Reason #347 Why You Should Never Leave A 2 Year Old Unattended

I walked in just in time to hear him counting before he rode it off the bed.

Merry Christmas, everyone! We hope yours is injury free.

Cuppa Joe

Come sit and have a cuppa joe with me! If we were chatting over coffee (or tea...or Diet Coke...whatever your poison is), I would tell you:

We are just dipping our toes into the pool of potty training.  I have no idea what to do.  I'm pretty sure consistency is key in this area and consistent is something that I am NOT being right now.  I really have no idea how to even approach this.  Use Pull-Ups for a while or just take the plunge to underwear?  Ease into it by just using the potty at certain times of the day for now or just take a couple of days and pound the idea home?  Let Sam lead or push him a little?  This is just one of MANY areas where I feel completely ill-prepared for parenthood.  Seriously, this is the stuff I wish I had learned in high school.

Sidebar:  I promise, for the sake of my children's dignity, to not overshare in this area.  But if anyone has any tips or insights based on your own personal experience, I'd be delighted if you'd share with me.

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I was getting my hair cut one night last week, and I noticed the stylist carefully scrutinizing my face.  Suddenly, she asked if she could wax my eyebrows.  I don't remember what my exact response was, but I'm pretty sure it involved staring at her open-mouthed.  I guess she interpreted my lack of an intelligible response as hesitancy because she then offered to do them for free if I'd just let her do them.  True story.  I decided my best approach would be to not dwell on it too much and just be glad for the bargain.

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We have been dealing with some nighttime issues at our house.  Sam has always been a good sleeper.  In fact, I've been pretty reluctant to even talk about it much here for fear that the baby gods would punish me.  I guess you could say we did a mild (VERY MILD) form of sleep training, but for the most part, we just got lucky.  At bedtime, we read a story (or four), then we go through our little routine and we put Sam in his bed.  He will often sit up in his bed and play for over an hour before going to sleep, but it's almost as if he's as ready for some down time as we are.  But lately he hasn't been wanting to stay in his room.  He doesn't really protest much when we put him down but 5 to 10 minutes after we say goodnight he's crying inconsolably.  We have tried every trick we can think of.  He has night lights.  He has one of those musical light projector things.  We leave a lamp on for him.  We have started getting ready for bed earlier so he has more time to wind down.  We've decided it's not that he's ready to do away with a nap.  Thank goodness!  Momma kinda still needs his nap time!  Monday night, after our third attempt at bedtime, Shawn moved Molly's bed into Sam's room.  We didn't hear a peep out of either of them for the rest of the night.  I think we might have found a winning combination. 

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We visited Shawn's family last weekend.  As per our usual travel schedule, we left the house approximately 2 hours AFTER we had planned.  I swear, I don't know what it is, but we can NEVER leave when we think we're going to.  Someone spills something, Sydney decides she needs an extra feeding, the dog makes a mess---SOMETHING!  As per my usual reaction, I was a little bit grouchy and anxious because we were already behind schedule.  (Keep in mind that we really had no schedule other than the one we had made so it wasn't really that big of a deal---I was just being difficult.)  When we got ready to get on the parkway, there were emergency vehicles blocking the exit and detouring people around.  We figured it was just construction work or something and decided to just get on at the next opportunity.  However, at that next ramp, there was YET ANOTHER policeman blocking the way.  We later learned that there had been a four-car pile-up on the parkway with at least one fatality and it was taking a while to process the accident.  And then I felt really bad for being grouchy and snipey because we probably would have been coming through there around the same time if we had been "on time."  And instead of being in a wreck, I got to see parts of Kentucky that I had never seen.  The kids got a good nap, and Shawn and I enjoyed some rare, uninterrupted conversation.  Win-win. 

But, seriously, does anyone have any tips for getting out the door in a reasonable fashion when traveling with little ones???  'Cause we stink at it. 

Proud Momma

Last weekend, my family and some friends from work visited a local nursing home to bring some Christmas cheer to a few of its residents.  From the moment we decided to go, I knew I wanted my kids to go too.  Sure, it would've been easier to leave two small children at home, but it was important to me for a couple of reasons.  First, kids are almost ALWAYS a hit with older folks. I rarely see an elderly person whose face does not light up when they see a child. So I figured the residents would enjoy visiting with my kids.

Also, I'm not good at small talk. I'm just not. Shawn, on the other hand, can talk to a tree stump, but I often find it difficult to talk with someone that I don't know. I usually end up standing there thinking, "Say something!  Say anything!  Anything is better than this awkward silence!"  Nothing spells Christmas cheer like that weird lull in a conversation.  But I can always talk about my kids.  There is usually some cute or funny story right on the tip of my tongue just begging to be told.  So I took them to give me a little bit of a security blanket.  Just keepin' it real, here, people.

But mostly, I just want to introduce them to doing nice things for other people at a young age.  It's important to me that they know that there are others out there who are less fortunate than they are.  I want them to have giving and loving hearts, and I think that is a trait that is learned. 

I was a little concerned about how it was all going to go.  Sam has a tendency to be a little bashful around strangers.  Our scheduled visit time was right smack in the middle of nap time.  And just before we walked in, Sydney pulled her "you're-not-my-mom-so-I'm-going-to-scream-bloody-murder" routine when my friend Tina spoke to her.  Not held her---SPOKE to her.  My little diva!  It was not looking good for the home team. 

Let me just say right now that my kids TOTALLY got it.

We were standing in the entryway trying to get our whereabouts and figure out where we were going, and two ladies were at the end of the hallway sitting in their wheelchairs.  Sam just marched right up to them and showed them his Pooh bear.  Then he started playing peek-a-boo with them.  Sydney decided all of the residents were at least as cool as Mom, and she flashed them all her big grin.  One of the ladies was so delighted when Sydney grabbed her finger and wouldn't let go.  She had on a really cool bracelet with jingle bells that my girl was just fascinated with.  Sam assisted a few people with opening their Christmas presents, and he passed out a hug or two. 

I honestly couldn't dwell on it for too long while we were there because I was afraid I would start blubbering like an idiot.  Even now, I'm tearing up just writing about it.  But later when I had a minute to process it, I was overcome with pride.  I was so. proud. of my kids.  It's like they both just sensed that these were people who needed a little love.  And, to the best of their ability, they freely gave it.  I mean, c'mon, Sam even let a couple of ladies HOLD Pooh!  It doesn't get any more generous than that, my friends. 

Here's hoping I can take a lesson from my kids this Christmas and see the people who need to be seen. 

Cookie-Palooza

I have a personal rule that there can be no Christmas celebrating until after Thanksgiving.  It's just a thing with me.  No decorating, no Christmas music, no present wrapping.  This would, obviously, include cookie-decorating.  But I couldn't miss such a perfect opportunity to decorate Christmas cookies with the kiddos when they were already at my house for Thanksgiving anyway.  So as soon as the dishes from our Thanksgiving meal were cleaned up, I officially declared it Christmas season, and we started decorating Christmas cookies. 

 

To keep things simple, I just bought a couple of rolls of premade cookie dough, white cake frosting (in the can), and some red and green frosting in the little squirty tubes.  Oh...and sprinkles.  The mega jar of sprinkles.  Turns out that was by far the decorative tool of choice.

 

P.S.  Have you seen the Pillsbury peppermint sugar cookie dough?  If you do not try it, you are doing yourself a grave disservice.

 

Let me just say that was TOTALLY the way to go.  In a few years, we might try to make cookie dough, roll it out, cut out shapes and do fancy-pants designs on them.  But this year was all about simple, messy fun.  Slice, bake, and cool---then throw some sugar out there and watch the kids go to town!

 

Izzy was eager to get started.

I don't even want to think about how much sugar Sam consumed during the cookie decorating fun.  There were a couple of times that I caught him with the frosting-squirty-thing in his mouth squeezing for all he was worth.  Awesome.

 

 

Even the older boys got in on the action.

 

Elli was, by far, the most serious about her cookies.  I have to say, her Christmas trees looked pretty good.

 

For those of you that know my sister, how much does Will look like her in this picture?

 

And this one?  Is this not the same expression that she made in ALL of her childhood photos???  He reminds me of her in so many ways.

The sprinkles were a huge hit.  Note to self:  never run out of sprinkles.

 

Oops!  Busted with the icing.  Quick, throw it down before Mom yells at you.

 

At one point in the cookie-baking process I lost track of Sam. I wasn't too worried about it---I just figured he was playing in our bedroom. I peeked in to check on him and couldn't find him. After a quick scan of the rest of the house, I started getting a little concerned. He was nowhere to be found. Even though I KNEW he couldn't possibly have gone outside, I opened the garage door anyway. And there he was. Barefooted, no jacket, 30 degrees outside. He cried when I made him come inside. We started asking around to figure out how he got outside.  Nobody ever actually fessed up to it, but Shawn did hear Drew muttering under his breath, "Well, he kept asking to go outside..."  Stinker!

Sam's cookies.  A culinary work of art if I ever saw one!

 

A new after-Thanksgiving-dinner family tradition?  I think so.

 

On another note, I'm just noticing how blurry my pictures are.  Time to check the settings on my camera.  Methinks a little boy might have adjusted them a bit...

 

Thanksgiving

We did celebrate Thanksgiving at my house.  I promise we did.  Not that I have any real pictures to prove it.  We did, however, have a really nice visit with some family we don't get to see nearly often enough.  And my sister brought a fun Thanksgiving craft for us to work on. 

 

 

We almost missed out on the photo op for this, too, because Aunt Joe was not on her A game.  Then after I snapped a few pictures, I apparently laid my camera down somewhere and couldn't find it for a while.  (I'm always doing that.)  I finally located it only after asking my nephew where it was.  He knew, not because he had stolen it, but because he apparently is the designated Lost Thing Finder in their house.  Whenever anyone loses something they just ask Drew and he usually knows where it is.  He just waits for you to consult him. 

We decided after doing all of the big kids' hands that it just WOULD. NOT. work to do the babies that way.  We didn't figure we'd ever get them to keep their fingers spread apart long enough to paint them different colors.  So what did we do?  Why, we consulted Pinterest, of course!  We found an idea that we thought would be simpler---so instead of painting their hands we ended up painting their hands AND their feet.  Yes...definitely much easier. 

After it was all said and done, we ended up getting hand (and/or feet) prints for 8 kids...which included 2 infants.  And I even think we managed to do it without getting paint on any clothes or in any mouths.  (Although the same cannot be said for Sydney's hair.)  And I'm pretty sure we did it with minimal crying.  Are we talented, or what???

I still have to go back and put eyes and a mouth on mine, add the kids' names and write "Mom's Turkeys" to the bottom, but next year I will have a VERY CUTE apron to wear when I'm getting the turkey ready. 

Dear Sydney,

You turned 5 months old a few days ago.  Why am I just now getting this letter typed?  Well, Baby Girl, it's like this:  Your mom TOTALLY does not have it all together.  And lately, I'm finding that I have even less of it together than ever before.  The Christmas season always makes me feel a little scattered and hectic, but this year I feel especially forgetful.  Someone told me not long ago that it's a scientifically proven fact that a woman loses brain function with every pregnancy.  I'm not sure if it's true or not---I'm not sure I really even want to know.  But based on personal experience I could totally buy it.

Every day I am amazed at your sweet personality.  I know I've said this before, but you really smile with your entire face.  I love watching your chubby cheeks get all squishy and the way your eyes crinkle together.  You also snort a little when your smiling.  It's not really a full-out laugh...more of a laugh preview.  You smile to greet people and give your little snort-chuckle, then bury your head into the neck of whomever is holding you.  I love it. 

You have developed a little bit of stranger anxiety this month.  And by "stranger anxiety" I mean "anyone-who-is-not-Mom anxiety."  It's the weirdest thing.  You can be all happy and smiley one second, then it's like you suddenly realize that the person holding you is not Mom.  Your bottom lip pooches out, the crocodile tears start flowing, and you give the most pitiful wail.  Then as soon as you're in Mom's arms again, all is well.  (It's actually pretty impressive to see how quickly the red can drain out of your face.)  You have this really funny way of looking back over my shoulder at the person who was previously holding you and giving this little grin.  "Ha!  I got EXACTLY what I wanted."

You are getting much better at grabbing things.  When we hold your toys in front of you, you reach out with both hands to grab them.  I love watching you concentrate as you try to maneuver your fingers around the object then direct it straight to your mouth.  You still drop things pretty frequently, but that's okay...you've taught your brother how to fetch.  He loves getting "Nene's toys" and giving them back to you.  You're also starting to reach for people when you want to be picked up.  It absolutely warms my heart every time you smile at me and lift your arms so I can hold you.

I thought I would tell you about your name.  I fretted and fretted over your name.  But when I look at you now, there's no way I could call you anything but Sydney.  It just suits you.  Your middle name, Carol, has special meaning.  I had an aunt who, I'm pretty convinced, was one of God's angels on Earth.  You share her middle name.  She passed away when I was in high school, and someone read Proverbs 31 at her funeral.  That was the first time I had paid particular attention to that passage, but it resonated with me.   When I picture a Proverbs 31 woman, I picture her.  It's what I aspire to be.  It's my hope for you--that you would find a husband who values you more than jewels; that you would be bold and confident in whatever you do; that you would be wise and well respected; that you would help those less fortunate than you; that your children, should you have them, will be a blessing to you. 

My Sydney, I cannot tell you what a blessing you are to me.  When you greet me with your sweet babbling every morning, it just makes me smile.  I love your voluminous thighs.  I love watching you laugh at your brother.  I love how you bonk yourself in the mouth with a toy then look at me accusingly.  I love how your little head seems to fit perfectly right under my right ear.  You, my sweet Sydney, are more precious than rubies.

Mommy