The end of '08

Christmas Eve, 2008. Luke 22 months, Julia 9 mos.
Longwood Gardens, Nov 2008
Kisses from Luke to Jules in our freakish pre Thanksgiving week snowstorm
The Phillies win the World Series. (THE PHILLIES WIN THE WORLD SERIES!!!)

Nate par's17 at Sawgrass (I don't) :)

Julia gets baptized

Julia, 2 weeks old
Julia, 2 hours old

Luke, loving on his unborn sister

These pics may be a little mixed up in order, but in the 10 minutes Nate gave me to blog they were the ones which I felt (quickly) summed up my memories of our year. I am again sitting home, with my husband, with my kid (s) on New Years Eve. This marks our fourth year in a row of staying in.......and I love it. The whole babysitter/prepare pumped milk/driving with the crazies or else get a hotel room/party thing just is not for us at this particular juncture in our lives. The kids are in bed, we again went to the Farmers Market in Sub Sq to purchase another feast of food, and another year has passed. I had to look back at last years post, from this same night, which is here http://natesbear.blogspot.com/2007/12/end-of-07.html. (For the record, this whole link stuff is clearly totally beyond me....I try, and try again, and it still does not work).

It's New Years Eve, 2008. My sweet Julia Elise has joined our family. Luke is an utter joy. We celebrated our son's first birthday, had a VBAC, Jules has been nursing for almost 10 months now, created great memories on the beach this summer, Nate and I played Sawgrass, had countless Zoo/Park/Museum trips, our children are healthy, Nate and I still love each other (even more), our parents and siblings and nieces and nephews are healthy and happy, we welcomed a new member to our family (Rich) with an engagement, and another (Samantha) with a birth. It has been a wonderful year. There have been trials along the way. There have been losses. There has been pain and mourning and sorrow.........

But as I look forward to 2009, I count my blessings. I am so thankful for our families, for our/my friends, and for our health. I am grateful for our country, and hope for positive change in 2009.
There is much to eat and much to celebrate, tonight. I feel no sense of sadness like I did last NY's. I don't mourn the passing of my daughters birth year ~ as I know what is to come. I savor each day of learning just who these children of mine are, of seeing their personalities grow and shape, and of getting to love the people that they are becoming.

As Luke says, "Happy Nu Nus!" Thank all who read this or who love us for making our world a better place. We love you.

Moh

Welcome Samantha Mary!

I am thrilled to say that my very first niece (on my side) was born today. Samantha Mary D. was born this morning, and being in the waiting room as my brother walked in and announced "it's a girl!" was one of the most exciting moments of my life. She is beautiful, and healthy, and perfect.

I already have visions of our daughters running around the beach house with dolls, and dress up, and all other sorts of insanity in years to come. I hope that they become the best of friends.

You and Alexis are going to be fantastic parents. We can't wait to get to know this new sweet little member of our family.

Welcome to the world, little Sam. We waited an entire 41 weeks to meet you, and we love you already.

Hey Diddle Diddle

Some of the best gifts that my kids got this Christmas were books. Anyone who knows me is aware of my love of books, and one of my most fervent wishes for my children is that I somehow manage to pass along my love of reading to them.

Before I comment on this one particular book that we got, I have to say that I love the book and we have read it for the past three nights. That said........it's a book of nursery rhymes. They all bring me back to my childhood........my Mom loved to read to me, and often turned to the Mother Goose-ish classics. They are all lodged somewhere in a foggy little portion of my brain, and this book is causing me to dust off some memories of baked blackbirds and Mother Hubbard's that I had long since forgotten.

Has anyone else read any of the classic nursery rhymes lately? Like, as an adult?

"And the dish ran away with the spoon"

* What a little trollop! This entire nursery rhyme is wonderfully nonsensical,and it ends with a tabletop elopement! I love Hey Diddle Diddle!

"The King of Hearts Called for the tarts and BEAT the Knave FULL SORE"

*The Knave ends this one by vowing to steal no more ~ who wouldn't after being beaten full sore?! ? I don't even know for sure what full sore means, but I am guessing that it's modern day equivalent is a "beat down". A full beat down by some rich fat King on some poor little servant boy over some tarts! "The Queen of Hearts" is full of crime and violence, and only about 10 short sentences long. (The funny thing about this one is that Luke pointed to the Queen and said "Mama", then pointed to the King and said "Danta!, which means Santa. Me and Danta getting down and dirty on some Knave over some tarts! Imagine it!".)

"Down will come baby, cradle and all"

*Um, the baby falls out of a tree. Falls! The bough breaks! Down goes baby! And this (Rock-a-Bye Baby) is likely our cultures most well known nursery rhyme. How utterly bizarre. Stupid wind.

"And so the poor Dog had none"

*None, in this case, referring to food. Poor Old Mother Hubbard and her bare cupboards! Her poor dog! Where the heck are Old Mother Hubbard's children? Why isn't she being taken care of? Whats to become of the Dog?

"Stuck a feather in his hat and called it macaroni"

*What is up with the Yankee Doodle anyway? Surely the feather did not resemble macaroni, did it? Was the Doodle a man of great creativity? An artist perhaps? Is macaroni the only word that rhymes with pony?

"Jack fell down and broke his crown, and Jill came tumbling after"

*Jack got a busted head just trying to get some water! Quite the antithesis of the "Little engine that could". And I'm most curious about why Jill went tumbling after.....was it a Princess Bride sort of throw oneself down the hill after hapless man thing? Why didn't Jill continue on without her clumsy Jack and fetch the water herself? Perhaps the hill was really a precarious cliff? Why would a well be perched atop such a dangerous hill? Totally confused.

"Humpty Dumpty"

*Enough said. He jumped. He died. Yet in the books he is always pictured sitting all round and jolly atop the wall ~ PRE fall. Poor Humpty. What a mess he must have made.

"Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie"

* What a large pie it must have been ! And those darling, freedom loving birds! I know that they came out singing and all, but still, it's funny that "Sing a song of Sixpence" is a vague introduction to our children to the idea that many of those cute and cuddly little animals that we talk about in our picture books ultimately end up on our table. I can only imagine how tough and terrible a blackbird would taste. And why would they have baked them with the feathers? Who want's to eat feather?

"She had so many children she didn't know what to do, she gave them some broth without any bread, then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed"

*Someone call CPS! And where the heck is the old man for Pete's sake? Surely there must be an old man in the picture if she keeps churning out children? What a horrible story. The poor abused family who lives in a lousy old shoe! Can you even imagine the stench of an entire so-many-children-ed family living in a stinking SHOE without any bread? And the cacophony of the whippings of so many children? What a terrible place to live.

"There I met an old man who would not say his prayers, I took him by the left leg and threw him down the stairs"

*How utterly terrible! An Elder Abuser! Pray for yourself you horrid stair throwing person in Goosey Goosey Gander!

Anyway. I love the book. I love reading the stories, the pictures are fantastic and 3-d and much loved by Luke. The rhymes, the rhythm, the cadence, the whole bit. I was just a bit taken aback as I read some of these things as an adult.

In today's PC world of feel good about yourself, everyone is a winner, no one is ever wrong, everyone loves you, you are perfect sort of children's books..........I have to admit that some old school nursery rhyme ass kicking was a bit refreshing to me.

Merry Christmas!

Nate got a special, well earned present ~ Shatterproof Christmas Ornaments. Go ahead tree ~ mess with us NOW.

Santa brought home a new sleigh yesterday. Big enough to fit all the reindeer AND the big jolly guy too.


Julia gets a Cabbage patch baby......her name (according to her Cabbage Patch birth certificate) is Laquita Janelle. Probably not what we might have chosen.......but a lovely name nonetheless.

He's a baller. His eyes lit up when he saw his new basketball hoop and he spent the morning slam dunking.

Presents are exhausting. Thank goodness for loving Godmothers to cuddle up to.

Luke and Jules playing around in their Christmas PJ's before bed

Daddy taking Luke up to bed on Christmas Eve

Yesterday started off horribly. My poor baby girl woke up covered in every sort of crusty stuff imaginable, a terrible cough, and a 103 fever. Off to the Dr's we went at 8.30 am......to find that sweet Santa had gifted Julia a double ear infection and a viral infection. The good news was that it did not appear to be RSV, and we were able to start her on antibiotics right away. That just threw off our whole Christmas ~ The Dr advised us to not take her to my in laws tomorrow where Nate's entire family would be gathering, as there would be a lot of other small kids there. My heart broke. I so wanted to see my nieces and nephews, and my in laws, and see my kids playing with their cousins. I came home desolate, and facing a day of baking with a sick baby. Then Nate bought us a new car.......which didn't fit in the garage. So I was heartbroken, Jules was sick, Nate was miserable.......you get the idea. I had two pies to make from scratch, breakfast for 8 to host this morning, and presents to wrap. It was a pretty awful and stressful afternoon, and I had a healthy dose of bah humbug. Tears were shed.

By the time the kids went to bed, the pies were made, the breakfast prepped, the garage rearranged so that the new car fit, Nate and I had ordered a delicious dinner, and we sat in our dining room and ate by candlelight. It felt like our own little Christmas miracle ~ simply surviving the day felt a bit of a miracle, truth be told. We wrapped presents together, and stayed up too late being excited about our kids morning and feeling overwhelmed with gratitude for the year behind us, and all that lies ahead. Julia slept through the night, and woke up still sick, but clearly on the mend, happy and less feverish.

More on Christmas later as this mid day utopia of coinciding naps just got shattered by the cry that I heard from upstairs. There are baths to be had and Christmas outfits to be put on.

I hope that everyone who reads this had a wonderful Christmas/Solstice/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/Festivus/Winter Holiday/Thursday. Whatever you celebrate, enjoy every moment.

Love to all of you from Nate, Luke, Julia and I.

Holidays and Haircuts

Continuing on the hair theme from my last post, Luke got his first official haircut today. I had trimmed it a couple of times, but as the back was so much longer than the front it was starting to get rather page -boyish (ugh), so I had to get that taken care of. Luke was hilarious, no yelling, no fear, no worries as he hopped up into the chair and took his haircut like a little man. He was so serious as he watched the hairdresser cutting away in the mirror. I was surprised at how unsentimental I was about the whole thing ~ perhaps as he really still does not have all that much hair even at 22 months it's not like it was radically altering his look.

Last night was our used-to-be whole-family-7-fish-dinner-turned-pizza-night. It was wonderful to get to spend an evening with my extended family....And I loved seeing Luke and Julia interact with Ben and to get to meet sweet little Tyler. Pete and Lex are now two days overdue and we are all waiting anxiously to celebrate the birth of their first baby, and my kids first first cousin on my side of the family. Tomorrow night is our new, smaller 7 fish dinner. I am feeling a little overwhelmed all of a sudden. We really kept the whole gift thing simple this year ~ It's just the sudden realization of several meals/desserts that I have to make coupled with a few last minute crafty type gift things that I am working on.....and kids who BOTH woke up sick with colds this morning. Even trying hard to keep things simple, things just seem to never truly be simple with a bagillion holiday parties/obligations/celebrations/commitments/and two very young children.

I need to work hard tomorrow to get myself together so that I can actually enjoy Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with a minimum of stress. I feel as though this Christmas really crept up on me too quickly.

Did I mention that our dog has mange? Literally, our dog has mange. Our mangy mutt. He had been itching with ever increasing intensity over the past couple of weeks. We took him to the vet, assuming that it was food allergies, and the first question that she asked was "Do you live in an area with a lot of foxes?". Yup. And dogs can get mange from a fox from merely running through the same bushes as foxes do (we learned) . Fun times. Luckily with some steroids, antibiotics and the like he is already about a million times better, and none the worse for the episode. Now armed with a skunk attack and a bout of mange under our belts.....what's next for Mulligan? A deer trampling? Snake bite? Stay tuned.

Mullet Mania

Well, Jules had a successful 9 month well baby visit today on her 9 month "birthday". She is at 80% for height (or is it length? When does length go to height? What is the difference, anyhow? Am I actually 5'2 long?) 70% for weight, and in the 96% with your big ole M family noggin. If you keep going up in head circumference percentage and down in weight percentage you will soon resemble a lolly pop!

She had her anemia/iron test........which is sometimes an issue with breastfed babies, and her iron was stellar, which made me happy. I have a total crush on our Dr. ~ She is kind, and wise, and so so supportive and generous and encouraging. We have been seeing her for all of our well baby visits for the past year, and I just love her manner. She is so supportive of the fact that we are still only nursing, and she has respected all of the parenting decisions that we have chosen thus far. Julia was a bit of a show off using her words ~ Da Da, Ma Ma, uh oh and night night. I think that I officially have a chatty girl on my hands (and I cant even BEGIN to imagine where she might get that from?).

In other news.........Jules officially has a mullet. From the back ~ She is a baby with hair. Pretty hair! From the front? Not so much. She it totally bald from the front, other than a triangular-sometimes-sticking-straight-up faux hawk patch of top of head hair. I'm rather taken with it, as only a mother could be.

Feeling Festive

I can't believe that my second crazy little critter will be 9 months old tomorrow. This is her at our playgroup holiday extravaganza on Wednesday. It shocks me that it was already 9 months ago tonight that I went to bed ~ disheartened from my OB appointment that day ~ and woke up thrilled to find myself in labor. 9 months ago tomorrow, our daughter was born.

We are in full Christmas swing around here. The tree is (amazingly) still standing, the stockings are hung, the Christmas outfits are bought, and Nate and I went Christmas shopping last night.

I am not a normal woman. I don't like shopping. I really don't. Everything about it annoys me ~ the traffic, getting a babysitter, the piped in Christmas music, the faux cheer, the frazzled sales people, the lines, etc etc. The whole "get Julia a Christmas dress" experience was annoying and stressful. First of all, they make them all short sleeved. Fantastic, if you live in Florida. In PA, not so much. I could make a killing creating a children's holiday dress wear line which actually had seasonally appropriate clothing available. Beyond the clothes....I don't like toys. My kids don't really have that many toys. They are probably officially deprived in the toy department. When Julia will spend 45 minutes playing with a whisk......why on earth buy a toy? I just am not one of those Mom's who gets into toys or gets all excited to buy them. More power to you if you do ~ in no way am I criticizing you, in fact, I am a little jealous of you. I wish that I could get more into it. The garish plastic and lights and bells and whistles and sound effects and stupid battery cases that only can be opened with the teeny tiny stupid little screwdrivers that NEVER can be found. Anyway.

Kids. If you read this someday:

I hope that you never suspected these things about when you were a child. I hope that you never knew that I resented having to get all into Santa, I hope that you never knew that I really disliked toys, and shopping, and I hope that you never knew that I actually wrapped up a whisk for Julia this Christmas. I hope that you didn't know that I considered burning our Christmas tree out of indignation at its refusal to stand up straight and not fall over. I hope that you didn't know that you don't have stockings this year because I have been pregnant with one or the other of you the past two years so didn't get you one ~ and this year I am too cheap to get the stupidly expensive ones that I really want until they go on sale after Christmas. I hope that the fact that I am an utterly terrible singer didn't turn you off to Christmas carols for your whole life. I hope that by the time Christmas starts being magical to you, I am better at the whole thing. I want it to be magical for you. Until then, I feel silly making something that you are totally unaware of magical. I'm either a giant scrooge, or a tremendously practical Mama.

First Crisis?

Last Wednesday I had what I think is my first emotional meltdown of motherhood. There have been plenty of small ones along the way, plenty of postpartum tears and whatnot, but this one really rocked me.

Nate had been away for two days. It had been raining, and miserable. It was cold. We were inside for several straight days. We were playing the 5.30 wake up game. I was feeling tired, and slightly overwhelmed by Christmas Cards, planning, decorating, shopping, cooking, cleaning, and the two small children I am in charge of 24 hours a day when Nate is travelling.

I have goals as a Mother, and goals for how I try to discipline. I try to redirect my busy toddler. I try to not use the word NO all the time. I try to use positive reinforcement. I try to not yell a lot. We don't spank.

I fail to achieve my goals all the time.

Luke just turned 22 months old. Its an awesome age. His language skills are expanding exponentially, and I love hearing new phrases and whole sentences come out of his mouth. He is sweet and cuddly and yet a total blaze of little boy-ness. He also seems to have a biological imperative to touch, climb, or otherwise mess with every.single.thing. that he comes into contact with. Keeping his busy little fingers from touching/grabbing/breaking anything and everything is in and of itself a full time job. Trying to do that while trapped nursing a baby, or cooking dinner, or really doing anything at all is frequently an exercise in frustration, and sometimes involves me using my mean voice (aka yelling).

Last Wednesday was a particularly hard day. There was no playgroup, which I usually look forward to on Wednesdays. It was a long morning. Luke was in a terrible sleep rut, and was waking too early, taking shorter naps, and tired and difficult. I took the kids to the gym around 3.45.

I went to pick them up at 5 so that we could go home and start the insanity that is the dinner/naked time/potty/pajama/bedtime thing. Its an easy thing when Nate is home, but trying to get them both fed and changed and played with, and then to try to nurse Julia and put her to sleep while Luke is doing his whirling dervish routine in the bedroom is simply hard.

Anyway. Our gym's childcare is awesome. They have two giant rooms that the kids play in ~ one only for the older kids filled with a whole two story maze of tunnels and slides. There is coloring, and movies, and tons of toys. There are other kids. I walked in and the girls handed me Julia, who was all smiles. Then they went to grab Luke ~ He looked at me, yelled MAMA! with a big smile, but then instead of running to me like he always does he turned back to his toy and started playing. He didn't want to leave. A girl tried to grab him and he resisted. He started to cry as she brought him over to the door to give him to me. He laid down on the floor and started sucking his thumb. I had Julia in my arms, was trying to get her coat on, trying to get the diaper bag, and the keys, and out the door, and my son was lying on the floor, after crying at the idea of having to go home. I was mortified. I felt so rejected.

I finally got him up and out (by carrying him ~ while he protested vocally). I got both kids in the car, started it up, and burst into tears. I cried the whole way home. I cried when Nate got home that night. Several times.

I know he was tired. I know that he simply wanted to play more. I know that it wasn't a rejection of me, or an indication that I am a terrible mother. Even KNOWING all of those things, my heart hurt.

I started thinking the thoughts that must not be thought.

I started feeling jealous of everyone who comes over and simply plays with Luke for an hour or two ~ his babysitters, his grandparents, his Aunt and Uncle. I felt as though, as a stay at home Mom, I am suddenly nothing other than the person who says NO all the time. I felt like un-fun Mommy. I started thinking terrible, undermining things ~ telling myself that I was surely failing both of my children. That I was not able to give each of them the attention that they deserve. That it would be easier to work in an office all day and have it be someone else who is telling them NO, and then swoop them up for a couple of fun hours before bed. I started to realize that my kids might well not like me much of the time ~ I started to realize that I will be the main person who is giving them rules, giving them chores, and disciplining them.....and that that job ~ while enormously important, could well mean that I am not well liked at times. I really let myself get into it ~ I started thinking about teenagers, and rejection, and hearing "I hate you!" from my sweet sweet babies. I cried a lot.

Nate told me I was nuts. I was tired, Luke was tired, and that's all that it was.

I know that he is right, and our week went uphill from there. I calmed down. Luke started sleeping better. I gave, and got, extra hugs from him. I have picked him up from childcare 3 or 4 times since then, and he has come running to the door with his arms in the air each time. It appears to have been an isolated incident.

Do all Mom's struggle with this? Being the "heavy"? Being the one to do the lions share of the disciplining, and the entertaining (or lack thereof) and the teaching, and the cleaning up, and the non fun errands, while other people play the "hero" role swooping in for non stop fun time? I want more fun time. Just plain old fun time ~

Am I being insane again for feeling this way?

Sunrise

Sunrise from our living room yesterday. Lovely as it may be, I wish that I had not seen it EVERY.SINGLE.DAY this week.

5.30 AM is just a cruel cruel time of day in the winter. I'm not friendly this week.

Santa ~ Game On?

There are lots of things that I should probably think more about as a mother. I don't worry too much about germs, or choking, or reading a ton of books about how to be a better parent. I didn't get into the whole "play Mozart to the baby while in utero" gig, or the Baby Einstein videos. We don't do Gymboree, or Kindermusik, or whatnot. On the other hand, there are lots of things that I probably think too much about as a mother......many of them ridiculous.

Right now, I'm wrestling with the whole Santa thing, and wondering if I am weird for doing so?

Santa is cool. I mean, who doesn't love a big fat jolly man in red? Especially one that arrives laden with gifts? Yet, there is also the little detail of "Santa isn't real". And the other minor detail about how I dislike much of what Christmas has become in America today. And the way that to take any mention of religion or spirituality out of Christmas is no big thing for many people, but the mere mention of taking Santa out of Christmas makes some people actually angry. Am I strange for feeling torn about creating this whole Santa myth for my kids? Am I weird for feeling like its lying to them? I mean, I believe that lying is wrong, but I have already lied to my kids (is it a lie to say that the LOUD.ANNOYING.TERRIBLE toy is broken when in reality the batteries are just dead?) and I will likely lie to them again several (*cough cough*) times in their lives. So why any hang up on the Santa thing?

Luke and Julia went and got their picture taken with Santa last night. Luke seemed totally into it, until it was time to actually sit on the big guys lap. He didn't cry ~ But he made his discomfort clear as he reached out to us with both arms and gave Santa dirty looks. I had actually expected Jules to cry, but she was fine with the whole thing. Luke calmed down after a moment, but only once he determined that Santa was clearly.someone.not.to.be.trusted and decided not to take his eyes off of him. That got Julia looking at him as well (as she is already obsessed with doing whatever her big brother does) and resulted in the photo below. Santa looks right whacked in the pic if you ask me. No wonder Luke was scared of him.

The problem with Santa is that he is so easy. As soon as we left Luke was shouting "Danta!~ Danta!" every time he caught a glimpse of him (which was about 300 times in our 30 minute stint at the mall). It's fun to see your kid getting excited about anything, and I caught myself saying "Santa!~" in that awful high pitched Mommy voice along with him every time that he pointed one out. Later last night, I felt weird about it. Now, I know that Luke isn't even two yet, so getting the whole religious aspect of Christmas into his head is a little tougher than visually identifying the big jolly guy. He isn't likely to point to a creche and scream "Silent Night! Holy Night!". Luke is too young to buy or make or otherwise procure gifts for others in this Christmas season. Luke is too young to get into serving others, or volunteering, or donating. He just doesn't get it at almost 22 months old. But he gets (or at least identifies) Santa. That seems unfair to me.

I guess that this all boils down, to some degree, to my *slight* authority problem. I feel like I have to get all into Santa now that I have kids, and I truly hate feeling like I have to do anything. I really don't want my kids to be those brats who run around the schoolyard making other kids cry by telling them "Santa isn't real". And as my kids are going to go to school, and as I don't think that a 3 or 4 or 5 year old has the emotional maturity to know something and have the wisdom or self discipline to not share it with other kids......I don't know how to not have to tell them that Santa is real, and hop on the proverbial Santa train. Then I worry that I am a weirdo kill joy ~ I mean, its SANTA......the whole world loves Santa, right?

Am I a terrible Mother for not really giving much of a hoot about Santa? Am I weird for even thinking about this? Do I need to take up knitting, or learn another language or something to stop me from wrestling with idiotic issues like this? Do all parents feel like this for a moment? Religious, not religious, whatever do all parents just feel kind of weird, maybe even for just a moment, about lying to their kids about Santa or about who the gifts come from?

Bueller?

Bueller?

Santa, part 1.

LOOK AT SANTA'S FACE!!!

More on the whole Santa thing tomorrow. Much more. But tonight, I'm beat and the allure of the couch is too strong.

Tomorrow Luke is going to his first pre-school scope out with me. Pre-School!?!?!?

Uuuuuuke!

Uuuuuuuke has a new game. He is all about hiding. At first I thought it was a phase of "all about screaming".....but then I realized what was going on.

Luke digs hiding, but digs being found even more. (Maybe we all do?)

He hides behind this bookcase thing most often, usually while I am cooking or doing the dishes.

He creeps into his spot, and starts shouting "Uuuuuuuuke!" at the top of his lungs.

That is my cue to start saying "Where is Luke??? Is Luke in the dishwasher? Is Luke under the coffee pot?". Each question generates a shrill squeal of delight. The more inane the question (Is Luke inside Julia's belly?, Is Luke in my hair?") the more delighted the response.

I love it. I know that he is only 21 months ~ but all of a sudden he feels like a kid. Not a toddler, but a kid. I like kids.

First Fight

Julia and I had our first disagreement last night at dinner.

Julia felt (strongly) that she ought to hold her spoon and feed herself. I felt (equally strongly) that I was the proper one to feed her in hopes of actually getting the food into her body. My way of conveying my feelings was to continue to try to feed her. Her way of conveying her desires was to swing at the spoon, furrow her little brow, and SCREAM.

Julia loves to eat. I swear the child nursed for the first 24 straight hours of her life. Her fervor for nursing has made it easy on both of us. She has taken to solids like a fish to water, and loves to feed herself. Lately I can plunk her in her highchair with a dried papaya spear or a banana and guarantee myself 20 or so minutes of peace ~ or more accurately, I get 20 minutes or so to deal with the mealtime chaos that is Luke. When it comes to food, Julia is rather bossy for an 8 month old. If I dare seat her in her highchair without having food instantly and magically appear in front of her ~ she lets me know it. Daddy pausing too long between bites because he is reading the paper? Yeah, she lets him know it. It's amazing how in 8 months they go from being feeble little things to beings able to convey exactly what it is that they want, and when they want it. We are only two months into the "food" thing but I think that its already time to move her to table food and totally off of purees.

Last night Julia wanted the spoon. Not a little, a lot. I started using my right hand to block her hand as I fed her with my left. That worked for a few bites, but then she refused to open her mouth. The child looked dead straight into my eyes, dodged my blocker hand, grabbed the spoon, and would not let go. We were in a stare down. Not kidding. A flat out stare down with an 8 month old. I pulled on the spoon, she wasn't letting go. I pulled harder. She has a grip of steel. I yanked on it one more time, and the spoon was mine.........but in the process I flung the yogurt that was on it in a 6 foot arc over the kitchen floor. I went on to hand her her own spoon, and continue to feed her with the spoon I had wrested from her grip......but later on as I was on my hands and knees cleaning up the yogurt from the floor, I had to wonder who really won that battle?

Big thanks to my friend Shannon for making the adorable and soft and perfect hat that Julia is wearing in the second picture. Julia finds the long string things the best thing ever.....other than a food covered spoon, of course.

When A tree falls in the Forest.........

You know the rest of that one, right? The whole does it make a noise thing? Personally, I believe that of course it does.

I can also state with 100% certainty that when a tree falls in your living room, it makes a sound also. When it falls twice in your living room, it makes even more noise, and actual curse words too.

Friday we decided to get our Christmas tree. We had grand aspirations ~ we set off to go to the cut your own Christmas tree farm about 40 minutes from our house. Visions of kids prancing around a field of happy trees and picking one out to bring home danced in our heads. Only thing is, Julia can't prance, she can't even walk. And my back was hurting terribly for some unknown reason, which meant that I couldn't carry her in the sling. And Luke has no idea what a Christmas tree even is. And with the whole "fun" ride out to the fields on a wagon/tractor thing thing we couldn't bring the stroller. So.

About 5 minutes into our ride to the farm we passed a tree lot ~ you know the sort that pops up on every corner this time of year selling cut trees? Nate and I both turned to one another at the exact same moment and said "What the heck are we doing?". We turned the car around and let Luke prance around the cut tree laden lot and happily picked out a tree. We can save the whole "cut your own" experience till later. We are getting so practical these days with two young kids. Most days are about survival, not hallmark postcard moments and sugar plum fairies.

That evening Nate put up the tree while I picked up pizza. We got the kids to bed and then proceeded to wrap the tree liberally with lights, and put on the ornaments. I admit that I am a terribly sentimental and sappy person ~ almost every ornament that we have has a story behind it, and the simple act of pulling them out of the boxes usually makes me teary at one point or another. Especially the special, hand painted ones that were made for us by my sister, or the ones that we handpicked for our kids, or the ones from the year that we got married, or that we made ourselves as young children. You get the idea.

We finished. I proudly took a pic or two of our lovely tree (above) while Nate carried popcorn and water's up to our bedroom. We were exhausted. I went to unplug the tree, and it fell over. Crashed over. I screamed. It's a big, 8.5 foot tree. Water, needles, and ornaments went splashing and shattering all over our carpet. Nate came running downstairs sure that I was being attacked by a person, never suspecting that it might be a tree that attacked me. I started crying, and explaining how I didn't do anything, I didn't knock it over or anything, it just fell. I admit, the fact that I was unplugging it did seem to have to have had something to do with it.........but I swear I didn't knock into it or anything that would warrant it falling over. I don't think that Nate entirely believed me (I admit, it didn't look good ~ circumstantial evidence would certainly seem to indicate that I did do something terribly wrong) but Nate was kind, and didn't get angry, or bother assigning blame, and we simply got to work. It was probably a good 45 minutes of cleaning up, and me crying as I found broken ornaments, and getting up the water, and needles, and glass, and the like. We passed out in bed much too late, and were up again much too early the next morning.

Nate was gone playing golf most of the day yesterday, so we decided to wait and address the tree issue until last night. Sure that the problem was the old, small-ish tree stand that we had Nate went and bought a new one. Worried about some of the large, low branches, Nate cut them off. We had to pick the tree up (laden with lights and ornaments) and get it out of the first stand and into the second. Fun work, really fun. Stressful and pokey branches and sloshing water and heavy lifting sort of fun, you know?

We got it done. We noticed that the tree was leaning some, but blamed that on the much accursed stump. We rehung the 30 or so ornaments that had fallen off in the first crash. We vacuumed yet AGAIN. We sighed. We went to bed, again, exhausted. At some point, not long after we had fallen asleep, Nate heard a noise. Nate left the bedroom. I heard lots of cursing and shouting. I jumped up out of bed and started running down the steps ~ Nate hovered over the tree, which was again laying on the floor ~ shouting "don't even come in here!" to me as though he stood over a dead body and was trying to protect me from seeing it. A couple of my most precious ornaments were shattered. I have to tell you ~ at that point I had visions of gasoline and bonfires and crazed tired parents dancing around the blazing tree in some sort of foaming at the mouth insane victory dance. The tree felt like the enemy. I mean, WHO does that happen to? WHO can't get a freaking Christmas tree to stand up?

Us. That's who. Bah freaking humbug, you accursed Christmas Tree.

A feast

This is the face of a well sated baby.

A small gathering this year, just 11 including our kids.

Jules, going to town on her very first Thanksgiving day meal.

So Julia has her first Thanksgiving feast under her belt. She was the first to the table and the last to leave, believe it or not. She housed some turkey, sweet and mashed potatoes, beets, green beans, corn pudding and more. My girl loves her some food, and ate with a gusto. Luke was weird ~ he was just off all day ~ no nap as we were at Mom Mom and Pop Pop's and he apparently felt totally put out at the thought of being upstairs all alone sleeping while the rest of us made merry a floor below. So that was fun for Nate and I. It was a long day, but a joy to be surrounded by family, and fantastic food. Luke and Julia are about to welcome their first cousin on the DiLullo side ~ and we can't wait to meet the little surprise who is due in just a few short weeks.

Turkey Turkey on the wall

I was thinking about gratitude last night. I was thinking about listing out all of the things that I am grateful for.

I started to wonder how to do it without being terribly off putting. I started to think how in this age where 'everyone' blogs or emails or message boards or whatever, the whole "gratitude list" thing has perhaps begun to replace the socially scorned Christmas Brag Letter. So I decided to skip raving about all that is good in my life. I talk about my life, and my gratitude all the time.

Instead here are things that I am grateful for that are much bigger than me and my little niche in the world.

*I am grateful for our Country, imperfect as it is. I am grateful to have a place where I can worship as I please, raise my children as I please, and say what I please.
*I am grateful for our soldiers ~ and I have an entirely new found gratitude and respect and appreciation for the women who are married to those soldiers, and raising children and maintaining homes, and missing their husbands through long deployments, ~ their role is just as important as that of the soldiers themselves. The sacrifice that both make for our country is great, and appreciated.
*I am grateful that (some) race and gender barriers have been shattered this past year. While we are still a country and a world where true equality does not exist, huge steps have been made this year to move towards a more equal and just world.
*I am grateful for those who give generously of their time and/or money to help others. Our country is suffering right now, and more than ever it is a time to reach out to others. I am grateful that Americans do that, and only hope that we as a nation and as a people continue to do more of it.


I'm also grateful for the silly glue-stick-construction-paper-and-crayon-turkey that adorns my fridge, courtesy of Luke. I was thinking about how this Thanksgiving, no faces will be missing from the table of our family ~ immediate or extended. We actually have added one face courtesy of the arrival of sweet Julia. That is what I am most grateful for this year. Another year surrounded by the people that we love, a year free of the loss of loved ones.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of my friends and family ~ I love you all.

Thanks

This morning I was thinking back to Thanksgiving a year ago. I was 6 or 7 months pregnant, with a 9 month old baby, and in the midst of selling two homes, buying a new one, and moving just 10 days before Christmas. It was a little hectic.

This year we have a son and a daughter, are all settled into our home, and are enjoying having no major life changes going on at the moment. I have a lot to be grateful for.

Would love to fill you in more, but there are pies to be made. My little gratitude list will have to wait till morning. In the meantime, the above pics illustrate how much fun little girls clothes are. I didn't know what I was missing shopping for boys clothes. Happy Thanksgiving eve all, may you savor all of the blessings in your life.