She's Baaaack!

My heart and my head are finally full of something light-hearted and happy. And my belly is full of babies!

I am 19 weeks pregnant (The halfway mark in a twin pregnancy!) and due in late January, but we hope to make it to Christmas. I'm already large and in charge, scaring coworkers and strangers in my wake. You might get a belly shot or two, but don't hold your breath. Going up stairs I can't catch my breath, but I'm sleeping great. You win some you lose some.

We found out several weeks ago that I'll be the only female of the house. Our littlest boys are doing great. I've been feeling them for a while, but in the past week or two I have felt and seen them from the outside! We had our anatomy scan last week and spines, hearts, kidneys, brains and everything else looked great. They are gaining weight quickly, which is what they want twins to do! 

Baby A, aka "Tot"

Baby B, or "Tater"

Bennett is thrilled to be a big brother in waiting. He now introduces himself as "Hi, I'm Bennett, I'm having two babies." He can't wait to help assemble the cribs and has learned how to hang tiny baby clothes on hookers (or rather hangers in English.) I might be delusional, but I think he will do great with the additions and he loves to be helpful and needed. I think he was made for the job.

Otherwise, Bennett is great! Recently, I have been exploding with excitement over Bennett's artwork at home. All of the drawings I have ever had from Bennett are big crazy squiggles and lines. For. Years. Then, Monday night, he sat down and drew grass, clouds, and a network of pipes underground. You could have knocked me over with a feather. His friend was visiting and he was having trouble drawing a person. Bennett leaned over and helped draw a body, a face, hair! THEN, last night, Bennett drew the little dipper. I kid you not, stars making up a constellation. This kid is full of surprises I tell you.

With all of these changes on the horizon, I was in a big hurry to join the ranks of soccer moms and drive big ole minivan.

Basically, since we last spoke, I got big and fat, bought a gas guzzler and continued to overpopulate the globe. I honestly couldn't be happier.

Making Merry Memories

Bennett is at such a special age this Christmas. Last year, I was able to enjoy the fact that he was old enough to appreciate the decorations, the treats and the presents without all the gimme gimmes that accompany the season. Unfortunately, I am not sure we can say the same this Christmas. This child has changed his mind about his list about 14,000 times including things from pirate telescopes to drums to capes to trucks with buttons. Thankfully, I've been able to fulfill some of the more reason requests and ignore the ridiculous. Ahem, arrrr.

We are also trying to start a few family traditions while also taking stock of what we should really be grateful for this season. I found an adorable advent calendar at a craft shop and was thrilled to find that the little pockets were large enough to accommodate chocolate, matchbox cars or even Christmas socks. I was not thrilled to find my little sheister starting to request more and more preposterous things for said advent calendar. Ahem, arrr and vroom vroom and toot toot. I do think it is possible Christmas jumped the shark around the third of December. My hopes for the advent calendar were further dashed when I noticed I purchased an advent calendar with a typo.

Ok, let's try another memory maker. Let's do something kind for a stranger! I spent several hours in the cooking, baking and decorating for our local fire station. When we arrived the fire fighters were very engrossed in their lunch and didn't seem to be very surprised that a toddler was giving them cookies. Then, said toddler remained too embarrassed to sit in the fire truck or even say Merry Christmas. Ahh, maybe next year?

When it came time to visit Santa I believed I had done enough coaxing to persuade my little munchkin that he didn't need to be afraid. Sure, he had been negotiating that he wouldn't sit on his lap, but rather sit next to him and in no way would he be coaxed onto his lap. I was so proud when he stood in that line for nearly an hour with nary a tear or a groan. By the time we were up next he flipped out and told me I had to go up there with him. And that is how I found myself in the Santa picture for a second year in a row.

At least he looks happy, right? Of course, as I went to pay the elves, he stood there chatting with St. Nick for a good five more minutes, delaying the rest of the kiddos. I would have much rather had a picture of that!

However you choose to celebrate, I hope your holiday is very Merry!

That's What B Said

A: Hey Bennett, I'm going upstairs to change my clothes.

B: Ok, don't pee on your pants!

I was headed out to a meeting, hugged Bennett and started to leave. Bennett chased after me.

B: "No mommy, boys need two hugs!"

While we were trick or treating, we came upon a crumbled retaining wall.

B: "No worries. I can fix it. I'm a super hero!"

After wandering around Rocky's office, B discovered something was missing.

B: There's no toys around here. Can you believe it?

Typical bedtime shenanigans, typical bedtime toot.

B: I didn't toot, it was my engine.

A: Your engine?

B: Yeah, it's broken.

Halloween With A Toddler

It was Bennett's fourth Halloween. For his first, he was only two days old and I was worried I would break him or something if I put him in his little pumpkin shirt. For his second, he cooperated and wore the sweetest little cow costume a mommy could find. Then last year, he had an epic meltdown when I tried to clothe him like the Cat in the Hat. Giant Failure of Epic Proportions.

I figured I had one last year to play up the adorable card before he wanted to accessorize with weapons or imitate an obnoxious video game character or some such nonsense. I selected not one, not two, but three costumes that were greeted with horror, stomping and the squealing of "NONONONONO!" But mommy really wants you to be a little lion, or a gentle bat. A pirate? 

Then one day a couple weeks ago, a friend brought Spider Man cupcakes to celebrate his birthday at school. My not quite three year old had decided. I ordered a fourth costume and a book about super hero to hopefully coax him into the costume. It might not have been my choice, but I did not want to have the one kid who refused to cooperate at the pumpkin party.

The package arrived and he wouldn't let me open it. Halloween arrived and he wouldn't let me try it on. When I told him kids who wore costumes got candy, he insisted he didn't want candy. Walking into his class he told me to take it out of his backpack and throw it away. But then, he saw two other spidermen and a Super Man. He wanted that thing on and he wanted it on "NOWNOWNOW!" He even wore the mask. I could hardly believe it.

There was severe weather here last night, so we get Halloween take II tonight. I am hoping for a few more smiling, less blurry pictures for the occasion. At least when he wears a mask he will smile for the camera!

2013 Is Not the Year of the Blog

So, in response to my lack of posts, I am going to fill you in with some pictures from my absence. In summary, my kid is still cute.

Master Cupcake Eater

Not embarrassed of his mom quite yet

Driver on the right side of the car, barn in the passenger's seat and cute kid relegated to the back.

Staying in the lines. 

Time for a haircut.

And a live action feed:

Pantless Joe Jackson

Dinosaurs on their 225 millionth birthday

Flashback Friday: My Banshee Alien Munchkin

I woke up this morning yearning for that little feeling you have when you hold a pint-sized munchkin on your chest. I miss that sense of completeness when you hold a sweet, snuggly baby. He sleeps so deeply you can spend all afternoon leaning over to smell his newborn head.

 

Just 2.5 years later, you are left with this:

 

You ask to take his picture and he mocks you with this cheeseface. He won't sit still long enough to smell his mane and you probably don't want to because he's sweaty from playing outside. At least these days he can hold up his head and can tell you exactly why he's screaming like a banshee. That, and I'm not holding him on my chest at midnight, 2:30 and 5:00 am.

 

I stumbled across this video today that reminded me of that snuggly baby on the chest phase. It was  also a good reminder of those first few weeks when you feel like you gave birth to a tiny alien.

Also, praise the Lord Bennett didn't walk that early. We all would have been in deep trouble.

PS, What we learned 33 months is still coming. I'm just lazy. Note to future self, yes you cheated and posted it on the correct day despite your slacker tendencies.

We Must Be Doing Something Right

My little boy decided to reward me for weeks of crazy bedtime routines. Sunday afternoon at nap time, I asked him if he wanted to thank Jesus for anything special. His response, "Thank you Jesus for bubbles, cookies and cheeseburgers." About what I expected. Then he surprised me, "thank you for my family and my teachers." This kid is two, not seven. Apparently, Elmo and Teddy Grahams are paying off in the church nursery more than I thought.

That same night, I went to tuck him in after attending a bbq where he was the only one under the age of 29. I thanked him for being such a good boy and not poking anyone in the eyeballs with the s'mores sticks. I think he understood the compliment. "Thank you mommy for reading me books." My heart melted a little.

I may let him watch Cars one too many times and I may let him get away with going to bed without brushing his teeth more often than I should. But it's these moments that show what a little miracle I'm raising and he might not turn out half bad.

And I also let him eat chips and guacamole, but at least not when he orders it for breakfast.

Where Did We Last Leave Off, aka The One with the Parantheses

Oh yeah, I was still blabbering about my kid. Not much is going to change about that today (Foreshadowing: NOT MUCH IS GOING TO CHANGE ABOUT THAT FOR QUITE SOME TIME. We haven't even reached the part where he can pull up his own pants.) So, it's been awhile, huh?  Apologies. I've been living life and trying to keep my head above water. I hear that's quite common for a mom of a toddler. Here's what you've missed:

My kid may not be able to pull up his own pants, or tie his shoes, or for heaven's sake affix his velcro sandals, but he has reached the age of photo taking hatred. It breaks my heart. For example, yesterday I ran in the house and dropped off  a load of groceries only to find my pint-size child sticking his head out the sunroof. (Mother of the year right here!) The look of pride on that boy's face was priceless, but the instant I reached for my phone, he ducked and started whining about no cameras. You think he was chased by the paparazzi in a past life? (I understand if you stop reading the blog if it has no photos... if you haven't already.)

We hosted a bbq with the neighbors. It was our first real foray into entertaining in our new home, nearly a year after we moved in. We're such fabulous hosts that we served our hipster-locavore neighbors their child's first hot dog. At least the cardiologist's son knew what it was.

The family made a trip to the King farm. After a tortuous drive there (My child would not rest. He wanted nothing to do with dinner and did not seem to understand holiday weekend traffic), it was lovely. We arrived, handed the barnacle to the grandparents and disappeared for a few hours of uninterrupted conversation, more driving, and some retail therapy. The return ride began as a repeat of our ride there, non-stop chatter interrupted by some whining followed by a dose of traffic confusion. Happily, mid-way home he announced, "I want to take a nap." Alrighty then! I am really hoping this was not a preview of our eight our drive to the beach next month.

Tip from the Expert (I'm no expert.): They can't protest if they are sleeping.

Quirky

Did you know Bennett has a spot on the couch? The middle cushion. If he wants to sit there, you are not allowed to touch it, unless of course you're they're to act as a pillow. But for the love, blankets can't touch him, the throw pillows can't touch him and certainly we can't let Atticus touch him. It's his spot.

My son totally needs a translator. It's a good thing I am fluent in Bennett. Even when his enunciation is perfect, he needs a little help.

Spikes=splinters. "Mommy, my hand hurts. I have spikes."

Carbins=black birds. They are not robins or cardinals, they are carbins.

Beep it out=walk in reverse and beep like a dump truck.

On top of the couch-sitting particularities and funny word associations, my child has developed a rather quirky bedtime routine. We read books, then brush our teeth, followed promptly by hide and go seek. We wrestle him into pajamas, read more books. When we can finally turn out the light, we must lay on the floor with two blankies and a teddy bear. We sing songs, but must start the routine with Old MacDonald. Did you know Old MacDonald had some hot dogs on his farm?

Another Bennett quirk is his love of the grocery store. It may have something to do with the free balloons and cookies. Now that Harris Teeter kindly put a place for him to enjoy said cookie, it's hard to get him to leave. That's normal, right?

Raising an Aspiring Foodie

Ok, so my child prefers hot dogs and grilled cheese over duck confit and banh mi. But we are getting a glimpse of the foodie he may become. He loves to chop vegetables, wash produce and grate cheese. He has an extensive collection of play food. Grocery shopping is a favorite activity, and when he sees a grown up book without pictures, he points and says "recipes." I would like to think we are on the right track with this one.

When we drove by the park several weeks ago and I explained that springtime was almost here, he asked, "Food trucks?" Yes, my little gourmand, springtime signals the return of the farmer's market and therefore food trucks. So, imagine his delight when the mall had a mechanical motorcycle, race car and food truck! My kid was in heaven.

We have a ways to go to get this kid on board with proper restaurant etiquette and exploring past the finger foods. But I know that I am doing at least one thing right, imposing my interests on my child. 

This kid is ALL boy

 

He loves tools. Saws, hammas, skewdivas, piyas, tape measuas and booms.

 

He loves working in the yard, digging holes, and even picking up worms. Ewww.

 

But when I bought this kid a toy drill, you would have thought I hung the moon. Considering his admiration, I should have saved it for a more momentous occassion, like pre-school graduation, his first communion, or maybe his first Nobel Peace Prize. The only thing better than the love of his new power tool (it lights up! it spins! it makes noise!), was the fact that after he drilled his first nail into the tool bench, he said: "arr arr arr," just like Tim the Tool Man Taylor.

 

I think this goes beyond genetics folks because his father failed to hang curtains for at least the fifth time in his handyman career. Maybe it just skips a generation?

Webby

To most this is a picture of some scribble.  To a mother, this is the evolution of an artist.  You see, Bennett typically likes to draw with one color, big giant circles with some angry dots thrown in for good measure.  Other times, his creation is limited to one corner or a stray line as he runs off to the next activity. 

When I picked up his art at school, I was thrilled to see this artistic interpretation.  It wasn't a landscape or a still life, but when a mother anticipates another answer of "circles" you'll be delighted when you hear him reply, "spider webs."  I'm sure my face lit up and I hugged him a little too tight.  I think I'll just pretend it has nothing to do with the fact he found a web in his room, or the fact that he's watched a certain Curious George episode with spider webs one too many times. 

My kid has an imagination!  It's almost like that time when he told his grandmother that he ate the soap and therefor couldn't take a bath.  Except that time he was just plain old lying. 

Chwistmas with a Two Yea Old

If I haven''t said it before, I'll say it again.  I wish I could spend every Christmas with a two year old.  They have a basic understanding of the decorations, the reindeer, the big man.  They can sing along to the music and point out the "decowations" from the back seat.  They get excited about the tree and most certainly, the pwesents.  They don't have that gimme gimme attitude just yet either.

 

The gimme gimme doesn't arrive until Christmas Eve when they get their first taste of present opening.  For Bennett, it didn't so much matter what was in the box, as long as it meant shredding of paper and moving on to the next package.  In fact, it didn't matter if the gift was for him, as long as it meant more, more!

 

 

Now, this is a good thing because I knew between the grandparents, aunts and cousins this kid was going to be spoiled and wouldn't give much credit to Santa or his parents.  Mommydaddy (we're frequently one word around here) gifted clothes and books.  Santa got a break with the requested hard hat, (play) food, fireman rainboots (that he won't wear), and play dough.  I suppose we shouldn't be surprised that the biggest hit was the $5 assorted play dough accessories.

 

There were many other winners this Christmas.  A cash register, "It works!" McQueen cars, two "hammas," a bowling set, and a socca ball.

 Guess what the socca ball is now used for! 

Occassionally, two yea olds remember to say "gank you."  If not, a hug will suffice.

 

And this will be the only family photo captured for all prosperity.

 

If you haven't already experienced a Christmas season with a two-year old, I highly recommend you do it .  At least once.  Maybe a few times.

The Scared List

Our first trip to Santa was successful. At just five weeks old, Bennett woke up, smiled on cue and fell back asleep. Last year, he was too scared to even cry.

 

I tried to prepare Bennett this year. I told him Santa is a nice man; he brings good kids toys. He laughs like a bowl full of jelly.

  

When we arrived at the Country Music Hall of Fame to tell the big man about his desire for a hard hat, he waved from a distance. He whispered his wish list ("hard hat, toys, food"). When we got to the front of the line, his legs gripped my waist and his little fingers pinched my skin. As we approached, he started screaming. I couldn't even set him on the old man's lap. 

 

 

Maybe next year?

He's on the Smart List

 

Yesterday morning, Bennett and I were playing with his talking dump truck.  (Everyone has one of those, right?).  The dump truck told Bennett to put his hard hat on.  Bennett looked at me with a confused face and said, "I want a hard hat."  I asked him if he would like one for Christams and if so, he should ask Santa Claus when we see him next.  His confused face returned, then he ran into the dining room, looked at the framed picture of Baby Bennett sitting on Santa's lap and said, "Hard hat please!"

And then I died. And then, I put one in my shopping cart. 

What We Learned: 25 Months

Even with his mouth full of cheeseburger, this boy is a talker.  He is a storyteller.  He is astute and curious, asking questions and more often, giving directions.  Some might call that bossy, but we'll just say he's opinionated. 

Bennett learned to properly say pizza.

We learned how sad it is to say good bye to his baby talk, but at least we still have "gank you."

Bennett learned to be (video) camera shy.

We learned we may never get a "gank you" on tape.

Bennett learned to whine his way into getting what he wants.

We learned that secret to a dinner out is youtube and an Iphone.

Bennett learned how to feed the cows and turkeys.

We learned that Bennett thinks the calves are his babies.

Bennett learned the words to "Wheels on the Bus," and "Going on a Bear Hunt."

We learned what windshield wipers, bus drivers and caves can be relevant to just about any conversation.

Bennett learned to correctly identify guitar, drum and piano in a song.

We learned that it doesn't take much to be more musically inclined than his parents. 

Bennett learned to say "getta outta my way."

We learned that 24 months isn't too long to wait to hear "I love you."

Bennett was a good little monkey

And always curious!

 

Let me preface this deluge of personal photos by saying that my child loves George.  Loves.  Like if he has 100 books, he gravitates to the old ratty Curious George from my childhood.  Like, if you want him to eat his vegetables, turn on PBS and he will not only eat his peas, he will let you comb his hair and brush his teeth.  There really wasn't any doubt how we'd celebrate my big boy turning 2...

 

...with a really ridiculous cake compensating for the fact that no bakery supports copywrighted images!

And for the second year in a row, we had balloon drama.  Poor B had no 'boons!  At least his mom got fake crafty.

Who wouldn't make a whirlwind day trip for a kid that won't remember who was there?

At least I allowed a couple kids to help party!

A 'tar, for writing more original lyrics like his breakout hit, Mommadad mommadad...

He tried so hard to blow out that candle.

Good thing the cake serves dozens because all he wants is the frosting.

 

His real birthday was yesterday.  I took the day off because I make a big deal about my own birthday and now I can spend my energy on someone who really deserves it.  I tortured him with a trip to get a bicycle helmet and a trip to the mall to get another kid a present.  But we did get to practice riding our new bike and have a nice lunch just the two of us. 

 

Last year, his birthday felt like it was as much my party as his.  I was proud to celebrate 365 days of surviving bad sleep, nursing, pumping, and unpredictable mood swings.  While our sleep has moderately improved, his favorite food is now frosting, and the mood swings are still pervasive, he is now his own person and not just an extension of my body.  However, he will always be an extension of my heart.