Don't let the thought cross your mind

A few weeks back when Anderson had a cough I thought (and actually said out loud- double jinx!!!) how fortunate I was that it wasn't ear infection. The next day he had an infection in both ears. A few nights later I accidentally let myself think about the fact that Beck had been sleeping through the night for a few days straight. Up nearly every night since. Then I let the thought rest in my mind for no more than a millisecond that Anderson hadn't wet the bed in weeks. He then wet the bed every night (and mine, too) for more than a week.

Fast forward to last week when I actually allowed myself to not only think about, but to also plan the oh-so-many things I was going to accomplish during my week off. Needless to say not one was crossed off. Of course. And all because both of my kids were finally healthy at the same time for the first time in as long as I could remember and I thought about it, allowed myself to become happy about it even. And then Beck got sick. The sickest ever- ear infection, fever, cough, crying, screaming, miserable for days and still suffering over a week later. And the only thing worse than one sick kid is two and because I actually felt fortunate for a minute- it then happened. Anderson came down with croup. Again. For like the fifth time since September. 2 trips to the doctor's office, at least 5 sleepless nights, and about 15 mL of antibiotic repeatedly spit right on my face (thank you, Beck) superseded any plans I was crazy enough to even consider. My Monday morning 5am alarm for work could not have come any faster. The one and only upside- lots and lots of cuddles and mommy naps from my sickies. But of course I now have a cough, soar throat, and no voice. Because, well, I thought about it.

Tell me

It's not that I didn't know something was wrong, it's just that I didn't want to be that mom. The one who is over-bearing, over-protective, and over-worried about every little thing her kids do or do not do at certain ages. But I knew. I knew that at two years old Beck should have been speaking and I knew that he was behind. But still I waited. By two and nearly a half it had been long enough. After countless evaluations by his doctor, therapists, and social workers it was determined that Beck had a "severe" speech delay, with (thank God) no other developmental delays observed. News we could totally handle. It has been a many-months long process including state, private, and school district services, but we are finally seeing some real progress. Whereas just 4 months ago he had a vocabulary of just 8 comprehensible words (when 250+ is considered "normal") he now uses more words than we can even count. What we can understand, well, that is still far from normal, but there are words just the same. With twice weekly private therapy sessions and an upcoming evaluation through the school district in which an IEP will be put in place and services provided at a local elementary school, we hope to find him well within the "normal" range within the next year. Boy do we love this little guy. And now he can tell us he loves us, too. :)

Mad

"Daddy, I'm mad at mommy!"
It was 5:15 am and almost too early to care, but I did. I do. Telling us he is angry or upset or sad is nothing new, but expressing anger specifically at me? Well, I guess it's a sign he is growing up faster than I can even fathom. How quickly these entirely dependent, emotionally immature little creatures grow into their own independent, free-thinking little selves capable of not only experiencing, but identifying a whole range of emotions far beyond the "I'm sad" and "I'm mad" of toddlerdom. Here we go...

Oh, and the reason for the anger? He wanted me to read to him at 5:15 am. In the dark. While I was asleep. And while I am sure every other mother in the universe would have joyfully sprung up and put on their best children's librarian voice to really bring life to the iPad story of how dinosaurs came to their ultimate demise before the sun was even considering rising, I simply did not want to. And I faked it. And that, to an almost 4 year old, is infuriating. He stomped off and told me he was "getting out of here", to which I may or may not have replied (under my breath, of course) "good, just let me sleep".

Out with the tide

Last Monday, after a rough morning, we loaded the boys up and headed down the coast to get our minds off of things. After a nice lunch in Coron del Mar albeit a tad stressful as small restaurants with rambunctious boys can be we made our way to the tide pools in Laguna Beach. The chill in the air made for one of those great days where you go to the beach for less than an hour, kick off your shoes, and simply roll up your pants. In retrospect, maybe a towel or an extra pair of pants for the boys would have been nice. Though Anderson in his undies is still one of the cutest things I have ever seen so it really was no big deal.

Oh, to be bored

Classes to teach, mounds of papers to grade, college recommendations to write, children to entertain, dinner to cook, an anniversary party to plan, a cold to nurse, and a house to tend all have me feeling spread a bit thin. Not so thin that we couldn't make another trip to the pumpkin patch, however. Aww, pumpkins.

A patch of pumpkins

I have a million and a half things to do, but I am a procrastinator in the worst way and would much rather look at pictures of this weekend. The first pumpkin patch visit of the season because everybody goes at least three times, right? is always the most exciting. This year things were just as they always are except the boys were a little older and the lines were a little longer. The petting zoo was a hit, the choo choo a must, and the obligatory photo amongst the pumpkins a bit of a joke. But we did almost witness Anderson slide down the giant slide that he so desperately thinks he wants to go on. This year he actually made it all the way to the top before looking down and realizing that the big slide is, in fact, very, very big. Once again our sweet boy needed to be rescued by a worker who I am pretty sure was the same guy who rescued him last year. Oh, Anderson, you are just like your mama. Two feet firmly on the ground sure is a nice feeling.

Hugs, Giggles, and Joe Joes

Oh, these two. They drive me completely nuts and make me want to pull my hair out, but they really are the best. We are finally entering a stage where they can interact and actually play together. They still poke, pinch, and hit each other, but in between all of that they also hug, wrestle, and laugh together. They even share their Halloween Joe Joes (and clearly have the chocolate cookie mouths to prove it).

Sleepy

On Thursday morning Beck decided that 3:53 am was just as good an hour as any to wake up and start the day. Anderson wasn't too far behind him at 5:15 due to some over zealous squeals as Beck and Gabe played downstairs. All of this probably would have been fine as my alarm goes off at 5 am every day to get up and ready for work, but of course this was one of only a few late start days where I didn't have to be up until 5:45, 6 if I were feeling particularly sleepy. Needless to say Beck was already down for his first nap before I left the house at 6 am.

On Thursday night Anderson snuck into our bed around 11:45. Seems his feet were cold and he has yet to understand that pulling up the covers is an easy fix. Though Gabe hadn't even come up yet I was quickly relegated to an 18 inch edge or my should-be-large-enough-for-2 king size bed. He stayed all night and miraculously stayed asleep but I woke up with a crick in my neck that is still lingering 4 days later. A good mom always gives her babies the good pillows, right?

Friday night I was so excited to go to bed I could hardly stand it. But somewhere around 8 pm Beck began to fuss and ultimately cry and could not be quieted for more than a few minutes at a time. This went on for hours. Hours. I tried to let him cry it out as it seemed that he only wanted attention because the second we picked him up he would fall asleep. Being the terrible mother I am I finally turned the monitor off sometime after 10. I was too tired. At 2:30 I was awoken by Gabe holding Baby Beck who had apparently been awake since I tuned him out. Mother of the year? He was inconsolable but finally gave into little stretches of sleep snuggled up in between us. He awoke often for the rest of the night, but at least we were in bed and he was sleeping peacefully when he was, in fact, asleep. Clearly something was wrong, but there was nothing we could see, hear, or feel. Turns out he had a cold by mid-morning yesterday and must have just been feeling miserable. I assume he wanted to sleep while being held because he probably had pressure in his little head that was compounded when lying down. Poor guy.

Sleep or lack thereof is not something I usually complain about, but those few nights in a row made for one grumpy mama. Thankfully once we had things all figured out and were able to get everyone the correct amount of covers, potions, and elixirs we got a long night of sleep last night. Both kids even slept in which is so, so rare.

It's such a guessing game, parenthood is. So often it is a matter of trying to rule out and piece things together in an effort to understand why things have suddenly changed or been interrupted. Sometimes my hunches are right, but most of the time I feel I am just taking a shot in the dark. Maybe sometimes there is no reason at all for certain disruptions to their normal routines. Who knows. When in doubt, however, I always blame teeth. Because that seems to be what every other mom uses to explain away undesirable behaviors, right?

That picture was most definitely NOT taken this past weekend, but rather one summer day when sleep was all that Beck wanted to do.

One more

I found this on my camera from last week and it made me laugh. Guilty broccoli face.

The Grouchies

There is no doubt in my mind that as soon as I write this a temper tantrum will arise, but one thing I know about having little kids is that it's all about celebrating the little things- the fleeting moments and the small victories that occur on a daily basis that somehow encourage within us a strength to keep on going even when things are rough.

It seems that Anderson has been suffering from a fairly severe case of the grouchies lately, not unlike the boy in the book. Have we read it one too many times, perhaps?!  It could be the fairly new school schedule, the relentless heat, or the fact that he wakes up at an ungodly hour but whatever it is it seemingly consumes him somewhere around 12:30 in the afternoon, just as I walk in the door from work. It begins with cries for me to "go away", "I only like Daddy", etc. and continues with a nasty attitude, attempts to smack anything in sight and inevitably quite a few tears. Fortunately this little episode does not last for all that long and I can usually bring it down to normal by working my magic to "just get get the grouchies out, Mommy!", but it takes its toll. I have been sad, tired, and just plain grumpy myself after dealing with this on a daily basis. Couple this with an 18 month old who needs constant attention and I am spent. Even after it is over and I get a kiss and a "Don't worry, Mommy, I'm all done. The grouchies are gone now" I am somehow still able to shake it and come back to 100%.

But as depressing as those afternoons were last week, this little guy has been incredibly loving, snuggling, and cooperative for the last few days. Unexpected kisses, an incessant giggle, and the sweetest words have brought me back. I am so happy and so in love with my little boys. Sometimes a hug is all the affirmation you need that you are not as bad a mama as you lead yourself to believe.

Good Day

The weekends are a bit crazy around here as Saturday is the only day of the week we are all home as a family. It is often spent cleaning, running errands, and just trying to get organized after the busy week. This Saturday was no exception as I had about 18 projects that I was hoping to get accomplished, but as Gabe reminded me "it's family day". And so on a family adventure we went.

We started at the Orange County Zoo which I just love. It is small, very clean, and easy to to lap around in under an hour.

We groomed some goats,

saw some bears,

watched some beavers,

and measured our wing span (again).

I even tried to get in a picture, though this is as good as it got.

It was a short trip (we were there only about an hour), but probably more fun for that very reason.

 

We skipped lunch Pretzels are good enough, right? This is family day! and went out on a mission to cure my gelato craving. Seriously, enough with this heat already. As deliciousness comes at a price ($4 a scoop, to be exact) we had to share.

And somebody wanted more than their fair share. I believe there was shrieking as I threw the cup away. Oh, Beck, I'm afraid you and I are far too much alike.

We wandered into the sunglasses shop where Anderson quickly got in trouble for putting on every pair of glasses in sight and was banned to the stroller. So I did what any insane mother would do and I gave him my way too expensive for little kids to play with camera and let him take pictures. I giggled as I uploaded them thinking about what he saw and what he attempted to photograph. Needless to say there were about 100 shots of Beck's attached stroller seat and about 50 pictures of random people and fuzzy lighting fixtures. At least I know he appreciates succulents as much as I do.

 

All of this and we were still home by 2:30, made a trip to Michaels for some spooky decorations and came home and glittered up some skeleton bones.

The day ended as most Saturdays do around here- kids in bed at 6 and then a whole evening of Thai take-out, Mad Men, and yes, even more ice cream. I have a problem, I tell you.

 

Days like this serve to remind me of just how nice it can be to give up the plans and just get out together. Sometimes the most unexpected adventures are the very best.

Snack food

The night before this happened the dinner conversation went something like this:
me: "Anderson, no more lettuce until you eat your spaghetti."
Anderson: "I love lettuce! I don't want any more spaghetti, just lettuce!"

A vegetable lover, who would have thought? I actually really love vegetables but who would have thought a three year old would as well? I'm not complaining. Though I did once threaten to take his spinach away if he didn't eat his pizza. What?! When he begged to eat this crown of broccoli as his pre-dinner snack it just seemed wrong to deny him so off he went, broccoli in hand to munch away. And munch he did. He ate that thing down to less than half its original size. Good boy. And because this is my journal and I can write whatever I please I am going to choose not to go into the fact that the next day he consumed nearly his weight in candy and junk food. Because "broccoli boy" makes me look like a much better mom.