Quiet Shower

This evening, Father's Day; we sent RR to go give TT a shower. Now usually when this happens there is some sort of crying (the water got to cold) and yelling (TT getting RR wet, so he's mad) going on.

Tonight none of that happened.

It was strangely quiet.

And they were up there for a while.

So I went to investigate. It was Father's Day after all.

Turns out RR was reading TT "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs" while he showered.

That explains everything doesn't it?

The Struggle is Real

I don't think I've mentioned it here before, but we have some serious bath-time issues with ERP. It all started about a year ago; which is a long time when you consider he's not even two. Suddenly he hated baths. 

Really.

Hated.

Baths.

We're talking full on panic attacks, on his part; over taking a bath. 

Red faced.

Hyperventilating.

Scaling the walls.

Screaming.

Crying.

Total panic melt down.

It is not pretty. These days it takes both Husband and I to wash him. The bath takes about three minutes and that is three minutes too long.

We've tried many things - bathes in the sink, bathes in the baby tub, bathes in the big tub with me, bathes in the big tub with TT, showers with me, showers with Husband, showers with TT. 

Nothing.

Nada.

Zilch.

Until about a week ago he hated most forms of water - except a random puddle or his water table. Earlier in the summer TT accidentally pushed him into the wading pool, he froze; and would have drowned if I wasn't right there. Drowning is silent.

Then one day we got him into the "big" pool with me. He clung to me, like the "baby cling-on" that he is. But he was OK. We went in the pool more and more times. He warmed up to it.

It was progress but we still dreaded taking him to the beach. He hated it. HATED IT. Last summer.

But then we went to the beach last week. And he loved it.

He willingly went into the water. Over and over again. He let me toss him up in the air. He let RR toss him in the air. He played ball. He splashed. He even went under and didn't totally lose him mind. He was like a new kid. Husband and I were on cloud nine from this. This was progress. Huge progress.

This past weekend I moved the small climber and slide onto the deck, and set the slide into the wading pool. TT and ERP gladly went down the slide. ERP willingly and happily went into the little pool. 

We went in the big pool again. He loved it. Floated on his own in his ring.

I was feeling great about bath-time!

And then bath-time came.

And it sucked.

Majorly.

All his fears and panics over the bath came back. 

My original plan was to bath him and TT at the same time. As I have attempted many times in the past. But once we walked into the bathroom ERP lost his shit. Yup... lost it.

So TT showered. ERP continued to cry. Even though he was fully clothed. Normally when he's naked in the bathroom he tries to redress himself in his panic attacks.He got a towel and made me wrap him up in it. And unless he was sitting on my lap, he was crying. Thankfully TT can bath himself, he just needs gentle guidance and someone to dispense the shampoo and soap.

So... the struggle is real. The struggle to bath ERP continues. Rages on.

Seriously - how can someone that happy hate the water so much?

Littlest Scout

I think I've mentioned it a time or two, I am RR's Cub Scout leader. A thankless job it is. Counting the days till he crosses over into Boy Scouts. I had sworn I wouldn't turn into that person, but I did.  Thankfully I have made some very awesome friends in the process.  Friends make it worth it. Seeing your child enjoying himself makes it worth it.

Seeing more than one child enjoying it - that's the added bonus.

There are 7 years between RR and TT. And as such TT thinks everything about RR is the best. His toys, his games, his friends, the Cub Scouts.

When the boys come over to the house for a meeting TT runs around and yells "my scouts, my scouts, my scouts are here."

TT liked to actively "participate" in the meeting. He sits at the table and colors on paper when the boys are doing a table activity. If we are building something, Husband helps him out on the side.

Just this past week the scouts were over and we had a rather calm and seated meeting, reviewing details for their Arrow of Light Award.

So the big boys are standing up one by one and showing the Boy Scout sign and reciting the Boy Scout oath. Once they were done I went to move on to the next exercise and TT reminds me I missed him. So he stands up, like the big boys, fixes his fingers just to and says "and all of the pumpkins are outside and it was the very best snowman forever and ever."

Such a cutie!!  He sure will "his scouts" in February when they cross over and I am no longer their leader.

S.A.U.S.

Yesterday The Big Boy had the most brilliant idea.  He called it Stuffed Animal Utility Suit, SAUS for short.

Basically he took a pair of footed pajamas and stuffed it with a blanket and used a stuffed animal for the head.  It was like a soft and squishy scarecrow made out of bedding.

He had made his first and then he made one of his little brother.  The Little Guy was totally in love with it.  The boys must have played for a good hour or more with them.  If I tried to go and take a picture and the Little Guy noticed me, he gave me the stink eye.

Unless of course he needed me to reattach the head or add a hat for him.  Then it was OK.

It was awesome how well they played with these, and for so long.  There was no serious rough housing, no one was crying, no complaining.  Just playing.

They both loved them so much that they rebuilt them today and took them on a car ride with us.  Good thing we have a van as they both insisted their SAUS needed it's own seat.  Thank you, thank you RR for coming up with such a clever and mess free toy/game to keep you and your brother happy.  You really are an awesome big brother.

Winder about the blue lips on the Little Guy... right before SAUS were made he had been coloring with blue markers.  

Savior

"Ay-Ay!!!"

"Ay-Aaaaayyyyyy"

That would be TT screaming for his brother, his savior.

Whenever Husband or I has TT do something he would rather not do:
brush his shirt
take off his shirt
change his diaper
go upstairs for a nap
stop throwing toys around
... you get the idea.

So as we are trying to range TT he is fighting back and screaming.  Screaming for his brother.  He wants, excepts, his brother to come and save him.

Not that RR has ever come to save him from his parents at this point... not that he has ever needed to really be saved from his parents; because lets face it - we're not terrible people, we're just making him do something he would rather not do, like brush his teeth instead of playing.

I often tell him his "brother will not save him now"... but I am sure a time will come when TT needs some help from his brother and he will be there for him.

Sunday Play Time

Yesterday my cousin and I went to go visit another cousin and my aunt.

We did not leave empty handed.  We left we lots and lots of goodies for our kids.

I decided to ration out the goodies for the boys; a little bit now, a little bit later.

Today I gave them the Star Wars figures and plane.

And I must say, it was a HUGE hit.  You have to love the toys that span the 7 year age gap.  What a winner.  Many many thanks to my Aunt C and Cousin J.

RR knows who all the guys are, and is busy with trying to figure out how to get them more light-sabers and TT just loves action figures; sitting there playing yelling "guys, guys, fly, fly".

This Is MY Rifle

"This is my rifle.  There are many like it, but this one is mine."

Ok, it's not actually his gun.  It's his big brother's; he got it on vacation with my mom this summer at Hampton Beach.  Thankfully it doesn't make noise anymore.  

Either way TT loves it.  He runs around the house, carrying it.  He has no idea what a rifle is for, but he knows his brother loves all sorts of cap guns, water pistols, bug vacuum guns, Nerf rifles and the like; and therefore TT must love the same.  He idolizes his older brother.  

Before RR was born I was THE perfect parent.  Weren't we all?  My kids were going to have very few plastic toys (oh, the evil of plastics) and they certainly were not going to play with toy guns.  

And then I had a child and I became more realistic.  

Old is New Again

The other day I posted about his TT and RR are starting to play together.

This has had more benefits that you can imagine.

Like I can say "RR go play with your brother while I make dinner/fold the laundry/sweep the floor/do other chore I would rather not be doing."  And off they go to play, sometimes with tears because someone got to rough or someone destroyed some layout - but generally they are good.

Playing with his little brother is really expanding RR's imagination . the one I thought he was loosing as he got older.  The crib becomes a pirate ship, the play tents are a carnival game, the possibilities are endless.

And then there are the toys.  The toys that RR discarded years ago as he got older and his tastes changed.  All of a sudden these toys are new to him again.  It's like a trip to the attic is better than a trip to the store, all of a sudden we have all these great "new" toys and they have TONS of pieces... no collections to build up.  Piles and piles of trains, a handful of play tents and tunnles, Duplo Legos (in both castle and Thomas sets) toys toys and more toys.

I'm so glad I kept them all (well, most of them at least).

Playing

The time RR has been waiting for; ever since we told him way back in summer 2010 that he was going to be a big brother, is here.

He know has a built in playmate.

This is the moment he has waited many long years for.

RR will drop to the floor and yell "I'm down, I'm down."
Then TT will come screaming across the room, letting out a war cry, and body slam his big brother.

Or RR will run circles around the house yelling "Get me TT, come get RR".  And TT will gladly chase after his brother, shrieking in delight.  Our house is certainly not a quiet place these days.  

Some days they will take out the Duplo blocks and RR will build TT castles and treasure boxes.

Lately they have taken into playing with the plastic Thomas Train set.  RR will construct these elaborate layouts and TT will run the motorized trains on the track, and chew on the trains, and chew on the other tractors and scenery, and run the tractor through the train wash a dozen time.  Oh and did I mention he'll chew on the trains?  Yeah, he's teething really bad lately.  Poor kiddo.

Sometimes RR has a hard time because TT will destroy the layout (Baby Disctruto anyone?) or they he'll try to play too rough with the baby.  But all in all they are playing together really well these days.  Loudly, but playing well.

Letting Go

Last week I posted about getting the Big Boy ready for overnight camp.  I was all about getting him ready and sending him off.  And I was worried about him.  Worried about how he would do, if his first camp experience would be better than my own - and with that worry in mind I signed him up for a "short week".  Normally camp runs Sunday through Saturday night, with a short week ending after lunch on Wednesday.

Now here I sit, about 24 hours before I have to go and pick him up and I wonder what my true motivation behind signing him up for the shorter week.

Was it because I wasn't ready to let him go?

After we dropped him off at camp Husband and I took TT and walked the mall.  With TT secure in the carrier on Husband's back we were able to roam around stores and departments we normally can't; and we got to talking - about letting go.

Having RR go away to overnight camp wasn't just a big step for him, but it was a big step for me as well.  Sure he's gone away on vacation without me before; but that's been with my mom.  I've been able to watch their vacations unfold on Facebook; and I know my mom will take excellent care of him.  She won't let him each too much junk food, or skip brushing his teeth, or act rude.  I know she would take care of him, just as I would.  But with him being away at camp he's not a phone call away from me (sure the camp can call me, but I can't call him), I can't see how his days are going.

It's like the first time I left him at daycare, he was away from me all day.

Or the first time he rode the school bus, all by himself and I stood on the curb.

It's about letting go.  For me this, overnight camp, is a big step.

When I dropped him off I was jealous (as was Husband).  The camp was amazingly beautiful, nestled into the mountain side besides a deep and wide lake.  The beauty of nature reflecting in the waters, with the tall pine trees gently blowing in the warm summer wind.  The grounds were painstakingly manicured, with the grass "just the right height" in the archery range, and wooden signs pointing out the direction to the dining hall and the nurses station.

Then I felt guilty.  Guilty that I was afraid of letting go and letting him spend an entire week in such a majestic surrounding   Guilty of not wanting to let go and realize he would be OK without me.  Mom guilt.  The worst.  These last eight and a half years have gone by fast and to think when TT is this age the Big Boy will be nearly graduating from high school.

Don't blink.  

Welcome to the Mad House

It's 8:30am, and TT is hanging of the door of the freezer (no he is not an acrobatic, our freezer is on the bottom), trying to rip it open and screaming his head off.  I have just committed the gravest of ills in his eyes. I got myself ice out of the freezer and denied him a freezer-pop.  I calmly bend down, look him in the eye and tell him "You cannot have an icee before breakfast."  He throws his head back and wails, even louder, turning red with tears streaking down his face.

Welcome to the mad house.

TT has developed quiet the little temper these days.  It has to be done his way on his terms.

He does not like getting his diaper changed.  He does not like getting dressed.  He does not like anything that  involves his changing table.

These things make him mad.  Real mad.

If you deny him a toy he will lay on the floor and cry.

He turns beet red.  Some times he stomps his feet, slaps things, throws things.

Oh oh wait... my favorite... when he throws himself down in a full on hissy-fit.  That's always a good one.

I know you're not suppose to laugh when they throw their fits, but it is so hard not to.

So I stifle my laughter, and then I feel bad for him.  Poor little guy.  He just doesn't understand.  Or perhaps he just doesn't like "no" or being told what to do.

Now that I think about it.  Does anyone really like being told no or what to do?  I think not.  I guess as we get older we get tamer.... however in the meantime I am going to enjoy this trip back to the mad-house, as I swear I don't recall the older boy ever throwing a fit at this age.

Selective memory, I think.

In case you missed it, I've changed the boys' names on the blog.

Yummy Sand

The boys and I were outside playing in the sandbox after dinner.

I started the evening amazed, totally floored, by the number of outside trucks, buckets, shovels, and the like I had of Turkey's in the basement.  These toys haven't seen the light of day in at least one summer.

Had he grown too old for them?  It appeared not this evening as he happily played with his brother.

Had I been too busy, so self-absorbed, to take them out for him?  Perhaps.  I would like to think that it was more a case that I assumed he was too big to play with Tonka Trucks.

Or maybe it was a case of something old being new again; now that he had his brother to share the experience with.

So after my brief bout of mom-guilt and reflection I noticed Monkey trying to use the shovel like a spoon.

Me: Don't eat that.  YUCKY.

Him (taking a small taste): Yuuuummmmm.

Me: No.  Yucky.

Big brother giggles in the back ground.

Him (taking a bigger bite of sand): YYYYYUUUUUMMMMM!!!! (grins ear to ear)

Me: Yuck.  Poo-Poo.

Big Brother: Don't knock it until you've tried it.  It's not bad.  A little salty and it would probably be better with honey on it.

*gag*

Yum!! (gag)

He said he was making a pregnant lady belly.  (sigh)

Doing It All Over Again

As we get closer and closer to Turkey's First Communion I am starting to feel very melancholy.  This is a big step for him; several years in the making.  I look at him, and I look at the baby and think about what he was like; seven years ago when he was Monkey's age.  I'm looking back at pictures of him over the last eight years; and I am amazed by how much he's grown; physically, mentally and spiritually.

All of the thinking aside we've been busy preparing for his big day. He has had a few rehearsals, he has a few more to attend to as well.  He got a new hair cut, we bought his special clothes, and we got his photos done.  We've been planning a party for him, and so on and so on.

And then I think, we get to do this all again in another seven years.

Seven years.  The age gap between the two boys.

Wow, seven years.

Don't get me wrong I wouldn't change a thing about the boys and their age gap.  It certainly has it's up sides; like only having to diaper one child at a time.  ;-)

And then I start thinking about where I might be in seven years.  By then I will be in my early 40s.  When my mom was in her early 40s, I was in my early 20s.  Then I think, when Monkey is in his early 20s; I'll be in my mid-50s, the age my mom is now.

I like the idea of being able to "doing it all again", seven years from now.  I like wondering where we'll all be in seven years.  What kind of eight year old will the baby be?  What kind of teenager will Turkey be?  What will Husband and I be doing for work and hobbies?  What kind of relationship will my boys have with each, and any other siblings that may come there way?

That's the good thing about the future, it's full of possibilities.

Silent Saturday

Coloring!!!

Firsts, Expectations and Bibs

Turkey and Monkey had due dates within days of each other, so when it was time for Monkey to be born I had expected him to be early like his brother.  Everyone told me the second one usually comes "before" your first, and seeing that by this time last year I was walking around already 3cm dilated I assumed Monkey would be here before Valentine's Day.

I was so sure Valentine's Day was going to be his first holiday that I went out and got him a "First Valentine's Day" bib and tucked it into my hospital bag.

Valentine's Day came and went, and no Monkey.  The bib did travel to and from the hospital with us, and eventually got tucked into his dresser.  Over the year it's be accompanied by 1st Easter, Halloween, Thanksgiving and so-on bibs.

Today he finally got a chance to wear the bib I bought him over a year ago.

Today he celebrated his last 1st holiday.

I know a lot of parent's that commiserate over the end of the first year, the end of firsts if you will.

But I have learned over the years (many thanks to Turkey for this lesson) that firsts don't end after your baby turns one.  In fact, some of the most exciting firsts happen after year one, two, or even after the first five years. I know I have many, many firsts to look forward for both of my boys.

We had a lot of expectations for Monkey in his first year, and some of them we have seen happen; and others we are still waiting on... like teeth.  When is he going to get that first tooth?

I guess that's the other lesson my boys have taught me - expect to be amazed and expect the unexpected; because sometimes what you are expecting doesn't happen.

Oh and by the way, this bib is still so big on him, he would have looked totally ridiculous on him last year. 

Project food Budget: Holiday Shopping & Lesson Learned

Tonight I went food shopping for Christmas and a few days following.

I was ready.  Really ready.  I made my list, and double checked it against the circulars for the two local stores.  I stopped at store X (which I really don't like) on the way home from work and picked up a few odds and ends (less than $10 worth) that was on sale there.  It was 8pm, both boys were in bed, I had on my sneakers and a sweatshirt with front pocket (perfect for my list and pen).  I remembered my list, my pen, and even my shopping bags.  I was READY.

It was a pleasant night, warm for this late in December in New England.  I enjoyed the drive to the store listening to Christmas music and looking at all the lights.  I picked myself up a hot chocolate on the way, and braced myself for the crowds.

But there was no crowd, the store had maybe a dozen other shoppers in it.

I started in the baking isle, since I was going to spend a good deal of money on this and my ham.

I took my time, and shopped off my list.  It was a good shopping trip... I could think clearly and was able to add my groceries up in my head as a I went (a skill that I had lost after the birth of Monkey, I chalk it up to new mommy brain... hey, with a 7 year age gap I get to claim that again).

My budget was $150.  I knew I was doing good and picked up a few dollars worth of extra stocking stuffer chocolates.  My total was $149.44.  I did awesome.

Then I went to pay... and I could not find my debit card.  I was sure Husband gave it back to me after I asked him to do some last minute on-line shopping the other day.  He must have given it back to me.  I checked again and again, but could not find it.  So I counted the cash in my wallet... I was short (OK,  was surprised I had that much on me, who knew all those ones and fives would add up).  I had the clerk take off my conditioner and $8 worth of butter... and I had just enough... down to nearly my last penny... $135.13.

As soon as I got out of the store I called Husband.  He's sure he gave me back my debit card.  Then he checks his wallet... and there it is, safe and sound.

Lesson learned... make sure you have money on you when food shopping.

Don't forget to check out these other blogs and see how they did this week.  Hopefully no one else forget their debit card.

Emily Levenson
Dairy-Free Cooking
Test Kitchen Tuesday
Red Pen Mama
Acquired Tastes
Fit Flexitarian
Warm As Pie 
Katy Rank Lev
My Inner Healthy
Little Blue Hen
xox, b
What da Health?
Project Food Budget 2.0
Ignition Nutrition
A Nice Heart and a White Suit
Fresh...A New Chapter
Chandeleah
• Two Eggs Over Easy 
• That's Just Me
  

What Goes Around Comes Around

Before Turkey was born I bought the cutest lime green fleece snowsuit, complete with toggle buttons and all from Gymboree.  They didn't have a newborn size, so I bought it a few sizes too big.  (Hey, first time mom what did I know.)  In the end he wore it home from the hospital, rolled sleeves and all.  And then he never wore it again.

But I loved it dearly, so I packed it away into his "keep forever box".

Fast forward 7 plus years and it's the end of October and we're expecting snow, and now I have Monkey who is 8 months old and has no snow suit.  So up to the attic I go and dig through the box and find the lime green fleece snowsuit Turkey ONCE wore.

Granted it was a little small (you couldn't fold the feet and hand covers over), but it fit for the most part.  Problem solved... for now.

9 Months and 1 Day

Dear Monkey,

Today you are 9 months and 1 day old.  You are getting to be an "old man" I tell ya'.  Your daddy is so NOT ready for you to be a toddler in the coming months.  He's in denial.  (Your mommy may be as well.)

Earlier today we took your to your well-baby-check-up (say that 5 times fast), and you are HUGE.  OK, maybe not HUGE, but you are tall 30.5" (95%) and skinny 18 lbs. 6 oz (25%).  You are taller and thinner than you big brother at this age.  I wonder how it will be as you both get older.

I guess Ney-Ney had called the doctor and told her we were "starving you", as she recommended upping the amount of solids you eat in a day (while still keeping up all the "wonderful nursing till at least a year").

When we left the doctors we got some quick 9 month pictures done.  Mommy just had to get one of you wearing the same outfit big brother wore for his 9 months pictures.  She is a sap like that.  The photographer thought you would be crawling all over the place - man was she wrong.  You're our little late bloomer, and that's OK.... I'm not ready to baby-proof the house yet.

Then we got you your new car seat, as you are now too big height wise for your infant seat.  While I will miss having a "baby in a bucket" I will enjoy not having to lug that thing around.

Speaking of being too big, you are quickly growing out of your 12 month clothing.  I wasn't planning on having to buy you two winter wardrobes, but you are certainly moving into 18 month clothes rather quickly.

You're favorite things to do these days are play with your big brother, jump in your jump-a-roo, play the monkey piano, your blocks and eating.  You love eating, especially for some one without any teeth.

Your mommy loves you... and I hope the time between now and your first birthday slows down a bit.

And now... what you've been waiting for.... pictures...

Your first time in your carseat.

The last time in this carseat.

Checking out your new carseat.

Sleeping, un-swaddled, with a lovey... this is NEW for you.

Playing with your blocks.

The Best Of (Part 4 of 10)

I've been thinking long and hard about the next thing on my list of the Top 10 Baby Items, and then today it came to me as Monkey was screaming his head off and I was searching for Baby Dee.  Baby Dee is #4.

So.... drum roll please.... #4 on the list is.....

The Hasbro/Playskool Glow Worm, or as we call it around our house Baby Dee.

Monkey, around age 3 months with Baby Dee.

Baby Dee got his name from my, now, 16 year old cousin and Goddaughter V.  When V was a baby she needed her Baby Dee, all the time.  Over the years she had several Baby Dees.  My aunt would just keep buying them and replacing them, saying that Baby Dee had gone to get cleaned up or to the doll hospital... you get the idea.

Back then Baby Dee only came in green, and was much longer - now they are short and study and come in blue or pink (isn't that special).  But they still do the same thing, you squeeze their belly and their face lights up and they play music for about 30 seconds (That's my only complaint, why of why, for the love of.... can't they play and light up for like 10 minutes.  Oh heck, I would be happy with 5 minutes.  Who am I kidding?  3 minutes and I would be good.)


When Monkey is crying and nothing soothes him; not the boob, the pacifier, or daddy cuddles; we know it's "Baby Dee Time".  We grab that silly little glow worm, put it right up to his face and squeeze... and then the calm come.  Red eyed Monkey stops crying and looks, stares really, at Baby Dee.  And then Baby Dee turns off, he starts to whimper, so we squeeze again.  A few more rounds of this, and Monkey is happy, chewing on his baby's ear.

We've even had car trips where we have paid Turkey $2 to squeeze and hold Baby Dee to his brother's face over and over again.

We love Baby Dee in this house.  We all do, even the 7 year old has been known to yell "It's Baby Dee time."

Full Disclosure: We didn't pay for our Baby Dee, we had Kohl's Cash and got it for free; but I was not paid for this review and would gladly buy a Baby Dee should we ever need a second one.


You can find items 1, 2 and 3 on my list here.  

Everday

It seems like lately, everyday, I am packing up some of Monkey's baby gear or clothes that he no longer fits or uses.  My attic is full of odds and ends of his baby gear.  The top shelf in his closet has more clothes on it that doesn't fit him than the dresser holds of clothes that DO fit him.  (I really should buy a bin to store his clothes in.)

I swear Turkey didn't grow up this fast.  But maybe he did and I just blocked it out.  You know like how you block out the pain of childbirth after the fact, just enough to trick yourself into having another.

These days it seems like Turkey is growing too fast as well.  Just yesterday he told me he couldn't wear his raincoat to school since it was too babyish (which I agree it may be now, he got it when he was 4 (and it was huge on him)).  On Turkey's first day of school this year I cleaned out all of his old clothes as well, and then on Labor Day we cleaned out his toy room and took out all the broke and "babyish" toys.

Sigh.... don't blink they grow so fast.