Say cheese and don't ever do that again

Tonight, I'm ironing Ben's gown for graduation this evening. (For those of you trying to figure out what secret we've been keeping, no, Ben is not graduating. He is attending Baccalaureate Mass at the High School he works at, so every year we have to break out the cap and gown garb for the event.)

As I'm ironing, my back to the kitchen, I hear a high-pitched squealing noise that immediately makes me think, "Oh, that can't be good". Clearly, Sophie is delighting in something that she knows she is not supposed to.


And indeed, I turn around to find this.

Sophie standing in the dog's water. Treating her little toes to a dog-bowl bath.


Of course, I properly reprimanded her. But not before grabbing the camera to snap a picture.





Does that send a mixed message? I'm starting to think so. She seemed awful proud of herself afterwards. I mean, if its the kind of thing people want to capture on camera, surely its the kind of thing that bears repeating? Over and over again? In front of company whenever possible?

Canada in Exile

Well, its official. Canada has moved in.

For the first week or so, he was fairly mild-mannered. Very loving and not nearly as puppy-like as I expected. Rarely chewing on things, not too jumpy or hyper.


Turns out, he was just snowing us until we all fell in love with him too much to do anything about it when his real puppy-self was revealed.


We've had a couple toy casualties, a decorative basket was systematically destroyed, he nips at anyone's feet that make their way down the stairway, jumps up and grabs food from the kids while they eat at the dinner table, grabs stuffed animals from poor unsuspecting Sophie, and runs circles around the house during his hyper time of 6 to 8 p.m.


But, alas.... We love him.


As much as he can drive me batty, and as much time as I spend hollering at him, he really does fit into the family quite well, and I'm very happy with him. I find his emerging puppy-ness endearing, because I think it means he considers himself at home. We're his family, dammit.


Sneaky little guy, he is.

One - turns out its not a lonely number at all

I love one-year-olds. Its such a cool age.


Don't get me wrong.... I tend to adore whatever ages my kids are currently at. There's neat stuff that comes with every age -- like Travis going to school, developing a love of reading, learning how things work, advancing his critical thinking skills. For instance, last night I was playing "Word Warp" on the iTouch. Travis said, "you couldn't play word warp with just one letter, because its called word warp -- and you can't warp just one letter!" I loved the fact that not only did he of course determine what was necessary for the mechanics of the game, but that he even related it to the name of the game. He's one sharp cookie.


And Noah, at nearly-three - its awesome to watch his burgeoning sense of humor, his greater understanding of relationships, cause & effect, and the like. There's something really fascinating about the two and three year old age, because they're so dependent and independent at the same time.


No, I love where the boys are at, and I would never want them to go back to those days when I counted their ages in months instead of years.


But I do think the one-year stage is my favorite.


Having seen the boys go through this age, I know that this is indeed a precursor to what Sophie's personality will eventually develop into -- her stubbornness and sense of purpose are not likely to recede. But she's not yet at the place where she is willfully defiant or testing boundaries -- like Noah, for instance, who knows just how to push everyone's buttons, or Travis, who gets moody and sullen when he doesn't get his way. No, Sophie is just pure and honest in her agenda and her motivations. Happy when she gets what she wants, sad when she doesn't -- but not begrudging, not bitter. She's thrilled with simple joys, like Canada licking at her toes while she sits at the dinner table; she delights in silly games and peek-a-boo; she screams when she gets reprimanded for playing with the dog food bowl, she cries when Noah won't let her play Wii Sports Resort, but a kiss and a cuddle are all it takes to cheer her up. She wakes up loving life, a smile on her face, ready to take on whatever comes her way.


Aaah, my sweet Sophie.

Bicycle trailer built for two (but I got three in there anyway)

Crammed all the kiddos into our new bike trailer today. I wasn't prepared to attach it to my bike just yet, though -- I think I'll need Ben for that part. But, it doubles as a stroller, so we took a nice stroll complete with dog on leash.

The kids were a little cramped (and, yes, I shoved them in there despite the warnings all over the box about a "MAXIMUM CAPACITY" of 2 -- at least we were still under the weight limit), but they loved it, Canada enjoyed running alongside them, and it was a decent workout for me.

First Blog

I feel a little like Doogie Howser, as I update my blog. I notice myself thinking of my day in little blurb-y paragraphs, with the perfect combination of wit and reflection.

Was Doogie the original blogger? Who knew?

So, I'll leave you with some immortal words of wisdom from Doogie himself.

MONDAY, JUNE 11, 1990

Why am I busting my butt as a doctor while Wanda is strolling down the Champs Elysees? Maybe if I knew a little less, I'd have time to live a little more. Even when you're a genius, life's a mystery.

A Photo Montage of Fun Fair 2010

Noah playing Plinko - yes, he's back there somewhere.

Travis playing basketball

Uh -- this is Travis going down the slide. I was too slow with the camera. You can see Noah heading for the steps in the middle. I learned my lesson this time, though, yessirree, I'll get a good picture the second time around.....

Nope. Too quick on the trigger this time. Those are Noah's shoes getting ready to make their way down.

Sophie's favorite part of the Fun Fair -- eating.

Noah

Travis cheesing for the camera.

Okay -- not nearly as cheesy as Dad.

And here's me.

More eating....cake this time.

Eat some cake, ma!

Of COURSE I'll have some cake!!

Swoop shows up at the fun fair! Travis and Noah are crowding to get a closer look. Travis loves Swoop. Noah's a little unsure.

Sophie's not unsure at all. This is right up her alley.

Sophie trying to give Swoop a hug. Travis trying to help.

Noah got a little shy. I absolutely love this picture, because, even though Swoop's facial expression is perpetual and unchangeable, it totally looks like he's thinking, "Gee. Wonder what's wrong with that kid?"

Travis going through the obstacle course.

He made it all the way through! Tougher than you might think. Can't you just see the pride on his face??

Bean bag toss

Noah's turn. This was his "starting" position, then he inched closer and closer as he extended his arm, until he was essentially dropping it into the hole. Hey, whatever works.

Please let me out of the blasted stroller? PLEASE?!??!!!?

Finally. Thank you.

The boys LOVED the cake walk. They did it probably ten times. Noah even won us a plate of chocolate chip cookies!

Showing off his loot. Hey, he worked HARD for that!! He walked in a circle, like, a bunch of times!

Travis getting in on the action. You should have seen him when Noah won the cake walk. They were standing on consecutive numbers, so Travis was right next to him. I wondered if he might be disappointed that he didn't win. Oh, no, my friends, quite the opposite. He was jumping up and down and giving Noah high-fives. And that was before he realized that cookies came with the deal.

Okay, I love this picture, because, well, who couldn't love this picture?? This sums up our Fun Fair afternoon quite well.

Lost

Tonight, Travis and I made a book. We've been talking about doing it for a while, so sat down tonight and finally got it done. Its called:

Grumpy Bear goes to the Beach for the very first time

Travis dictated, and I wrote. I take no credit for any of the content within in the book, as it all came from his little imagination.

Part of the story was about Grumpy Bear's secret keys, which are invisible and also presumably magical, since they move by themselves and go wherever Grumpy tells them to go.

The purpose of them being invisible is apparently so that other Care Bears don't accidentally grab them, as is explained in the book.

I think this comes from Travis's understanding of how pitiful both of his parents are at keeping track of our keys. There is not a week that goes by where we're not bickering about who was the last person to use whose keys, or contemplating about where one might have put one's keys after coming in from the grocery with arms laden, or haggling about who gets to use which keys since the other keys are lost. Couple this with Ben's tendency to stick anything in his pocket that lingers in his hand for more than fifteen seconds, and it leads to an awful lot of discussion about the whereabouts of key rings.

Oh, to have invisible magical keys like Grumpy Bear.

Life Lessons

Travis just got done playing me a song on the piano. He finished up, turned to me, and told me the song was called "The Rock" because "it rocks and rolls." That it does, Travis, that it does.

We had a fairly laid back night tonight, having a marathon of silly kids games.... Ants in the Pants, Scatterpillar Scramble, Hungry Hungry Hippo, Toy Story Kerplunk, and Cars Bingo. Most of the games involved me, Noah, and Travis crowded around the toy table, while I simultaneously focused on batting Sophie away with one hand to keep her away from the marbles, or the mini-aliens, or the ants, or the bingo discs.

But, wait, what's this? Is this all three of my children cooperating and cleaning up at the same time? With no fights, and no near-choking incidents? Ahh, the night was a success.

After our game session, Travis informed me he was "MAD!" at me, because I told him he could not play with iPhone (or the iTouch or the Droid). I told him that sometimes I get mad too... and what happens when I get mad is that I get sulky and snappy and I'm no fun to be around. And then I realize I'm not having any fun because I'm not being any fun. And if you can find a way to be fun, chances are you'll have fun. So, Travis, can you think of any way to be fun right now?

Travis contemplated this for a moment.

And then Noah licked me.

He had been sitting on my lap, absentmindedly playing with some toy, apparently heard my conversation with Travis, and decided the appropriate way to BE fun would be to lick Mom. On the cheek. All slobbery and slippery in its unabashedly slimy glory.

Well, as it turns out, its hard for pretty much any kid to be in a grumpy mood when Mom is being licked. Problem solved.

Dedicate THIS

In a testament to what a pitiful mother I've been, we had dedications at our church for Noah and Sophie this last weekend. Travis's dedication was performed when he was a sprightly 9 months old. Here's Sophie at 16 months...okay not so bad... and Noah, at a full 33 months (2 yrs 9 mo if you're trying to keep track)... certainly one of the oldest children there.

Its not as if I was on the fence about whether I would have Noah dedicated.

There was no 'principle' behind the matter.

I just procrastinated. And delayed. And forgot.

Not one of my finer moments.

At any rate, in her oh-so-Sophie way, darling Sophie spent the entire time trying to sneak her way under the seats or through my legs or some other crafty route. She can't stand being confined. And as we stood on stage while two-thirds of my glorious progeny were declared sanctified as per the tradition of the church, Sophie wriggled and struggled in my arms and implored the church officials "Up? Up?? UP UP UPUPUP??" (She says "up" to mean either "up" OR "down", or, more frequently, "DOWN to whoever currently has me and UP to whoever I'm currently trying to win over!"

So that's done.

In other news, I just put the kids to bed and Noah said, "I want to tell you about my dream" -- and I'm thinking, nice try kiddo, I just put you DOWN for bed, I might be a little daft sometimes but even I know you haven't had a dream yet. But I humored him, asked him to please tell me about his dream and he responded, "Maybe you and Dad and Travis can save me from my dream."

Hm. I wonder if he actually is having bad dreams. The kid is the most delightful pile of sunshine in the mornings that I have ever seen (contrast that with big bro, who employs his most pitiful whimper-y tone most mornings and is adamant that he just can't stand up, or walk, or eat breakfast, or get dressed.... you get the picture). Anyway, back to Noah, he rarely wakes up in the middle of the night, I just can't imagine that he's having bad dreams, but.... his plea for someone to 'save' him has me wondering. Maybe I can pry more out of him tomorrow.

And, finally, the legacy lives on. Tonight we hid hot dogs for Canada. He's got a long way to go before he is Maggie-riffic at the hot-dog search & recovery mission but I have a feeling he'll get there.

You're taking me WHERE?!?!

We had a pretty bad thunderstorm last night, and into the morning. Since this is our first week with Canada as our newest family member, we didn't know how he would react to the storm.

I think he did pretty good, I didn't hear any whining or whimpering or other such freaking out.

But, this morning, it was still going pretty good. And Ben loaded up Canada into the truck, in the pouring rain, thunder & lightning, to take him to the vet.

To get neutered.

So I have a feeling that Canada will forever associate thunderstorms with this horrible surgical experience involving emasculation. If he wasn't afraid of storms before, you can be darn sure he will be from now on.

Turn around

Today I decided to give Sophie some cereal in her very own bowl. With her very own spoon. As compared to me literally spoon-feeding her and slapping her hands away as she tried to take over operations. I will let her try feeding herself but we've never ventured so far as to try the really sloppy stuff like cereal or applesauce or pudding.

I envisioned a huge mess and was fully prepared to bat clean-up (meaning, I had Canada on stand-by). But, to my surprise, she did awesome!! She actually got a fair amount of it on the spoon, ate it without too much spillage, and I barely helped at all. I actually left her alone for the last half instead of hovering over her shoulder, and came back to the bowl still intact on the table as opposed to tossed on the floor with Honey Nut Cheerios (I mean Honey Nut Spins) strewn everywhere.

Good job Sophie!

In other Sophie news, she is now forward-facing in her car seat. Yes, she is over 16 months old, but she just recently topped out over 20 lbs which is the one half of the required benchmark for turning around. But she was starting to get a little squished with her little legs unable to stretch all the way out unless she stuck them straight up in the air. Good things she's flexible.

So, now she's turned around, like the big kids. Its kind of a metaphor for her life. She's leaving babyhood behind, where everything just happened to her without her having any control. And she's heading full speed forward as a toddler, ready to take the world by storm.

And finally, I just now got around to making the birthday video for Travis. Behold....

Monday's child

Sometimes I wonder what Noah would have been like had he been the first child.

He and Travis are light years apart in terms of personality... and some of that was perceptible from infancy, so there's parts of it that I'm sure have nothing to do with birth order. But a lot of who Noah is has to do with how he sees Travis reacting. Not that they react the same way, but Noah's reaction is somehow gauged by what his big brother does.

Sometimes, I think he purposefully reacts exactly opposite of Travis, because there is an opposite there for him to see....unlike Travis, who had to traverse that territory all on his own.

Noah's a bit more rambunctious than his older brother, a bit more willing to break the rules. But he also has a crazily infectious smile, and its impossible not to fall in love with his sparkly eyes and sense of humor, and the way his whole face lights up when he's happy.

Anyway, I got to thinking about this, and thinking about how dramatically different his life would be if he was just born at a different time.

This got me thinking about the miscarriage we had just before getting pregnant with Noah (and when I say just before, I mean just before....we got pregnant with Noah well before my doctor advised it was safe to do so after the miscarriage and before we even thought it was possible for us to conceive again). I remember how it felt back then, like my life was caving in on me. It was such a sad, forlorn, empty pain that I felt. There is something about feeling like I failed my unborn child, like I couldn't provide it with the safe haven it deserved and thus its life was not allowed to continue. It was an early miscarriage -- but my motherly instinct kicked in for that clump of cells just the same as for any other baby. That was MY clump of cells and I fully intended to develop that clump of cells into a beautiful, nurtured, well-loved bundle of joy.

I remember after losing that pregnancy, Ben trying to cheer me up and saying, "Don't worry -- we'll get pregnant again." And my tearful response, "But I don't want to get pregnant with another baby... I want THIS baby!" I still remember with clarity how that felt, how unfair it seemed that God was asking me to let go of that child that I'd already connected with, and that I was supposed to replace that with some eventual baby that we'd probably have. How could I replace that baby? What kind of mother could do that? I felt it was important that we not get pregnant right away because it seemed disrespectful to this lost child...like all I wanted was a baby and I didn't care what baby it was.

But, alas, we did get pregnant right away... and as it turns out, I was dead wrong. I most certainly DID want to get pregnant with that other baby, because it has turned into my darling Noah, who I could not imagine life without.

There's still a little part of me that mourns for that lost child - even though we've been so blessed and our lives have turned out so well. I think of it as God's way of saying He had hand-picked Noah especially for us, and we just needed to be a little more patient so that we could have Noah in our lives.

Fun Fair, indeed

Tonight was the last meeting of the Holy Cross Fun Fair Committee. I joined this year because a woman that works with Ben and lives in our neighborhood is heading it up and needed some volunteers. Being that this is Travis's first year at that school and I really don't have any other dealings with the Holy Cross community, I'm a little clueless as to what on earth I could possibly contribute to this group.

At any rate, the Fun Fair is in a couple weeks, and I believe will turn out quite nicely. The organizer, Lisa, assigned everyone a nice little job, and I hit the jackpot of jobs by being asked to coordinate the outside games. These are the big, fancy games that we hire a vendor to handle -- so there's not much to my job other than finding a good vendor and picking out what looks like fun. Lisa knew I would be likely be overwhelmed with anything that involved actual work, seeing as how this was my first experience with the Fun Fair, so she set me up nicely.

So I called around and talked to a few vendors, and then one name that came up was one that I see every year when one of my largest clients has this large annual festival that I help coordinate the insurance for -- and this vendor came well recommended. So I get their prices, ask if they could offer us a discount because its "for the kids" (as if all the other events they do involving big inflatable toys aren't for the kids -- no, I'm sure these get rented out for office parties and hunting clubs all the time), and its a church and we don't have that big of a budget and so they offer us a discount and I gather all the info and present it to Lisa.

And she flips out. Turns out, the pricing I got is about half to one-third of what they typically spend on this event each year, and the stuff is better too. So we have a bouncy house, an inflatable slide, an inflatable obstacle course, and a gigantic rock wall all to be set up in the parking lot of the elementary school for the kiddies to enjoy.

So, now, my job is done, it was super-easy, my volunteering experience for Holy Cross was incredibly enjoyable and not stressful at all. I intend to tell Lisa that, as she did a phenomenal job coordinating the whole thing and I am terribly impressed by what she was able to get done. But I have a sneaking suspicion that she's swindling me into thinking it is always this easy so I'll be on board for future committees.

I'm just kidding. Kind of.

T-Ball

Tonight, Ben and I decided to 'divide and conquer', as is so often the case nowadays since we are outnumbered. He took Noah out to do some grocery shopping, get a haircut, do some cell-phone shopping (Ben is much better at shopping than I am... that's another blog post altogether). I took Travis and Sophie to T-ball practice.

It was such a nice night, I thought it wouldn't be too difficult to hang out at the ball park for an hour or so, let Sophie toddle around as we watched the 5- and 6-year olds tackle each other while racing to field the ball, playing with dirt in the outfield, and other random goings-on of a typical T-ball practice. I wouldn't say it was difficult, although Sophie is quite the busybody.

She started off by depositing her stuffed duck and plush baseball and purple hat in the lap of Travis's teammate's mother. She spent about fifteen minutes going back and forth between said mother and whoever else she could find in the stands to charm with her wily ways. She got bored with that fairly quickly though, and decided she most definitely deserved to be out on the ball field with the big kids.

I so wish I would have brought my camera... I wanted to get a picture of Travis at practice, and it would have been fabulous to capture the memory of Sophie rushing home plate with soft stuffed baseball in hand, looking for all the world like she belonged on the baseball diamond in her 16-month old glory.

But, of course, I forgot my camera.

I forgot something else, as it turns out. I forgot to remove my keys from the car before locking it. Which means, when practice ends, and I'm digging through my purse for the keys, I all of a sudden realize they are most certainly not in there and then it dawns on me where they probably are. Crap.

The kicker... Ben had misplaced his cell phone so had taken my cell phone for the day because... well, a) he needs a phone for work, and b) I suck at using / charging/ talking on / and otherwise taking advantage of the technological capacity of cell phones. Travis's coach let me borrow his phone but to no avail... I left a message at our home number but of course he wasn't there, and he wasn't answering my phone (left it at the house, oops).

So I'm stranded at the ball park with a 5-year-old and a 1-year-old and we're all getting a little grumpy and tired and ready to go home. But, seeing as how I'm so resourceful, I realized that a friend of mine just so happened to be on the other side of the park watching her son playing his baseball game. I tracked her down and she was able to give our sad little stranded family a ride back home.

So, all's well that ends well, we did end up having a nice night. But, I'm as forgetful as I've ever been and its starting to catch up with me. There was something else I wanted to say but...I forget.

Our new best friend

Ben tries to train Canada into a Frisbee dog. He might have his work cut out for him.

Our sweet little puppy -- we love him!

Playing in the backyard. Is she cute or what??

Travis doesn't want to be overlooked. Take a picture of me too, Ma!

I don't normally lock my kids up in cages. (I am tempted to sometimes, I have to admit.) But they insisted.