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!