepared to lose a finger or two.

For his birthday, Andrew received a giant tin of poker chips. Best gift ever. Except that apparently, the only acceptable place to play with this toy is on the couch. Where the chips are constantly falling between the couch cushions. After just one day of sticking my hand repeatedly into the "Nast Zone", I decided that it was time to clean up under there.

It was...unbelievably gross. To those of you who regularly clean this area of the house...I commend you. Because this was just a collection of the disgustingness that are the people living in this house. Crumbs, lollipop sticks, an unidentified dried stain, crumbs, crumbs, and more crumbs, hair, ick ick ick. Have any of you left to swallow that lump in your throat? I had to many times while cleaning this out. The grossest part was that Lily saw the absence of cushions as an invitation to climb up on the couch. EEEEEWWWWW!

It is now clean. Aren't you glad I shared? Now my week not posting seems a bit like a gift, eh? And to think...I could have showered you with cute stories about Andrew turning 4 ("I can dry myself off now...I'm 4"). Or pitiful stories about my sweet Lily battling a cold whilst her mean mommy cuts her off from the bottle. But I'm a firm believer that if I'm going to neglect my children by blogging during the day, it is my duty to show my ugly parts here on this blog. And I'm not talking stretch marks, people. The couch.

This has been a public service announcement.

Thanksgiving/Wedding Weekend

Alrighty...here's a recap of the weekend...for myself to read someday and remember.

Wednesday:
---We arrived around lunchtime (because we'd spent the night in Mid-Boo-Foo PA...you know, just west of East Boo-Foo). Jeff promptly unpacked the car, and when the last bag was unpacked shut the back door...and watched as the back window SHATTERED. Yikes! So off our little car went to the shop. Lovely to pay $200 on a car you are selling in a month or two. Thank heavens it didn't happen while we were en route!
---I took off to help decorate (a laugh is appropriate here, folks. You know they are being polite when they ask ME to decorate anything...and that they are ignorant when they ask me to actually do things like tie a bow). Jeff was left at his parents' house alone while the other men went to pick up the tuxes. Jeff was amused (note sarcasm) that he had driven 8 hours to hang out with his kids alone. I had a blast pretending to look busy while chatting it up with Chad's girlfriend Monica. Tuxes arrived in a mess...as an example, Andrew's teeny tiny tuxedo jacket was paired up with a men's Small dress shirt. Panic ensued.
---Andrew is still in love with Monica. He was all winks and marriage proposals. Poor girl is going to have to wait quite a while for Andrew...but he sees no problems with this. To make up for losing his girlfriend to his nephew, Lily fell head over heels in love with Uncle Chad. She lit up every time he walked in the room, and was soon calling him "Dada". Jeff was a bit miffed to share his special title...but I thought it was sweet.
---Andrew enjoyed Chicken Tetrazinni for dinner. We told him that Grandma made it. Andrew turned to Grandma with a wise-guy face and said, "Nicely done, Grandma." Weirdo.

Thursday:
---Since my MIL is the hostess with the mostest, she hosted Thanksgiving for 18 people...on the same weekend as her only daughter's wedding. There's a reason when Jeff proposed to me I said, "Just so you know, I'll never be as wonderful as your mother." Lots of reasons. Anyhoo, she had quite the spread (thanks in large parts to cooking by Aunt Bonnie and Great-Grandma).
---Andrew had the opportunity to educate Uncle Colum's Irish family about Thanksgiving...since he'd just been an Indian in his school feast. It was fun.
---Thanksgiving was also spent planting seeds in the mind of my reluctant ring bearer. At one point, Grandma showed him a pile of gifts, "These are for people who help in the wedding." Andrew said softly, "Like Me?"

Friday:
---No naps + Rehearsal = Happy Kids? My children defied all odds. Lily took no nap, and did awesome. Andrew was fantastic, despite being dead-set against doing the actual ring-bearing. They made us look good. ;) Even though we really just got lucky.
---Andrew was more than the reluctant ring-bearer. To Sara's credit, there was no pressure put on Andrew (or us ;) ). He just didn't want anything to do with it when he actually saw the aisle. We kept trying to explain what it was like. He eventually came up with, "It's like a parade." Oh, yea. That's a great explanation for a 4 year old. Thanks for coming up with it, Andrew.

Saturday:
---The Big Day. Which for the bride and groom and bride's mother is full of last minute to-do lists, wardrobe, stressful moments, etc etc. Which for the ring bearer is full of...waiting. Andrew did great at waiting. Better than Jeff and I, to be honest.
---We arrive at the wedding for pictures. My parents arrived to help with Lily (praise the Lord). Andrew was in one or two shots and then there was more waiting. He practiced walking down the aisle. He climbed in and out of the choir loft. He became very relaxed in the church. I still thought there was a 90% chance he would flake out. And then it began. Lily fell asleep in the nursery so we could all enjoy it...except for my mother, of course (this from a girl who literally slept 40 minutes of our 8 hour drive!!!) And Andrew walked slowly down the aisle with a smile on his face, holding that little pillow in front of him. In his chocolate brown tux. And I was practically sobbing out loud. What a pansy. I was so proud of that little man. And then Colum gave him a great big hug as he took the pillow, and I almost lost it. Couldn't really see Sara coming down the aisle, I was so busy wiping those damn tears away.
---4 minutes after joining me in the pew, Andrew was antsy. His part was over. He leaned toward me and said, "Are they married yet?" Nope. More waiting, Andrew.
---Arrive at the reception. "Can we dance yet?" Nope. Gotta eat. More waiting, Andrew. "Can we dance yet?" Nope. Gotta give speeches. More waiting, Andrew. And he did AWESOME. After going to bed late and playing hard each day, he did so good. I was just beaming inside. And outside. What an amazing child I have. Oh, let's include Lily in this as well. My little Lillian was working on almost no sleep, and she was charming and pleasant and so stinkin' cute. Momma's heart was just swelling right out of my chest. No pressure, #3. You've got awfully big shoes to fit into.

Sunday:
---No Naps + Late bedtime + Wake up at dawn = Grouchy kids. FINALLY, my kids were grouchy. Zombie-like little grouches. And I was almost relieved, because if they had been good again...I would have wondered if they were human.
---Andrew enjoyed his football birthday party, courtesy of Grandma (did I mention how crazy she is...I mean what a great hostess she is?). Andrew got to spend it with all his grandparents, all his aunts and uncles (minus Andrea), and his one and only cousin Colin. If he hadn't been so tired, it would have been a dream come true.

Monday:
---The long drive home. Lily did okay...but it's hard to entertain her in the car. She can't really do anything. Andrew did AWESOME. Seriously. So excited about the 4's.

-gasp- So that's it. Did I forget any cute Andrew stories? This is the time for family to speak up. I'll add it in and delete this little part, so it looks like I actually remembered it. ;)

Happy birthday, Andrew!

I am going to back date a bunch of posts from this weekend, for those of you crazy enough to want to read it. I have to admit...it was very nice to have a vacation from blogging. ;)

Now, onto today's post. My baby...my very first baby...is 4 years old today. -sigh- Sometimes I feel like he is all grown up. I know this isn't true, because he doesn't yet stink or have body hair...but all the things he can do. Except dress himself. Seriously, shouldn't he be able to do this by now? At least put on socks? Pants? I understand buttons and zippers are tough, but just pulling a pair of sweatpants up? Really?

No, no, I shouldn't complain here on his birthday post. He is much more deserving than that. After his behavior this weekend, I am in awe of him. He is so patient and well-behaved and funny and social and weird and loving and funny (did I say that already?). On alternating days I am so stinkin' proud of him I almost can't stand it. I think of the baby he once was, and I honestly like him better now. His personality is...indescribable. You just have to get to know him to discover how special he is.

I feel very blessed to have had Andrew with me for 4 years now. He drives me crazy some of the time, but most of the he makes me laugh and amazes me. At his birthday party, his Aunt Kate asked him if he could write. He proceeded to write his name. WHAT???? I knew he knew how to spell his name, but I had NO IDEA he knew how to write letters. Never thought to ask him to try...I just assumed that was way beyond his abilities. Shame on me. I should know by now never to underestimate this boy.

So, Happy Birthday, Andrew! I'm so looking forward to the 4's!

We're off!

Today is where the blogging every day may come to an end. We leave this afternoon to drive to Ohio...and once in Ohio, Lily will be sleeping in the computer room. So my computer time is going to be basically non-existent. But I will take copious notes and pictures of Thanksgiving with a crawler (will anyone eat?), Andrew as the reluctant ring bearer (how do you spell that?), ("I don't do jobs at weddings...I just dance." is his current motto), and an early 4th birthday party thrown by my crazy MIL (apparently hosting Thanksgiving and then having a wedding for her only daughter weren't enough to do for one weekend...she insisted on throwing this in as well).

I must go start cleaning my house...we wouldn't want the dog sitter to be so grossed out she stops coming to feed and walk Shadow. ;)

Overalls

Oh, yes...with a stunning title like this, you just know it's going to be a great post.

I am taking time out from making lists and packing and making lists and shopping and making lists and cleaning and making lists to attend to the all important blog. I think later today I won't be getting on the computer.

It is 6:40, and my son has been up for 25 minutes...whining already. Lovely. He'll be thrilled that mom is running around instead of tending to his every whim. But to make this day a little less fun...I am wearing the dreaded overalls today.

Back story: I used to love overalls. In college I had a pair of blue corduroy ones that I loved. But I was skinnier in college, so I thought they were cute. I have not had any desire to buy a pair since I "outgrew" that pair. The first year of marriage was not kind to my waistline...another story all together.

So here I am, knocked up...again. And I am in a pickle, because all my maternity clothes are perfectly suited for fall birthdays. If I had to have an "Oops", it would have been better planned to have it in the fall...so I wouldn't have to go maternity shopping again. In my initial dismissal of this pregnancy, I foolishly thought that I would be able to get by wearing my 1 pair of maternity pants and all my baggy flannels and sweatshirts. A very nice woman dropped off a bin of maternity clothes for me to borrow, knowing that my denial could only last so long. Most of the clothes are for summer, so I can't use them. But she has 3 pairs of overalls...khaki, jean, and black velour. I understand liking overalls, but black velour? How I would love to know what kind of event you are attending where that is appropriate attire.

I reluctantly tried on a pair a few weeks ago, and I went from a woman who looks slightly chunky in the middle to a hugely pregnant woman in 2.5 seconds. I am also quite long-legged, so they are flood pants when I sit down (I look rather like an ostrich when pregnant...huge round body atop long long legs). (what the heck...I look kind of like an ostrich all the time). So I set the overalls to the side. I would like to hide this pregnancy as long as possible, mostly because of all the comments I know I'm going to hear for the rest of my life, "Oh, my, God...how close are they going to be? Won't you be busy? Don't you know how this happens yet?" etc etc etc. Like I said, I have the rest of my life to field these questions, so I'd like to postpone it.

But I only own 3 pairs of maternity pants (see, I'm not in denial anymore...I actually have bought some new maternity clothes). I have 2 sloppy children who like to use me as a napkin/tissue/drool rag. I need to take these 3 pairs of acceptable pants to Ohio with me. I don't want to dirty any of them here in PA (I refuse to do a load of laundry that consists entirely of one pair of pants). So...overalls.

Ugh.

Traveling fun

Sorry if my posts are brief. We are leaving to drive to Ohio on Tuesday night (Thanksgiving!)(a wedding!), so we are in a bit of a flurry here. Because we're leaving Tuesday night, we are going to pack the car Monday night. Now, how hard do you think that would be...for some reason, I seem to be making it complicated. And then there is packing food...because heaven help me if I eat at any of the stops on the turnpike.

Anyhoo...I must go cut up mushrooms and make deviled eggs!

Yea! A boy!

When I initially found out about this pregnancy, I really wanted a boy. Okay, let's be honest. When I first found out about this pregnancy, I wanted to quickly invent a time machine so I could go back and undo it. But when I realized that this critter was sticking in my uterus for the long-haul, I wanted a boy. Lily would be special even in the middle because she's the only girl, Andrew would have a bond with the youngest rather than being left out, blah blah blah.

Then Andrew started peeing standing up, and I had the epiphany that I really didn't want 2 boys. Football season started, and I was subject to hours of mind-numbing television and talk about sports. Ugh. Suddenly, tipping the scales in favor of estrogen over testosterone started sounding pretty good. So for the last few weeks...maybe a month or so, I've gotten really excited about the prospect of having a girl.

But then I heard, "boy". And I'm so excited. For the record, I really believe that if I heard "girl", I would've been just as excited. But I am VERY excited to be having another son. Despite all the pee in the bathroom grout and sports paraphernalia. I am excited to get out my boy stuff again (although I gave much of the 6 months plus stuff to my sister when she had Colin...so I guess I'll have to go shopping some more!). I'm glad to change it up again.

I am NOT excited to name this kid. We have way too many restrictions. I'm sure one or more are going to have to be pushed to the wayside. Ugh. Naming girls was WAY more fun.

The secret that lasted 10 hours

Andrew did so well. When confronted by Memere on the phone, he repeated over and over that it was a secret, and he couldn't tell, and we were waiting until Thanksgiving. She tried her hardest and I laughed because my 4 year old was getting such pleasure holding something over her head.

Then Pepere got on the phone.

Pepere is a tricky devil.

He tricked the 4 year old. Devious, eh?

I listened to Andrew say, "We're not telling Memere or Pepere or Grandma or Grandpa even though Memere really wants to know." long pause...and then a look of sheer amazement crossed over his face. "How did you know, Pepere? How did you know it was a boy?"

Tricky Pepere. Just pick a gender and pretend you know. The 4 year old thinks you are some kind of magician or mind-reader and responds in shock and amazement. If you are wrong, the 4 year old will assure you that you don't know.

Sneaky old man.

Mover and a Shaker

First, I'd like to reassure you all that there is only one baby in this momma. I am so much bigger and feeling so much movement, I thought for sure they were going to find 2 or 3 in there. But just one, very busy baby.

This appointment was so much fun. Baby #3 was moving around like crazy, and I got to watch kicks as I felt them. Andrew and Lily both slept through their ultrasounds, so this was the first time I got to see a baby move. Baby flipped 3 times during the ultrasound. I just enjoyed every minute of it. This perfect, amazing little person already formed in there. Truly a miracle. Everything looks wonderful...good brain, nice 4-chambered heart, 2 bones in each leg, etc etc. Just so lovely and reassuring to see. Baby is about 9 oz...so how come I've gained 4 pounds?

I spent last night and this morning prepping Andrew for the possibility of having another girl. We talked about how fun Lily is and how much he loves her. We talked about how no matter how many babies Mommy has, there is no guarantee he will EVER get a baby brother. Does he really want 6 sisters? (Like a cousin of mine...the only boy of 7 kids). So I felt pretty confident going in that he wouldn't over-react to a girl verdict. I still asked the U/S tech to wait until the end to say anything, even if it was obvious to her and Jeff and I. Andrew was so funny. She was super nice to him, talking and explaining what was up on the screen. She would freeze shots of the hands and feet and face and show him. And every time, he would impatiently say, "Yes, but is it a GIRL or a BOY?" Finally at the end, she gave the big reveal to him. Jeff and I had already guessed. Having had a boy and a girl, we know what both parts look like on an ultrasound, so we kind of knew what we were looking at.

Andrew came out of the room holding the pictures. All the nurses asked him about it...whether he knew if it was a boy or a girl. He proceeded to tell them that he has 4 brothers and 5 sisters. Huh? The nurse looked right up at me in disbelief. I laughed and told him to stop telling stories, and after that he got the question right.

And, of course, I can't reveal it here. Jeff has this harebrained idea that it will be so fun to tell his parents in person at Thanksgiving. I personally don't think the reveal of a 3rd child's gender, especially in an evenly matched family such as ours, is THAT exciting. And how exactly do you keep a 4 year old from blabbing to his grandparents immediately? I guess we won't be able to let him talk to them for the next week. He's already told every person that we've come into contact with. I guess this secrecy lasts one day. I can just see my mother calling 7 times a day, hoping to get Andrew on the phone. She can't STAND that I know and am not telling her. Actually, this could be really fun. Maybe I'll keep it a secret the rest of the pregnancy. ;)

Compliments feel so good

We went out to Don Pablos for dinner tonight. One of those nights I just HAD TO GET OUT OF THE HOUSE. So Jeff met us there after work. And halfway through our meal, I feel a hand on my shoulder. This woman, I'm guessing in her 60's, asks me, "So tell me. How did you get such beautiful well-behaved children?"

I know. It's cheesy. But, damn, it feels good to have your kids complimented in public. They ARE really good in restaurants. And it's nice to have that acknowledged. Andrew, of course, took her comment as an invitation to talk. So this poor woman had her good deed punished by having to listen to a mumbling kid in a rather loud restaurant.

So this is my new goal for when my kids are grown and gone. Compliment families. They get too many wary stares and condescending smiles on a regular basis. Compliments are under-rated.

I would write more...but I'm just too darned excited about tomorrow morning. My ultrasound is at 7:30 am. Yippee!!!!

Andrew has decided he really really wants to go. I'm envisioning the appointment going one of two ways.
#1: We find out we are having a boy. Andrew hoots and hollars and gives high fives. The rest of the appointment goes great
#2: We find out we are having a girl. Andrew falls into screaming, crying hysterics because he DOES NOT want another sister. (He's told us he's going to go live with Grandma and Grandpa if this baby is a girl.) -sigh-

I think I'm going to ask the U/S tech to not tell us until the very end. Then Andrew can have his hysterics in the waiting room and won't ruin the whole fun ultrasound. Wish us luck!

Kid art

How much do I love kid art? And now that I'm getting my own kid's art...love it. Sure, those first early scribbles are exciting. Wow! They're holding a crayon and making a mark on the world. But now Andrew is getting so much better at putting his imagination down on paper. Today, we decided to send out cards to Grandma and Grandpa and Memere and Pepere. We have his super cute school pictures to send out...and photos always kick my butt into action when it comes to sending grandparents stuff.

May I digress for a moment? (of course I may...I'm talking to myself right now). I ordered the minimum package for school pictures that I could and still get a class picture. I assumed that the picture would be terrible. Mine always were. Eyes going different directions, stubborn cowlicks showing their true form, weird objects lurking in the shadows of your face (is that peanut butter? boogers?). When picture day finally came to his school, it was an unseasonably warm 85 degrees (in the middle of October). So I scrapped my handsome sweater idea and put him in jean shorts and a t-shirt. Who care about the daggone school pictures, anyway? They aren't going to turn out okay. I scoffed at other mothers who sent their kids in thick wool sweaters and corduroy pants despite the heat because of pictures. And we got them back yesterday. And Andrew's face is so daggone cute...I'm pissed that I didn't have the foresight of those other parents. So one wallet for each set of grandparents and one for Jeff and I. That's all I got. OF COURSE, I could order more. I think they are a very reasonable $15 for a wallet. Well, probably not, but that's what I imagine anyway.

Okay, back to kid art. So these stinkin' cute pictures were a good excuse for Andrew and I to do "ART" during Lily's nap time. He got some paints in a birthday party gift bag, so we cracked those out and Andrew decided what he wanted to make his pictures of...

The first one is a self portrait. We noticed that one of the colors of paint looked like the color of our skin...so inspiration was born. Notice the red shirt/pants combo (he's wearing his Spiderman costume, so he told me), yet the arms come straight out of his head. LOVE IT. He's got a big red mouth, with red cheeks underneath the mouth. LOVE IT. His hair is accurately brown, but there was no blue paint, so I convinced him that it was better to have black eyes than no eyes at all. LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT.

Picture #2 on the blog was actually the first picture he painted. The paint set we received didn't have a wide variety of colors (no blue, green, yellow, or purple). So I suggested he paint a picture of Tucker (my parents' dachshund) since we had so much brown. With no prompting, he painted the picture below. Tucker has really long ears coming out of the side of her head. And her tail is super-de-duper long as well. Oddly, this wiener dog is quite short in the body. Although the feet are super big. LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT.

I honestly don't know if I'll enjoy his artwork this much as he gets better. There is something so charming about a child's interpretation of the world. Enjoy!

Garbage Land

No, this post isn't about my house, although "Garbage Land" would be an appropriate title for a discussion about my humble abode.

Okay, if you aren't going to ask questions, then I punish you with more stories of my kids. I love them, but you have only yourself to blame if you are bored to tears.

Andrew has been changing into a little boy right before my eyes. I have mentioned many times before that he is obsessed with football...that hasn't changed. He is also skinny and tall and has all but lost that baby cuteness. When we are grocery shopping, everyone who approaches our cart is attracted to Lily. They coo and oooohhh and aaaahhhh over her. Then Andrew pipes in. He will not be overlooked. Amazingly, he has no resentment over the attention his little sister receives. He knows he'll win them over in the end. He starts by telling them her name, how old she is, and the cute things she knows how to do. Then he tells them HIS name, how old he is, and when his birthday is. If they are still paying attention (which they always are, the poor suckers), he will begin a dialogue about his day, his football teams, his favorite color, etc etc. I usually interject and insist that we continue shopping before the cute baby (who is now forgotten, by the way) revolts and flings herself from the cart. Oh, Andrew may be losing his physical cuteness...but his personality is bypassing it by far.

Andrew is also delightfully weird. I don't know if this is a typical trait of a 4 year old, whether it is genetics, or if it is simply due to the fact that he lives day in and day out with me. Whatever it is...he is strange. Like this morning he was throwing away his Gogurt container. He dangles it over the trash can saying in a weirdo little accent, "And I send you to Garbage Land. Away to Garbage Land. (wrapper misses can and hits the floor). You missed Garbage Land. Try again...I send you to Garbage Land." I was cracking up at his little accent and just the whole imaginary concept. Love it. In the last few days he's also been repeating a commercial he saw while watching football with his dad. He just says, "Always, Always, ALWAYS put Chi-le on your Na-chos". I don't know. It's just hilarious the way he says it. I think the funniest part is that he doesn't even know what chili or nachos are.

He is also increasingly rough. I am always pulling him off of little boys. I realize this is just part of being a boy, but I am seriously afraid of being sued because Andrew is so much bigger than other boys his age. He has no idea how badly he can hurt these kids. I mean, just that huge Charlie Brown head. Seriously...one knock from that noggin' and his playmates may be reduced to drooling and staring at a wall all day. Scares me.

We've been on an UNO kick...and now Andrew randomly tells you to "Draw Four" when he is upset. If he doesn't get his way, or he's upset about something, he'll suddenly say, "Draw Four, Mommy!" What an insult.

So that's a little update on Andrew. He seriously is a nice kid. He makes me proud. And to see the way he loves his little sister. Just melt my heart and serve it on a sandwich.

Dah-Deee

My apologies to those of you who may have been offended by my last post. But I still think you are crazy. If it makes you feel any better, I am now just as crazy as you. ;) Probably God's way of teaching me not to judge other people as crazy just because of their family choice. I can just see him up there..."Oh, so you are judging those people as having some screws loose. Well, voila! Welcome to Crazy-land."

So Lily is having a little vocabulary explosion. I say little, because I realize that a much bigger one is coming around 18 months to 2 years, where she will literally be learning new words every day. But this is a mini-version of that. ;)

Her latest? Daddy, pronounced "Dah-Deeeeee!" in the sweetest little voice. And it definitely has meaning, because she only says it to him or if she sees him. If that doesn't keep Jeff home from work, then nothing can. She is just so excited when she sees her Daddy...it's so neat to hear her express it. She also definitely said Andrew this morning...but she's only done it once, so I'm not sure how she says it. He just came downstairs this morning, she pointed at him and said a 2 syllable word that sounded very much like Andrew. Hopefully she will repeat this. She also has a word for Shadow...which sounds nothing like Shadow or dog or anything else logical. She is also saying football, much to my disgust. If you say football, she immediately points at the tv or at the nearest football lying around (we have many around here). But if she sees a football, she says something like, "ooooh-all" with the same inflection as the word football. I have gotten quite mad at Jeff. He already took Andrew from me...Lily is supposed to be MINE. But she made me feel better this weekend, when she grabbed the football and said, "ooooh-aall" and then cradled it up to her shoulder and patted it gently like a baby-doll. There may be hope for her yet. ;)

Okay, I know this post is dull. I will enjoy it in the future as a remembrance of Lily's cute little voice.

So I'm dying here. Any questions from my Internet readers that I can answer for you? I think most of my readers are relatives, so you probably don't have any questions. I talk way to much for there to be many mysteries. But anyone else? Who doesn't have to listen to me ramble on and on in real life?

5 days

You know...5 days until the "Big" ultrasound. When we get a brief glimpse into the unknown...will this baby have healthy organs? Have wiggly arms and legs? Have any problems because its mother has failed to take any vitamins? For the record...our sewage system is LOADED with them.

But I'm not excited. This baby was a mistake, remember? A big fat OOPS. So if in fact I'm not excited, and am in fact terrified of this little one... why can't I stop thinking about this stinkin' doctor's appointment? I feel like I'm 7 years old and Christmas is 5 days away. Picture quality will be horrible, you don't really get a good idea of what your baby looks like, and yet... I cannot wait to see my baby. MY baby. I love babies. I love their innocent newness. I love their wrinkly little skin. I love their tiny little no-butts. Love them. And I get another one. Little ole me...I get to have another one all to myself (oh...I'll share a little bit with Jeff...especially when its stinky). And I get to SEE it in 5 days.

I am still terrified. But I am starting to realize (and this may make me a little retarded...but whatever) that no matter how crazy life will be because of this little one...I am going to love it as much as my others. Maybe more, because it is the baby I didn't know I wanted right now. And I have to think, somewhere in deep down in my panicked brain, that all that Mommy-love for the baby will make everything okay. Somehow.

The funny thing is, I've talked to A TON of people with kids this close together. Even closer (I met a mom at the conference with kids 13 months apart, and another with a 2 1/2 year old, a 1 year old, and pregnant with her 3rd). You would think that this would make me feel better...that these women are obviously bathed, dressed, and out in public despite the fact that their children are so close in age. Their hair hasn't fallen out, and they are still able to eat...at least often enough to stay alive. Many of these women have told me how "GREAT IT IS TO HAVE KIDS CLOSE TOGETHER!!!!" Even the ones that didn't plan it. But I don't believe them. When they say that, quite frankly, I think they must have a few screws loose. I actually lose respect for them. I judge them. And I cling to the women whom I feel are honest, and say that it sucked for a long time when the new baby came. Call me a pessimist. But I just can't see how it can be "great" to have a toddler and a newborn. I think twins must be preferable, because at least they eat the same thing, are interested in the same thing, etc etc.

But what do I know? All I have now is a high functioning 4 year old (we discovered this morning that he can read and recognize numbers in the hundreds) and a terribly cute but slowly developing 13 months old and a very wiggly, very strong fetus. And so far, we're doing just great, thank you.

I'll let you know in a year how it REALLY is to have babies 18 months apart. And if I say it is great, you may assume I have officially lost my mind. Please have me committed.

A day off?

I was really excited this morning...I was going away for the day with my girlfriends and leaving the children behind! Yippee! The president of my MOMS club (who happens to be one of my closest friends here) was really gung-ho about going to the PA MOMS club convention. It was held fairly nearby, and sounded like a day of give-aways and food.

But it wasn't quite...shall we say...fun. We weren't allowed to sit together to eat or listen to the speakers, and when we weren't listening to the speakers we had to talk about MOMS club stuff. I mean, I guess that is the point of a convention, and I should have known better. The moms at my table were very nice and equally disgruntled with their clubs. The food was good. Well, okay. I had picked the blandest thing offered when we registered a few weeks ago, because I didn't want to vomit all over the table. Now that I am feeling better, I really wished I'd had the tastier options. And I really wished the caterers had worn deoderant. Very appetizing. But the prizes were really great (although I didn't win one). I'm just too cynical about all the rules associated with the MOMS club and it irritates me how unfriendly some women can be...especially when put into roles of "power". It's a volunteer organization for crying out loud! But, again, the women at my table at least were friendly and talkative.

Anyway, not quite the day away I was imagining. Jeff and the kiddos had a good day. It sounds like Lily took two really good naps, so that makes life easier. Andrew is still waking up around 5:30...so he is just miserable at the end of the day. I just don't know how to snap him out of it. It is virtually impossible to keep him up late, because he is such a basket case. And there seems to be no way to make him sleep in the morning or take a nap in the afternoon. -sigh- I guess this just means the adjustment will be really easy next spring.

So not much to report about today. Sorry it's so boring...but that's what you get when I post every day!

Starcastic

Sarcasm runs in my family. So much so that my much younger sister was using the word before she could even pronounce words well. Hence the title, "Starcastic".

When you grow up in a family where sarcastic remarks fly around regularly, you take for granted that other people will pick up on your own sarcasm. This is not the case. Some people just don't get it. For the record... I am not talking about nasty, hurtful sarcasm. Just offhanded comments and stuff. I have found that I really cannot be friends with someone who doesn't "get" my sarcasm. I am constantly apologizing for myself and explaining what I meant. I don't have time for that. ;)

This creates a problem with on-line relationships. Either people I've met through chat rooms or commenting on blogs or friends that you mostly e-mail. Well, the friends that I mostly e-mail have known me in real life at some point, so they've already passed the sarcasm test. But you faceless Internet people...how do you know if I'm being sarcastic? How do I know what the reception to some of my posts/comments are.

That's what brings me to my next great invention. The "sarcasm" font. You can by typing something up, and you always have the option of bold or italic. Why not sarcasm? Just put your word or words in the special sarcasm mode, and everyone reading it will understand you aren't being completely serious. Maybe somewhat serious, but with an edge. Problem solved.

Maybe this just isn't big enough of a problem for the rest of the world. But I could use it in everyday life as well. I always tell Andrew I wish he would drink coffee so he would stop growing. This is just a funny way of telling him he's growing up too fast, and also a deterrent to drinking coffee. Not that I know if coffee stunts your growth...it just seems like the kind of fabrication that I should spread as a mother. So we were in line in Kohl's the other day, and Andrew wanted to be picked up. My mom told him he was too big to get picked up anymore. And I said, "See, I told you you should drink coffee so you'd stop growing." This woman in line in front whips her head around and glares at me. I can't imagine the story she told at her dinner table that night. Meanwhile my son is grinning and rolling his eyes...obviously he understands I am teasing him.

Maybe if I'd said, "See, I told you you should drink coffee so you'd stop growing." she would have understood better. Or not. Some people just have no sense of humor.

I am here, Mommy!

This little squirt that is my 3rd child really wants to let me know that he or she isn't going anywhere. With both Andrew and Lily I had spotting in the 16th week of pregnancy. Nothing major...just enough to make me worry and have heart palpitations. Nothing with this pregnancy. This baby want there to be no doubt...I AM COMING, MOM, WHETHER YOU ARE READY OR NOT.

This movement thing is crazy strong. I didn't feel Lily until later...which again caused worry and heart palpitations. Not only do I feel this wiggle worm very frequently, Jeff even felt the baby last night. That is CRAZY. It seems way too early for him to be able to feel kicks. Ah, there goes the little booger right now. Kick, kick, Mama...I'm here and I'm wiggly. I wouldn't be surprised if at my ultrasound they move my due date back to April 7th. It would make way more sense if I were a week further along.

Anyhoo...

I feel good, da-na-na-na-na-na-na!

Woo-hoo! Although if I WEREN'T pregnant, I would probably classify the way I feel every day as "blah" or "yucky", since I am pregnant and have weeks 8-15 to compare to...I'm feeling GOOD! Eating meat again, starting to reintroduce dairy products (although ice cream was never a problem...interesting). Starting to be friendly again...wanting to shower and leave the house again. Lovin' it.

Thank you for all the name suggestions. Especially the boy ones. I'm not so worried if this is a girl...we did have a list of 22 names for Lily...surely there is one on there that will work this time. ;) But even for a boy, we can always go with Andrew John II, and call him AJ. Andrew is NEVER called AJ (he refuses). So it wouldn't even be confusing...except for legal documents and stuff. Whatever. Not my problem. ;) George Forman did it...

Interesting that all of you want me to find out. It seems like most people in my area have kept it a secret...but they are all gung-ho about me finding out. Kind of trashing my stereotype of militant secret keepers. I guess they're not all bad after all ;) I've just always thought deciding to find out the gender was kind of like deciding on a haircut. Very personal, not very important in the long run. And adamently defending your decision to not find out the gender was as silly as adamantly defending the benefits of long hair. "Oh, I LOVE the flexibility of long hair. There are so few parts of your body that you can change at will. Why would you cut it and make it as unchangeable as your nose or your feet?" (okay, this analogy works for me...but now that I write it, it seems a bit strange. Ah,well.)

Alright, I've given my post to "the man" for November 7th. I agree with Kelsey...how am I going to make it through the next 23 days if I'm already out of ideas by day 7? I guess it'll just be boring for you...suck-ahs! Oh, and I LOVE this post by my friend Amanda in CA (still so sad I didn't meet her until just before I moved). I am totally going to steal her middle-child phrase "You're the cream in my cookie." for Lily. I think I'm really going to love having a middle child. It just feels more complete somehow. What a bond Lil' and I will have...

Okay, I'm finally stopping the randomness that is this post! Until tomorrow, faithful readers...

One year

Today, I have lived in Philadelphia for 1 year. Amazing.

I can't write much, because I am having visitors today! My mom and my uncle have stopped by on their way home from taking care of their aunt (who is in her eighties). I don't think I was QUITE on the way home from CT, but my mother can't resist grandchildren just a few hours away. She and Lily have quite the love affair. And Andrew is enamored with his Uncle Chuck. I have a cute picture of Chuck, Lily, and Andrew from this morning...lots of love and bed heads. ;)

We went to the aquarium today with everyone. And Lily is taking a late nap so we can hopefully go out to dinner tonight. Woo-hoo...a real sit down restaurant.

Sorry for the lame-o post. Can't be "on" everyday, right?