Fairly recently we realized that if we leave BB's door open a crack at night, he goes to sleep easily. Before we (ahem..well...Randy) figured that out we went through 30 minutes of screaming before BB would finally conk out. Last night Randy put him to bed as usual and BB was pretty quiet in there, talking to himself. We sat down and watched Heroes on Tivo while we had dinner ( a common picture at our house at dinner).
A few hours later Randy went in to unplug BB's night light. We think he sleeps later in the morning when it's unplugged. Randy likes to go in to check on BB and report to me what cute position he is sleeping in. So last night Randy went in to find that BB had taken off his footie pajamas and his diaper and was lying in bed asleep and totally naked. Randy dressed him back up and BB slept through the whole thing. I guess it's true there's no waking up a baby when he is sleeping soundly!
So, yesterday was naked Thursday at our house. Just like on Friends. Well, kinda.
We're a happy little family of 5 who have been blessed. God has given us each other, our family and friends, and most importantly, with His only son Jesus who died for us. Jesus was adopted by Joseph, don't ya' know!
Friday, February 27, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Toddler hijinks
BB is getting in SO much trouble! He's a toddler all the way. It's all together challenging to handle and fun to watch. The other night after I had put LB to bed and was relaxing in the bedroom, Randy came it with BB and calmly said, "We've had a little incident." BB wasn't crying and Randy didn't sound panicked but I definitely wondered what was going on. Randy explained what happened.
10 minutes earlier...
"May," (cranberry) said BB.
"Where?" asked Randy.
"Nose," BB replied and gestured to his left nostril.
Randy tried to dislodge the cranberry with tweezers, but we now know not to do that. It just helped inch the berry further into the small nasal cavity. I then read online that I should close one nostril and blow a quick puff of air in his mouth to loosen the cranberry. BB thought that was pretty funny, but it didn't work. I got out the pepper and tried to make him sneeze. Nope (BB's favorite word). So we called the after-hours care line at the pediatrician's office and Randy took BB in.
They were home no longer than an hour later, cranberry-free. The pediatrician on call just happened to be our usual doctor and she was able to flush the offender out with water through the opposite nostril. I guess it wasn't pretty, but it worked. She had some horror stories about other foreign objects in toddlers' noses. Apparently organic material such as a cranberry is a pretty good option. Batteries and lint don't bode so well for one's nasal health.
The next day we were driving to BB's Mothers-Day-Out program and he talked about the ordeal. "May. Nose. No. May. Mouth. Mouth," he explained. Yes, baby, cranberries go in your mouth, not in your nose.
Lesson learned.
???
Melt my heart.
Look at this booger. LB is a very affectionate baby, and I am blessed to have most of that attention directed toward me. (Although both boys are at the point where they light up every time Daddy comes home and exclaim "Daddy!" (BB) and "Dada!" (LB).)
I have not forgotten how much I would long for being #1 when I was a distant #4 behind Mommy, Daddy, and Grandma. I know each time I post a picture on this blog or in other places I worry that I am rubbing salt in the wounds that are infertility. If it ever seems like I am taking the blessings that are children for granted, I probably am, but I sincerely don't mean to. Just know that if it seems like I'm ever being insensitive, I don't mean to be, and I love you.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Marathon mania.
Are all cities like this? Marathons seemingly every other week thwarting your driving plans?
I have no problem with runners. Some of my best friends are runners. My parents both enjoy running. My brother ran cross-country in high school and I believe my sister-in-law likes to run, too. I like running down the hall chasing babies, but that's about it. It hurts me and frankly, bores me. Sorry, runners!
Yesterday was a comedy, nay, melodrama of marathon proportions. We left the house especially early to get to church on time (for once). I even put on some nice churchy clothes whereas I usually wear jeans. We got stuck behind the marathon, which we expected, but not to the extent that occurred. We pulled up behind a white S.U.V. at 9:15 and sat, sat, sat. 9:20 came. 9:30 came. 9:40 came. I began to go a bit nuts. LB started to cry. I started to cry (well, I wanted to cry).
We searched for something to talk about other than our frustrations about being stuck stuck stuck. We talked more about being stuck.
"Seriously," I said, "I need to talk about something else." We talked about the marathon some more.
People were getting out of there cars because it was soon obvious we were not going anywhere in the next undetermined about of time. I saw an older gentleman talking to someone in a car. "Hey, that looks like Jim, doesn't it?" (Our neighbor who fell out of the tree a few Christmases ago.) It sure enough was Jim. I sprung forth from the car and waved. "Jim!" We walked toward each other and whined a little, joking about getting out the coffee-maker and selling some joe on the street. Then over from another car came Paula, another neighbor who I had never met. "I'm Paula 'cuz I'm talla," she said. But I was in my heels for once so that wasn't really true. I stood and talked to my neighbors for awhile. Neither attend our church, so it was quite a coincidence to be stuck with them at Shoal Creek and 45th Street.
I went back to the car and found LB screaming. So I took him out to give him a break from the car and to go see how many runners were still coming. (Answer: a lot.) The police officer in charge had not let a single car through in our direction for 30 minutes by that point. This was 13 miles into the marathon and 2.5 hours after it started. As we walked to the street, I heard a voice from the window of another car saying, "Amy!" It was Denise - one of the directors of our Sunday School department. Her husband S.L. was "driving" the bus in front of her. We then chatted for a few minutes. I walked by and waved to S.L. in the bus. Their son continued to get out of the car, into the bus, then out of the bus, into the car, and so on.
I decided to go back to Randy and report what I had learned. S.L. in the bus, Denise behind him, Jim behind Denise, Paula behind Jim, Krissy (another church friend) behind Jim, and then us. Five cars worth of people in front of us, all of whom I knew. Madness, I tell you!
I got back to the car just as the officer finally let S.L. and the bus through the running traffic. But I was standing there by the car with the baby. I stuck him in is seat and dove in after him. I got in the way-back and strapped him in with his Lightening McQueen in one hand and Sally in the other. BB and Randy were eating animal crackers. I usually keep a big bear-shaped jar of them in the car. "[BB] said "Crackers, please?" very nicely, "" said Randy. And off we drove.
Has this ever happened to you? I doubt it!
I have no problem with runners. Some of my best friends are runners. My parents both enjoy running. My brother ran cross-country in high school and I believe my sister-in-law likes to run, too. I like running down the hall chasing babies, but that's about it. It hurts me and frankly, bores me. Sorry, runners!
Yesterday was a comedy, nay, melodrama of marathon proportions. We left the house especially early to get to church on time (for once). I even put on some nice churchy clothes whereas I usually wear jeans. We got stuck behind the marathon, which we expected, but not to the extent that occurred. We pulled up behind a white S.U.V. at 9:15 and sat, sat, sat. 9:20 came. 9:30 came. 9:40 came. I began to go a bit nuts. LB started to cry. I started to cry (well, I wanted to cry).
We searched for something to talk about other than our frustrations about being stuck stuck stuck. We talked more about being stuck.
"Seriously," I said, "I need to talk about something else." We talked about the marathon some more.
People were getting out of there cars because it was soon obvious we were not going anywhere in the next undetermined about of time. I saw an older gentleman talking to someone in a car. "Hey, that looks like Jim, doesn't it?" (Our neighbor who fell out of the tree a few Christmases ago.) It sure enough was Jim. I sprung forth from the car and waved. "Jim!" We walked toward each other and whined a little, joking about getting out the coffee-maker and selling some joe on the street. Then over from another car came Paula, another neighbor who I had never met. "I'm Paula 'cuz I'm talla," she said. But I was in my heels for once so that wasn't really true. I stood and talked to my neighbors for awhile. Neither attend our church, so it was quite a coincidence to be stuck with them at Shoal Creek and 45th Street.
I went back to the car and found LB screaming. So I took him out to give him a break from the car and to go see how many runners were still coming. (Answer: a lot.) The police officer in charge had not let a single car through in our direction for 30 minutes by that point. This was 13 miles into the marathon and 2.5 hours after it started. As we walked to the street, I heard a voice from the window of another car saying, "Amy!" It was Denise - one of the directors of our Sunday School department. Her husband S.L. was "driving" the bus in front of her. We then chatted for a few minutes. I walked by and waved to S.L. in the bus. Their son continued to get out of the car, into the bus, then out of the bus, into the car, and so on.
I decided to go back to Randy and report what I had learned. S.L. in the bus, Denise behind him, Jim behind Denise, Paula behind Jim, Krissy (another church friend) behind Jim, and then us. Five cars worth of people in front of us, all of whom I knew. Madness, I tell you!
I got back to the car just as the officer finally let S.L. and the bus through the running traffic. But I was standing there by the car with the baby. I stuck him in is seat and dove in after him. I got in the way-back and strapped him in with his Lightening McQueen in one hand and Sally in the other. BB and Randy were eating animal crackers. I usually keep a big bear-shaped jar of them in the car. "[BB] said "Crackers, please?" very nicely, "" said Randy. And off we drove.
Has this ever happened to you? I doubt it!
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
Poached eggs and English muffins
This morning for breakfast we had bacon and eggs, and I had an English muffin. So what?
Fresh squeezed orange juice...
When I was a little girl I spent a lot of time at my Grandma and Bill's house. We lived in Thousand Oaks, California about 30 minutes away from their home in Ventura. When I was 17 months old I went to stay with them while my brother Kirk was born. I followed Grandma around everywhere and would ape her saying, "Bill, Bill," and so my grandpa was called Bill from then on by my brother and I. My cousins called him "Grandpa" and I thought, "Huh? Who's Grandpa?"
We used to eat poached eggs and English muffins for breakfast at my grandparents' house. The house sat in a quiet cul-de-sac off of a street we always recognized by the house with the wagon wheels that we called "Wagon Wheel Road." They had orange trees in the back yard and we had fresh-squeezed orange juice in the mornings, too. On the refrigerator lived several magnets shaped like ladybugs. In the cupboards were white bowls with scalloped edges. I remember so many details about that house and my foray into English muffins this morning brought some flooding back.
My Grandma and Bill died in the early 1990s within six months of each other. Along with Bill went "Old Yeller" - a cat he, well, somehow adopted (??) after my grandma died. That was a very sad year in my life. What I remember most, though, are these memories. Snippets of memories in some cases. Sometimes when I'm feeling pensive I close my eyes and imagine myself going up the steps into the house and hearing Grandma say, "Well look who's here!" followed by an important question for Bill: "Do you really have elephants in the back yard?" I "walk" myself through the house remembering all of the rooms and all of the associated memories - dressing for the beach or to eat at the Pierpont Inn, playing with paper dolls from the chest in the living room, and watching Lawrence Welk on the bed with Grandma.
All these memories brought on by a slice of English muffin and some eggs (scrambled, not poached).
Fresh squeezed orange juice...
When I was a little girl I spent a lot of time at my Grandma and Bill's house. We lived in Thousand Oaks, California about 30 minutes away from their home in Ventura. When I was 17 months old I went to stay with them while my brother Kirk was born. I followed Grandma around everywhere and would ape her saying, "Bill, Bill," and so my grandpa was called Bill from then on by my brother and I. My cousins called him "Grandpa" and I thought, "Huh? Who's Grandpa?"
We used to eat poached eggs and English muffins for breakfast at my grandparents' house. The house sat in a quiet cul-de-sac off of a street we always recognized by the house with the wagon wheels that we called "Wagon Wheel Road." They had orange trees in the back yard and we had fresh-squeezed orange juice in the mornings, too. On the refrigerator lived several magnets shaped like ladybugs. In the cupboards were white bowls with scalloped edges. I remember so many details about that house and my foray into English muffins this morning brought some flooding back.
My Grandma and Bill died in the early 1990s within six months of each other. Along with Bill went "Old Yeller" - a cat he, well, somehow adopted (??) after my grandma died. That was a very sad year in my life. What I remember most, though, are these memories. Snippets of memories in some cases. Sometimes when I'm feeling pensive I close my eyes and imagine myself going up the steps into the house and hearing Grandma say, "Well look who's here!" followed by an important question for Bill: "Do you really have elephants in the back yard?" I "walk" myself through the house remembering all of the rooms and all of the associated memories - dressing for the beach or to eat at the Pierpont Inn, playing with paper dolls from the chest in the living room, and watching Lawrence Welk on the bed with Grandma.
All these memories brought on by a slice of English muffin and some eggs (scrambled, not poached).
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Bye-bye Gymboree.
I'm so nostalgic I can barely stand it. Today we quit Gymboree and it broke my little heart. We've been talking about quitting for awhile but I kept forgetting and then the charge date passed and we went for another month. Today I finally quit our membership and got the big guilt trip about all we were passing up. This was from a woman who I've never seen before and we've been going to Gymboree for well over a year. I know the economy has everyone worried, and Gymboree is a business like any other, but I sure did get the spiel. I did think twice about quitting afterwards. She was a good saleswoman but I did not like her tone.
We started going when BB was 8 months or so. Gymboree was a great activity with having only one small child to coordinate. I kept taking BB when LB was born because I had Simone here during the day so I could leave the little baby with her. It was a great chance for BB and I to have special time together since most of my time was spent feeding the baby. When BB started Mom's Day Out this year I switched our membership to take LB on the days his big brother was in "school." He was never as into it as BB who loves to climb. LB mostly liked playing with the balls and I could buy a ton of them for the cost on one month's membership. It is also getting too hard to coordinate schedules to make it worth our while to go. If I miss 2 classes a month, which is about how it was going, it was over $30 an hour. It's not worth it.
I'm sad about it because quitting makes me feel like my babies are growing up, which of course they are. As I sat there today and watched LB really engage with the Gymboree toys like he never had before (and made me 2nd guess my decision again), I got really sad thinking about how Gymboree has been a constant for us for a year plus of un-constants. I remembered how BB loved to climb on the toys and pop the bubbles. On the other hand, LB actually really liked Gymbo the Clown and shooting hoops. As I was leaving I shelled out too much money for some Gymboree whiffle balls, but now we have a memento. I like mementos. I meant to get a picture of LB's Gymbo stamps, so of course I'm feeling a fresh wave of sadness right now.
Why can't Gymboree be free? Of course I know the answer. I don't think this is really about Gymboree anyway. It's about my boys growing up and about me not getting to spend as much time with them one-on-one as I would like. I know this might seem pretty whiney to those longing for children, and I'm sorry if that hurts. It's like anything I look forward to for a long time which then ends. I still feel nostalgic about dancing in the Nutcracker ballet every year in high school, about going to a Hannah's Prayer retreat and then returning home, about going out to the movies with my husband without forking over $40 extra for a babysitter.
Thanks for letting me whinge (for you folks in Australia and NZ) about my "sad" day. If this is as sad as it gets I'm in pretty good shape, but I still feel it. Pout pout.
We started going when BB was 8 months or so. Gymboree was a great activity with having only one small child to coordinate. I kept taking BB when LB was born because I had Simone here during the day so I could leave the little baby with her. It was a great chance for BB and I to have special time together since most of my time was spent feeding the baby. When BB started Mom's Day Out this year I switched our membership to take LB on the days his big brother was in "school." He was never as into it as BB who loves to climb. LB mostly liked playing with the balls and I could buy a ton of them for the cost on one month's membership. It is also getting too hard to coordinate schedules to make it worth our while to go. If I miss 2 classes a month, which is about how it was going, it was over $30 an hour. It's not worth it.
I'm sad about it because quitting makes me feel like my babies are growing up, which of course they are. As I sat there today and watched LB really engage with the Gymboree toys like he never had before (and made me 2nd guess my decision again), I got really sad thinking about how Gymboree has been a constant for us for a year plus of un-constants. I remembered how BB loved to climb on the toys and pop the bubbles. On the other hand, LB actually really liked Gymbo the Clown and shooting hoops. As I was leaving I shelled out too much money for some Gymboree whiffle balls, but now we have a memento. I like mementos. I meant to get a picture of LB's Gymbo stamps, so of course I'm feeling a fresh wave of sadness right now.
Why can't Gymboree be free? Of course I know the answer. I don't think this is really about Gymboree anyway. It's about my boys growing up and about me not getting to spend as much time with them one-on-one as I would like. I know this might seem pretty whiney to those longing for children, and I'm sorry if that hurts. It's like anything I look forward to for a long time which then ends. I still feel nostalgic about dancing in the Nutcracker ballet every year in high school, about going to a Hannah's Prayer retreat and then returning home, about going out to the movies with my husband without forking over $40 extra for a babysitter.
Thanks for letting me whinge (for you folks in Australia and NZ) about my "sad" day. If this is as sad as it gets I'm in pretty good shape, but I still feel it. Pout pout.
Monday, February 09, 2009
Girl's-eye view
I have a girl in my house! One besides me and my kitty. I am watching a friend of BB's for awhile, and it's a kick. Right now BB is walking around with her socks on his hands. Since she is potty trained, BB wants to wear a pull-up. He's also showing off and being very naughty! He threw his plate of food up in the air and looked at her for a smile. She obliged. How fun is this? It's cute, really.
Friday, February 06, 2009
Top 10 things about my Aunt Nancy
Tada!! It's time again for my top 10 list! Remember, these are not in order.
1. She has a great smile and an infectious laugh. She's fun!
2. She's very creative and makes us beautiful blankets and wall hangings. She taught me how to cross-stitch my very first uh, cross-stitch.
3. She taught me that it is OK to make a little mess in the kitchen as long as you clean it up. This was liberating.
3. She introduced me to Moose Tracks ice cream! (If these were in order, this might be #1.)
4. She encourages me when I am struggling or being too hard on myself. She gives great advice about raising kids - she has 4!
5. It's OK when she tells embarrassing stories about me like the time I practically accused her of kidnapping in the grocery store.
6. She shares gluten-free recipes with me so I can pass them along to my gluten-free friends. Plus, they are usually dessert recipes so I can't go wrong.
7. Like someone else I know (her big brother, my dad) she gives thoughtful gifts. The kids always like her presents the best!
8. She's in looooove with her husband after years of marriage. (Ooo-woo!) This is a great example.
9. She often took care of me when I was a wee thing. Now that I'm a mom I know how challenging that can be.
10. According to Katie, she's a fan of the Wii Fit and so am I. Kindred spirits.
I love you, Aunt Nancy! What should I do about LB dropping a nap? ;o)
1. She has a great smile and an infectious laugh. She's fun!
2. She's very creative and makes us beautiful blankets and wall hangings. She taught me how to cross-stitch my very first uh, cross-stitch.
3. She taught me that it is OK to make a little mess in the kitchen as long as you clean it up. This was liberating.
3. She introduced me to Moose Tracks ice cream! (If these were in order, this might be #1.)
4. She encourages me when I am struggling or being too hard on myself. She gives great advice about raising kids - she has 4!
5. It's OK when she tells embarrassing stories about me like the time I practically accused her of kidnapping in the grocery store.
6. She shares gluten-free recipes with me so I can pass them along to my gluten-free friends. Plus, they are usually dessert recipes so I can't go wrong.
7. Like someone else I know (her big brother, my dad) she gives thoughtful gifts. The kids always like her presents the best!
8. She's in looooove with her husband after years of marriage. (Ooo-woo!) This is a great example.
9. She often took care of me when I was a wee thing. Now that I'm a mom I know how challenging that can be.
10. According to Katie, she's a fan of the Wii Fit and so am I. Kindred spirits.
I love you, Aunt Nancy! What should I do about LB dropping a nap? ;o)
Sunday, February 01, 2009
My new hobby.
A few years ago I purchased some scrapbooking supplies from Creative Memories. My dear friend Andee, who just had a wee bairn on Thursday (and a girl - imagine that!), is a CM Consultant (a little abbreviation for you IF girls! haha) and she got me interested in scrapbooking. Because we live in a petite house, there is not very much room for crafts, so I found myself scrapbooking very infrequently. So when the digital software came out we outfitted my Mac to run the Story Book Creator Plus software by Creative Memories. It took a lot of extra software and fundage for it to work, but work it does and I like it! I am on my computer A LOT and this is a perfect way for me to actually get some scrapbooking done. Here is an example of a page I just finished. I love the paw print. It was kind of an accident that it appeared right in the middle of my page, but I love the effect!
Thanks Andee and Niki for getting me started!
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