February 26: Hen House

 

Today has been one of the busier Saturdays I've experienced in recent times.  Spent most of the day with my good friend Sarah, leading a session on life planning and college choice for the Youth Leadership Program of a local organization that I spend a lot of time working with.  So, after a loooong day and a mini-nap and a really wonderful visit with my dear Chelsey (up from VA) I am totally beat.  

 Also--while I was gone, Mike "finished the job" on the ol' camera.  In his defense, he was trying hard to fix the problem, didn't turn out like he'd planned. 

In my laziness, I've snapped a few photos of Hen's room with my phone for today's post.  Thought it might be nice to capture some of the sweeter (read: less messy) details of his big boy room.  In order--birds on the door, vintage New York State pennant in honor of the place in which his dad was raised, plaid bathrobe on the closet door (so cute), ikea curtains with thrifted lamp and homemade lampshade to match and, my favorite, the weird little family of Boston Terriers I found at a local thrift store.  Tomorrow--Kitty's lair...unless I get creative and/or find a new camera between now and then!

In other, more delicious (and evil) news...

My little sister made Nutella cookies.  She posted pictures of the entire process (including finished product) on her blog.  She lives 2 hours away.  I will not get to taste these Nutella cookies.  Her evilness goes unmatched.  I can not endure this alone...you must also view, be tempted and then terribly let down.

Thanks a lot Beeguile (pronounced: bee-jhwol, for those who want to accurately curse her along with me)

February 25: The Helper

Organizing diapers can be such a chore.  Thank goodness we have a very committed big brother to take on this onerous task.  This is one the many things that Hen does to "help" his little sister, and what does she offer him in return?  A sweet smile, a confused stare, occasionally an adorable coo...and this morning, a sore scalp.

Our typical routine looks a little like this: Mike gets up at 5am, leaves by 5:45am.  Everyone else sleeps...for at least an hour longer.  Once Henry is up, however, it's time for the rest of the world to jump to it, or that's how he sees it.  I don't mind being woken up (cha...right), but it drives me nuts when he gets in Alice's face, pokes her nose, speaks at the highest volume possible right next to her ear as she sleeps calmly and quietly.  I've tried to explain that the longer she sleeps, the easier it is for mommy to get breakfast ready, get dressed, prepare for the day etc.  This logic just doesn't seem to stick.  This morning, like any morning, Henry was "helping" to wake Alice up while I hovered over him, shushing and redirecting while attempting to put my socks on and  pull my hair back.  Alice surprised us both when she woke up, looked over at her brother, calmly reached out and grabbed a fistful of his hair.  A startled and upset Henry eventually freed himself from her chubby grip (she is strong!).  He made sure I knew that she had hurt him, said "No THANK YOU, Alice!" and then whimpered "Mamaa, she is not listening to my words!" 

One thing I'd be willing to guess, Henry won't be so eager to "help wake up baby Alice".  My words may fall on deaf ears, but a baby fistful of hair always gets the message across.

February 24: The Lost Art of Sitting Still

I have two very different kids.  I can tell this already, even though one of them is barely 3 months old.  Hen is a lot like me.  He does not stop moving--unless, of course, he's watching television (last photo).  He is also a bit dramatic and I have no idea where he gets that from (wink-wink).  Little (big) Kitty is more like her dad--laid back and sedentary.  She barely moves.  Not kidding.  When I'm holding her against my shoulder, I have to ask Mike to check her face to see if she's awake or asleep...you can't tell the difference because she is nearly always calm and still and very, very chunky (that last one has nothing to do with how laid back she is, but it seemed important to point out).

The set of photos above was taken this morning with the broken lens camera (I'm still mourning the loss).  These are spaced out over the course of about a minute.  As you can see, the only real movement that comes from Kitty is when she topples over onto her brother and when she yawns.  This is wonderful and hilarious and I adore her calmness. Hen, on the other hand, was never that way, from birth on...he can't stay still for longer than 15 seconds.  He is non-stop busy and it can get frustrating at times, but mostly, it tickles me to have a fellow busy body in the house.  We both like to dance, we both like playing airplane and we both like to whip around the house on his plasma car (weight limit 220...best.gift.ever).

I'm curious to see what that busyness turns into once Henry is old enough to do his own thing.   Interpretive dancing?  Skateboarding?  Speech and Debating?  All Star Football playing?  All of the above?  Will he use his energy for good and not evil?  As for Kitty, I am just so grateful to her for being such an easy and laid back baby, and hope that her ease and sweetness follow her into her adolescent years, at which time I am sure that she will think I am unbelievably cool and will want to tell me everything about her life and will always take my advice seriously and will think that staying home some nights to hang with your mom is "totally acceptable". Hey, a girl can dream, right?

February 23: The Art Wall (and Acorn Baby Jesus)

Recently, Henry discovered the joy and self-satisfaction that comes with the completion of an art project.  He's dabbled in paint, crayons, markers and even received his first pair of scissors this Christmas (oh, the coveted safety scissors.  Such a big deal.)  Henry would, on occasion, put these tools to use, creating some real masterpieces which we proudly display in our home.  Our collection includes three framed beauties that hang in his room and two very colorful works on canvas which are featured above our refrigerator.   There is also, the art wall.

The art wall began in our kitchen and, just today, was moved to a corner of the playroom.  It seems like the most appropriate place for what we expect to be a larger and more varied collection.  Until recently, Henry was immersed in what we'll call his "blue period", because, well, he rarely chose any color other than blue, and he really would lay it on thick...it took days for the paint to dry and we were left with these heavy, cracking, bluish cloud-like masterpieces.  Now, he's working more with mixed-media, bringing home a cotton ball wig for President's Day and a perfectly cut, laminated and popsicle-sticked groundhog puppet (not the work of unsteady safety scissors, clearly there were teachers involved).  No matter what he creates, I praise it.  I feel proud and in awe of how big and smart he is getting, but I am starting to wonder...do I have to hang on to all of this stuff?  It's starting to add up.

Is it my job, as a parent, to become a collection site for every single art project that walks through the door, or can I admire it and then chuck it in the recycling bin, for the nice garbage collectors to ooh and aah over?  As a kid, I expected my parents to cherish and keep every single thing I created, even if I wasn't particularly sentimental about it.  I mean, they're my parents, right?  That's what they do.  Even as recently as this Christmas, while checking out their beautifully decorated tree, the first thing that came out of my mouth was, "Mom, where are all of the homemade ornaments??  WHERE IS THE ACORN BABY JESUS?!?!  I made him when I was three, for crying out loud!" 

Now, I'm pretty certain that Acorn Baby Jesus was most likely assembled by my preschool teacher, Miss Ferry (he has extremely small beady eyes glued to his little acorn head, affixing them would have been way too difficult for my sausage-like three year old hands) and yet, to me, he is beautiful, delicate and very, very important.  I am so pleased that my parents kept this treasure so safe for over 25 years.  It does mean a lot to me.  However, if Suz & Mac held onto every single thing that I or my sisters made, they would no doubt end up on TLC's disturbingly addictive show, "Hoarders" (did you see the one with the rats? *shudder*).

So, I guess my charge, as a parent, is to keep an eye out for the thing that will be Henry or Alice's "acorn baby Jesus", treasure it, keep it safe, give it a place of honor in our home, and know that many years from now, seeing their childhood artwork in the house will still mean as much, if not more than it does today.

February 22: No day like a snow day

 

Mr. B is home today thanks to more than a few inches of snow on the ground.  When I was a kid I thought there was nothing better than a real, old-fashioned snow day.  Not the wimpy 1-hour or 2-hour delay, no, no, no, I was only ever interested in the Full Monty, the no school snow day.

This is why I was shocked and, almost appalled, when Mike complained about school closings.  He loves the 2-hour delay, hates the "8-hour delay" as he put it.  With the patience and reasoning skills of 4th grader, I rolled my eyes, twirled my hair, smacked my gum and said "Ugh! Why do you hate school closings so much?!  Two-hour delays are stupid!  Most people have to WORK...you should be happy...so ungrateful."  Mike shot me a quizzical look, unsure as to whether this was a joke or not, and blankly said, "Mol, if school is closed, I have to make the day up, if it's just a delay or early closing, it counts in full.  Didn't you know that??"  I felt a little embarrassed, because, well, he's right.  I'd much rather been in school/work during the awful month of February (truly...is it not the WORST month ever?  Winter wasteland, ew) and off school/work enjoying the darling buds of May/June.

Today Mike will be channeling his handy side as he takes the first step in the finishing of the basement.  I will be doing my usual mommy stuff with Alice and then, when she goes down for a nap, I will pick a work-out video from comcast on-demand, complete half of it and watch the other half from the couch  while eating a brownie.  This is a completely true statement (except for the part where I do half of the workout...that's being generous).

Happy snow day!

February 21: Toytown USA

Population: 4 (1 easily distracted preschooler, 1 cranky baby, 2 busy parents, up to their ears in messiness)

I was on the phone this morning with my very dear friend, Talu discussing plans to visit our other very dear friend (and new mom to twins) Lulu.  I've just written that sentence and already I feel judged--no, I did not make them up, they are real people and no, those are not their given names, but nicknames given affectionately during our high school years.  I wish I could have been more present during that conversation (sorry Talu), instead, I spent most the 30 minutes or so pleading with Henry to pleeeease put away some of these toys before we are all buried alive.  Apparently his listening ears were not on...not even close.

I am usually very self conscious about mess and tidiness in my home.  I often wish that things were better organized and am very uncomfortable entertaining any guest when I feel like my space is in disarray.  My dad always encouraged organization (I use the word "encouraged" quite generously), but it didn't really stick for me.  I try my hardest to find a place for everything, and to keep everything in its place.  It's just not that easy for us.  Mike and I are what I'd kindly call, "creative", which translates as "people who are so taken with their own imagination and pursuits of happiness that they hardly notice that they can't see the top of their dining room table any longer".

Now that we have kids, we are both much more aware of the state of things in our home, and we do work together to keep our mess small and contained.  The family member that could give two hoots about the joys of a clean and organized home is, of course, Hen-Bo.  Going against my general need to display a picture of order to the outside world, I'm posting photos of the family room.  This mess took about 3 minutes and has only gotten worse.  I honestly don't know where to start.  I'll eventually get everything back to its home, but it will last for about 20 minutes, and then, toy mania once again. If you're in the area, come on in and embrace the chaos.

February 20: Captain Spec-tacular

I don't have much to say about this except, have you ever in your life seen a cuter kid in glasses? Perhaps I'm a bit biased.  These specs are new--both the lenses and the frames--and feature a weaker prescription.   This gives me some hope that the doctor wasn't leading us on when he said that Henry might not have to wear glasses for the rest of his life, that his amblyopia could correct itself with some help and some time.  I'll be happy when that day arrives, until then, we continue to keep an eye out for lenses underfoot (he takes them off whenever he has the chance) and will enjoy the "little professor".

February 19: Stuffy Nose Central

(on the inside): "Get well soon seemed bossy" --from Mary, during a previous strain of illness and discomfort in our home.

Ugh.  Posting a day late, which I hate to do.  Yesterday was an interesting combination of lots of busy/fun/entertaining activity and just as much lazy down-time.  We enjoyed a wonderful birthday celebration honoring brother-in-law/uncle extraordinaire, Justin and his equally energetic brother, Nathan.  Henry was instantly at ease at the Doty home, which I was so glad to see because he can really retreat into his shell when he is in new places and situations.  On this occasion, however, we walked into his ideal scenario: Aunt Meggie, another 3-year-old, cats and cake.  When he wasn't asking (politely, but firmly) when we would be eating said cake, he was chasing the cats around the house, his eyes crazed and wide with excitement, laughing hysterically while trying to say "Mama!!  I found a CAT!!"

Our own little kitty was very pleasant and perfectly content as she was passed from one doting Doty to the next.  On occasion she'd give a little cough or sneeze, as if to say "Yes, I'm the most perfect baby in the world, even with a stuffy nose."  When she woke up yesterday morning with the sniffles and what sounded like a mucousy cough, we called the doctor immediately to go over symptoms.  We were given the green light and told "as long as she can eat and sleep and it doesn't last longer than a few days, it's not a problem".  Saline drops and cool mist have helped to clear the nasal passages and we  have had NO problem with feeding and eating, she is such a fat cat. 


It would be great if that was the end to this story.  Alice is stuffy for a day and then she's all better, the end.   Unfortunately, I can feel this ear/nose/throat business resting over our family, like a thin film.  I woke up with a sore throat and Whiny McWhinerson is sitting next to me making every demand in the book while whimpering "Mommy...Mommeeeee!!!"  Mike is still in bed and Alice has yet to wake him.  Uh-oh!  Break out the Vitamin C drops!  We could be here for a while...