No More Monkeys

When the kids aren't quite ready for bed, we just stick them in the crib and let them jump out all of their energy.  

Of course, some days, they are so tired that they can fall asleep anywhere.  

 Watching someone else clean out the crumb-infested kitchen drawers and cupboards would be quite exhausting, I'd imagine.

Note to Self

Dear older and wiser 2011 Melanie,

After the glutton of Halloween and the endless gratitude of Thanksgiving, you will be eager to move on to the culmination of all yearly holidays: Christmas.  You will start talking about Christmas- visiting family and shopping for toys, dreaming about softly falling snow and envisioning the glow of your children's eyes as they gaze at the Christmas tree- as soon as the first leftover turkey sandwich is made.

You will want to quickly pack away the Thanksgiving decorations to make room for the Christmas tree, nativities, and advent calendar.  You may even be swept away enough to rationalize pulling out the decorations out while the kids are awake and possibly even a little stir crazy from non-stop-rain-and-30-degree-weather-induced cabin fever.  You will tell yourself that it will be a fun and memorable way to spend Thanksgiving weekend together as a family.

You. Must. Resist.  

You will undoubtedly end up with three broken ornaments in the first 15 minutes of decorating, which will result in 3 separate vacuumings of the same living room rug.  You will threaten to pack up all the decorations and put them back in the garage before it is even the month of Christmas.  You will have used the phrase, "The elves are watching" 45 times in the first weekend of their appearance.  You will wish you had waited until the proper 25 days before Christmas to even mention the holiday at all, because now you have to hold true to all of those threats and promises for another MONTH.

And deep down you know that,  no matter how many times the kids remove their favorite ornaments from the tree and then leave in the middle of the floor for you to step on, Santa will be coming to your home on Christmas Eve.  So just relax.

You might even end up with sweet moments like these.  

And then you'll realize that it really is all worth it.  

But still, don't say I didn't warn you.

P.S.- Next year you'll be shocked at how little she looked, but for today, doesn't Leah just look so grown up?  Pants outfits are still so rare that I can't help but take a picture every time.

She Says

As I'm raking leaves up in the yard: "Mom!  There's a car coming... get out of the street!  You're being a bad example, now I'll have to stand in the street, too."

L:  Mom, can I do some service for you?
M:  Sure, will you help me clear the table?
L:  No, Mom!  That would just be miserable!

M:  We'll let Daddy decide because he's the head of our house.  He's the boss.
L:  No he's not.  You're the boss.

As I'm walking away: "Mom! You can't leave because I LOVE YOU!"

Thankful

*That our car is generally reliable.  I would have preferred that it had NOT broken down on Thanksgiving Day, making us a few hours late to the most important dinner of the year, but I'm thankful we still have a car, nonetheless, and that it was a quick and inexpensive fix.

*That I finally perfected the shrimp dip recipe.... even if I'm the only one who eats it.

*That my kids are healthy, energetic, and happy.  And why wouldn't they be when they get to eat chocolate turkeys at 8:00 in the morning?!

("This is the best day of my life!")

*That Jason works so hard to provide for our family.  I am especially thankful for the long weekend that we got to share together, and I think he'd insert here that he's so thankful that I am up for the incredible task that motherhood is.  Long weekends give him a good glimpse of it.

16 months

Adam had his 16 month check up recently.  He got four shots and a finger poke, but he hardly cried at all.  He is such a trooper when it comes to pain, thankfully.  He climbs up and then falls off a chair at least once a day.  He's weighing in at nearly 24 pounds and is in the 85th percentile for height.  He's a solid little man.  While we're checking in on his progress, I thought I'd add a few notes of my own.

Adam is happy.  Just so happy.  He loves everything, and everyone (in his immediate family anyway).  He has recently learned to scowl, but he uses it mostly to express his intense concentration in figuring things out. And occasionally to let me know that he does not appreciate my declaration that it's time for a nap. 

He loves to be with Leah.  They are best friends, and he is kind enough to put up with her constant hugs, kisses, and belly pokes.  He always looks for her as soon as he wakes up, and they love to giggle together.  The other night Jason and I sat and chatted for a full 30 minutes uninterrupted while the kids played happily in the next room.

He will wander around the house for hours, checking things out, stooping over to pick tiny crumbs up, and putting things together then taking them apart again. 

He loves to pray, fold his arms like a pro, and says Aaaa-men!"  Often he will fold his arms and look at me expectantly, and we will say a prayer together, just because.

He has started running away from me after he gets out of the bath.  He loves to be chased, and I often find him hiding in Leah's closet, looking like this.

He loves his daddy.  Oh my, they have a manly relationship that I just don't understand.  How punching someone in the arm can show affection is beyond me, but they do it, and they love it.

Adam likes doors and cupboards to stay closed.  If the pantry door is open, he will always close it before going on his way.  And he loves to push around the toy vacuum and sing, "Eeen-up!  Eeen-up!"  He's a boy after my own heart.

In lots of ways I feel like my baby is gone.  He's a little boy now.  Some days I can't believe he is only 16 months old, and other days I can't believe he is already 16 months old.  Either way, I am completely smitten.

I finally got his first pictures off of my phone and onto my computer.  He was born so quickly that we didn't have the camera with us- not that I'm complaining about a quick delivery.  But I never got these pictures of Leah, or even got to see the moments captured (the newborn scream, the scale shot, the completely fresh from heaven view) because I wasn't there.  But I was present when Jason took these pictures of Adam, and they have become precious to me.

With and Without You

Jason's grandpa passed away last week and he had the chance to head back home for the funeral.  The kids and I sorely missed him, but managed to have a pretty great time while he was away.  Leah always seems to step it up when Jason is gone and is a great helper to me. 

We went on a 3 Musketeers date at the end of the week to celebrate our successful alone time.  The server commented to me that my kids were "remarkably well behaved", and she was right.  In that instance, they were.  I think they were just shocked that I would dare take them to a semi-fancy restaurant by myself!

Of course, we have been having loads of fun with Daddy since he's been home.  Instead of tending to our regular morning chores, we spent over an hour last Saturday playing hide-and-seek.  There were prizes at the end, with the award for the stupidest attempt at squeezing into a tight spot going to me.  I think I still have a few bruises!

And later that same day we took the kids to Chuck E. Cheese for the first time.  I was cringing the whole way there- my childhood memories of the place were of sticky carpets and a dark theater full of huge animatronics- but the kids absolutely loved it.  No surprise there, but Jason and I quite enjoyed it, too.  The pizza was edible, the games were fun, and the carpet was clean.  I would dare say that we will go there again someday.

Jason and I bought tickets to our local symphony orchestra earlier this year, and we had a concert that same night.  There was a guest concert pianist, and oh my, he was amazing.  Jason and I were both completely entranced by his incredible talent and we thoroughly enjoyed every minute of the concert.  With the exception of the people who thought that they needed to bring their kids to sit through a night of Tchaikovsky and couldn't be bothered to take them out when they were loud.  No, I did not pay a baby-sitter to have someone else's kids interrupt my night.  But that's their choice, I suppose.

And we topped of the weekend with a trip to the chocolate shop that is just around the corner from the theater.  Although it smells a bit like a litter box (I'm penning a strongly worded letter for the owner of the shop in my mind), the treats are amazing.  I'm converted to the double chocolate cheesecake and Jason got a giant whoopie pie- think a yellow cake hamburger with frosting in the middle.  Delish.  That will become a traditional part of our evenings downtown.

We also received the sad news that my grandpa also passed away this week.  I won't be able to attend the funeral, but he, like Jason's grandpa, was an amazing man, and I know we will miss him.  I will especially miss the opportunity to teach my children that my grandpa was one of Santa's real helpers.  But I am grateful for the knowledge that we have that our families can be together forever.  And with such fantastic families as ours, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Life BC- Eating In

Because we lived in the same apartment complex, Jason and I occasionally ate our meals together while we were engaged.  The first time he made me french toast, he followed a recipe.  I was quite surprised- I didn't even know people took the time to write recipes for things like french toast.  It's eggs and cinnamon folks.  Not that tough.  It was good, sure, but I don't remember it being the best. french. toast. ever.  (sorry, sweetie). 

But I do remember that that was early in the days of our dating- after eating the french toast that he had made for me and two of my girl friends, the girls piled into a car and we took an autumn drive around the Alpine Loop.  One of the girls was lamenting over her lack of a boyfriend, and I sat in the backseat, smiling to myself and thinking that I really had found something worth keeping with Jason.  Don't you just love how empathetic young love can make you?  She's married now, too, so it all turned out okay.

Another early meal I remember was the spinach-tortellini-feta-cheese salad Jason made me for my birthday lunch.  It was a fantastic day of celebration, but I was feeling slightly under the weather, and that salad did NOT sit well with me.  Poor Jason.  He was just trying to impress me, but to this day I cannot allow that food combination in our home.  I do, however, occasionally wish he would make me another half-yellow-cake-half-funfetti-birthday-cake.  How cool is that?

But the meal that goes down in our family history was the egg sandwich.  I don't remember how long we had been dating by this point, but I remember we were still in the only-speak-sweet-nothings stage.  I guess we should still be in that stage, but that's beside the point here.  We were finishing up our egg and sausage biscuits and getting ready to head to school.  I started cleaning up and put the last bite of my sandwich on the counter in my apartment to savor while I was doing the dishes.  And when I reached for it, to enjoy that last tasty morsel... it was GONE!

It took me a minute to realize, but when I saw Jason chewing and wiping a crumb from the corner of his mouth, it was clear.  He ate the last bite of my sandwich!  I was shocked.  I was angry.  I was incredulous.  See, while my dad assures me that he came from the family of "the quick and the hungry", I never remember having to fight for food growing up.  There was always plenty to go around, unless it was red velvet cake.  Jason, on the other hand, really did come from the family of the quick and the hungry.  If you didn't eat it, someone else did.  I have since learned this, but that fateful morning, I felt betrayed.

"You... You... You... TRASH COMPACTOR!" I shouted angrily.

Jason blinked.  And swallowed.  "What?" he asked innocently.  "Weren't you finished with that?"

"No!" I exclaimed.  "I was saving the last bite and you ate it!" 

"Then why did you put it on the counter?" he asked. 

Of course, I didn't feel the need to explain myself to him.  I was far too ticked.  Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but it was such a foreign feeling to me to have someone take my food!  And that day, we each learned a lesson.  Jason learned to ask me before he finished off my meal, and I learned that I was marrying into a family of the quick and the hungry.

Even now there are days when I have to clearly state, "Yes, you may eat this" or "No, I'm not done yet.  Stop looking at my mashed potatoes."  Every once in a while I still find that the precious last bite has magically disappeared, although Jason always swears that I gave him the all-clear before he took whatever it was.

And apparently it's genetic.  Without fail, after every meal I wash Adam up and watch him make his way back over to the table, where he climbs up and finishes off whatever Leah has left behind. 

By now I've learned to just be grateful that they don't let food go to waste.  Thanks, boys!