Chill in the Air

I'd be lying if I said the chill in the air is a new thing.  It's not, really.  But, I don't mind the chill if the sun is shining.  And, today it shone.  It warms me right up. 

We had a crazy weekend.  Friday Mr. A had his final soccer game.  We all went and cheered him on.  In the past few weeks, I've been running in the jogger stroller over to his game w/Baby S and then run home with either him or Miss M in the stroller (there is a mighty large hill going TO the game, so I take the lightest traveler).  I had run to the game and it was Miss M's turn to ride home with me.  DH had pushed her to the top of a steep hill where the parking lot was and put the brake down.  I was getting Baby S in the car, DH was getting Mr. A in the car and the next thing I knew all I heard was Miss M screaming, "Mommy!  Mommy!  Moooooooommmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!"  The brake had come loose on the stroller and she was rolling down the very steep hill screaming and staring at me with a look of complete fear and terror on her face.  I started running as fast as I could.  I could hear DH's footsteps from behind me when we both had run down the first hill and got to the "flat" basketball court, but the stroller, while it slowed slightly, did not slow enough for either one of us to catch her before she hit the next hill and accelerated down toward the wall of the field.  DH did his best baseball slide to try to stop her before the stroller hit the wall.  To no avail.  I watched, as if in slow motion, as she hit the wall, and bounced out of the stroller and almost to a standing position on the ground crying her little eyes out.  DH got to her first.  "Are you ok?" "Does anything hurt?"  Screaming.  Only screaming. 

Several parents had watched it all and one came running down asking if we needed someone to call 911.  It looked that bad.  I could not believe it, but she was actually ok.  We were so extremely lucky and blessed and watched over.  I pushed the stroller back up the hill.  The push bar was completely cracked and disconnected from the stroller.  Bless that handlebar.  It had absorbed the impact and shielded Miss M.  We think that DH had put the brake bar down but that it had not "clicked" into the spokes and, so, when Miss M started rocking around in it while waiting for me, she had jolted it loose and thus the great roll. 

That night she complained about her ear hurting just before bed.  I thought it might have something to do with her hitting the stroller when she had hit the wall, so I gave her a little Tylenol and sent her to bed.  Saturday morning she woke up assuring me that it felt just fine.  Right?

We went down to Tacoma for DH's cousin's daughter's baptism and birthday party.  It was a sweet event, but Baby S was super whiny and Miss M started to follow suit at the party.  By the time we left they were both screaming and hot and fevery and Miss M was screaming about the pain in her ears.  She and I spent Saturday evening in the Urgent Care getting her a prescription for her ear infection.  I should have taken Baby S with me, but thought hers was just a virus and a cold and her teeth. 

DH and I spoke in church on Sunday.  It was a circus.  He went to bed at 10:30 and I went to bed at 12:30.  I had helped Miss M and Baby S who had both woken up.  He dealt with both of them as well around 2:30 or 3.  I jumped in around 3:30 or 4 to help with whomever was up.  It felt like a giant game of all-night Whack-a-Mole. 

By 6:30 I was up and in the shower and everyone else followed shortly thereafter.  Everyone had to go to church since we both had to speak!  Baby S was miserable and Miss M wasn't much more enjoyable on the misery scale.  Bless my sweet nephew who came to sit with us in church.  Between him and the new, cheap Crayola drawing books I had bought the day before, Miss M and Mr. A stayed quiet for a good 20 minutes.  I sat with the kids until after the sacrament.  I was the first adult speaker.  I gave my talk, sat down and listened to the choir, and then walked off the stand and took my two girls out in the foyer for the remainder of the meeting where we listened to DH give his talk. 

As soon as "Amen" was said, the 3 of us marched out to the car and I brought the 2 of them home and put them to bed. 

I started fixing dinner for Kim's bday dinner (she and Tom came over at 4) and cookies for CIM that night that was at our house (w/DH's cousins, aunt, uncle, brother and his kids).  I fell into bed Sunday night.  And, then Baby S was up from 2-3:30.  She was so miserable.  To the pediatrician we went on Monday morning.  Double ear infection. 

Enough already!!  I need a weekend from my weekend! 

However, we were all so blessed with what we needed.  For that I am so grateful.

Mobile

Before I learned last weekend (when my phone did this for the 2nd time in as many weeks) that my phone has a setting on it wherein if someone (a child who shall remain nameless) tries to put in the wrong password too many times it resets the phone (erasing all photos, videos, etc, etc), I uploaded a few pics to Facebook.  I usually don't upload that many, but, boy am I glad that I uploaded what I did.  I'd be super bummed if I lost them. 

One of them was a video, though, of Miss M starting to walk.  Her first steps actually.  Taken on October 1st and 2nd while her grandparents were in town to see it.  She'll take a few more now (6 or so at a time) and loves to push her sister's shopping cart everywhere it will squeakily go (WD40 stat).  It's gone, but I'll try to take some more. 

But here are the ones I DID save.

First day getting to ride the bus...pure happiness

Something about the setting, the coordinating chair and towel colors, the largesse of the beach and the chair in comparison to the little person in it.  Love it.

Cake and frosting take 2.  She devoured it both times.  And then she found her voice and became a very opinionated, demanding, and oh so stinking kissable, huggable, squeezable, muggable little 1 year old

Such a Gentleman

Mr. A has done some of the cutest things lately.  In spite of his "I'm so tired from Kindergarten, I must meltdown at 6:30 every night," he has managed to pull some gems out.

Yesterday he asked me to lay down with him during SSNT (Seamons Sacred Naptime, for those of you wondering.  It happens every Sunday at approximately 1:00 pm).  DH was out of town for work and I decided to oblige.  It's only what a good mother would do, right?!  I had turned my back to his and within a minute this little hand started scratching my back.  He always asks for his back to be scratched, but this was the first time he actually scratched mine back!  Unprompted, nonetheless! 

Mr. A also has a baby sister, Baby S, who is OBSESSED with shoes.  She demands that they be put on the minute she gets out of bed in the morning.  I think she thinks she's going places immediately.  And, often, she changes which shoes she wants on.  This morning Mr. A was getting dressed when Baby S crawled her way into the closet in their room, picked out some new shoes, and immediately began demanding (with her loud grunts and holding her shoes in the air) that somebody put those shoes on.  Well, wouldn't you know that my sweet Mr. A sat himself down on that floor and velcroed Baby S's shoes on to her 2 little chubby feet.  It warmed my heart in an instant.  Once again, unprompted. 

And then tonight after I had picked him up from playing at his cousins' house after school, I asked him what his favorite part of school was today.  "I got to play with Warnick (his cousin) at recess, Mom.  He heard me call his name and he came and played with me." 

I think he's starting to figure out the Golden Rule.  You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours.  3 cheers for that.

First Day

Miss M was off to preschool with her hair in a "low ponytail" and Mr. A started his grand adventures in Kindergarten.  Lucky ducks!

A Wedding

My little sister, Kimmy, got married last weekend on the beach.  We all gathered for the grand affair and loved every minute of it. 

These 2 little beauties are just 8 months apart.  They sure loved each other.

Baby S perfected her "hairy eyeball" look while we were there

Cousins giving each other a "little" love

Mr. A is in his cheesy phase

Dancing Queen

She thought she had died and become a princess

GQ

Rare form this one was in - her hair looked like that all night

Good thing there aren't more of them, huh?! :)

Beautiful bride

Baby S and her mama

She was all over the place

Hair flower off...bring on the dancing, people.

A rare moment for this one to "sit it out"

Our 3 happy little people

The Happy Place

Sand.  Shovels.  Waves.  Boogie Boards.  The Ocean.  Shells.  Sand Castles.  Snacks.  Sun.  Breeze.  Rolling Tides.  Chairs.  Umbrellas.  Chit Chat.  Family.  Friends.  Smiles.  Squeals.  Laughter.  Beach. 

Teeth

She didn't really want to show it off

I've discussed Baby S's lack of teeth often on this blog.  And, so, I thought it important that I mention she finally got one.  12 months and 24 days after her birth to be exact.  She got 1 - the one on the bottom right.  And it solo'd it in her mouth for a good 2 weeks.  And, then, 2 weeks ago she got the other one on the bottom.  And then, last week, she cracked a top one through.  You go, girl!

For Me. And My Memory.

These next few posts are for me, my fading memory, and my kids who may want to remember things in years to come.  I hate to let it all slip away, so off we go...

How I Potty Trained a Freshly-Turned 3 Year Old

I thought she would go to Kindergarten in diapers.  I really did.  We begged and pleaded and bribed and sat and pleaded and bribed and begged some more.  NOTHING DOING.  This girl wasn't ditching the diapers for Starbursts, Little People Carriages, or even offers for anything she wanted.  I couldn't understand it.  Girls were supposed to be way more advanced on this stuff than boys.  She was supposed to potty train herself at 18 months, for crying out loud.  Her brother was 2 1/2 when he traded the Pampers for the Spiderman.  She was now 3.  And, it was slightly ridiculous.  Not even slightly.  I was so done with her not being potty trained. 

Wouldn't YOU be ready to see this face regularly if you were a toilet?!

But, as I might have mentioned previously, no amount of any efforts on my part were going to make a difference in that stubborn little mind.  And, so, I had given up.  "She'll go when she's ready," my mom kept saying.  I guess so.  I figured by the time we moved and had gotten settled, we could try again.  She'd only be 1/2 way to 4.  Who cares, right?

And, so it was very innocently one Monday afternoon in mid-June when Mr. A asked me if THIS was the week he was going to gymnastics camp.  "Not this week, I replied, but next week."  Miss M happened to be within earshot and quickly piped up, "I want to go to gymnastics camp!  Mommy, I go, too, with Mr. A?"

"No, you can only go to gymnastics camp if you go on the potty ALL the time - every single time - and wear big girl panties."

"Fine, Mom.  I do it.  I go ALLL the time.  I go get my big girl panties right now."

She had one week and I figured we'd see.  Gymnastics camp hung over her head like the biggest dangling carrot ever.  A few accidents here and there in the next 5 days, but wouldn't you know that this little girl got to go to gymnastics camp the following week with her big brother and did not have one accident.  Not even a squirt. 

Her best buddy, Mr. A., took her every time she needed to go.  He has a good heart, that Mr. A.  And, the 2 of them have a pretty tight squeeze on one another's hearts. 

I'm pretty sure they held hands just like this every time he took her to the bathroom.  Love these two.

I will most certainly not win any Mother of the Year Awards for how I potty trained my first daughter.  I don't care, though.  I bought her potty training-ness for a pretty penny.  And wish I'd done it 6 months earlier. 

Miss M, for the record, you were worth every penny anyway!  Sure love you!

Little by Little

My sister-in-law, Kelly, inspired me to post again.  She does it every day.  She's that kinda gal - she went from absolutely nothing to every day something.  I told her I didn't want to use my blog to whine.  She said sometimes that's what it's for, even if it's just a little something.  So, I'll start with my favorite little something.

Baby S.  She turned 1 on July 25.  1. Yes, 1 year old.  Time marches so quickly on.  I love it and I hate it all at the same time.  She is a peanut of a gal.  She weighed 19 lbs 2 oz at her check up.  She's in the 20th percentile for weight.  But, she was in the 75th percentile for height.  Go figure.  No teeth - not a one in sight, even.  She's crawling all over.  In the last 2 weeks she has started pulling herself up and letting us "walk" her around while her tiny little hands hold on to our index fingers on either side for stability.  I can make a little Bam-Bam pony tail on the top of her head.  And sometimes she'll even leave the bow in for 5 or 10 minutes.  Until she remembers it's there and pulls it out, tries to put it back in by putting it on top of her head, and then hands it to me to put back in and repeat that game until I'm done.  She L-O-V-E-D her birthday cupcake.  The big one I was planning to make her got packed up in the hundreds of thousands of pounds of stuff that is in storage, but a homemade yellow one with chocolate frosting sufficed.  We celebrated her 2 nights in a row.  Lucky girl.  And, lucky mom.  I love nothing more than watching a newly-minted 1-year-old smoosh that frosting and cake all over their face.  My son wanted nothing to do with it.  My girls, on the other hand.  Can't get enough.  And Baby S performed both nights.  Cake crumbles and frosting remnants all over tiny hands, and chubby cheeks, and a toothless wonder smile shining through.  I love my Baby S so much.  She is so entertained by her brother and sister, yet so into doing things in her own way and even by herself.  She gets fed when she claps (her way of signing "more"), and even other times if she can scream over the others.  She drinks her juice from her sippy and loves to chew on her toothbrush, even though she doesn't yet need it.  No teeth does not stop her from enjoying the finer things in life, however.  She still eats chicken nuggets, cheese, yogurt, peas, corn, cinnamon raisin toast, saltine crackers, pretzels, quesadillas, rice and beans, olives, ramen noodles, chicken noodle soup, etc, etc.  She just sucks a little longer, I guess, to soften it right up!  I'm pretty sure it's a testament of her tenacity and patience. 

And on to my next little something.  That little thing with a roof where we put beds and toys and belongings and make memories.  A house.  I think I miss my old house because we have yet to find a new one.  Well, I guess we've found one, but the powers that be are just taking their sweet time to realize that it's ours.  My DH is working his hardest on that one and it will all work out.  We'd really like for it to be sooner rather than later, though.  More on that if it works out.

My last little thing of the night.  My friends.  My sweet, Philadelphia-forever friends.  They'll never leave.  And, we'll likely never move back.  I'm starting to come to grips with that.  Little by little. The night I said goodbye to one of my best ones and walked back into the hotel at 3:00 AM (when we went back to pack up the house. I mean supervise others packing the house and loading the truck. we hung with friends as much as we could) my last night there, I'd been crying so hard and for so long that the hotel night clerk took one look at me and asked if I'd just broken up with my boyfriend.  No, sir, it's much worse than that.  Much, much sadder.  I then took my cryfest upstairs and sobbed into my DH's shirt for quite some time.  I didn't sleep that night.  It was finally real.  We were leaving.  I cried some more on the way to the airport and then when the plane took off.  And I still have days where I can't fight back the crocodile tears.  But, they are becoming fewer.  And, as I told a dear friend today - sometimes the right thing and the hard thing are the same thing.  And, thus it is for me.

I think that's all I've got for now.  Thanks, Kel.  Come back next time for a much more upbeat account of life in the place where I spent my first 65* and cloudy birthday EVER.  :)