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    On the 5th day of Christmas…

    December 19th, 2010

    4 a.m. gave to me:
    One snoring husband
    Two snoring children
    Three toddler loveys
    A four legged fur-ball

    I’m thankful we have a King.

    PS. Yes, I recognize that the 5th day of Christmas is really Dec. 29th, but the song wouldn’t have sounded as good if I went in the negative numbers.

    A Santa tale

    December 18th, 2010

    I suppose this will be the last year that I won’t be interrogated about Santa by the kids. I still stand by my goal to not lie about Santa being a jolly elf that delivers presents one night a year. At the same time, I’m trying to be sensitive to my friend’s desire to “perpetuate the Santa magic” and not have G and S2 be the ones to ruin Santa for them. I’ve spent some time this year getting my story straight on 1) Who is Santa?, 2) Is he real? and 3) Why does he hang out at the mall?

    Here’s what I have for now. Length and detail of below story may vary to match the attention span of asking child.

    A long time ago, in Greece, there lived a man whose name was Nicholas. Nicholas came from a very wealthy family. He was very kind and caring, and he liked to help people.
    In the same town Nicholas lived in, there also lived another man who was really, really poor. Nicholas, secretly gave him money to help his family out. Over time, Nicholas’ deeds turned him into a saint in the eyes of people. Many began to call him Saint Nicholas (Saint Nick). Because of different languages, other people call him Santa Claus, or Santa, for short. What Nicholas did, was so special, and so nice, that every year, around Christmas, people dress up as Santa Claus and give gifts. Nicholas’ spirit of generosity and kindness is alive and the gifts we receive on Christmas day are through that spirit.

    There is, of course, a problem with my Santa plan. S, for example, is so fatigued of two-year old tantrums, that he would very much like to instill the fear of Santa (or more specifically the fear of not getting any loot on Christmas day). All so that he could milk out a few weeks of good behavior. I kind of think that if G knows it’s us that are getting him said gifts, then it would behoove him to be nice to us. Plus, at this point, I don’t really think he cares much for gifts, so Santa or no Santa the tantrums will continue.

    Anyway, that’s my Santa tale. Let’s see how it holds up.

    Meanwhile, today, we took the boys on their Santa deliveries. This will likely be the last year I pick for G. I’m hoping next year he’ll decide what he wants to donate. This year, however, on G’s behalf Toys for Tots is receiving a Melissa & Doug fruit crate. He received this for his birthday this year and has loved it. I’m hoping that another child will enjoy this set as much as G has. I was actually a little worried how today’s drop-off would go. I pulled out the unopened toy to show to G side by side to his set. I was worried that if I pulled it out at the Fire Dept. he’d freak out and think we were giving away his set. So now, here there were, side by side, two fruit crates, and G insisted that both were his and that “My need it!” (aka he needed) the second, new set. But it went well. G dropped off S2’s donations in the bin, and then dumped the fruit crate in there too without any protest.

    Speaking of S2. He donated Gum Drop pacifiers. Being a whole 6w old doesn’t really give me a great depth of “toys” he enjoys, so the pacis it was. S2 slept on the job, but I didn’t expect any different from him on this trip.

    I’m excited and happy about how today went! I’m really hopeful that in a few years, G and S2 will be really excited about gift drop-offs too and also picking out the toys they want to gift to needy families.

    Here’s this year’s video of our drop-off. It’s jittery and you stare at G’s feet awhile, I know, but it’s not easy to hold a toddler and a camera and walk at the same time.


    Foto Friday

    December 17th, 2010

    I’m not sleeping. I’m just thinking real hard!


    G gets the star honors this year…


    …and gets Hi-5s for a job well done


    Bath-time fun. We clean ourselves. We clean the shower door…

    … and then sit in a bucket (3 sizes too small) to take a rest.

    The evil that is the 6th week growth spurt

    October 15th, 2008

    Now that the shock has worn off, I feel like I can finally talk about the crying marathon that was the 6th week growth spurt.

    It hit a little early in our house.

    As soon as G turned 5w old and entered his 6th week of life he also entered a stage of what felt like non stop crying. We’re talking shrills. I knew he wasn’t hungry, or wet, or poopy, or in pain… but nothing I tried seemed to help. Pretty much if he was awake, but didn’t have a boob in his mouth, he was crying until his face turned beet red. You’d think I was torturing him.
    This was of course also paired with frequent eating (expected), which included many, many, middle-of-the-night wake-ups. That’s right, my cute little guy who previously woke up two, three times tops between 9pm and 7am, was now waking up at least four times. S and I had about resolved to sleep in the glider after 3am almost nightly. It felt like a lost cause to try and walk around the corner to our own bedroom.

    As bad as it was, we were getting through it. There was one day, however, that would probably be forever burned into my mind: the first. He was fussy all morning, which normally I could take in stride, but what set me off was spilled milk. Seriously! I had pumped and it was the first time ever that I had gotten 2oz in a session. I was excited… and then G started crying. I took him to his room to change his diaper, leaving the bottle of milk on my side table, still attached to the pump. We couldn’t have been gone more than 5 minutes. When I returned the bottle was gone. I looked under the side table and there it was turned upside down… empty. Of course G was still crying, there was now milk soaking the carpet, and nothing for me to freeze for later. Yeah, I was mad. And I snapped at my kid. I said in a loud and stern voice “G, I can’t help you because I don’t know what you want!” He stopped, looked at me perplexed at the tone of my voice… and then resumed with his crying spell. I don’t think I’d ever felt this bad in my life. I felt guilty. What was happening was obviously not his fault. He didn’t spill the milk; it’s not his fault his body is growing; that he was hungry and probably feeling growing pains. Although I apologized and followed up with kisses, all day I felt like a dog walking with his tail between his legs.

    The rest of the day continued with the loud crying. I was emotionally drained. A solocitor came to our door that afternoon and witnessed the “joy” that he was. I looked like the stereotypical overwhelmed mom: bathrobe, messed up hair, crying kid in arms. Of course G took the opportunity while she was going into her spiel to spit-up down my shirt. I don’t think I’d seen a solicitor go away as fast as she did. I giggled as I shut the door.

    S came home earlier that evening because of how bad the day had gone and I needed some relief. We went out for dinner with A & B that night, and even they exclaimed how “not good” I looked. At least for them I looked remotely descent by managing to change clothes and brush my hair.

    S’ parents arrived in the middle of this growth spurt period. S’ mom, who has taken care of a badly refluxed kid (our niece, sadly) just went through deja-vu. We’re pretty sure it’s not reflux, so we just needed to bear it and get through. For awhile, she was bouncing a very fussy kid. A typical moment in her (and our arms) looked like this:

    What kept us going was knowing that there would be a light at the end of the tunnel… and there was! When all was said and done G emerged almost like a brand new kid. He’s awake a lot more now. Awake, alert and quiet (well, quiet-er)! He smiles a bit more, looks around, and is much more engaging with his toys.

    He’s now 8lb 8.7oz and about 20.5” in height. He’s outgrown a fair amount of his NB-sized onesies and I’ve pulled out the next step up. Now that he’s more peaceful and in a better mood, I even scheduled a photo session to take his newborn photos. I’m really excited!

    So, yeah! This was the tale of our last week – one of the reasons, why you didn’t hear much from us for a bit. With all this, I gotta say, I am not looking forward to teeth coming in. I’ve heard that some bourbon (or hard liquor of choice) on their gums might help, but I think I’ll be taking a few swigs of it at that point.

    Foto Friday

    October 10th, 2008

    G’s been enjoying some time with S’ parents.