Discussions I never thought I'd have

Bug has a birthmark on the right side of his nose, kind of between his eye and the bridge.  As a baby it was puffy and very dark red; it couldn't be missed.  It started to show up about a week after he was born.  At first we thought it was simply a scratch he had gotten from his fingernails being too long.  Then it didn't go away and Hubby said he thought it looked like it might be a birthmark.  Gradually it grew bigger to become about the size of a penny.  The doctor said it would eventually fade and go away, which it has.  People still comment on it but they don't have quite the same reaction to it as they did when he was younger.

When Monkey was around 3, he acquired a beauty mark on the right side of his nose.  It is in the exact same spot as Bug's birthmark.  The first time I saw it I mentioned it and said something along the lines of, hey, you have a beauty mark in the same spot as Bug's birthmark!  He asked what a birthmark was and thought it was awesome that he and his brother were "twins".

Fast forward a few years.

The other day in the car Sunshine mentions that it looks like Bug has a new freckle.  Bug doesn't have freckles and the spot she saw it was on the underside of his arm, not the spot where you would suddenly start to acquire freckles.  I told her it probably wasn't a freckle but a beauty mark, and then this happened:

Monkey: I have a beauty mark just where Bug has one.  We're twins.
Sunshine:  Why does everyone say that Monkey and Bug look the same?
(Before I can answer)
Monkey:  It's because we have blonde hair and we both have birthmarks on our noses in the same spot.  (how convenient that his beauty mark turned into a birthmark)
Sunshine:  That's not fair!  Why do they both get one and I don't?!
Me:  Really?  Are you really getting upset about this?
Sunshine:  What?  Why do they look alike and I don't?  It's not fair!
Me:  I believe you do have a birthmark, don't you.  In fact, don't you have two birthmarks?
Sunshine:  Yes, but it's not the same.
Monkey:  I want a birthmark too!
Sunshine:  You already have a birthmark!
Monkey:  No, it's a beauty mark!  I want a birthmark!  Why don't I have a birthmark too?!
Me:  (Not believing that we are having a discussion much less an argument about this)  Both of you be quiet and stop arguing.  Let's play who's the quietest!
Sunshine:  Yeah!
Monkey:  NO!  I hate who's the quietest.  You know I'm not good at it.  Let's play who's the loudest!
Sunshine: Quietest!
Monkey:  Loudest!!
Me:  I will turn this car around and we will go back home if you 2 don't stop arguing!

These are the arguments that no one tells you will happen.  People may tell you they argue about ridiculous things, but you don't really know until you are in the midst of it.  Driving.  For 20 minutes.  By yourself.

Vicky

Aaawww.... young love

Sunshine has been best friends with this boy J, she has been playing with him since November.  She talked about him and his twin brother S during Thanksgiving and Christmas break.  They were invited to her birthday party and she to theirs.  The 3 of them play on the playground all the time, although it is mostly Sunshine and J who play together and S tags along.  Apparently chasing, poking, yanking and giggling is great fun.

A few weeks ago, they invited Sunshine to one of those bouncy places that happened to have one of those fight ring things where you can knock the other with one of those padded gladiator jousting sticks, which is just awesome.  And by awesome I mean stupid and a black eye waiting to happen.  So there they were, at this bouncy area, and Sunshine decides she wants to try these gladiator jousting sticks.  It's funny, she doesn't like to rough house at home, but with J, she is all about it.  Well apparently she was in this ring area and a not very nice boy "the-boy-with-the-red-shirt" kept taking her stick from her.  J and his twin brother S, continued to get in front of their friend and keep her safe and allow her to play with these jousting sticks.  The act made the mom of 4 boys proud and this mom feel better about having her daughter hang out with the 2 boys who were willing to protect her.

Two weeks later, Sunshine wanted to invite the boys somewhere for a playdate so we decided a different jumpy place.  This one didn't have the crazy jousting area and I knew it would be good for both Sunshine and Bug since Bug and Monkey would be joining us.  Well, Sunshine decides that this is not a playdate, it's just a date and she and J would be kissing in the bouncy house.  Uuhhh, excuse me?  She blushes a color I have never seen on her before and giggles.  "What did you say?"  In this high pitched, squeaky voice, she says, "We're going to kiss in the bouncy house." (hehehe-giggle giggle giggle).

We had a discussion about this and I'm sure she didn't listen since "all the other girls in school have been kissed" (when I asked who, she was able to name one girl and the one boy who kissed her on the cheek - whew).

Later in a different discussion she says that J is her best friend and yes she loves him.  She announces she is going to marry him.  She also said she wondered if J was allergic to cats or dogs because they don't have a dog or cat.  The names of their kids will be Liam and Rosie.

I asked her when she was planning on getting married and she said "not until I'm a grown up.  Like when I'm 16."  Haha, maybe a few years later.  She has written in her journal, "I love J", "Sunshine and J" with a picture of 2 people holding hands with giant eyes staring at each other with a heart between them, and "I have a boyfriend, his name is J."

I suppose I'd better start working on their wedding present!

Vicky

Washing up

I found this in my drafts of posts to be finished.  I'm not sure what else there was to it, but it is Monkey true and true.  I love that this is really how he spoke.  His speech has gotten so much better, he has dropped what some may call baby talk, he's 4 1/2 at the time, about 6 months shy of officially ending speech.  It's like watching videos of your babies and hearing their little voices.

Written on 6/5/12

I was kissing Monkey's hand and flipped it over to kiss the palm of it and sniffed.  It smelled kind of... icky.  Kind of... I don't know, just, icky.  So I told him,

Me:  "Your hands smell kind of stinky.  You need to go wash them."

Monkey:  Takes a deep sniff of his hand, "Dey, don't mell dinky to me."

Me:  "Maybe you should go wash them."

Monkey:  In a very calm voice, "Nooo, dat's ok.  Dey don't need to be washed."

Vicky

Riesen

I may not mention her a lot, there's not much to mention, she's a cat, but Riesen is MY cat.  She was given to me as a gift when I was 17.  She sleeps with me every night.  If for some reason I go to bed after Hubby does and she has gone to bed with him, she will get up and move to sleep on me.  I think she's crazy, I've sent her flying on more than one occasion with my sleep habits and out of controls dreams.  But back into bed she crawls.

Every night she likes to come down after the kids are in bed.  She waits.  When the doors are closed and we're reading books, she sneaks downstairs and is waiting for us.  She'll sit on our lap, on the couch, sometimes just sitting in the middle of the family room floor.  She just likes to be with us and the time she lost hiding during the day, she makes up at night.

Did I mention I got her when I was 17?  This means she's 16.  Yes, that's how old I am.  Now I'm not a vet or anything but I'm also not stupid and I know how old cats live to be (I am capable of Googling things).  She is so little, only 6 pounds, if she were to get sick she doesn't have any meat on her bones to keep her going.  I worry about how I will handle telling the kids that their cat, no my cat, is gone.  Of course, if I think about it too much I get all teary eyed and start to cry.

So this post is simply about how much I love my cat.  That's all.  She's not a playful cat, she hides from just about everyone and slinks around the house so much that when she stands up and walks like a normal cat, she seems to have grown 3".  If you want to find her it's almost a guarantee that you will find her in my bedroom either sleeping on the bed, on the floor under the bed, or in the closet.  But she's my cat.  She's beautiful and as I type this she is sleeping on the couch behind me.  Purring.

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I originally wrote this on 9/16, I didn't post it because I didn't figure anyone really would want to read it.  I wrote it for myself and  have since realized that I want everyone to read it.  Besides which, it's my blog and I can write about whatever I want!

Two weeks ago things changed with Riesen.  We noticed she looked thinner and she seemed to be slinking around lower than usual.  I weighed her and she weighed a whopping 5 lbs 1 oz.  I haven't taken her to the vet in forever and was concerned about bringing her.  She is so scared I didn't want to stress her out even more.  She was still eating, just not keeping the weight on.

The vet told us to give her wet food, either for seniors or for kittens since they both have a higher fat content and to give her plenty of treats.

Off to the pet store I went to buy a variety of canned cat food and more treats.  The treats she had has a lower fat content than others and we were looking to fatten her up.  With food and treats in hand we went home to give her this new (disgusting smelling) cuisine.  Well she did not want to eat it mixed with her dry but she ate it plain but then she wasn't.

She slowly stopped eating as much of her food and wasn't touching the dry food at all.  Can after can we'd open and she would only lick at the gravy.  We took her to the vet in hope that she had only a tooth abscess, they would yank the tooth and she would be fine.  Deep inside I knew this wasn't the case, but the glimmer of hope was still there.

The extremely mean vet told me that she was in the final stage of renal failure and was anemic and if I had brought her in sooner she may have been ok.  He said she was in pain, dehydrated, and did I want to put her down right then and there?  At this point I was sobbing, I told him no, asked him to give her some fluids, and said I would bring her home for now.

When I picked the kids up after the visit, Sunshine figured it out immediately.  She asked if the vet told us that Riesen had to die.  How do you respond to that?  I couldn't lie but it broke my heart to tell her yes.  We both cried as I told her she was very old, very sick and it was almost her time to die.

I brought her home and we kept her with us for the weekend.  She stopped eating altogether, and was only drinking water when it was coming from the faucet.  She slept in her bed in our closet and uncharacteristically let the kids hold her.  We took picture after picture of her and every night we made sure we said good night to her and every morning we said good morning.  We made sure we reminded the kids that she was sick and it was important to remember her good morning and good nights.

Hubby and I had decided that Monday would be the day.  If God didn't take her sooner, we were going to help and make her pain go away.  At night she came down as always and laid on my lap.  She didn't perch on my lap, but laid down and rested her weight on me.  Laying her head on my hand or arm, she only moved to switch positions.

We had decided Monday since the kids would be in school.  We would take her then and tell her she passed during the day.  I had already told them that she died while they were gone that I was going to bring her to the vet.  Sunday night Hubby and I told them to say good-bye to her, we said we weren't sure she would make it through the night.

The kids saying good-bye was awful.  Sunshine didn't want to leave the closet where Riesen had been sleeping most of the day.  She laid there while Sunshine gently stroked her telling her how much she loved her and what a wonderful cat she was.  She told me she never wanted another cat, she just wanted to keep Riesen.

While we were putting the kids to bed, Riesen went downstairs to wait for Hubby and me, just like always.  She sat in the family room, watching us.  As I had every night, I fed her.  I gave her a fresh can of cat food that she no longer even sniffed at and let the faucet run while she drank more water.  Then I picked her up and we sat and watched TV.  We sat and watched TV for 3 hours, long after I would normally stay up watching but she stayed there on my lap the whole time, letting me pet her, while I thought about 17 years of love and how she now had less than half a day left.  At midnight she finally got up when the couch was bumped into.

Hubby, Riesen and I went up to bed and, again, she sat and watched and waited.  I brought her into bed because she was having a hard time making the big jump, and she slept with us for one last night.  She slept perched on me and by my stomach, something she hasn't done in years, she stayed with me all night long.  When she would normally have jumped down in the morning, she was still there, sleeping by my feet.  I wanted to stay in bed and never move, I didn't want the day to begin, I wanted to feel the weight of her against or on me for as long as possible.

The kids of course saw her and were extremely happy that their good-bye wasn't really a good-bye.  I made sure Sunshine gave her extra hugs and kisses though.  At this point I think she didn't believe me.  I think she really thought that she would still be there when she came home and the next morning when she woke up.

The worst part of making the decision to put your animal to sleep is deciding when.  When do you go to the vet?  8:30?  9:00?  9:30?  Which time is the right time?  Then when you get there, when do you say now is the time?  After 5 minutes of holding and cuddling?  10 minutes?  There will never be enough time because you want the time to last forever.  You never want to say good-bye, you never want to let your pet go.  That selfish part of me was saying that maybe she wasn't so bad because, look! she's wandering around sniffing at things!  Never mind that she hasn't eaten or pooped in a week or that her eyes are no longer bright and shiny.  I was scared to weigh her because I didn't want to know what the scale would read, why bother?

She was dying and it was going to happen, it was merely a matter of when.  The next day?  In 3 days?  How long can a 5 lb cat go without eating?  Probably not very long.  I knew she had to be hurting, how could she not?  Starving, dehydrated, and in pain is not a life or a death I would want to endure, how could I expect this of her.

We saw a different vet at the office, (complained about the first, this vet apologized and apparently that vet is known to be a jackass, but is the owner of the clinic), and we waited.  They let us in the side door.  The door that no one wants to go in and let us go into the room that no one else wants to visit.  They let us sit in there as long as we wanted before anyone did anything and let us get ready.  We cried and said our good-bye and held her, cuddled her, kissed her.  When she wanted to look around, we let her down to wander the room for a minute, I couldn't get the thought out of my head that these are her last minutes as well, even if she doesn't know it.  We cried and when they came in to put in the catheter, we cried even more.

The absolute worse feeling in the world is looking at your animal and knowing that they trust you, thinking that you are going to take care of them and you knowing what is about to happen.  I sat there with my cat as the anesthesia almost immediately took effect.  She laid on my hand and, as they described, pretty much "went to sleep".  But it wasn't sleep, and it wasn't how she ever fell asleep, and I couldn't change my mind.  I wanted to scream NO, I'VE CHANGED MY MIND!  Please, please don't do this.  I cried and apologized to her.  I apologized for not taking better care of her, I apologized for betraying her trust when she needed it most, I apologized for ending her life.  I questioned God and my beliefs.  I questioned what was going to happen.  I didn't care that she was 17 and sick, she wasn't supposed to die this way.  This wasn't humane!  I betrayed her!

We stayed long after, petting her and taking in every hair and spot on her.  When she died she rested her body on my whole hand.  I kept my hand there, remembering the weight of her and pretending the warmth that I was feeling was real.  I knew once I removed my hand, I couldn't put it back under, lifting her body up was not an option for me.  I didn't want to feel her limp like that.  We cried some more but neither of us wanted to leave.  To leave meant leaving for good.  Leaving her and never seeing her again.  Before we left, we wrapped her in the blanket they had her on, gave her one last kiss, and left our Riesen forever.

The kids handled it fairly well.  I think Sunshine was surprised since she was still there this morning after I said she might not make it the night before.  She kept saying she wished she could have just one more good-bye and to pet her just one more time.  I kept telling both of us that "just one more" is never enough and we would always be asking for "just one more".  I told her she had that one more good-bye that morning but I know it wasn't enough.  Because, one more will never be enough.

Riesen: April 1996 - March 18, 2013

Vicky

Teasing

There are few things that bring out the mama bear in me, teasing is one of them.  A little kid teasing my kid is just too much.  Monkey hasn't had to deal with it yet, he's only in preschool, kids don't tease and if they do he hasn't been the brunt of it.  Everyone's friend and oblivious to most things around him, Monkey wouldn't be bothered by a few teasing comments and the kid teasing would leave him alone.

Not true with Sunshine.

Sunshine is just that.  A ray of Sunshine that is sweet and innocent.  Now I'm not saying my child doesn't get in trouble or doesn't do her fair share of fighting with her brother, but suggest that she may have hurt someone's feelings and she will break down in tears.  Things are not supposed to be yanked from people and manners remembered.  In return, she expects the same courtesy and respect-don't we all?

So when a peer is not nice it doesn't make sense.  Why would someone do this?  Why was this random boy at the bouncy area taking this toy?  Even worse though is when a friend, or someone she thought was a friend, isn't nice.  Her heart breaks a little bit more with each comment.  Sweet, confused, easily upset, and innocent, she makes an easy target.

Like everything, there is a hierarchy and sadly, in first grade the mean kids are on top.  Fear of being told they won't be allowed to play on something or with something will keep these targets playing with the mean kids, only encouraging their behavior.  Comments beginning as, "You have to do this if you want to be my friend." escalate to "I thought you were my friend." to complete teasing and making fun of the child that questioned them.  After all, questioning can lead to one thing and one thing only, complete revolution and walking away with all the other kids that are still willing to follow in their shadow.

Unfortunately, Sunshine's been being teased.  It started in November with a boy.  I'll call him N.  In November she and N had been playing with about 6 other kids.  He would make random comments that began with her glasses.  Still believing they were friends, she didn't mention it for quite a while and when she did she was in tears and all sorts of comments came spilling out.

Along came her birthday and N had not been mentioned except in passing.  They played together as a group and she told us about the obnoxious stories (absolute lies) that he claimed were true.  Not understanding why a friend would lie to her when she questioned him, she was willing to believe him.

Unfortunately, the small jabs had continued and I had not known about them.

Recently the comments have been about her lunches.  This makes no sense to me except that being different and not standing up for yourself makes you easy prey for children with low self-esteem and N , T, ( T is in the "I thought you were my friend" stage) and S, have decided to make fun of her healthy lunches.  Tomatoes, dried bananas, and other vegetables, are disgusting and why would she eat them?  She tells them they're good and they should ask their mom to buy them.  It's unfortunate the school doesn't allow sharing, although I doubt they would admit they liked the bananas.  Now she doesn't want to pack those snacks because she is worried about upset about what they will say.  When asked what they bring for lunch, cookies, popcorn, and candy are always on the list.  They also tease about what she watches on TV.  Also extremely unfortunate since I know what shows they are watching and I'd rather not have my daughter watching them.  Her 2 younger brothers are in the same room and they don't need to be exposed to them either.

So I tell her she needs to ignore them and tell a teacher, be it her teacher or the teacher in the lunchroom or playground, as well as ignore them.  Yesterday she comes home, proud of herself for the first time in a while and announces that she ignored N.  He tried to tell her another of his tall tales and apparently she just ignored him.  When he attempted to get her attention, she gave him the cold shoulder.  I hope she remembers to also tell a teacher, she can still hear those comments and I don't want her to develop a low self-esteem, but for now she is standing up for herself and that is something she will need to be able to do for the rest of her life.

I still don't like the kid and wish he moved - just like her told Sunshine he was doing.  I have a feeling the story of N and S moving in together to the city is just another story though.

Vicky

Turning 5!

Another week, another birthday.

My little Monkey man turned 5.  Five.  One whole hand.  Five.  No longer a preschooler.  Five.  The age you need to be to start kindergarten.  Five is the age when people seem to expect them to no longer throw tantrums, they need to know how to behave in restaurants, sit quietly when told, and understand what lying is.  Five is none of those though as five is merely one day older than 4 and 364 days old.  He is still my preschooler who has ants in his pants.  He tries to sit still when we're out but who wants to wait for 15 minutes for their food and then wait another 15 minutes for everyone else to finish eating?  He still is trying to figure out right from wrong but there are plenty of adults who sometimes forget.

He is still so little, he loves wearing his pajamas and wants to have his special toys with him at bed.  He will sit and cuddle with you and genuinely means it when he tells you he loves you.  His emotions are still black and white with no shades of gray, "You are my friend and I love you", "You are not nice to me, I don't want to be friends".  I don't know too many people who don't like Monkey.  How can you resist liking a little boy that comes up to you, gives you a great big hug, looks you right in the eyes and tells you he loves you.

He has facial expressions that you can't help but laugh at, even the ones he has for when he's angry.  He can tell elaborate, detailed stories using voices for the different people.  He is so smart, if you don't understand him, he has the capability to explain what he means, even for words that are abstract, and he's able to do so without getting upset.  The time that sticks out was when he kept saying he "Had a fan." A what?  Back and forth we went, a man, a fan, a pan.  Was it big or little?  He laughed and said no.  Can you describe it?  He emphasized the 'f' sound trying to get it out properly and when I asked him to use a different word he said, "It's yike a idea."  Oh, a plan.  Throughout the whole thing, he never got frustrated, yelled, or got discouraged and said never mind.

He is a wonderful little boy that I love to pieces.  Happy birthday Monkey.

Vicky

My Baby

Sunshine is 7.  She and I have a unique relationship.  Not that we do fun mother-daughter things or exclude the boys in anything.  Our relationship is deeper than that and one that she will never realize until she has children of her own.  Sunshine is the one who made me a mom.  She is the one who had all of the firsts.  I found out I was pregnant and had my first ultrasounds with her.  It was her kicks I felt for the first time and her hiccups I felt in the middle of the night.  She was the one that I labored first with and had the doctor announce the sex of the baby.  I pushed and out she came, a screaming, slippery little thing, weighing in at 7lbs 7oz and 19" - I was a mom.  In less than a blink of the eye, I was a mom, somehow there wasn't a baby and then there was and I was a mom.  I had cried and laughed and held her in disbelief.  I had created this.  This was my husband's and my creation.  We were the sole caretakers of her, the ones responsible for her, the ones to protect and shelter her.  We would be the ones to take temperatures, kiss ouchies, change diapers, look for monsters under the bed.  Just like that, I was a mom and she was my daughter and she and I would forever have this unique bond.

Now she's 7.  No longer a baby to others but always a baby to me.  I will always want to protect her and take away all of her pain.  She is seven.  She is growing.  Every day she is growing but for now she is still a little girl.  She still loves her horses and playing pretend.  She still lets me pick out her clothes.  She still gets upset about small things, because she's seven, and she's supposed to get upset and sad about things.  One of her best friends is still her dog.

Happy birthday to my little girl.

Vicky

I said NO!

Bug is 2, this means he likes being helpful.  He likes to unload the dishwasher, switch the laundry around and generally help do things in twice the amount of time that it would take you but you let them help because it's building character (and it's easier to have him throw something away than getting up off your own butt to do it yourself).  This is generally how it happens.  Until it generally doesn't and then you're stuck with a typical terrible two year old.  One that goes from sweet and loving to crazed, pea soup spewing, beast.  There is a reason why people say terrible two's, and this is the reason:

The other day my mom, Bug and I were sitting around the kitchen table.  We had finished the milk container and I said to Bug (thinking he was the sweet, helpful angel) "Could you throw this away for Mommy?"  He shook his head No.  This wasn't the cute no that we sometimes (for some strange reason) encourage our children to do, this was a definite no-I-don't-want-to-and-you-can't-make-me no.  So I said again, thinking he surely couldn't have meant it, he shakes his head again, says no, and flings the empty milk container onto the floor.  "Bug, pick up the container and put it in the garbage."  I wasn't asking nice anymore and it was no longer a question, this was a definite, you need to do this.  Again, head shake.  I pick up the milk container and before I can say anything, he grabs it and throws it across the table.  I decide to do what some baby experts would say (stupid baby experts, what do they know?) and I tell him, "Let's go do this together!"  Because when you say it all happy like, it makes chores fun!  I grab the container, grab him, and in my attempt to bring him and the milk container across the floor, he screams, brings his hands in so close to him they're in his armpits, and does the limp cat trick.  So I drag him and hold the milk container next to his body, I'm winning, right?  He continues to scream, honest, I was just trying to get him to walk across the floor, a mere 6 baby steps.  When we get to the garbage (so much for putting it in the recycle bin) I attempt to put the container in the garbage bag, he screams, takes the container OUT of the garbage and throws it across the floor.  I take the container, place it BACK into the garbage bag and tie it closed.  I must add, there was pretty much nothing in the bag, only the milk container and some nasty tissues.  He takes the garbage bag with the milk container and runs into the family room where he then proceeds to throw it behind the television.  I then take the bag (with the milk container) and put it in the laundry room where the big garbage can is.  He stands outside of the laundry room, crying and pounding on the door until he finally decides that standing is too difficult and lays on the floor to continue crying.

He's not stubborn is he?  I can't wait until I tell him he needs to take the garbage out to the curb!

Vicky

Nonuts and ice cream, can it get any better?

Bug's favorite things in the world?  Ice cream and doughnuts.  Only he doesn't say doughnuts, he says nonuts and he says it in a deep voice and gets all goofy.  If you want to bribe him, you're best doing it with a trip to Dunkin' Donuts.  He likes the chocolate glazed doughnuts best and it needs to be cut up and eaten with a fork.  If it's not cut up, he won't eat it.  He will call and call and call begging you to come cut up his doughnut and to get a fork as he is not able to get into the silverware drawer.


The funny part?  He doesn't always eat all of either one.  So often I will see him leave the table with 1/2 of the doughnut or ice cream left.  If the ice cream is in a cone, he usually doesn't get to the cone part.  But still, he claims they're his favorite thing.


However, if you put a plate of cucumbers, cauliflower, broccoli, and well, basically any vegetable, he'll eat the whole plate and ask for more.


The other day I was talking to my mom on the phone.  I was in the kitchen and Monkey was in the family room.  My Mom said she saw a doughnut maker.  I casually and quietly "A doughnut maker?"  She said she wasn't planning on buying it buy thought of Monkey when she saw it.  Well Monkey, who doesn't listen to you when you're sitting next to you, is around the corner in the other room and he comes trotting in, "A NONUT MAKER???!!!  I want a doughnut maker!  I yuuuuv nonuts"  And here we thought he might be having problems with his hearing.

Can life get any better than ice cream and nonuts?  I think not!

Haha!  As I sit here finishing typing, he comes along and stands over my shoulder saying, "Ice cream!  Nonuts!  Can we get some Mommy!"

Vicky

Puddle jumping

Blah, it's a rainy, gray day.  Blah.  Not too cold, but a nice day for cuddling up with some hot chocolate or hot cider and a book (cuddling with the computer isn't very appropriate).  It's also a school day which means walking Sunshine to the bus stop.  I suppose I could put the kids in the car but the car isn't in the garage right now so I'd still be standing in the rain to buckle the kids in.  Besides, I purposely bought Monkey and Sunshine rain boots and umbrellas just for this occasion.  Monkey was also lucky enough to have scored an awesome rain coat that goes all the way down to his knees.  I made sure they were dressed properly, wrapped Bug in my Moby, grabbed umbrellas and left for the bus stop.


We had got to the first puddle and they were both stomping around in it.  I was able to drag Sunshine away but as I walked away, Monkey started to cry.  What's wrong?!  I checked his shoes, his shoes have been known to come off when he walks (I don't know how).  They were still firmly on his feet.  I checked his rain coat, snapped firmly all the way down (you CAN NOT walk outside without having his coat closed).  So why the tears?


"Bug, what's wrong?"


"Der's more puddles!"


How on earth can you say "no" to a little boy who wants to jump in puddles?  I promised we would jump in puddles on the way home.

And jump in puddles we did!

Sunshine also wanted to puddle jump on the way home.

Vicky

One pedal at a time

A week and a half ago the little girl two doors down learned to ride her bike.  It was so much fun, Sunshine and I were outside and I was helping her and as we watched, she started pedaling a little further each time.  Next thing we knew, she was riding her bike.


It wasn't a surprise then when Sunshine asked to have her training wheels taken off of her bike 2 days later.  She had them off during the summer but was either not ready or just frustrated.  When she cried that she wanted them back on I said fine, riding your bike isn't something that needs or should be an argument.  Well we took them off and this time I said this is it, I'm not going to keep taking them off and on.  I stood outside with her and tried to help her with the basics, pushing off, pedaling and not going super slow, look up, etc.  She was very frustrated and I was apparently at fault.  I left her alone with her bike and came back out every so often.  The progress was definitely slow but she was determined.


The next day, back outside she went.  Practice, practice, practice.  I went out again and was helping her.  The 2 little girls 2 doors down were also helping her.  Nothing is as sweet as an 8 and 6 year old trying to help a 5 year old ride a bike.  Patience and positive peer pressure are always on their side.  She was getting about 3 or 4 full pedals and then nothing.


The next day I promised her I would bring her bike with me when I went to the bus stop.  In the 3 houses from the stop to our house she figured it out.  All of a sudden everything just fell into line; she sat up straight, looked up, gave a big push and strong pedal and got that other foot up in time.  I saw her from behind and how she straightened her back.  It was so exciting, I was so proud and she was as well.  It's one of those moments that I'm happy I was able to witness.

Vicky

Self-control

Me: Monkey, Sunshine was playing with that.
Monkey: I want it! (he is only 3)
Me: Leave her alone and wait your turn.
Monkey: Humph (followed by a foot stomp and his angry face)
Me: Don't stomp your foot at me.
Monkey: Sunshine hit me and I domp my feet and day humph. (S's are not an easy sound for him)
I suppose it's good that he didn't haul back and hit her and only stomped his foot.  Of course Sunshine didn't hit him.

It's not easy to fake an "angry face" but this is pretty close to it.

Vicky

Growing up

Bug is turning one.  Well he's turning one in 3 days.  How did this happen???  He is supposed to be my baby and stay my baby!  I now know why the youngest child is babied for so long, their parents can't handle the concept of their baby growing up, of letting go of different stages of their baby's life.


He's going to be one.


He has teeth, he crawls and pulls himself up.  He is so proud of himself and smiles at every new accomplishment.  He can sign "more" and "all done" and has said "papa", "mama", "up", and "key" for kitty.  He has opinions and they don't always coincide with what should be happening.  It's ok though because his temper tantrums involve him making this face that is quite funny and possibly crying although he usually ends up laughing during it.  Of course when you tell him no, he looks at you, flashes a dimple, and goes about doing his business, completely ignoring you.  His smile lights up the room and makes everyone he looks at feel as though they are the best, most exciting person in the whole world.


It's hard to imagine that at this time I was counting the days to my due date.  At this time I had 10 more days, my feet were so swollen my socks left huge marks in them, and I was so huge that the ability to see those feet had long passed.  Sitting on the toilet was uncomfortable and getting up was even harder.  Geez, no wonder people questioned me if I was having twins.  Yet, I tried to remember and cherish every kick and roll that he did, knowing that the end was coming.  I'd rub my swollen, hard belly and think about soon the baby would be entering this world and there wouldn't be my little bug poking at my kidneys and bladder.  Soon that rock hard belly would forever be empty and I'd be left with squishiness.  *sigh*


I can't believe he's going to be 1.  It won't be long that I change that number again and again and again.  For now though, I'll hang onto this stage and keep him my baby as long as possible.

Did I mention I was HUGE!

This was October 21, 2010.  Bug was born the next day, a week early.

Vicky

The rabbit died...

Last night my kids wanted to watch Star Trek.  Yes, my husband is making them Trekkies at a very young age.  We record it on our DVR and let them watch a random episode.  I'm always amazed at how kid-friendly the show is.  The characters may look strange, but they still are "people" looking, there is no killing, only stunning, and a ship will never explode, implode, or completely lose their air supply.  Anyways, they had been watching the show and left the TV on while we were eating dinner.  After dinner, Monkey goes into the family room to watch the end credits of the show and the next 2 minutes of whatever happens to come on next.  Unless it's on PBS, I usually turn a show off before they are able to watch the next 2 minutes and this is why...



I'd never seen or heard of the TV show "Hitch", but I will never forget one of their opening scenes.  Hubby was reaching behind the TV trying to fix something and Monkey was standing next to him.  The show starts with a cute little bunny standing on the side of the road.  Hippity-hop goes the bunny into the street.  Vroom goes the car.  Splat goes the bunny.  All you see is the tire of the car running over the rabbit.  It is so gross, you see the bunny flattened into a pancake with just some tufts of fur waving in the car's wake.



"What happened to the bunny?"  is Monkey's first question.


I attempt to be calm about this and to make him realize that it wasn't really a rabbit at all, even though it may look like it.  Explaining CGI to a 3 year old is not at all easy though.  "The bunny wasn't hurt.  It looked like it was didn't it?  That was just a pretend bunny that they use for movies."


Monkey, whose speech and word selection is still a little shaky, "Da car went..." Then he pushes his hand over the other like the car on the road.  "What happened to the bunny?  Is he dead?"


This continued for quite some time.  His little lip out and close to tears.  He came and sat on my lap and cuddled as we talked about how it wasn't a real rabbit, how they aren't allowed to hurt animals, and most things we see on TV are just pretend.  I don't think he understood or believed me.  It was so sad to see him so upset, yet Hubby and I couldn't help but smile at each other about it.  I know, it's mean, but it was funny.


I'm wondering how often he will talk about this and for how long.  He doesn't seem to hang onto things as long as Sunshine but then again he's never had a traumatic experience like this before.  ;)


Vicky

Don't poke the Mama Bear

Sunshine has been in kindergarten for 2 weeks now.  She left the first morning, stepping onto the big yellow bus with a grin and excitement for what could only be a wonderful experience.

She has been coming home telling me that she's had a good time at school.  She is meeting new friends, learning new things and having a great time.

Or so I thought.  She also wears glasses for reading, something that we have her use mostly at school.  When I first asked her if she wore them at school she said yes, she had made sure she took them off when she was supposed to, put them on when she was supposed to and had been very careful with them although a couple of the kids said she looked different with them on.  I completely believed this, she had been wonderful at preschool about it and never needed reminding.  When I say her kindergarten teacher at a parent curriculum night, I asked her (just to be sure) and she confirmed, yes Sunshine has been very responsible, she has been very impressed with how well she has been doing with them.  A few days later I asked again and she told me that she had forgotten to put them on.  Well Sunshine, make sure you put them on.  I asked her again a few days later and she says no she hasn't been wearing them.  I'm beginning to think I know why she isn't wearing them.


I gently ask, "Sunshine, why aren't you wearing your glasses?"



Sunshine: "None of the other kids have to wear them."


I know this isn't true, one of the kids at her bus stop has to wear glasses.  When I tell her this, she answers in her new favorite answer, "Sooo... I just don't want to wear them."
"Sunshine, why don't you want to wear glasses?"


Her eyes fill up with tears and she begins to cry.  "Because some of the kids said I looked silly with them on."


Now it may hurt my feelings when someone says something rude to me, but I've never felt this kind of hurt in my life.  My heart broke as I watched my baby cry about feeling less than perfect I know she is.  I was so angry and sad and I felt myself begin to cry for her as I told her that she was beautiful with and without her glasses.


She curled up on my lap and continued to cry.  After a few minutes, she then proceeded to tell me that some of the boys were chasing me even though she kept asking them to stop.  She couldn't figure out why they were being mean to her and she again broke down crying.
I emailed her teacher and told her what Sunshine had told me.


I happened to be going up to the school to sign her up for Daisies and her teacher was still there.  She said she hadn't seen anything and was surprised because Sunshine was always so happy, she would keep an eye on her, she would have another talk with the kids about treating others nicely, and what to do if someone isn't being nice.  In a week, we would see how things were going and if it wasn't getting better she said she would want to see both me and Sunshine.


I felt a lot better about how the situation was going to be handled once I talked with her.  I do not feel better about the obnoxious child that hurt my baby's feelings.


Vicky

Respect

I have been giving Bug baby cereal for the last month or so and have been pumping to mix the milk in with it.  I have plenty of milk, but it takes so much time and preplanning that often he doesn't get the cereal with his meal, just the baby food.  I decided to go ahead and buy a can of powdered formula so that I wasn't just adding plain water.  I also thought that it would be a good way for him to get any extra vitamins that he might not be getting from me.


So off to the grocery store I went with Sunshine in tow for special mommy and me time.  When we get to the baby aisle I'm looking at all of the different types of formula and all of the outrageous prices.  All I wanted was a small can of powdered formula, but not the individual serving size.  I continue searching, feeling utterly confused.  Milk-based?  I thought they weren't supposed to get dairy until they were a year old.  That can't be right, is it.  Sunshine looks at the ginormous can in my hand and asks, "What's that?"  I replied that it was baby formula.  "Baby formula?  What's baby formula?"  I was trying to figure out a way to explain it.  First I said you put it in their bottles, but then I stopped, I knew that wasn't what she was looking for. Then I said it was for them to drink and you mix water with it.  She looked slightly baffled by this.  Then I said that some mommies can't make milk so they use this instead.  Her eyes got huge and her mouth hung open a little bit and she exclaimed, quite loudly, "They can't?!"


I realized that I have 3 children and was buying my first container of formula.  We had been given formula in the past from the hospital and always gave it away to the local food pantry before it expired.  I nursed Sunshine for 17 months, Monkey for 18 and plan to continue with Bug for just as long.


I left the grocery store with a new respect for myself and my body.  I was proud of what I've been able to do for my children.  Then, later that night, when I saw myself in the mirror, I realized that my body is certainly not what it was 6 years ago, and I'm ok with that.

Vicky

Realization

So I've already had that gasp of Sunshine going to kindergarten, now I've realized what that really means.  She has afternoon kindergarten and we'll be taking classes in the morning.  Last night I was thinking that I should go to the zoo.  Then I realizeed; If I want to go to the zoo, I will have to go in the next 5 days or I can only go on days that she doesn't have school.  Bug will never be able to just go to the zoo on a whim.  Now I understand why the zoo is so packed on those days that school is typically not in session.  Since she has afternoon kindergarten, we can't go there in the afternoon as we've done in the past when she was in preschool.  I suppose I can take Monkey and Bug when she's in first grade but then only on days that Monkey isn't in preschool.  This only reminded me why I want 3 day preschool.  Keep them home and get to enjoy them as long as possible.  She's taking the bus but the bus stop is down the street and around the corner so I will have to walk her there which means either wrapping the other 2 up just to go outside for 10 minutes.  I am not going to like this at all.  When will our lives go back to how they were... Oh yeah, never.

Vicky

Almost time

The other day my sister asked me when Sunshine started kindergarten.  I casually said that I didn't know, towards the end of August and I'd make sure I looked before the first day.  Well I went ahead and looked and I couldn't believe it, school starts in 13 days.  Wait.  What?  13 days?  No, she starts school at some point, not in 13 days.  13 days is less than 2 full weeks!  I'm not ready for my baby to start school.  I watched her for a bit and remembered the day that she was born and how the announced she was a girl.  I know everyone says how quickly time goes by and to cherish your moments and you think that you do but somehow kindergarten still sneaks up on you when you're not watching.



I sat on the couch with her for a while and snuggled with my baby.  I made sure I had a moment with her right then and there.  I told her how much I loved her and that she was the best little girl in the world.  I didn't tell her that in 13 days our lives would be changed forever and we would no longer have the luxuries of no schedules and lazy mornings.  That it wouldn't just be "us" anymore.


I think we're in the last couple pages of this chapter.  On to the next one, not the same but still just as much fun.

Vicky

Taking the plunge

So my baby decided that today was the day that she could officially say she swam.  Sunshine has been in swim lessons since practically birth and has always done a dog style type of swim.  Never wanting to get water in her eyes, she's always kept her head well out of the water.  Today we gave her a mask to wear and she was off.  She swam the length of my parents' pool multiple times keep her head down and coming up long enough to take a breath and to continue.  I was quite impressed with that part.  She swallowed some water one of the first times and then that was it, I think I can officially say that she can "kind of swim".


Even better than me being proud, she came up out of water beaming with pride.  She had her aunt go get her dad so he could watch.  He came out and took some videos and we watched her swim back and forth across the pool some more.

Vicky

Lightening and thunder and rain, oh my!

At about 5:15 am I woke to a loud crash that shook the house quickly followed by poor Monkey screaming from his bedroom.  My poor little boy, terrified of storms, was also woken by the storm and was now petrified in his room.  Hubby, already downstairs and getting ready for work, was right behind me when I ran into his bedroom.  I found him hiding under his blanket and when I picked him up his whole body was shaking.  I asked if he would like to sleep in my bed and he squeaked out a small "yes".  Unlike Sunshine who crawls in bed with us quite frequently, Monkey has never attempted to sleep in our bed.


Hubby had brought his pillow and special dog into our bedroom and got him situated while I, eh -hem, visited the bathroom.  So there we were, snuggled in my bed.  Now there are all sorts of snuggling that you can do with your child.  Snuggling on the couch, where they lean against you.  Snuggling in bed with lots of space, each of you using your own pillow.  Then there's the snuggling we were doing; using half of my pillow, a quarter of my queen sized bed (with me about to fall off), and my arm wrapped around him.


I held him close until he slowly stopped shaking and finally seemed to relax.  Eventually he was only jumping from being startled by the thunder and no longer shaking.


We never did fall back asleep though.  At 6:30 we heard Bug start to fuss.  I had been concerned that he would wake up earlier and how would I handle leaving Monkey when he so obviously could not be left for 20 minutes while I nursed Bug.  Monkey must have calmed down enough that he said I need to go get baby Bug.


We decided that the 3 of us would go downstairs and hang out on the couch while I nursed and he could lay down.  I had hoped that he would fall asleep... 


It's a bonding time I suppose.

Vicky