My precious Sam,

Sweet boy, how is it possible that you are two years old?  It can't possibly have been two whole years since that doctor plopped you on my belly and I thought, "What in the world do I do now?"  Back then, I was totally baffled when someone told me I would recognize your cries, know your every need, be able to comfort you when few others could.  But somewhere along the way, it just happened--you taught me how to be a mom.  I love that I can translate what you're saying to others...that you stay close to me when something is unfamiliar...that I get to be the one to put that last kiss on your head at night.

Right now, your favorite things are Legos, blocks, watching Mickey Mouse, Winnie the Pooh, playing outside and Molly.  You still love books, but you don't have the patience to let anyone actually read one to you.  You'd much rather sit and flip through it at your own pace.  Every time you hear the door open, you race towards the freedom that awaits on the other side so you can ride your tractor in the driveway or ring the doorbell on our front door.  But you have the most fun when Molly chases you through the yard and the two of you roll in the mud together.

You are such a busy child.  I've never seen a kid with a longer to-do list than you have.  As soon as your feet hit the floor in the morning you're all over the house looking for some cabinet to open (then slam shut), stairs to climb, drawers to empty or buttons to push.  There's just so much to do!  You will sometimes argue with me when I have the audacity to suggest that you stop long enough to do silly things like eat or take a nap.  But your protests are usually short-lived.  As soon as you finish eating  you shout, "Done!" then remind me to wipe your hands and mouth (lest I should forget) before you try to vault yourself out of your highchair.  When I put you down for a nap you have to have your pillow pets and your stuffed animals arranged around you just so before you lie down and remind me to cover you up with your silky Pooh blanket.  (Good call on buying that, Dad.)

You will still eat almost anything.  There are a few foods that you don't care for their textures and will almost immediately spit them out but you will usually taste just about anything.  You're becoming more independent about feeding yourself, and you have now decided that you no longer require assistance with a fork or spoon.  If it's not something you can feed yourself, you will just refuse to eat it.  Needless to say, we have been cleaning up a lot of messes lately.  Your absolute favorite foods are fruit (of any kind), spaghetti, hot dogs and yogurt.  You love foods that you can "dip-dip" in ketchup (or any condiment for that matter), but really dipping your finger and licking it off is just as good.  You love to drink out of a regular cup, and you will usually abandon your drink for Mom's or Dad's even if everyone is drinking water.  Somehow it just tastes better when you don't have to slurp it through a straw. 

Sometimes I just have to stop and laugh at your boy-ness.  I catch a glimpse of you with your hair plastered to your forehead by sweat, your mud-streaked cheeks, your dirt-crusted fingernails, your skinned-up knees and your black and blue-spotted shins, and I just can't help but marvel at the little boy you have become.  When did it happen?  When did you go from being the baby that wanted to snuggle right up under my chin on my right side to the boy who wants to chase bubbles, roll in the grass and jump off of things?  How did you become the little man who is awestruck by big trucks, will find the tiniest mud puddle to stomp in and gazes longingly at Daddy's tools as if they have magical powers?

My favorite times with you are those times when you completely catch me off guard and remind me to just enjoy life. Like a few weeks ago when I was hurriedly putting your jacket on you so we could leave and you stopped and rested your head on my belly.  Or when you stop to examine what I assume is a weed but to you is the most beautiful flower in the world.  Or the times when I'm holding your hand and you have to stop walking so you can jump with both feet over a crack in the concrete.   Who besides a little boy sees the absolute necessity in that?

Happy birthday, my sweet boy.  This next year will bring a lot of changes for you.  Not only are we adding another member to our family, but every day I see you gaining just a little bit more independence.  I see your easy smile so reminiscent of your dad's; I see your bold, stubborn, I-can-do-it-myself streak that probably came from your mom.  I cannot even imagine what you will be like on this day a year from now, but of one thing I am certain:  I will love you.  Always.

Mommy

Things I Have Learned In My (Almost) 2 Years of Being A Mommy

1)  Being picked up and kissed by Mom will cure about 95% of boo-boos.

2)  An envelope of sugar-laden, gelatinous fruit snacks will cure about another 3%.

3)  Some days you just have to throw the schedule and the to-do list out the window.

4)  If a toddler likes a certain food and eats it like a ravenous dog on Tuesday, that is no guarantee that the same food will not be viewed as completely disgusting and inedible on Wednesday. 

5)  Mud and grass stains will wash away.  Memories stick around a little longer.  When in doubt, forget about the mud and make the memories.

6)  If you run out of hair gel, pancake syrup can be used as a substitute in a pinch.

7)  Waking up at 3am to chase away bad dreams and rock away tears is sometimes more fun than getting a full night's sleep. 

8)  With enough creativity and an impatient toddler,  you can make a game out of almost anything.

9)  Sometimes you just need to give a little boy (or girl) the yogurt and the spoon and let them figure it out.  That's why they make Oxy-Clean. 

10)  The laughter produced from a good, solid belly kiss is one of the most beautiful sounds in the world.

11)  Sometimes the only appropriate answer to the question, "Why did you do that?" is "Because he's two."  I suspect that in future years we will adjust that.  "Because he's five."  "Because he's twelve."  "Because he's a teenager."  Lord, help me.

12)  Just when you think you can't take anymore whining or fits, God whispers in their ear to give you that special little smile.  And suddenly--just like that--you're ready for another round.

13)  If you're not running, you're just wasting time.

14)  Running is more fun when you do it with your arms spread out to the sides like you're an eagle.  And even MORE FUN when you yell at the top of your lungs while you do it.  (It also makes you faster.)

15)  That first time you hold them, you think, "I will never feel more love than I do at this moment."  You are totally wrong.

How is it possible that my baby is almost 2 years old???

The Beauty of Ordinary Days

There's something wonderful about ordinary days.  It seems like lately, we have had some appointment or long list of errands that have to be accomplished on my days off or on the weekend.  But every now and then we get one of those lovely, delicious days where you can stay home, play outside, actually get caught up on laundry and maybe even cook a meal.  (The absurdity of such a thought!)  It's those days that I delight in.  There's nothing special about them, but there is a specialness in the ordinaryness.  (Yes, I just used two made-up words in once sentence.  I'm just that talented.) 

Sam is really pretty good at playing by himself.  Sometimes he will disappear and I will find him in his room, sitting in front of his bookshelf working a puzzle or flipping through his books. 

Of course, it's only fun if you drag ALL of the puzzles off of the shelf at once.

Blocks are another favorite around here.  He will get the bag of blocks out of his toy box then dump the entire bag in the middle of the living room floor.  The more they scatter, the happier he is.

He loves to build towers, but nothing...NOTHING...is more fun than knocking the towers down.  (Again, the more the blocks scatter, the bigger the giggles.)

Oh my, I love those little hands.

Lately, we've been playing outside.  A lot.  As in, every time Sam hears the door open he bolts out before you can even blink.  My legs are a lot longer than this kid's so you'd think that I could outrun him pretty easily, but he's surprisingly fast for someone who's (just barely) under 3 feet tall. 

Every time he goes down the slide, he has to roll in the grass a little bit afterwards.  He's all about the dismount.

Ay, we also have t' survey the surrounding area for any pirates that may want t' steal our bootie--the scurvy dogs.  (Huh-huh...bootie...)

Sometimes the telescope makes a pretty good megaphone too.  We're all about multipurposing our tools around here.

My dear Little One,

Holy moly, kid, we are almost to our 3rd trimester!  I can hardly believe how quickly this pregnancy is flying by.   You are still without a name.  Right now, Sydney is probably the front-runner, but we are completely clueless on a middle name.  We may just wait until you're old enough to pick it yourself and let you decide.  We would take suggestions from your brother, but I'm just guessing that you don't want Boo or Momo for a middle name. 

So far, this pregnancy has been blessedly uneventful, although I feel like I'm slightly more uncomfortable this time around.  It seems like I'm experiencing more indigestion and shortness of breath than what I remember with Sam (or maybe just sooner), but then again, I do find myself eating hurried meals and immediately getting up to chase a toddler around so maybe that has something to do with it.  If I had to describe it, it feels like you are so much higher than what I carried your brother.  Some days it feels like you are literally kicking me in the lungs. 

I think we've finally settled on a few ideas for your room.  Now that we have a plan in place, I'm excited to get everything in there!  I must confess, it's getting harder and harder for me to pass up all of the little ruffles and glittery what nots when I'm out shopping.  I started out with a goal of making your room feminine without it being over-the-top girly, but a little girly is okay, right? 

I'm getting a little concerned about late-night feedings and such.  Seriously, right now I cannot hold my eyes open past 10pm.  And on the nights that I don't sleep well, I may as well be resurrecting the Titanic when I try to pull myself out of bed in the morning.  I'm just trusting that I will have the strength and endurance that I need when the time comes, but it would make things SO MUCH easier if you would just be a good sleeper pretty early on.  So be thinking about that, if you will.

I'll have to admit--while I'm getting SO EXCITED about meeting you, I'm still a little overwhelmed at times when I think about two babies.  Two.  Two children to get strapped into carseats.  Two kiddos to bathe in the evenings.  Two kids to put in a stroller whenever we need to go anywhere.  I know other people do it every day (and with more children), but it just seems like such a big adjustment. 

But none of that changes the fact that we're glad you're coming.  We're excited to get to know you.  We can't wait to meet you and kiss your sweet face.  It won't be too much longer now...

I love you already,
Mommy

Thankful Thursday

This week, I am thankful for:

1)  A tear-free hair cut.  Actually, the hair cut took place a couple of weekends ago, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm sooooooooooo thankful for it.  Hair cuts have been somewhat traumatic for Sam.  His first one was okay...until they got the clippers out.  After that, it just all went down hill.  The next time we went back, I ended up sitting in the barber's chair and holding him, and it was STILL a disaster.  Not only did he scream the entire time, he also got gapped in a couple places because he kept trying to jerk away from the scissors.  But this time, the lady cutting his hair was super awesome, and nary a tear was shed. 

And as a reward for his bravery, he got a sucker.

2)  A tear-free visit to the church nursery.  We have had very little success with the nursery at church.  At first, I just kept plugging along (at the advice of one of the nursery workers), confident that he would eventually become more comfortable.  Every week, we would drop Sam off in the nursery, and just about every week we would get paged to come pick him up before the end of the service.  The director assured us that this was common and just to keep introducing him every Sunday.  Then Sam broke his leg, so we kept him out for a few weeks--as much for the comfort of the nursery volunteers as our own peace of mind.  We didn't want anyone to feel intimidated by caring for a baby in a cast.  (I mean, we were intimidated enough for them!)  So after the cast came off and we tried it again it was a complete failure.  I pulled Mommy Rank and decided that he just needed that time with us.  I knew he was being taken care of and I also knew it was good for Shawn and me to have some time to worship and learn without having that distraction, but I just felt like for whatever reason Sam was telling us he needed to be with us.  So we put it on hold for a while.  But lately we've been pretty distracting during church.  Sam's all about the "joyful noise" part, but when it comes time to sit still and be quiet...well, it's tough on little guys.  And Shawn and I spend more effort keeping him quiet than we do actually listening ourselves.  So this week we decided to try it again.  And HALLELUJAH when we went to the classroom they had steps!!!  AND GOLDFISH!!!  In no time at all we were forgotten. 

3)  Thirty-three years on this earth.  Yesterday was my 33rd birthday.  I thought about writing a post entirely on it's own, but really what can I say?  I'm thankful for another year.  Thankful for the blessings the past year has brought.  Thankful for the blessings the next year will bring.  Thankful for friends made and lessons learned.  I'm even thankful that I have a few new crow's feet laugh lines, because they are a reminder of good times had.

Search and Rescue

Sam has a Pooh Bear that is very sacred to him.  And by sacred, I mean goes everywhere with us, stinks to high Heaven because he chews on it, I cannot imagine what a crisis it would be if we lost that bear.  Matters of national security would probably take a back seat (at least in my mind) if "Boo" were to go missing.  Sam sleeps with him.  He sits at the table with us when we eat.  (Sometimes, if a certain little boy is being picky about his food, Boo has a bite or two to get everyone else interested in their food.)  He runs errands with us during the day.  He has seen us through some pretty scary times, including doctors' appointments and our visit with Santa this year.

One day last week, Ms. Tammy texted me at work and asked if she could just drop Sam off to me a few minutes before closing time.  Her grandson was in a play at his elementary school and that was the only way she could make it on time.  I'm always willing to go with this plan, because it shaves off about 30 minutes of our evening.  I excitedly let Shawn know we would be home a little bit earlier than normal and began planning how we would use our extra play time that night. 

I should have known better.

As we were leaving the clinic, Sam started to get a little whiny so I went to his bag to get Pooh out.  And HOLD THE PHONE, STOP THE PRESSES--POOH WASN'T THERE!!!  I immediately tried to call Ms. Tammy, thinking maybe...JUST MAYBE...he was still in her car.  But she had already turned her phone off for the play.  I sat there contemplating our options:

1)  Go home and try a night without Pooh.

2)  Wait around until after the play and try to find Pooh.

After a very brief analysis, we decided the wait option was the only way to go.  I took off to the school, still hoping that the bear was just in the car and it would be an easy retrieval.  I drove to the elementary school and pulled into the parking lot.  Hmmm...that's strange.  You'd think if they were having a play, there would be some cars here.  Then, remembering which side of town her grandkids live on, I decided to check the other elementary school.  Just a few minutes later, I was again sitting in an empty parking lot...the only car there.  Confused and perplexed, I called my coworker (aka, my source of information about anything Irvine-related). 

"Where in the world is this silly play?" I demanded.

"What play?" she replied.

"Tammy's grandson is in some kindergarten play, and I can't find it.  And she has Pooh!  I have to find that bear!"

Sensing my panic, she calmly gave me directions to yet another school where the play was most likely being held.  And then, as I was driving down the street, I noticed a man mowing his yard.  And his boxer dog was riding on the hood of his lawn mower---almost like an 80 pound hood ornament. 

I am not making this up.

It was at this point that I became convinced that Pooh was not, in fact, missing.  Rather, I was having a stroke.  I voiced my concerns to Amanda, who was still on the phone talking me down from my panic attack, and she just laughed saying, "I know exactly where you are!  Yeah...that guy's dog just likes riding the lawn mower with him.  Every time he mows he rides up there." 

We finally made it to the school and I spotted Tammy's vehicle.  I parked behind it and peeked inside.  No bear.  As I sat in the parking lot wondering how much of a stalker I would look like if I just went inside to find her, people started flooding out of the school.  Thank the Lord for kindergartners and their short attention spans!!!

In the end, Tammy realized that she had left Pooh at her house, and we made a hasty retrieval before heading home.  Instead of getting home 30 minutes earlier than anticipated, we got home an hour later than usual, but it was so worth it when bedtime came.

Then, this weekend while out picking up a few random things, Shawn spotted a Pooh bear that was almost exactly identical to ours.  So we bought two more.  We left the store patting ourselves on the back for our brilliance.

That night, Sam insisted on sleeping with all of the Poohs.  Awesome.