April 9: Brother-Sister; Golf Star-Ballerina Princess

 

I have absolutely no idea why Alice's hair looks so dark in this photo...it's actually mostly reddish.  With that oddly-hued little tuft of hair she looks a lot more like her dad.  What I really like about this photo is something I didn't notice when I first took it--the very threatening raised fist.  "Mess with my brutha, and I will bring the pain." Watch out folks, that's nearly 18 lbs of business comin' at you.

In other news--we've all returned to normal, stomach bug crawled on out of here and we were happy to see him go, he was about as welcome as a stink bug.  We ran errands, bought groceries, played with Hen's toys and watched The Masters.  We're kind of tickled with Hen's growing interest in the game of golf.  He has indoor clubs and an outdoor club (a seven iron, made for ages 3-5, and his pick when shopping with Mike at Dunhams for a special "daddy birthday gift").  He understands the purpose of the game, and gets excited when a player has a good shot, and disappointed (but still excited) with the bad shots.  He can point out Tiger Woods, and is getting better at naming Rory McIlroy and Jason Day.  It's just one of those funny things he has taken a liking to.  As you can imagine, Mike couldn't be happier or more proud.  I'm pretty sure there is some mini-golf in their near future.  While all of this is going on, Kitten and I are upstairs looking at ourselves in the mirror and making up a song about her being a "Ballerina Princess".  Typical Saturday.

April 8: Quarantine

Picking up where we left off...

I return home (Thursday night) from a "there and back" trip to Philly.  Usually, when I get home late like this the house is dark, save for one light in the living room.  Things are peaceful and quiet with the faintest sleeping sounds floating down from upstairs.  I sigh, because I'm happy to be home, tip-toe inside, lock up, turn off that last "waiting up for you" light and make my way upstairs, being careful to avoid the stairs that squeak.  I peek into rooms, resisting that urge to curl up cuddly with my little ones.  You always let sleeping babes lie, even if you were sad to have been away from them.

So on this particular night, instead of the sleepy fairytale that I usually walk into, I bear witness to the horror that is the stomach bug.  Lights are on, laundry piles are high, Mike looks exhausted and Henry is awake, sweetly smiling at me, but clearly in such an unhappy and uncomfortable place.  I pick him up and he rests contently in my arms, "I missed you Mama, I want you to hold me", and I don't care if I get sick, I'm going to hold this kid until he is comfortable and sleeping.

What I didn't really consider in that tender moment, is that if I did get sick (and oh...I did), who was going to take care of everyone?  As it turns out, being a parent trumps being sick.  Parental duties don't cease just because you've come down with the yuckies.  Lucky for me, Friday was mostly just sleeping, keeping liquid intake up and reintroducing solid foods back into our diets.  We spent waking moments coloring, reading and talking in bed.  Here's a quick little video from Friday morning, when Henry was feeling a little better.

April 7: Quintessential April

As per the post before this one, this week has been pretty hectic.  Thursday (this day) felt like four days rolled into one.  I had the great pleasure of being in/around the city of Brotherly Love (sorry Talu!  I would have called but it was in and out in under 5 hours), and was so proud to see the happy faces of students who had been admitted, and, enrolled.  It's April in admissions, which means, "don't stop, get it, get it".  It's my favorite time of the admissions cycle but also one with some crazy work hours and time commitments, which means..."The Mike, Henry, Alice Show!" 

On this particular day, amidst the crazy of late meetings, long checklists and countless emails, Henry made me smile as big as the cheshire cat when, without help or prompting, he woke up and got himself dressed.  Picked out clothes (that matched?  What??), put them on correctly, came downstairs and asked if he could make himself breakfast.  I said sure, as long as you make mine too (kidding...sort of). 

What a little sweetheart.  He was in such a good "non-tudey" mood this morning that I was pretty surprised to receive the following text on my way back  from Philadelphia:
"Hen threw up 2X...Alice is crying now, I think she's very tired. Laika (dog) dug up the flower garden to uncover a baby rabbit."

Oh April, I love you and loathe you all at once.

April 6: Kitty-Daddy Cuddlebug

Outfit change for everyone!  I'm trying to figure out what exactly happened to prompt this photo, but for the life of me, can't recall.  I know that there was spit-up involved, and possibly a work shirt, but beyond that, I'm stumped.  The funny part of all of this is that this photo was taken on Wednesday, today is Friday, and I am clearly a boatload of crazy this week.

Pooey baby!

April 5: Chatty Kitty

Of course she spits up at the end.  Classic Alice.  

We watched this movie after making it and she talked THE ENTIRE TIME.  It was awkward when I asked her to be quiet...because she's four months old.  ;)  Also--keep an eye out for all of the super "money" chin shots.  Alice and I flaunt our chins like it's nobody's biz.

P.S. As I was working on uploading this video, I checked out the most recent post on Jungle Cub and was absolutely delighted to see the connection.  Talu, we are so on the same page right now.

April 4: What the What?!

Monday was a rough day.  Depleted energy levels following a memorable, fun-filled weekend and a nasty ear/nose/throat thang left this mom feeling pretty out of whack.  Even without cold meds I've been ditzing around like a Malibu Stacy doll.  I hate feeling lost in my own brain, so annoying.

Towards the afternoon, I left work to go pick up both kiddos for their doctor's appointments (Henry's 3-year check up, Alice's 4-month).  Alice was a peach, calm and lovely (until the shots arrived).   Henry was like some poster child for ADHD, crazily running back and forth, touching everything in the room, writhing around on the floor, speaking in tongues.  Despite his wacktitude, Hen had a very positive appointment and our dear doc was pleased with his growth and development.  Towards the end of our visit, however, Hen's new alternate personality, Captain What H.G. Whatsy from the land of Whattington emerged...

I don't know if this is a phase, something that most kids go through, or if it's just a continuation of the best question ever (sarcasm), "Why".  Whatever it is, it needs to stop, or lessen, or I need to suddenly become more patient, because right now, I am going nuts.

Example (keep in mind, this exchange has about a 70% chance of developing in any given conversation):
Me: "Hen, can you please come over here and put your glasses on?"
Hen: "What?" (say this with major attitude, as if you definitely heard the question, but you are sooo offended to have even been asked.  Throw head back in disgust and turn away.)
Me: "Please put on your glasses, Henry, they will help you to see."
Hen: "What??" (even more 'tude, borderline annoyed, still engrossed in some other activity)
Me: "PUUUT ONN YOUR GLAAAASSES!!" (loud and drawn out, as if talking to someone whose hearing aid is turned down to the lowest level possible)
Hen: <<pause>>"Whaat mama?" (smirk on face, knows he's gotten to you)
Me: exasperated sigh
Hen: "What? What? What? What Mama? What? What? What Mama? What? What? WHAAAAT???"

Oh, Em, Goodness this kid is sassy.  I take the slightest comfort in this fact because I know how fantastic, creative and successful sassy people can be when they grow up...I just never knew how exhausting it was to be the mother of Sassosaurus Rex.

April 3: The Long Drive Home

There is no photo for this day, because on this day I was a zombie-mom.  Wake up with awful sore throat, lovely laid-back morning with B, car ride home from Pittsburgh, lunch in Newville for my father-in-law's birthday (what a lunch it was too...I'm still thinking about it), drive home, crash on the couch with hungry baby, hope that 3-year-old just sleeps through until the next morning (went down for nap at 4pm), scramble to get things ready for the following morning, sleep.  sleep.  wake up and feed baby.  sleep.  sleep.  wake up to calm coughing baby.  sleep.  wake up to alarm.  sleep again even though you know you're not supposed to.  wake up to chirpy 3-year-old who wants you to make him french toast. give him B's banana bread instead. sore throat is worse, consider taking cat nap even though you have to get ready for work.

Morning.  Monday.  Ugh.

April 2: The Garden Still Grows

Saturday was--busy, beautiful, crazy, fantastic, exhausting (in the best kind of way).  We got up early to get ourselves ready for the 5K that Mike's school sponsored for Olivia's House (a grief and loss center for children).  Mike, J, Brigie, Mary & Brian toughed it out in cold, windy weather, all finishing strong with respectable times.  Megan, Blake and I watched and cheered, with kids in hand.  When Megan (who is training for a half-marathon with Mary) suggested that we walk the 5K instead of standing around and waiting for our peeps to finish, I responded, with great disgust in my voice "I am NOT walking 3.2 miles!  Are you KIDDING me about that??  Maybe a mile...maybe."  With the comedic timing of a laugh legend, Henry chimes in "Mama, where are they running to?"  allowing me to respond "Nowhere honey, they are running nowhere." 

After the 5K, we packed up our stuff, drove home, changed into church-gear and drove to Pittsburgh for our annual mass and celebration honoring my grandfather, William B. Williams.  It was a lovely mass, and I felt so proud and loved as I looked around at the four (maybe five) pews that had been reserved for our family--in true William style they were packed to the gills.  My Nan probably would have preferred that things be a bit quieter--we were in the very front of the church, and it was, after all, a mass dedicated to my grandfather.  Watching my family members reminded me of being a kid at mass, knowing that as soon as this is over, you're going back to the social hall for donuts.  You're trying as hard as you can to sit still and pay attention, but you can't seem to keep your feet from dancing around, and you're excitedly looking back and forth to see if your sisters are as amped up as you are for D-O-N-U-T-S!  The "donut" in this case, was the celebration that followed mass, and it was as fun and delightful as we had anticipated.

There will surely be more pictures that follow (especially if my cousin Aaron was taking shots w/his camera...sooo talented), but this one that I saw today is one of my favorites.  My godmother, Aunt B, and my little angel, Alice:

 The Garden Still Grows.