11 months

I say this every time I update on the boys.  Or really pretty much every post in general.  Where did the last year go?  Here we are, 11 months, planning the first birthday party, preparing for walkers, little talkers, eaters, and down right ornery stinkers.

Best picture ever.  Look at those buns!

Sam and Will both have a look now that they throw us just before they are about to touch something they know they shouldn't.  Sam has it down pat.  Will is working on his a little, but I think Will is so smart he just knows sometimes that he shouldn't even tip us off with the look, so he just moves on to getting himself into something he shouldn't.  Like pulling up on a bar stool and pushing it slowly around the kitchen (holding my breath for fear of the stool coming over on him).  Sam is also pulling up and walking with support very slowly.  I think it will only be a matter of months before we have two experienced walkers.  Which I am honestly okay with.  Lillian started taking steps alone at 11 1/2 months, so I doubt in two weeks they'll be that advanced.  I'm holding out hope for no walking until around 14 months.

Both boys are talking a little, the usual... Dada, baba, ta ta ta.  No Mama yet, which is always the case right?  They aren't really associating their words with things yet, except for maybe Dada.  We've had a few of those jump out when Daddy walks in the door from work or at nap time.  And speaking of naps, the little guy, William, has started to catch up with his brother.  We've had a pretty good run of 45 minute morning naps and hour and a half afternoon naps.  Here and there we get a short one, but I knew all along this little guy needed more sleep and had to learn how to get it.  I think he's finally there (though not today of course).

William

Both boys are decent eaters, but very different.  Sam wants to be fed his icky soft baby food from a spoon.  Will wants to eat any table food small and soft enough to gum and large enough to pinch in his little left hand.  This kid really will eat anything I put in front of him.  Thank God.  I hope Sam catches on soon, but the only way I can get him to eat a vegetable right now is to spoon feed the puree.  Its like he already knows the green and orange things on the tray are veggies, like he and his sister are having private conversations about a vegetable boycott.  Somehow this is inbred in my children.  Lilli would eat a piece of rigatoni with red sauce and peas.  She'd chew up a noodle with a pea hidden inside and spit out the pea - whole.  We have discovered a few things Sam will pick up and eat like he's never eaten before - pizza and grilled cheese.  I suppose the apple doesn't fall far...

Will is showing signs of being a lefty, much like his sister did this young.  He sucks his left thumb and eats with his left hand.  Sam also eats with his left hand, but sucks his right thumb.  I know its way too early to tell, but I think it would be the coolest thing in the world if I had three left handed kids.  They all three got their Daddy's coloring, so I can only hope they might get this from me.  John would not be too disappointed with left handed or ambidextrous sons because it might mean good things for them and their future baseball careers.

Samuel

We haven't been to the doctor in two months so I decided to weigh them today in my non-scientific way.  I got on the scale and then got on with each of them.  I can't believe it but I think Will is about 20 pounds and Sam about 21 pounds.  If you picked them up, you would think Will is a feather.  He is so slight and Sam is so thick they seem about 5 pounds different.  All along its been only about a pound so I suppose 20 and 21 pounds is probably about right.

Lillian's first pool visit, 11 months

The boys both seem tiny to John and I both when we think about Lillian at the same age.  But I think we just didn't know any different with her.  And she's always seemed a little older and wiser than her years, so maybe we just have a skewed memory of her size as well.  I know at one year she was only 20 pounds.  So I looked back at some pictures and was reminded of some things we went through when she was 11 months.  We moved into this house, it was her first summer pool visit, and we discovered her allergy to Penicillin.

Amoxicillin allergy rash.  Scary times.

She doesn't look ornery at all.

Looking back at the pictures, she doesn't seem that big.  Especially in comparison to this beautiful little girl that she is becoming now.  She is so sweet and funny when she wants to be.  She's becoming quite shy and reserved around other kids, but we see an entirely different side of her at home.  One that often involves some screaming, crying, and time out - and its not always just her doing the screaming and crying.  She will be 3 years old two months from today (the 25th is a big day around here ) and it shows.  She wants to be independent, but she wants NOTHING to do with the toilet.  She wants anything and everything to be hers and most conversations are all about Lilli.  3 is a very self-centered age, we've discovered.  But also one where the words flow almost like ours and her little shiny, sweet personality brings us back down to earth and reminds us why 3 is also a really fun age.

So next month and the one after will be a big ones in this house.  The boys turn 1 on May 25th.  The girl turns 3 on June 25th.  And my husband enters the last year of his 30's on July 4th.  People tell us all the time how quickly the time goes when the kids are little and to just enjoy it.  I try on a daily basis to just enjoy it - some days are easier than others - and I can't believe my boys are almost 1 and that little tiny P-nut of mine is almost 3 big years. 

A new year

This is a little late, but I want to express to my husband, of now four years, what an incredible husband and father I believe him to be.  We recently celebrated our anniversary, and can now state that we have one more year under our belts than we have children.  Crazy right??  I remember writing my blog last year from our bed and thanking him for being so incredible about bed rest and the stress of having babies early.  I remember writing that we had a very hard year ahead of us, and here we are a year later, really not that worse for the wear.

My mother was here for a week around the 12th, the big day.  So not only do I have him to thank for being such a dream while his mother-in-law is here for a week, but I also have her to thank for her help and support and ability to take on 3 kids so I can go to Target by myself.  John and my mom get along great, so its not super crazy that he's okay with her being here, but it is someone else in the house, in addition to the craziness that already exists here.  Plus she's still a mother-in-law to him, not a mother.  But a whole week goes by with no complaining.  He ignores us as we plot our daily strategy for getting coffee, drinking happy hour wine, and finding time to fit in a little shopping.  And after a week most everyone is ready to get back to the routine, including Grandma.  I say "most" because I am pretty sure Lillian and I both were a little sad to see Grandma go this time.

But before Grandma was ready to go, John and I actually got to dress up and go out for a fancy dinner.  Before dinner, I got my usual half yearly haircut and finished up a new dress I made for myself.  I felt like a new person.  We had a drink at home with Grandma and Aunt and Uncle, then headed out after the babies went down to sleep.  (I cannot explain how much I love a 7:30pm bedtime.)  For dinner, we tried Story in Prairie Village, after hearing mixed reviews, and ended up loving it.  Then we sauntered down the street for another drink and dessert (wish we'd stayed at Story in hindsight). It was a very, very nice night.

John always treats me nice.  Always has, and I believe always will.  I've been getting flowers regularly for special occasions, or no occasion at all, since the very beginning.  He did not fail this year with a dozen hot pink roses.  And when I got up during our dinner to use the restroom (after 2 very, very nice cocktails) I came back to a little box hidden under my napkin.  Much to my surprise he'd purchased me a gift in a year that we decided to get ourselves a new basement as our gift for pretty much every holiday.  I was shocked to open my little blue diamond earrings, and will likely wear them every day for the next 6 months until I decide to clean them and put them right back in.

The only thing I have to show from my week.

The wonderful husband-ness doesn't stop there.  This past week, John took Friday off.  Thinking we'd get a little done around the house while we just had the boys at home, and Lillian was at school.  After taking Lilli to school, he told me to get out of the house and do whatever I wanted to do.  Seriously?  There's almost too much for me to want to do, and half of it I want to do with him, so I went shopping.  And it was a lovely 2 hours alone.  He told me to go all day and just come back with Lilli when school was over, but I couldn't do it.  I had to come home and spend some time with him as well, that was what I wanted to do.

Then Saturday, I got to get up and have someone else do my toes for the first time in almost a year.  I went to the Waldo coffee shop, One More Cup, got a root beer chai tea latte and headed off to the spa to get pampered for an hour.  And my toe color... the same color as the earrings.

Some of this may seem like the norm to most of you.  But there is nothing normal about me going out for a fancy dinner, wearing new clothes, getting a haircut, flowers, jewelry, a pedicure and some free time to myself all within one week.  This was my life before kids, and maybe it will be again when my kids are a bit older.  But all of this at one time is very special to me right now.  And its all made possible by my wonderful best friend.  I believe we've made it through one rough year and it's really only made us stronger.  Here's to the next year going just as well, but hopefully better!  Happy 4 years John, I Love You.

The eye of the beholder, Part II

So I mentioned earlier that sometimes things get thrown in this house, purely out of frustration.
This is what happens to a real grilled cheese sandwich when your kids are so crazy and distracting that the scrumptious thing burns right on the grill.

Can you see it?  Smack dab in the middle, caught between two tiny branches.  John couldn't do this again if he tried.  So after a few angry groans, we ended up cracking up for a good while.

The eye of the beholder

This morning I spoke with a friend from college.  Not one I speak with often, but one who remains as uplifting and hilarious as ever.  And though the conversation was centered around some rather sad news, I came away from it with a renewed outlook on the little space that surrounds me everyday.

I will refrain from speaking too much of the sadness we shared, out of respect for the family.  But I just have to say one thing.  I cannot seem to grasp the idea that people my age, people I know, people I don't, and people I should have probably known better, are passing away suddenly.  People in their mid-thirties should not know so much about cancer, possibilities of cancer down the road, cancer recovery, heart attacks, strokes, fatal complications from the flu or pneumonia, or any other random act of God that seems to change, or take, the life of a friend, spouse, mother, father, brother or sister.  I realize I am getting older, but mid-life is still a handful of years away, and I don't even want to think about the hardships I might hear about by that point in time.

So during the conversation, my friend and I moved on to happier talk of our kids and families and old friends.  She told me that she reads this blog - which thrills me to no end.  She also told me that she and another friend from college discuss the blog and think that it looks like I've got it all "together."  To this I had to cynically laugh.

I have no idea what this picture looks like from the outside beholder.  But from the inside, it is chaos.  I think John and I are doing well, as well as to be expected I suppose.  But we have some very trying times.  Yesterday as a matter of fact, was an extremely rough day for me.  My almost 3 year old is becoming VERY obstinate.  People tell me all the time "3 is harder than 2!"  Well, I get it now.  And she isn't even 3 yet.

There were several points in the first three days of this week that I wanted to walk out the door.  Of course I would never do so.  But I think everyone should know that sometimes I find myself thinking or even doing something that I don't even think represents who I am as a mother, or even as a person.  This was also a part of my morning conversation with my friend.  We both spoke of instances with our children where we find ourselves doing something that we never in a million years thought we would do.  And I'm not talking about something like cleaning up poop out of the carpet.  I'm talking emotions and reactions.

People know me as a fairly laid back person.  I am a bit type A with my need for organization and cleanliness (although these tendencies are basically gone after the last year of my life) but for the most part I am pretty relaxed.  My husband probably still hears "I don't care" way too much for his liking.  But when it comes to my kids, its like I turn green and transform entirely.  My level of patience is pretty much non-existent and my fuse entirely too short.  I have been known to throw things in a fit of frustration.  Don't worry, no need to call Child and Family Services, no one is getting hurt in this house, but there is a definite case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde around here.

Last night John and I sat down and had a conversation about how we hope we aren't ruining our children.  I am sure every new parent might have this thought from time to time.  Or maybe not.  Maybe you are all confident and composed and have perfect children all the time, and we are the only loose screws that believe parenting is the hardest thing we've ever done.  But so it is for us, the hardest thing we've ever done.

That being said, I cannot believe that my frustrations, and screaming episodes, and the need to throw a handful of Cheerios across the room from time to time will have a more adverse affect on my children than if I were not in their lives at all.  The loss my friend and I spoke of this morning puts this into such a bold perspective.  I am so grateful for my life and my health and that of my husband and children.  Who knows what the future holds for us, but this morning was just another reminder that we need to live life in the moment.  Its an all too important fact that can so easily be forgotten when dealing with small children, one income, job stress (or lack thereof), saving for college, and hoping to one day have a stress free retirement.   I love my little babies so much, even when they frustrate me.  I love that I get to stay home with them.  And I hope I will be in their lives to make them crazy for a very long time.

Needless to say, despite the sadness I feel in my heart, today has been a much less stressful day.