A different kind of angel

The angel I married.

Did this.






So The Boy could do this.






Thanks Daddy!

Happy, Merry Everything!

From our little monkeys to you.

And yes, it snowed again today. Praying for melting.....

Two Thousand Eight

also known as The Year the Snowstorm Caused a Little More Drama Than Usual.


So far, we have survived. Barely. If more snow arrives, we can't promise how Mommy will do.

Bitty Girl asked, "Mommy, what do you want for Christmas?"
I replied, "I WANT THE SNOW TO MELT FOR CHRISTMAS!"


Luckily, we had pictures taken before the snow arrived to make our lives difficult.

Thanks to Sara Montgomery, sister of my friend Kaia and talented photographer, for making us look better than we usually do!




Whew! We took one by the tree in case we don't make it for a Santa picture by tomorrow!
And look - they stood nicely together without arguing for approximately 5 seconds!


Someone cleans up well! (makes up for the World's Worst School Picture 2008)


She even managed to capture a real smile, which is elusive these days.


Bitty Girl didn't mind posing....

Especially if she had her favorite dolly.

We are sending lots of love and holiday wishes that you find much peace, laughter, and happiness in your lives in 2009.

Hold the 's'

We have noticed that 2 yr olds tend to drop the beginning letter "s" from their words.


Bitty Girl's droppage has been a source of much entertainment around here.

"I need a _poon!"

"The Boy _pit on me!"

"I want _prinkles on my cupcake"

"The water _prayed on me"

"That is too _cary" (usually about one of her brother's movies or books)

"My _paghetti looks like a _pider"

"Santa going to put presents in my _tocking"

"I dizzy because I _pin around and around"

"I got a _ticker for going pee on the potty!"

"This ribbon is _parkly"

"Papa _teve pulled weeds with me"

"_top it, Lance!"

"I want to _pread the butter all. by. myself!"

"Twinkle, twinkle, little _tar!"

"At _chool (pronounced cool), teacher Crystal rub my back for nap"

And another random but darling one:

"I want to see Maggie's picture on the ___puter" (computer)



But by far the best one of the day... almost made me forget about the 5 day snowstorm...


Bitty Girl to me as she surveys the living room, trying to figure out the best baby doll napping placement:

"This needs to be a all baby place. Why you put all those toys here?"

(Said accusingly, as she points to her brother's twelve birthday gifts that are under the Christmas tree, for lack of a better place until we sort things out, post-Christmas carnage)

Me: "Where should I put them?"

Bitty G: "In the SAMILY room!"

Samily. A room for hugs. And toys. I should have known. Silly Mama.

Trying to overcome my grinchiness

I am trying to be "one with the snow." To not be so grouchy. To focus on the family together time and the beautiful snowy world outside instead of the trapped feeling, the missed work, and the way my kids have morphed into the most annoying children ever.

But I'm struggling. I just want it to stop. I know we're lucky because we haven't lost power, because we are warm and safe and dry. I'm lucky because I have Pat home on vacation too, and am not stuck home by myself with abovementioned children.

Some lovely footage shot this morning...

The view out the front door. Right out the door, under the covered porch.

Walkway? What walkway?

The area formerly known as a driveway, and way in the distance, frozen lumps formerly known as the garbage cans.

A snowy day in the forest... I mean, my front yard

Our covered patio. And by covered, I mean covered in SNOW

Sandbox, you say? Where? (see the lump?)

Crazy boys, including one wonderful, dedicated father who braved the 15-degree evening for some snow baseball

In the words of my sister from Pittsburgh to the cities in and around Seattle:

"It's called salt, people. Use it." I do not understand why we can't salt and plow better for just a few weeks. For the sanity of everyone involved.

Blech.

I'll admit it. I'm a Snow Grouch.

I just don't like the snow.

It's not the snow itself, it's the disruption in my schedule, the being cold, and the trapped grouchy feeling. And this time, it's the fact that we already had snow and it's super cold and it's not going away anytime soon. I don't live in the Midwest for a reason.

I wish I loved it. I wish I felt peaceful and happy and could just curl up on the couch with a book and a blanket and some tea.

But I have kids. Kids who are just as sensitive as their mama to disruptions in their schedule. One kid who likes the idea of the snow, but who plays in the snow for less time than it takes to get her ready for going out in the snow.

And another kid who loves to play in the snow, go sledding, and never gets cold. Except he's bitter that the snow ruined his post-birthday dinner with his cousins.

At least someone is enjoying himself.

Until June, that is--when he has to make up the 3 snow days.

Stone cold Bitty Girl

Yesterday I told Bitty Girl it was time to clean up her dolls in the living room.

See previous references to the group sleepovers that have been a regular occurrence--all of her dolls and stuffed animals, placed neatly face-down on various pillows and each covered with a blanket, COVERING my living room floor.

This is definitely from my side of the family--my sister and I had weekly "birthday" parties, where all the stuffed animals would be lined up on the couch.

Bitty examples:

Who me?

Naptime with the babies


Story time

Aerial view - Daddy says this reminds him of Jonestown

Her response to my request? "No, you clean them up."

I patiently explained that it was her job to clean them up, and if she didn't, the dolls would be put in "time-out" for today and she couldn't play with them.

She looks me right in the eye, 100% stone cold serious poker face, and says,

"I find them. I sneak."

SNEAK? A 2 year old? Who does she think she is? And where did she learn that word?

I stayed calm, masking my horrified giggles, and explained that she would not sneak and that I would help her clean them up. Before she had any dessert.

Mommy has to save her trump for the end.

2190 days=72 months=6 years old

To our 6 year old boy,

I really can't believe it. Six.
Maybe it's because it sounds like SIXTEEN, maybe it's the kindergarten thing, or just that you are so long and tall and grown-up these days.

Every year at this time, I find myself wanting to hold you and snuggle more than usual. When the Christmas decorations come out, and we pull out the Christmas tree snow globe that I got from Grandma and Papa while in the hospital with you, I can remember it all.


That crazy pre-Christmas of 2002, where nothing else really mattered and we got to bring home our best present ever on Christmas Day. That little tiny present who peed through a million outfits that first night, who squeaked and squealed and slept every minute you weren't eating for several weeks. Who we kept sequestered for months, avoiding the germs of flu season and other kids.

Today Daddy was talking to you about the day you were born, and I cried remembering that time between 3:30 pm and 6:00 pm when he was up in the NICU with you before I was cleared to go up and visit you. Those hours I didn't realize I had missed, and that don't really matter now, but they still make me cry thinking about it. And we realized how thankful we were--again--that your sister arrived on time, so that you didn't have to wait 11 days to see her, since they don't allow kids in the NICU.

You, thankfully, have had no problems related to your early arrival. Except the fact that your birthday falls eleven days before Christmas. And it's always crazy busy during that time, we have to schedule around holiday parties and the toy stores are sold out. You are tall and smart and healthy and funny--I think I called you a "delightful tornado" one year. You're still delightful, still a tornado.

Since your 5th birthday, you have played on your first t-ball team, broken your arm, gotten four stitches in your eyebrow (a week after your cast came off), played on your first soccer team, and started kindergarten. It's been a big year. You're this close to reading on your own, and I expect it will click any day. You know all the letters and sounds, but the part of actually sitting still long enough to carefully grip your pencil and focus on forming your letters is usually more than you're willing to tolerate for long. You tend to rush through things so you can be the first one done, the first one to do whatever comes next. You have a brain for numbers, like your Daddy, and can add and subtract numbers in your head, love to count everything, and enjoy number games. We even made an equation cake, with 3 + 3 = 6. Ok, so it was because we didn't have a #6 candle, but you still loved it.



School has been an easier transition than we expected, although I wouldn't call it easy. You are still exhausted from all-day kindergarten, but you have an amazing teacher and have made lots of new friends. You are happy at the new school, and we love being five minutes away. Knowing a few kids from soccer definitely helped your comfort level, and you know lots of kids from your class and older kids from recess and class buddies.

We're just experiencing what we've come to expect as the "annual wave of obnoxious" right before your birthday, so we have high hopes for January. Something about holidays and birthday all rolled into one season is a lot for anyone.

Your birthday party was waaaaaay too big and a bit overwhelming, especially for you. I know it's over and you had fun in the end, but I still feel responsible, like I should have predicted it. But I hope you felt celebrated. And by the way, we'll never do that again. Ever.

It may not snow for Christmas, but you had a white birthday. Two inches of snow.. not enough for sledding or snowmen, but enough for a pathetic Northwest snow angel-where-you-can-see-the-deck-poking-through or two..


Wheeeee! It's my birthday!


Angel #1



Angel #2

It's official.

I am officially insane. But I survived.

The Boy's birthday party was today, and we made it. It got slightly out of hand with the invite list and ended up being 12 boys plus The Birthday Boy. Amazingly, they were great.

An hour of bowling, then pizza and cake and some video games.

Bowling..

See? Insane.

No drama, you ask yourself? Of course we have drama. We ALWAYS have drama.

Mr. Competitive had a slight meltdown during the bowling when he realized he wasn't winning, made a few wild tosses. One of these tosses knocked the bumpers down (they put the bumpers out covering the gutters for the little bowlers) so he managed to throw the only gutterball of the afternoon. Oops. He also threw the ball up onto the bumper, so it rolled down his own private gutter.

But he recovered, and I think the other kids barely noticed. Then it was time to eat and he even survived the candles not blowing out on the first few blows. See the smile?

The secret star of the show? Bitty Girl. No interest in bowling, but she just played around the whole time, sat in one of the riding toy cars, and enjoyed a big piece of cake. Angel.

She was only sad when we got home and she realized none of the presents were for her. Waah.

The worst part about inviting 12 kids to a party? You guessed it. Twelve freakin' presents. And he's 6, so I can't exactly donate them all to Toys 4 Tots. But I can cut back what he is getting for Christmas and donate stuff he doesn't know about yet.

But Mama was amazingly calm, so we'll call the day a success, and never have that big of a party again. At least it wasn't at my house so I didn't have to clean up.

Second time around

Since December 12 is a big day in Mama Drama Family history, I'm cringing with nervous anticipation. I think it's supposed to snow. Which would be nothing compared to some of our December 12ths in history.
See 2007 post for details...

But back to my mortification:

Last year I used these words to describe The Boy at 4:
At Nearly-Four, he was just beginning the transformation (to use one of his favorite action figure lines) into a full-fledged, marketed-by-Target-and-Toys-R-Us preschool boy!

Ummmm.. Today I overheard Madam 2 1/2 saying to herself, "Dear Santa, Please bring me some toys. I want a purple horse and some bath toys and a dolly." And every night at dinner, when we're saying grace and what we're thankful for, she says, "I thankful Christmas is coming!"

Transformation complete. 18 months ahead of schedule. Yikes.

It is frightening to see how much earlier younger siblings get the whole television, Halloween candy, Easter candy, Christmas presents, birthdays, toys stores, and treats at Starbucks thing.

On a good note, she also drank from an open cup earlier, can practically dress herself, plays alone for long periods of time, plays with Play-doh rather than eating it, waits patiently at times, doesn't mind if her choice isn't the chosen option, and--please Santa---will be potty trained before she's 3.

I tell myself that 2nd babies will be better adjusted people in the long run, more able to go with the flow, share and compromise, and stand up for themselves. That will help them combat the rotten teeth and early addictions to age-inappropriate cartoons.

Good news and bad news

As an alternative to the daily kindergarten journal writing, The Boy's fabulous teacher gave them a news assignment. They picked Good News or Bad/Sad News and had to write two sentences and draw a picture about their story.

The good news is that he dashed off two sentences willingly, with just some help from me sounding out the words. If you've been following the drama around here, you know about the new love of football. (Pssst... I am very close to being off the hook for most of the sports discussions around here)

If you can't see the photo very well (sorry, dark kitchen..), I'll interpret

THE SEHOCS LOST TO THE PATREOTS. THR QUORTRBAC WS INJRD.

The Seahawks lost to the Patriots. Their quarterback was injured. That was bad news.

And yes, those are shoulder pads and face masks in the picture. Remember, there are lots of fun activities to do when you get done with your news story, so why spend the whole writing time on your picture??

A Birthday Tale

Today is my-ahem--27th or something like that--birthday. I've stopped counting.

(Note to younger sister: That makes you 25, please take note)

Picture if you will, an evening spent in the company of my lovely husband and beautiful children, phad thai noodles, holiday lights and music, handmade cards and gifts, and a family sweet enough to want to surprise me.

Sounds nice, doesn't it? It was nice, but not quite what you think.

I worked today, and planned to come home early enough for what I expected would be birthday dinner prepared by Grandma, as she often does on Wednesday evenings because she's an ANGEL who feeds her son's starving family.

Little did I know that darling husband had secretly plotted to cancel that dinner because he was going to sneak the kids downtown and sweep me away for a surprise birthday dinner. Except that kind of planning isn't easily done as a surprise. I have been known to ruin surprises, to drag them out of people kicking and screaming--it's not pretty.

So when I said I would come home early for dinner, he got nervous and had to tell me. So we planned for the kids to still think it would be a surprise. And we got realistic about the dinner idea. The kids know about the downtown holiday carousel and they know they ate at McDonald's before the carousel last year. So rather than struggle with tired, grouchy picky eaters who have been away from Mommy and Daddy all day, we gave in to the french fries.

So my lovely birthday did consist of a surprise visit downtown, handmade cards, and I did get Thai food from the food court at Westlake while the kids got McDonald's. We did see holiday lights and hear music while on the carousel. And no fits were thrown about McD's being out of the Madagascar toys and happily accepted the Hot Wheels car. Sometimes they amaze us.

Before you pronounce them perfect angels, the evening also involved drumming with chopsticks, whining about wanting to stay later, and crying in the car about where Mommy would sit since the front seat was full.

But you know, we'll take what we can get. And husband gets full points for planned surprise, thoughtfulness, handmade cards, and effort.

Proof of carousel ride. Some people get holiday card-worthy poses, we just get noncompliant almost-6 yr old attitude. Oh well, at least we remembered the camera...

Mama Grinch

I am the Grinch who ruined the Christmas spirit. Partly exhaustion, partly poor planning, but all the way my fault.

We didn't get a chance to get the Christmas decorations out this weekend because we were busy with family gatherings. So today after I picked up the kids at school and we had dinner, I made a bad decision to try some decor unpacking. No tree, just decorations, snowmen, advent calendar, table decorations.

But instead of putting on some music and making it a nice evening, I became the Christmas Grinch.
"Don't touch that! It's fragile!"
"Be careful - that might break!"
"Wait until I'm ready to unpack that!"
"Leave that one here!"
"Hands off!"

Very nice. Great example of the holiday spirit. And all the while, Bitty Girl is exclaiming, "This one is my favorite!" Since she can't remember last year, they're all her favorite!
The Boy was really trying to help, he just got excited. Nothing broke, and so what if it did?

She took all the Christmas bears and dollies and put them to sleep under the holiday placemats and dish towels. Life as usual, just with a holiday style.

The Grinch's heart felt slightly guilty and she vowed to try harder for the rest of the season.

Sliding into home

I did it. 30 posts in 30 days, and it has just about ended me. I would really like to post more often, and if I got more organized, maybe I could save all those funny stories about my kids and post with some regularity.

But really, I'm just staying up too late at night. And after that Thanksgiving weekend o'family, I'm fresh out of stories.
I wish I had some beautiful description of how we played Christmas music today and decorated the house, the kids oohing and aahing as each ornament was unwrapped. Well, not really, but I wish I had taken a nap, done the decorating, and maybe figured out how we can get Christmas lights strung up with no outlet in the front yard.

But let's get real. I did vacuum, we finished the laundry, Pat took the Boy swimming, and we met a new cousin. My stepsister's 6 month old baby Mazie who is so adorable my kids couldn't keep their hands off her. The Boy wanted to hold her, and Bitty Girl wanted to boss her around. Luckily she's a happy, tolerant baby and her parents aren't neurotic first-timers like I was. They didn't hurt her, just a few extra-large hugs and one toppling over backward into the couch.
Now I'm just crossing my fingers that they weren't a vortex of infectious disease, silently infecting her with some nasty cold and cough that doesn't show up until Monday or Tuesday this week.

I should have plenty of blog fodder for December, given that it includes my 36th birthday (ouch), The Boy's 6th birthday, birthday party, family dinner, a couple of Christmas parties, a photo shoot, and 2 weeks off school. If I can just get some sleep.

Post Turkey Day turkeys

Whew. The end of a long family Thanksgiving weekend. Lots of food, lots of family, lots of food.

Kids were amazing, as I reflect back upon the long stretches of time they played together with minimal screaming.

As they get older (cousins are 7, 6, 5, 5, 4, 3, 2, 2, and 1) the bigger ones are more into board games, which keep them occupied longer.

Also introduced this year was the famous Magnavox Odyssey 2, which was Dad's first video game system from 1978. The in-laws still have it, and it was a huge hit! Either they're too young to be completely spoiled by the new games, or they were in awe that something so old still worked.

For a stroll down video game memory lane, go here.

Behold the Odyssey!

On the drive home, The Boy was asking when we can go back to play again...

But no matter their age, they still all love ice cream. Enjoy some photos of our favorite turkeys eating ice cream with their cousins at Friday night's dinner out.

Gobble, gobble....

The moment has arrived.

I just heard The Boy say, "Dad, can we watch football?"

And there's some discussion of which team has won the most games, have they won more than the Huskies, and could this college team beat our poor Seahawks.

Although right now I hear him doing some annoying play with his old Sesame Street cash register, pushing the keys over and over so it says, "seven, sev, sev, seven, sssssss, seven, sev, sev, seven."

I figured with such a sports fan for a father, he would eventually take an interest. He's always loved to throw balls, and "buh-ball" for basketball was his first big word. Last spring it was baseball, and he watched a little more of a few Mariners games than before. Then during soccer season, he was always asking to go outside and kick the ball, but not so much for watching soccer on tv.

But one day I called while I was out, and they were poring over the stats page in the newspaper, and according to The Boy, "figuring out who were the worst players on the Seahawks." He's been playing football at recess with his friends, and has spent a few evenings outside throwing the ball with Daddy.

But this is what I've been dreaming about... That one day, they might say, "Mom, shhhh and leave us alone. We're watching football."

And then I'll have three hours to myself.

Now to work on Bitty Girl's love of football. Maybe a purple and pink football in her stocking??

Just call me Dr. Mama

Evidently my personal Thanksgiving prescription worked, and I didn't even have that much wine! The kids were fabulous - mostly - and I really didn't get stressed or worried.

No bleeding, no barfing (so far, keep your fingers crossed, because they did eat a lot), and nothing broken.

My sister-in-law called us at 7:30 am and invited us over early for breakfast. We had planned to get there around noon, but went about 10:30 am instead. It turned out to be perfect, because the kids got to play with cousins and settled down before most of the people arrived.

Besides getting slightly over-hungry before lunch and dinner, things went smoothly, kids played beautifully, the weather cooperated, food was delicious, and it was great to catch up with family.

There were -- gasp-- actually long stretches of time, like 20-30 minutes, where I wasn't directly supervising EITHER child. Or anyone else's child, for that matter. It has been a long time since I could say that about any family gathering.

They played inside, outside, watched a movie and shared an enormous bowl of popcorn,

which was gone in 10 minutes flat.

The Boy learned how to play Monopoly, and actually sat, completely focused on it, for an hour. With his dad. Without me. Do you even understand how exciting that "without me" part was to type? Because not only was I off the supervision hook for one kid, but I didn't have to deal with his creative interpretation of Monopoly rules.

So far, one happy, successful Thanksgiving - check.

Two more big family dinners to go....

Oh, and I figured out where The Boy gets his "silly face in pictures" gene..

like father.....

like son.

Keeping our eyes on the prize

I am trying to start the thankfulness early, and remember that's what tomorrow is about. We have a big family Thanksgiving, and at least I'm not cooking!

We are thankful...
for beautiful healthy babies
for enough food on our table
for family and friends
for healthy bodies
for our jobs
for beautiful sunny days in November
for having all that we need and more
for laughter

So my personal prescription for Turkey Day Weekend is more wine, less worry. If they're not bleeding or barfing, I'm going to try to ignore all child-related conflict, whining, arguing, and focus on what's important. Like filling up my wine glass. And writing down all the funny stories for future blog posts.

Big Three-O

Bitty Girl, you are 2 1/2 today. Thirty months old.

Thinking (or reading, since who can remember that long ago?) back to your birthday seems like ages ago, but you are still doing all those things I listed. Just more of them.

More picnics with your dollies sleeping under blankets
More adamant and bossy and independent
More beautiful and spunky and funny and delightful
More entertaining, as you try to tell jokes and then say, "I just teasing!"
More shrieking and screeching at your brother's transgressions, real or imagined
More of a need to be the center of attention
More interested in Mommy holding you, Mommy putting you to bed
More delighted with potty talk, especially our reaction to it
More silly at the dinner table
More dramatic play, telling stories about monsters and school and your family


You drop the beginning "s" off words starting with "sp" or "st" just like your cousin: (s)Pider, (s)tar, and your favorite.... (s)pit
You say "franwich" for sandwich, and "Auntie Caff-erine" for Catherine
Pink and purple are somehow your favorite colors, and you remind us of this daily. Many times.
If you don't like the clothes I choose, you say, "I don't match!"
You might have more of a sweet tooth than your brother and me - oops!
You repeat everything we say, including your brother's less-than-appropriate items
You are very independent, like to try to get yourself dressed and undressed, gave up the highchair long ago, and barely tolerate the stroller
But you go along with our craziness, don't mind being woken up from your nap to pick up your brother at school, or missing a nap on a busy day.

Our favorite funnies this week include:

You want a piece of me?

I freezing cold

Wrap me around (wrap a blanket around me)

Hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me (when you want to be picked up)

Happy Half Birthday, Bitty Girl! We love you!

And the Boss goes on....

Tonight at bedtime, after stories and brushing teeth

"I want a song."
"How do you ask for a song with polite words?"
"Song, please, Mommy." (complete with smirky smile and head tilt for emphasis)
"Which song should we sing? The Boat song?"
"Yes."
I start singing, only to be interrupted...
"No, Mommy, don't sing. I SING!"

Hmmmmmph.

Skater Boy

The Boy's school has a roller skating party practically every month. Yes, I know you're jealous, wishing you, too, could spend two hours on a Monday evening sitting on the same red carpeted mushroom benches that have been there since "Grease" was a new hit movie, watching shaggy-haired sweaty 12-year old boys try to do skateboarding tricks on their inline skates.

Green with envy - I see you.

But the Boy, who begged for rollerblades last year and dutifully practiced, can really skate by himself. He hardly falls, and he gets right back up.

And they play YMCA, Journey, Queen, and tonight - Corey Hart songs. (Mom, remember taking me to the concert in 8th grade? Thanks again)
So basically, I love it, except for the newer music, which scares me. Also, the big kids scare me. I seriously have to avert my eyes so that I don't imagine The Boy's face under one of those shaggy greasy hairdos, with those saggy pants and "I wish I was a real tough guy" look. Don't even get me started on the 3rd grade girls with the tight jeans and inappropriate t-shirts.

I wish I had pictures, but I would definitely be "that mom who embarrasses her kid" if I took any photos. Who am I kidding, I'm going to be her anyway. Next month - PHOTOS!

Part II of Skater Boy will deal with the slight heartbreak I experience watching him try to navigate sliding onto the bench from a full skate, to keep up with a faster 1st grade friend, and being disappointed that most of his friends weren't there tonight because they had basketball practice. The basketball team that we decided NOT to have him join.

Intergenerational Bossy

Bitty Girl entertaining one of her biggest fans, Great-Grandma "NuNu."

We spent the weekend at Nanny and Papa's house, where evidently it was the Bossy Girl Show. She comes from a loooooong line of bossy.

The Boy was outside playing most of today, far away from the camera.

She ran Nanny, NuNu, and Auntie Catherine through the ranks of many thrilling games. Highlights included:

1. Very Bossy Daycare, where we strongly suggest you take a nap - look how fun it is!

Serious naptime discussions were had by all.

2. Very Bossy Edible Video game, where you better eat what she gives you, and maybe hand over your jewelry too,

3. Very Bossy Cookie Decorating--watch out for the pre-licked ones,

I wouldn't recommend the one in the lower left of the photo...

and
4. Very Bossy Movie watching, where you hand over your computer to indulge the Queen because her brother is upstairs watching something she doesn't like.

Considering that she comes from a mother who insisted on being in charge of her sister's birthday parties and a great-grandmother famous for her declaration of "I MUST TAKE CHARGE!" is anyone really that surprised??