Yesterday I told Chloe to empty out her backpack and put her lunchbox away. She said, "My lunch was in a paper sack so I don't need to take care of my lunchbox." I said, "No, your snack was in a paper sack. Your lunchbox was in your backpack." It turns out she thought that the tiny back of pretzel crisps and tiny organic apple I packed for a snack were her LUNCH! She said that she decided to eat the pretzels for snack and "save" the apple for lunch, and at lunch she at the apple right down to the core. Later that night I emailed her teacher to tell her that I did, in fact, pack a lunch. She emailed me right back to let me know that she had even asked Chloe if she had more for lunch than an apple, and that Chloe responded the apple was all she had. Hahahaha. I cannot stop laughing about this.
Chloe said that there are swing bullies on the playground. The big kids apparently hog the swings and then tease the little kids saying, "Haha, you don't have a swiii-ing." So Chloe said the next recess she was line leader and ran straight for the swings, but STILL didn't get one. I asked why she didn't tell a teacher, and she told me that there are no teachers on the playground. I said, surly there has to be a teacher on the playground, but she said no, there are only construction workers. Bahaha. I'm guessing the playground patrol people wear green vests like the crossing guards. Today she told my mom that she gave her special ring to a construction worker. My mom called to let me know and thought I should probably have a talk with her about strangers. I assured her that the construction worker in question was in all likelihood a playground patrol.
Oh, and apparently, Chloe already has a husband named Adam. He is about 1.5 feet taller than her. He was getting bullied on the playground and she "didn't like it one bit!" This Kindergarten thing is just killing me!
Thursday, September 10, 2015
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
Chloe Goes to Kindergarten!
This morning Chloe ran straight for the playground when we got to school. After a few minutes she ran up to me and told me she had to show me something. I followed her to a picnic table. She had me squat down, and there under the table was a little, white, fluffy caterpillar hanging upside down. She picked it up and ran over to the mass of people waiting in line for the school bell. She held her hands out for all the kids and parents to see. She must have shown 30 people. I told her she could bring it inside to see if her teacher had a jar. I thought it would be a good test of character to see if her Kindergarten teacher - a veteran teacher of 25+ years - would agree to a jar, or require an immediate release. When Chloe showed her the caterpillar her teacher quickly replied, "that is wonderful, Chloe! Why don't I get a jar and we can put some grasses in there. Later, we can let him go outside." All the kids ran to the jar to see the caterpillar. Chloe was so proud.
On the first day of school her teacher indicated the day went well, except she had to have a little talk about listening. Her teacher said, "I think Chloe just wanted to do what she wanted to do. So, we will have a few talks about listening." That's my girl. Head in the clouds, stubborn as a mule, living in Chloe lala land.
My little Chloe Clover is definitely one of a kind. I can never find the words to truly describe her and her unique personality, but I love that on just the second day of school her teacher got such a great insight to her little soul.
I can't believe my first baby is in Kindergarten. She was totally ready for this, and I'm so proud of her for having such a strong, independent spirit. She couldn't wait. Poor Abram. On the way to orientation he said "Cwoie, I will reawwy miss you and your new school. I'm serious. I will," to which she replied with an eye roll, "ugh, I can't wait to get some space from Abram." Little turd!
But my big guy is doing a second year of 3's. This is his first year actually qualifying in age. I pick him up in about two hours and I can't wait to hear how his first day went. He is such a leader. He has an outgoing personality and immediately gets along playing with other kids. I think he is going to absolutely love preschool this year.
On the first day of school her teacher indicated the day went well, except she had to have a little talk about listening. Her teacher said, "I think Chloe just wanted to do what she wanted to do. So, we will have a few talks about listening." That's my girl. Head in the clouds, stubborn as a mule, living in Chloe lala land.
My little Chloe Clover is definitely one of a kind. I can never find the words to truly describe her and her unique personality, but I love that on just the second day of school her teacher got such a great insight to her little soul.
I can't believe my first baby is in Kindergarten. She was totally ready for this, and I'm so proud of her for having such a strong, independent spirit. She couldn't wait. Poor Abram. On the way to orientation he said "Cwoie, I will reawwy miss you and your new school. I'm serious. I will," to which she replied with an eye roll, "ugh, I can't wait to get some space from Abram." Little turd!
But my big guy is doing a second year of 3's. This is his first year actually qualifying in age. I pick him up in about two hours and I can't wait to hear how his first day went. He is such a leader. He has an outgoing personality and immediately gets along playing with other kids. I think he is going to absolutely love preschool this year.
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
Emmett - One Month
Emmett, you are already one month old! Your first week of life I swear you didn't make a peep all day, though you were up every hour at night. I couldn't believe what a sweet, perfect, well-behaved baby you were! I was in a lot of pain so you and I spent a lot of time just snuggling on the couch. Your Daddy said I better hold you as much as possible because you are the last baby. Amen!!
Your second week you started to get a little gassy and the only noises you made were grunts and groans. You always sounded like you were trying to take a big poop. You continued sleeping throughout the day and in just one hour increments at night. I swear that about half way through the night I wanted to cry! Thankfully, it was Christmas and we had lots of family around to help out. Grammy and Papa came over on Christmas and stayed the night. They came back for a few days around New Years Eve for my birthday and to help install our new kitchen backsplash. Both times I took advantage of their presence and slept in and took naps whenever I could. At one point I was so exhausted that I started feeling achy and developed a low grade fever. I forgot how hard it is to have a new baby!
In your third week we decided to start giving you gas drops. Those seemed to help you a lot, and while you still grunted and groaned, it wasn't nearly as often or as bad. I decided to stop sleeping upstairs and let you fall asleep downstairs to the sound of the television. I started sleeping next to you on the couch. This is what I did with Abram and it worked for you, as well. I started getting 3 hour stretches of sleep - sometimes even 4 hours! We tried putting you in every baby bed contraption we own including the swing, the bouncy seat, the pack and play, and the sleep and play. Eventually, we ended up using the sleep and play for bedtime. You'll sit in any of them during the day quite peacefully. You are really a good, sweet, easy-going baby.
You love your brother and sister. Though you can't smile yet, you sit in there arms as content as can be. At night I bring you up to say goodnight and they both get to hold you briefly. You just sit there awkwardly in their little arms, but seem happy as a clam. It's so cute!
Breastfeeding is going well. In the beginning I would estimate it took you 30-45 seconds to actually get a good latch. You would just rut around a lot before you would remember how to latch. That lasted about two weeks. It's so much easier to breastfeed the second and third child. Chloe did the same thing you did, but it was so hard and so stressful. I would try to put 47 pillows around me and would get so frustrated. With you, I could patiently let you figure it out. At three weeks you were a champ.
At your 4 week check up you already weighed 10 pounds 4 ounces!! The doctor was so impressed by your weight gain. When we left the hospital you were only 7 pounds 2 ounces. You are a champ! You started out in newborn diapers and newborn clothes. The clothes fit you except for the feet. You always had your little toes curled up in the feet of those newborn sleepers. you were only in newborn clothes for about a week. By the end of the first month you are wearing 3 month clothing and size 1 diapers.
We try to get you to take a pacifier, but you aren't really interested. Honestly, it pisses you off more than anything, and you often gag on it. You don't really need one anyway since you rarely ever cry. You are obsessed with the bath and shower. You have never once cried when I put you in a bath or shower. You always try to fall asleep in the tub because you are just so content. You are the sweetest little guy!
We are just so blessed to have you. I didn't even realize how much I would enjoy having a little baby again. You are just so good and we are so lucky that you aren't fussy. You love to snuggle and be spoken to. It feels like you want to smile at us. Chloe swears that you smiled your first smile at her in the car. I wouldn't be surprised. She is a silly one and I'm sure you are going to find her to be hilarious. Thank you so much for being my sweet boy. I love you so much!
Your second week you started to get a little gassy and the only noises you made were grunts and groans. You always sounded like you were trying to take a big poop. You continued sleeping throughout the day and in just one hour increments at night. I swear that about half way through the night I wanted to cry! Thankfully, it was Christmas and we had lots of family around to help out. Grammy and Papa came over on Christmas and stayed the night. They came back for a few days around New Years Eve for my birthday and to help install our new kitchen backsplash. Both times I took advantage of their presence and slept in and took naps whenever I could. At one point I was so exhausted that I started feeling achy and developed a low grade fever. I forgot how hard it is to have a new baby!
In your third week we decided to start giving you gas drops. Those seemed to help you a lot, and while you still grunted and groaned, it wasn't nearly as often or as bad. I decided to stop sleeping upstairs and let you fall asleep downstairs to the sound of the television. I started sleeping next to you on the couch. This is what I did with Abram and it worked for you, as well. I started getting 3 hour stretches of sleep - sometimes even 4 hours! We tried putting you in every baby bed contraption we own including the swing, the bouncy seat, the pack and play, and the sleep and play. Eventually, we ended up using the sleep and play for bedtime. You'll sit in any of them during the day quite peacefully. You are really a good, sweet, easy-going baby.
You love your brother and sister. Though you can't smile yet, you sit in there arms as content as can be. At night I bring you up to say goodnight and they both get to hold you briefly. You just sit there awkwardly in their little arms, but seem happy as a clam. It's so cute!
Breastfeeding is going well. In the beginning I would estimate it took you 30-45 seconds to actually get a good latch. You would just rut around a lot before you would remember how to latch. That lasted about two weeks. It's so much easier to breastfeed the second and third child. Chloe did the same thing you did, but it was so hard and so stressful. I would try to put 47 pillows around me and would get so frustrated. With you, I could patiently let you figure it out. At three weeks you were a champ.
At your 4 week check up you already weighed 10 pounds 4 ounces!! The doctor was so impressed by your weight gain. When we left the hospital you were only 7 pounds 2 ounces. You are a champ! You started out in newborn diapers and newborn clothes. The clothes fit you except for the feet. You always had your little toes curled up in the feet of those newborn sleepers. you were only in newborn clothes for about a week. By the end of the first month you are wearing 3 month clothing and size 1 diapers.
We try to get you to take a pacifier, but you aren't really interested. Honestly, it pisses you off more than anything, and you often gag on it. You don't really need one anyway since you rarely ever cry. You are obsessed with the bath and shower. You have never once cried when I put you in a bath or shower. You always try to fall asleep in the tub because you are just so content. You are the sweetest little guy!
We are just so blessed to have you. I didn't even realize how much I would enjoy having a little baby again. You are just so good and we are so lucky that you aren't fussy. You love to snuggle and be spoken to. It feels like you want to smile at us. Chloe swears that you smiled your first smile at her in the car. I wouldn't be surprised. She is a silly one and I'm sure you are going to find her to be hilarious. Thank you so much for being my sweet boy. I love you so much!
Emmett's Birth Story
I think the hardest part about having kids at home during a full term pregnancy is just the uncertainty of when the baby is coming. Thankfully we have a wonderful family and support system. The problem is that system is located two hours away.
I began having contractions in the early hours of December 11. I texted my Mom and had her make the two hour journey to our house that morning. I continued to have light contractions throughout the day, but they eventually dwindled down to nothing by the end of the night. My parents took the kids home for the weekend thinking that some relaxation might help get things going. Our biggest accomplishment was that we wrapped all of the Christmas presents and went to a movie for the first time in some five years (Hunger Games). At around 8:30 pm December 15 (my due date) I had a few contractions. Reluctantly, I called my Mom and asked her to come over that night so that I didn't have to call her in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, nothing ever came of those contractions either! On Tuesday, December 16 at my 3:30 pm appointment my midwife checked me and indicated that I was 3 cm dilated and 90% effaced. She stripped my membranes, and I began having contractions almost immediately. We had a quick ultrasound and non stress test to make sure baby was doing well.
We went to Smashburger for a spicy jalapeno burger around 6:30 pm hoping that might get things moving. While we were there I began having some stronger and more regular contractions that continued through the night. When we got home I did some laundry and Paul and I watched a movie. I insisted on matching every pair of socks. You know, otherwise the baby wouldn't come. I sat on the balance ball and took a bath. By 10:00 pm the contractions were so strong and were pretty consistently 5-6 minutes apart. By midnight I was starting to feel nervous that I was getting very far along in the labor and I suggested we go to the hospital. When we got to triage I told the nurse she might want to check me, because I thought I was probably a good 7-8 cm by the strength of the contractions. You can imagine my shock and horror when she informed me that I was only 4 cm!!! I was in so much pain, yet had only dilated 1 cm! I wanted to kick her in her smug face.
We were admitted immediately, which was nice. My nurse, Megan, did a 20 minute monitor on the baby while the midwife prepared the room for delivery and drew me a bath. I was in a shitty mood from being told I was only 4 cm. I felt a little embarrassed for going into the hospital and also a little weak for thinking things hurt so incredibly bad. I hopped in the bath at 2:00 am and was allowed one hour without monitors. The contractions I had for the 45 minutes I was in the tub were not nearly as bad as my stupid labor from 3-4 cm. I was feeling defeated and I told the midwife I'd like her to check me and if I wasn't dilated I would possibly have her break my water to get things moving. When she checked me she asked "well, how far along did you want to be? You are 9.0 cm!" She suggested we break the water and have a baby! I dilated from 4 to 9 in 45 minutes. I got out of that tub, like "fucking right." I wanted to mean mug that triage nurse.
I got out of the tub and situated myself on the hospital bed. For me, pushing is always the most dreadful part. Although I have to say that I didn't enjoy the labor much at all this time around. I wouldn't say it was my most painful, but this time I was really focused on the pain and was very fearful of pushing. Anyway, my midwife broke my water. Thankfully, the water was clear with no meconium. Shortly after that I had a contraction and she told me to practice pushing. I gave her three little baby pushes. I didn't need "practice" pushing. I mean, this wasn't my first rodeo. I knew that the minute I started to actually push that baby was going to actually come out. I decided that the next contraction would be "the one."
I prepared myself for what was to come, and as soon as the contraction started to began to push. I pushed for three 8 counts. I thought I would stop after the third, but then all of a sudden the urge to push took over my body. I screamed out "OH NO!!" and pushed with all of my being. The midwife said "The head is crowning. Slow down, Cas-, nurse get the-, Paul come-, the head is out, OH! there's the baby!" And just like that, the baby literally shot right out of me. She flipped the baby over so we could see that we had a baby BOY! She handed him to me and I put him right on my chest. It was 3:20 am.
He cried a little, but not much. He was very comfortable sitting right on my chest. She waited until the umbilical cord stopped pulsing and then Paul cut the cord. After that the really hard work started. They say you forget how painful it is to have a baby, but honestly, I never forget. I know it is painful. What I do always forget is how fucking horrible the after birth is. Because I push my kids out in a single contraction I always tear. This time I had a 2nd degree tear. The numbing shots hurt because the area is so tender and you can still feel a ton of pain during the actual stitching. This was by far the worst after birth of them yet, because I hemorrhaged immediately after giving birth. It was actually quite scary. I had to have a shot of Pitocin in my leg to get the contractions going, which didn't seem to work. The midwife had one hand basically scooping me out from the inside and the other hand shoving as hard as she possibly could on my stomach to get my uterus to contract. I cried out in pain the entire time. It was absolutely worse than the entire labor and pushing combined. It took at least 45 minutes to get the after birth resolved. I was shaking so bad and I felt like I was going to pass out.
When it was over everyone left the room and it was just me, Paul, and our new son. I breastfed him for about 30 minutes. After that the nurse returned and gave the baby his first bath and took his stats. He was 7 lbs 7 oz and 21 inches long. It was so nice to be able to hold him for so long before any of that took place. Chloe and Abram were taken from me right away to be cleaned up and weighed while I handled the after birth.
When the nurse left the room again we began to talk about names. The only boy name I had picked out was Jude Paul. Paul kept calling him Jude to see if we liked it, but I kept thinking he was saying "Jew" so we quickly decided against the name. For a brief moment in the delivery room we picked the name Lucas, but when Paul searched for the name's popularity he found it as #1 on the BabyCenter list for 2014. In fact, one nurse asked what we were thinking for a name and when we said Lucas a cafeteria worker happened to walk in and said "Girl, everybody be pickin that name lately!" Haha. We quickly decided against that name, too. We went to the recovery room without a name. The baby slept for 7 hours before he would wake up to eat again. We were all so tired!
The next morning Paul was perusing baby names on his phone when he suggested the name Emmett. I thought about it for a moment and said "I actually don't hate it." We tried it out for a few hours before the kids got there. My Mom brought Chloe and Abram up to the room and we asked them if they liked the name Emmett. Abram said right away, "Yes, this my brother Emmett." He said the name so clearly and so proudly that we decided that was definitely the name. It was so cute! He went to preschool later that day and told everyone about his baby brother, Emmett. We spent the next day discussing middle names and eventually decided to name him Emmett Paul.
For a few weeks I felt a little unsure of the name. We kept calling him "the baby." But as I finish this post 8 months later I can't see him as a Tyler or Jude or Lucas. He is an Emmett through and through. My perfect little sweet little baby boy, Emmett!
I began having contractions in the early hours of December 11. I texted my Mom and had her make the two hour journey to our house that morning. I continued to have light contractions throughout the day, but they eventually dwindled down to nothing by the end of the night. My parents took the kids home for the weekend thinking that some relaxation might help get things going. Our biggest accomplishment was that we wrapped all of the Christmas presents and went to a movie for the first time in some five years (Hunger Games). At around 8:30 pm December 15 (my due date) I had a few contractions. Reluctantly, I called my Mom and asked her to come over that night so that I didn't have to call her in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, nothing ever came of those contractions either! On Tuesday, December 16 at my 3:30 pm appointment my midwife checked me and indicated that I was 3 cm dilated and 90% effaced. She stripped my membranes, and I began having contractions almost immediately. We had a quick ultrasound and non stress test to make sure baby was doing well.
We went to Smashburger for a spicy jalapeno burger around 6:30 pm hoping that might get things moving. While we were there I began having some stronger and more regular contractions that continued through the night. When we got home I did some laundry and Paul and I watched a movie. I insisted on matching every pair of socks. You know, otherwise the baby wouldn't come. I sat on the balance ball and took a bath. By 10:00 pm the contractions were so strong and were pretty consistently 5-6 minutes apart. By midnight I was starting to feel nervous that I was getting very far along in the labor and I suggested we go to the hospital. When we got to triage I told the nurse she might want to check me, because I thought I was probably a good 7-8 cm by the strength of the contractions. You can imagine my shock and horror when she informed me that I was only 4 cm!!! I was in so much pain, yet had only dilated 1 cm! I wanted to kick her in her smug face.
We were admitted immediately, which was nice. My nurse, Megan, did a 20 minute monitor on the baby while the midwife prepared the room for delivery and drew me a bath. I was in a shitty mood from being told I was only 4 cm. I felt a little embarrassed for going into the hospital and also a little weak for thinking things hurt so incredibly bad. I hopped in the bath at 2:00 am and was allowed one hour without monitors. The contractions I had for the 45 minutes I was in the tub were not nearly as bad as my stupid labor from 3-4 cm. I was feeling defeated and I told the midwife I'd like her to check me and if I wasn't dilated I would possibly have her break my water to get things moving. When she checked me she asked "well, how far along did you want to be? You are 9.0 cm!" She suggested we break the water and have a baby! I dilated from 4 to 9 in 45 minutes. I got out of that tub, like "fucking right." I wanted to mean mug that triage nurse.
I got out of the tub and situated myself on the hospital bed. For me, pushing is always the most dreadful part. Although I have to say that I didn't enjoy the labor much at all this time around. I wouldn't say it was my most painful, but this time I was really focused on the pain and was very fearful of pushing. Anyway, my midwife broke my water. Thankfully, the water was clear with no meconium. Shortly after that I had a contraction and she told me to practice pushing. I gave her three little baby pushes. I didn't need "practice" pushing. I mean, this wasn't my first rodeo. I knew that the minute I started to actually push that baby was going to actually come out. I decided that the next contraction would be "the one."
I prepared myself for what was to come, and as soon as the contraction started to began to push. I pushed for three 8 counts. I thought I would stop after the third, but then all of a sudden the urge to push took over my body. I screamed out "OH NO!!" and pushed with all of my being. The midwife said "The head is crowning. Slow down, Cas-, nurse get the-, Paul come-, the head is out, OH! there's the baby!" And just like that, the baby literally shot right out of me. She flipped the baby over so we could see that we had a baby BOY! She handed him to me and I put him right on my chest. It was 3:20 am.
He cried a little, but not much. He was very comfortable sitting right on my chest. She waited until the umbilical cord stopped pulsing and then Paul cut the cord. After that the really hard work started. They say you forget how painful it is to have a baby, but honestly, I never forget. I know it is painful. What I do always forget is how fucking horrible the after birth is. Because I push my kids out in a single contraction I always tear. This time I had a 2nd degree tear. The numbing shots hurt because the area is so tender and you can still feel a ton of pain during the actual stitching. This was by far the worst after birth of them yet, because I hemorrhaged immediately after giving birth. It was actually quite scary. I had to have a shot of Pitocin in my leg to get the contractions going, which didn't seem to work. The midwife had one hand basically scooping me out from the inside and the other hand shoving as hard as she possibly could on my stomach to get my uterus to contract. I cried out in pain the entire time. It was absolutely worse than the entire labor and pushing combined. It took at least 45 minutes to get the after birth resolved. I was shaking so bad and I felt like I was going to pass out.
When it was over everyone left the room and it was just me, Paul, and our new son. I breastfed him for about 30 minutes. After that the nurse returned and gave the baby his first bath and took his stats. He was 7 lbs 7 oz and 21 inches long. It was so nice to be able to hold him for so long before any of that took place. Chloe and Abram were taken from me right away to be cleaned up and weighed while I handled the after birth.
When the nurse left the room again we began to talk about names. The only boy name I had picked out was Jude Paul. Paul kept calling him Jude to see if we liked it, but I kept thinking he was saying "Jew" so we quickly decided against the name. For a brief moment in the delivery room we picked the name Lucas, but when Paul searched for the name's popularity he found it as #1 on the BabyCenter list for 2014. In fact, one nurse asked what we were thinking for a name and when we said Lucas a cafeteria worker happened to walk in and said "Girl, everybody be pickin that name lately!" Haha. We quickly decided against that name, too. We went to the recovery room without a name. The baby slept for 7 hours before he would wake up to eat again. We were all so tired!
The next morning Paul was perusing baby names on his phone when he suggested the name Emmett. I thought about it for a moment and said "I actually don't hate it." We tried it out for a few hours before the kids got there. My Mom brought Chloe and Abram up to the room and we asked them if they liked the name Emmett. Abram said right away, "Yes, this my brother Emmett." He said the name so clearly and so proudly that we decided that was definitely the name. It was so cute! He went to preschool later that day and told everyone about his baby brother, Emmett. We spent the next day discussing middle names and eventually decided to name him Emmett Paul.
For a few weeks I felt a little unsure of the name. We kept calling him "the baby." But as I finish this post 8 months later I can't see him as a Tyler or Jude or Lucas. He is an Emmett through and through. My perfect little sweet little baby boy, Emmett!
Friday, November 7, 2014
Kid Update
Here is another partial post from around November 2013. Chloe would be nearing four and Abram nearing two.
Dear Chloe,
You are soon to be four years old. Just mulling over that sentence is enough to give me writer's block. I haven't posted about you in so long. Seriously, I can't find the words. As a good friend once said, "I imagine it is difficult to capture the essence of Chloe in words," and it is. Impossible, almost.
I don't know when or how it happened, but somehow you went from a toddler to a kid. You are constantly rolling your eyes. Sometimes just to be funny, and sometimes just to be a shit. A few months ago while we were lying in your bed just talking I said "well, duh." You asked me what "duh" meant, and I spent a few minutes trying to teach you. What I told you was to point to the green grass and ask, Is that blue? and when they respond with, No, it's green, you hit your head with the palm of your hand and say Ummm duh! Eventually, you gathered a deep enough understanding of the phrase to use in context. I created a monster.
You dress yourself in some variation of the same outfit every day: tights, poofy skirt, and shirt (if any of it matches, it's out of pure coincidence). You went through a phase about a year ago where you would only wear cat shirts. You are a little more flexible now - typically opting for Hello Kitty shirts, Ninja Turtle shirts, or anything that is two sizes too small or stained. You have a giant collection of hand-me-down poofy skirts, so finding one is never a problem.
You go to preschool twice a week. You love your teachers, Miss Ronda and Miss Susan, so much. Your best friend in the whole world is in your class, Ezra. He is basically one of the only kids you play with and you are so obsessed with him it's frightening. Your teachers are so amazed at how smart you are and especially at how strong you are. They say they have never had a kid in "3's" who can make it all the way across the monkey bars with no assitance. You are a beast!
Abram loves trucks, cars, tractors, and trains; he demands to wear shirts that display trucks, cars, tractors, or trains; and, he can say only the essential words: snacKK, coo-kee, juish, NO, and shoe. He is a shoe fanatic. I mean, seriously, it's pretty annoying. Kid has been throwing his shoes in my face since he was 14 months. Recently he acquired a pair of lace-up Spiderman shoes that are four sizes too big and untie/fall off constantly. We ended up hiding them after weeks of cursing.
**And, oh my gosh, that is all I wrote about my sweet boy. Poor guy! I recall a few things about this age of his, though. I don't recall exactly when we threw out the pacifier, but I feel like it was sometime around here. He kept chucking them all over the place and losing them. We finally decided that when he lost the last paci that would be the end of it. When he finally lost the last paci I recall he cried for it at night and during naps for at least a week. I was terrified, because Abram's best trait his whole babyhood was that he slept like an angel. He often put himself to bed for naps and he always slept through the night. Mostly, he just loved to go up and snuggle with Blanky and his paci. It's funny, in retrospect, how some of the smallest things are these terrifying parenting events in the moment. I think Abram still slept in the crib at this time, but not for very much longer. Eventually we moved the kids into the same bedroom and they were so thrilled. Abram loved having a big bed, but especially loved sleeping next to his big sister and best friend.
Dear Chloe,
You are soon to be four years old. Just mulling over that sentence is enough to give me writer's block. I haven't posted about you in so long. Seriously, I can't find the words. As a good friend once said, "I imagine it is difficult to capture the essence of Chloe in words," and it is. Impossible, almost.
I don't know when or how it happened, but somehow you went from a toddler to a kid. You are constantly rolling your eyes. Sometimes just to be funny, and sometimes just to be a shit. A few months ago while we were lying in your bed just talking I said "well, duh." You asked me what "duh" meant, and I spent a few minutes trying to teach you. What I told you was to point to the green grass and ask, Is that blue? and when they respond with, No, it's green, you hit your head with the palm of your hand and say Ummm duh! Eventually, you gathered a deep enough understanding of the phrase to use in context. I created a monster.
You dress yourself in some variation of the same outfit every day: tights, poofy skirt, and shirt (if any of it matches, it's out of pure coincidence). You went through a phase about a year ago where you would only wear cat shirts. You are a little more flexible now - typically opting for Hello Kitty shirts, Ninja Turtle shirts, or anything that is two sizes too small or stained. You have a giant collection of hand-me-down poofy skirts, so finding one is never a problem.
You go to preschool twice a week. You love your teachers, Miss Ronda and Miss Susan, so much. Your best friend in the whole world is in your class, Ezra. He is basically one of the only kids you play with and you are so obsessed with him it's frightening. Your teachers are so amazed at how smart you are and especially at how strong you are. They say they have never had a kid in "3's" who can make it all the way across the monkey bars with no assitance. You are a beast!
Abram loves trucks, cars, tractors, and trains; he demands to wear shirts that display trucks, cars, tractors, or trains; and, he can say only the essential words: snacKK, coo-kee, juish, NO, and shoe. He is a shoe fanatic. I mean, seriously, it's pretty annoying. Kid has been throwing his shoes in my face since he was 14 months. Recently he acquired a pair of lace-up Spiderman shoes that are four sizes too big and untie/fall off constantly. We ended up hiding them after weeks of cursing.
**And, oh my gosh, that is all I wrote about my sweet boy. Poor guy! I recall a few things about this age of his, though. I don't recall exactly when we threw out the pacifier, but I feel like it was sometime around here. He kept chucking them all over the place and losing them. We finally decided that when he lost the last paci that would be the end of it. When he finally lost the last paci I recall he cried for it at night and during naps for at least a week. I was terrified, because Abram's best trait his whole babyhood was that he slept like an angel. He often put himself to bed for naps and he always slept through the night. Mostly, he just loved to go up and snuggle with Blanky and his paci. It's funny, in retrospect, how some of the smallest things are these terrifying parenting events in the moment. I think Abram still slept in the crib at this time, but not for very much longer. Eventually we moved the kids into the same bedroom and they were so thrilled. Abram loved having a big bed, but especially loved sleeping next to his big sister and best friend.
Harry and the Hendersons
Here is part of a post I found in my "drafts" from about a year ago in October 2013:
I taught Chloe at an early age to watch television. I mean, I had her on a pretty strict training schedule. If you are wondering about the intensity of the daily regimen, I would compare it to something similar to training for the Olympics, or something like that. She got pretty good at watching television. She is a fast learner, and a dedicated athlete. We started with Sesame Street: baby stuff, literally. We moved on to Dora, then to her kind of sexy cousin, Diego. Things started to spiral out of control after I made the discovery that we had Nickelodeon. We never knew this, because we never bothered with the channels that were not delivered in HD, because it burns my eyes. We hit rock bottom I'd say somewhere in the middle of a SpongeBob Square Pants and Cow and Chicken marathon on Cartoon Network. I'm getting really off track here. Point is, Chloe is really good at watching TV whenever anyone needs a little break from her madness.
Abram, on the other hand, does not ever even glance in the direction of the glowy picture shows. He is immune to the beauty of it all. He is above it: the lowest of all forms of human entertainment. Why would he bother with the TV when he could be raiding the snack cabinet saying, "nack, nack, nack" or raiding the fridge saying, "cheeez, cheeez, cheeez" or raiding the pantry saying, "coo-kee, coo-kee, coo-kee." He hasn't yet figured out that eating while watching TV is the true American way. So, all of this, all of this babbling is just unnecessary, because what I really want to say is that we finally found a show that Abram likes to watch. It's a movie, actually, and if you were alive in the late 80's you might know of it: Harry and the Hendersons. This little dude will sit there with his giant, blue eyes glued to the screen for the entire movie.
That is where it ends. I totally forgot about that and it makes me sad that having two kids has basically derailed this whole blogging business. I'm going to do my best to jot down a few stories here and there to remember the little things. Like the movie that turned Abram into a TV watching genius. Add to that The Sandlot, The Goonies, Ghostbusters, and any other classic 80's/90's kid classic. Watching TV with Abram is so much better than watching it with Chloe. Kid's got taste.
I taught Chloe at an early age to watch television. I mean, I had her on a pretty strict training schedule. If you are wondering about the intensity of the daily regimen, I would compare it to something similar to training for the Olympics, or something like that. She got pretty good at watching television. She is a fast learner, and a dedicated athlete. We started with Sesame Street: baby stuff, literally. We moved on to Dora, then to her kind of sexy cousin, Diego. Things started to spiral out of control after I made the discovery that we had Nickelodeon. We never knew this, because we never bothered with the channels that were not delivered in HD, because it burns my eyes. We hit rock bottom I'd say somewhere in the middle of a SpongeBob Square Pants and Cow and Chicken marathon on Cartoon Network. I'm getting really off track here. Point is, Chloe is really good at watching TV whenever anyone needs a little break from her madness.
Abram, on the other hand, does not ever even glance in the direction of the glowy picture shows. He is immune to the beauty of it all. He is above it: the lowest of all forms of human entertainment. Why would he bother with the TV when he could be raiding the snack cabinet saying, "nack, nack, nack" or raiding the fridge saying, "cheeez, cheeez, cheeez" or raiding the pantry saying, "coo-kee, coo-kee, coo-kee." He hasn't yet figured out that eating while watching TV is the true American way. So, all of this, all of this babbling is just unnecessary, because what I really want to say is that we finally found a show that Abram likes to watch. It's a movie, actually, and if you were alive in the late 80's you might know of it: Harry and the Hendersons. This little dude will sit there with his giant, blue eyes glued to the screen for the entire movie.
That is where it ends. I totally forgot about that and it makes me sad that having two kids has basically derailed this whole blogging business. I'm going to do my best to jot down a few stories here and there to remember the little things. Like the movie that turned Abram into a TV watching genius. Add to that The Sandlot, The Goonies, Ghostbusters, and any other classic 80's/90's kid classic. Watching TV with Abram is so much better than watching it with Chloe. Kid's got taste.
The Severed Arm
Last week we visited Matt and Sara in their new house. Sara must have been in the middle of putting
away her Halloween decorations and the first thing Chloe noticed upon entry was
the bloody, severed rubber arm lying in the middle of the living room. Terrified, she ran and hid. Upon the realization that Chloe was scared of
the arm, Paul seized the opportunity to chase her around the house with it
while she literally screamed in horror.
Later that evening we sat in the basement listening to a Bob and Tom
song called TOAST! The adults lounged on the couch cracking up
at the song. Chloe sat and listened,
occasionally smiling and forcing a laugh.
The next day Chloe said to me, “Mom, remember when Matt played that song
about toast? Well, while he played it I
kept imagining that the arm was upstairs dancing.” She laughed a little. I held mine back. I told Paul about it later that night
basically ending the story in tears from laughing so hard. I told him I just envision her sitting there
in that basement looking at all of the stupid, stupid adults as they laugh and
laugh, because don’t they know there is a
freaking severed arm upstairs dancing in the office? I love moments like that to remind me
what it feels like to be a child. Like,
50% thinking your parents are the best people in the whole world and 50%
thinking your parents are just enormous assholes.
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