Good News

Good news comes in black, white and stainless steel.

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Thanks, Mom and Dad! (And Dean. And Jaime.)

Cars

It's been a long day that started early even while my children slept. The contractor who was supposed to come this morning and install my new dishwasher (which is sitting in a giant box in my living room next to a friend's 4 giant boxes of t-shirts, thus requiring that the title of "living room" be replaced by "storage area") called at 7:40am to tell me that 2 of his guys called out sick so he had to reschedule me. (Apparently my dishwasher issue is deemed significantly less important than someone else's problem. Hmph. I spent most of last night singing while I cleaned up the dinner mess, thrilled that it might be the last time I have to spend 1 1/2 hours doing dishes until Thanksgiving.) I answered the speaker phone in a monotone, talked to him briefly and returned to bed, spirits crushed. No dishwasher until Tuesday. Why bother getting out of bed? What could I have to look forward to?

I tried unsuccessfully to fall back into the blissful ignorance of sleep, but 20 minutes later, Kindred appeared in the room needing help with his pants. He'd gone to sleep in his undies last night, no accidents, yet he still doesn't have the energy to yank his pants back up over his tush during sleepy hours. I though getting rid of the pull-up would eliminate that problem, but it remains. I helped him while Michael dragged his own self out of bed for the early morning shift. I got a little extra sleep but had dreams to weird to even think about.

Elias drove me crazy all day. I called him Jekyl. He was so manic. I think he's getting sick. Sneezing and snotting all day. When I put him down for his nap, I took Kindred downstairs to the basement to watch a little more of his new Cars movie. We'd only watched 15 minutes of it at a time, because it's 116 minutes long! A children's movie that's nearly 2 hours?? Anyway, we got sucked in to the storyline and ended up watching the whole final hour. But Kindred's reaction to the movie, at least parts of it, stunned me. I'll try not to spoil the plot for those of you who have not seen it, but I have to tell you what happened.

We were sitting next to each other on the couch snuggled under the blanket for warmth. (It's cold in the basement.) Every couple of minutes I would look over at Kindred to make sure he was following that story or to see his reaction to something. More than once, I noticed in my glance that his eyes were open really wide and filled with tears, but the scene we were watching was neither sad or scary, at least not to me.

The first time I asked him what was wrong, it was during a part where we are getting to know the main character, Lightning Mcqueen. He is arrogant and obnoxious, and he turns everyone off. He was making silly requests and demands to some other characters and they were basically telling him where to go, and he was getting mad. Kindred was so so sad.

"He doesn't have any friends," he squeaked, wiping away a tear that had dropped onto his cheek.

The other part where he cried was a fairly harmless scene that was intended to be hilariously funny, but Kindred missed the humor. He was, once again, very worried about the car's feelings as he was being chased and getting tangled up in everything he got near.

Kindred is such a sensitive little boy. Don't get me wrong, he can be a maniac sometimes too, and mean and not sensitive at all. But I like to remember the good stories, not the ugly ones. Usually. I say this lest you think I have some angelic being for a child who is only witty and cute and wonderful. He is all of those things, but he is, after all, still a child.

(I have to add that the funniest part of the movie for me is during the credits. I was laughing and laughing at something Mack was saying, and Kindred wanted to know "What's so funny and making you laugh, Mama?" like he wanted to join in the fun but I just couldn't explain it at all. There was simply no way for him to understand. I wanted him to laugh too, but.... )

A First Snow in February?

Here are the "snow day" shots I'm sure you've all been longing for.

Elias was dressed to go out long before the rest of us were. We have to keep the deadbolt locked in the front door or else he lets himself out now. (Only a leetle scary, eh?) So he would stand by the door and yell.

I only got pictures of Kindred's back, although he looked so grown up in his ski pants and jacket -- given to us by our neighbor.

Daddy shoveled for like, a minute, and then took off with the boys in the wagon to the park. (I finished the sidewalk.)

Why was daddy going to the park? Well, to gather firewood, of course, for his new chiminea. Here are the very tired boys warming up around the new stove on the front porch. They soon all came in for hot (warm) chocolate.

Wrestlemania Showcase

I Took My 3 Year Old to the Toy Store

We didn't go to just any toy store. We went to a BIG one. At nap time. It was, believe it or not, the first time I had ever taken him in to such a place as this. I thought I was prepared for what could happen. I can say I was surprised about what did happen. Here's the story.

Kindred has been doing a fabulous job using the potty. He often elects to use the "big potty" in our bathroom over the "little potty". (I'm actually wondering if this has anything to do with the fact that Elias seems like competition now when he yells "Pee!" and sits on the little potty and when I take his diaper off he actually is usually successful. I think Kindred feels like he has to top that.) Kindred hasn't had an accident at all since last Friday when we went to the Please Touch Museum. (Yep, peed on the museum floor. He was playing with blocks, stood and announced, "I'm peein'!" Then he was standing in a puddle on the carpeting. Staff didn't sweat it at all, but I felt a little sheepish.) Otherwise, he's really been turning into quite a "potty person" as he calls it. We keep a sticker chart for him, and he fills it. So his reward is some sort of special treat. Last reward was chocolate ice cream even if he didn't finish dinner. This reward he wanted to buy something. So I found an old ToyzRUs gift card from one of their birthdays and decided that's where we could go.

I put a bug in his ear that he might need a car transporter since he has so many of Michael's old matchbox cars now. He responded well to this idea and that's what he went to look for.

When we got into the car, he informed me of 2 things. One, that he wanted to use Elias' car seat because it was safer. And two, that he would be going to sleep on the way to the toy store. He didn't actually sleep, although he was pretty quiet, and only started getting excited when we were nearly at the store.

We got out of the car and entered the jam-packed-with-plastic-noisy-things-heaven, hand in hand. Kindred smiled when we got inside, and immediately wanted to know where the car transporters were. We headed to the "Cars & Trucks" aisle prominently marked to the left. We walked up 2 aisles before we found what we were looking for. I braced for the whining and pleading to start when we began venturing down the section filled with construction sets, fire trucks and garbage trucks. Kindred was indeed very excited. He pulled a box carefully off the shelf and pointed out all of the really cool stuff he saw inside. "Look it's a crane! A big big crane! And here's a digger. And a bulldozer, Mommy! Can you make it go?" I would see if there were lights I could turn on, noises I could get the things to make, levers to pull that would make the big rigs go. And after a few minutes of oooo-ing and ahhhh-ing, Kindred placed the box carefully back up on the shelf where he found it and moved to the next amazing discovery.

This same sequence happened again. And again. And again. When we finally found a car transporter, he squealed with delight, put it aside, and kept looking around. At one point, he told me he had to pee, and he inquired with a staff person about where he could find a bathroom. Coming out of the bathroom, I decided that since his car transporter was not very expensive that he could pick out one more thing to buy. I expected him to ask for one of the toys he had been more excited about during his earlier exploration. Instead, he found a dinky flatbed truck with a helicopter in its tow.

"Can I have this, Mama?" he asked politely.

I was skeptical. Couldn't he have found something a little more, well, elaborate? This was a trip for a special treat, after all. So I noticed a whole set of trucks behind him.

"Kindred look at this! It's a fire truck and an ambulance and a helicopter! Wow! Wouldn't ya like that instead?" He paused and considered. Then I spotted another set. "Or look at this one! It has a rescue truck, a tow truck and a garbage truck!"

I lined to three choices up on the shelf, next to each other. It was strange how, because of his amazingly patient and downright delightful behavior, I felt like I wanted to buy him everything in the place. I wanted to shower him with gifts. I sternly and silently talked sense into myself of course, but I was taken aback by my willingness to get sucked into this culture of buying stuff = love. Anyway, so here he is, looking over his three choices while I'm chanting "Ton-ka, ton-ka" under my breath. He picks up the fire truck set by its handle and looks at me. "Can I get this one too?"

"Yes! You can get that and the car transporter."

"And the helicopter truck?"

"No, only two."

He puts the set back on the shelf and picks up the little helicopter truck that I thought had been banished to the Land of Unwanted and Forgotten Toys. "I want this one." I was overruled. I smiled, and we went to check out.

Up at the counter, the manager standing behind the cashier kept trying to sell me more stuff. This movie's discounted, reserve your copy of this, do you want to get one of these-- buy one get one free? No. No. No. No. No, thank you. By the time he walked away, the cashier was starting to ask me if I wanted to open a charge account, but before she was even done, knowing my answer already, she apologized for nagging me. Then she and Kindred engaged in conversation. "What's you name?"s and other pleasantries were exchanged. Kindred told her he was buying a special treat because he peed and pooped in the potty and she jumped up and down with excitement for him. She was wearing a brace on her wrist and he asked her, very concerned, if she had cut herself. She explained that the doctor had given her the brace to wear at work and it helped her arm not hurt so badly. Kindred seemed relieved that she was not in pain, and they shook hands and we left. (On the way out the door, the darn manager tried to sell me a sled. You would think he worked on commission.)

It was the most peaceful trip to the toy store with my 3 year old I could have ever wished for. I was so peaceful when we left that I didn't even get too worked up that someone had parked inches from the side of my car. Kindred felt peaceful too, because he fell right to sleep on the way home, cradling his new and wonderful helicopter truck gently in his relaxed hands. It was a good trip.

Precious Moments - not the knicknacks

There are those moments that happen in your day, in your life, that you never want to forget. I suppose I have a lot of those. I'm going to share a few, starting with what happened just a few minutes ago.

It is 12:12am. (No, I don't sleep. My eyelid has been twitching, which is very telling. But when the work and the leisure time for the day starts around 9pm, it's impossible to consider bed before 12am.) Anyway, so it's late. I'm working in the office/ guest room trying to get some paperwork in order, search for hidden tax documents, etc., and listening to the latest Podcast of "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me...", when I hear a sad cry from the boys' room. Last night the sad cry happened because Kindred had dropped Lamby, and since the floor is so much farther away than before, he just cries instead of getting out of bed to replace Lamby and go back to sleep. I suspected that was the same reason for the cry and entered their room immediately to rectify the situation quickly and quietly.

What I found when I opened the door was a little boy standing next to his big big boy bed, crying, bewildered, holding out his left hand. When I knelt and asked him what was wrong, he mumbled something about his hand then cried again and held tightly to my neck. I felt his hand and it was quite wet, like he'd been drooling on it. A lot.... Then I noticed his sweatpants were only halfway up and his potty was open. He said again, and I understood this time, "I peeeed on my haaaand. Waaaahhhhhhhh."

The poor, wonderful child. In his attempt to wake up with a dry diaper, he must've not quite made it all the way to sitting on the potty in his sleepy delirium, and his little hand and his sweatpants caught the brunt of the minor disaster. His best intentions foiled, his spirit fallen, and his goal unmet. All of this at an hour that no child can really process anything and can only respond by crying in a soft and very confused way.

I dried his leg and changed his pants while he sat on his bed. I stroked his soft cheek and told him how proud I was of him for trying, and I tried to treat this much more as a triumphant moment than a defeat, but he wasn't having it. When he laid back down and I covered him back up, he held out his hand again. Apparently I had not sufficiently dried his fingers. And with one more sad sigh, Kindred closed his eyes and surrendered to sleep.

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Elias really enjoys blowing his nose, and gets upset if you don't give him the opportunity to do so when there is a tissue or a hanky (or a bib) nearby. He will even do it himself. Recently when he had a bout of the sniffles, he was playing in the playroom and he sneezed loudly. He immediately appeared in the doorway, smiling slightly, boogies think on his upper lip, marching intentionally over to Michael who was waiting with a tissue. Elias dutifully stood, face tipped upward, to receive his wiping, to blow customarily, and turn and scoot back to the fire engine waiting for him to return. He did this over and over again.

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Kindred's phrase to begin a race: "Have your maaaarch! And set! GO!"

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Elias has really started to try his hand, er, at talking. His most clear words right now, besides to usual Mommy Daddy Bye Poppop, include: Shoe, want that, on, juice, please, all done, down. But he has mastered some names too. The most frequent name that comes out of his mouth these days: In-ee-ahh. India. We had a good friend and Elias' namesake here this weekend to stay with us. Elias doesn't understand that he's been named after Brian Lewis and his family, but I think he must've sensed there was a connection between them. He barely let Brian out of his sight, and he would actually reject his parents in favor of being in Brian's arms. He could say a version of "Brian" but much preferred the easier nickname he created: "Dee."

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The boys, my boys, have started wrestling each other. (I find all of this fitting and yet slightly bizarre.) They take great delight in starting at opposite sides of a room and running towards the middle where they collide bellies and fall to the ground like Sumo wrestlers, laughing uproariously. Or one will sneak up on the other at some random moment and just tackle him. I know this is going to result someday in perhaps a more than minor injury, and it confuses my sensibilities that my mellow Kindred would participate in such an activity and Elias wouldn't be getting himself hurt during every moment of participation. But I take comfort in Lora Lynn's reports of her own brood of boys and try to relax a little while watching my own brood explore new limits and have a great time with each other.

Never Was There a More Attractive Gathering

This past weekend, many gathered togather to celebrate family and friendship, and I was more than privileged to see the following group of young people together in our midst:

Eleanor

Alexa, India and Moriah

The Boyz

Miranda

Clara

Justice was there as well, but shockingly, he is the only one of all of them that doesn't blog. I can't find a picture of him anywhere on the web. Trust me though, he's real cute too.

This is an amazing group of children and I hope that we are able to help them as parents to grow up together and enjoy each other's company (and toys and books and crayons and movies) for many many years to come.

Lest we get too optimistic...

Tonight did not go as smoothly.

After pinning the children down to shove their PJ's on their limbs and torso, it was another hour before they were calm and quiet. Kindred's latest favorite response to anything and everything is, unsurprisingly,

"NO!!"

Big shocker, eh? So when I said, "Boys it's time to pick out your bedtime book," and Kindred yelled, "No!", I took that as the opportunity to take him seriously. I refused to let him pick out a bedtime book when he realized what he'd protested and tried to convince me he hadn't actually meant "no." Tough one, kid. You gotta live with your obstinance sometimes. Hmph. Then of course the ruckus that was expected last night after lights-out happened in full force tonight. Books were thrown in with Elias, bed was exited a number of times, big poopies appeared in diapers. But now, at last, I have quiet. I had to ignore the cries of "Mommy mooooommmmyyyyy mooooooooommmmmmmmmmmy!" for nearly 10 minutes, but they have since ceased and I am off duty and simply on-call. Big breaths.

But let's not end on a sour note.

It was lunchtime. Kindred was eating PB&J. He kept taking long distracted pauses between bites. At one point I said to him while my back was turned towards the sink, "Kindred, I want you to eat your sandwich," to which he replied, "I don't want to eat my sandwich. I want to wiggle." And then, even though he didn't think I was watching, he wiggled, and almost fell out of his chair. I had to bite the dish towel to keep myself from laughing out loud.

When Elias woke up, he needed a diaper change, so I ordered him to the couch so that I could go upstairs and get the necessities. I found him like this when I was coming back down the stairs:

The Start of a New Era

Cheers! and..., sigh.

It took him no time to fall asleep tonight. I was prepped for the ruckus and the inevitable jumping and flopping, but it didn't happen. Silence abounds.
And he hasn't had an accident or a diaper on in a few days, and tonight he's sleeping in a pull-up so that he can pee in his potty when he wakes up in the morning. He's also officially over the underwear resistance. I couldn't peel it off his body without a fight tonight. (Guess I need to do laundry. He only has 3 pair.)

This growing up business. Nothing could be more bittersweet.

Matchmaker

Thanks to Grammie and Pappap, the boys have their first matching outfit.

This is Kindred yelling "Smoosh, smoosh!" and backing Elias into the wall.

Elias survived the smooshing.

Elias' favorite part of the outfit is the pockets. He is so intrigued by them.

The Wake-Up Call

Today I got to sleep in (praise ya, Jesus) and around 10am, Kindred came up to call me to wake up.

(Don't think I'd been asleep until 10am. Kindred came into our room to snuggle and chat at 6am and Michael didn't leave with him until Elias had also woken and was singing at 7:30am, so I wouldn't say I got a solid sleeping-in. What I did get was wonderful, though.)

In any case, Kindred came up and informed me that it was "Time to get up, Mama! It's eight-firty-sock," he said.

(He also told me he is wearing his underwear today!)

The Afterbath

My children really enjoy their baths. It's a pity they don't get them as often as they would like. But they really really enjoy afterbath. They run around like nuts after each other with their towels on their heads, and they get instantly miffed if one of their towels falls off of their heads. They bring it to me, whining (or grunting "Auhhn! Auhhn!") so that I will replace it and the chase can resume. This whole scene cracks me up every time, until I have to begin my own tackling so that PJ's can be submitted to. They really don't like that part. Just call me "Fun wrecker."






Oh, and just to put it on the record, Elias peed and pooped in the little potty tonight. Yes, I said Elias.

Kindred is three years old.

You know that first scene in City*Slickers? The one where Billy Crystal's character is awakened by the phone ringing somewhere around 4am. It's his mother calling because it is his birthday, and because she remembers the very minute he was born, she calls every year on that exact minute to (animatedly) tell him the story about his birth and how happy she is that he came into her life. He has the story memorized and silently mouths it as she tells it, clearly tired and annoyed but resigned to the fact that it happens, and will happen every year.

Sometimes I think I'm going to be that mom.

I know that Kindred deserves highest honors on his birthday because it's his special day, the day to celebrate his life and the child he has become. But to me, his birthday will always be partly about me, too. On his special day, I remember what I was doing one, two, three years ago at 9:12pm, Feb 3. And I wonder if when he gets older, I will subject him to the story of his birth, in full detail and repeated in the same voice and cadence year after year until he's memorized it. I'm good at that sort of thing. I know it's silly, but shouldn't moms get a small special treat on their kids birthdays? After all, if it weren't for us....

But anyway, enough about me on my son's special day. Here are some pictures from the little party we had for him.

He wanted a fire truck cake. So I went with that theme and did my best.

I'm pretty sure he liked it.

Kindred ate the back of the fire truck, and Elias (vigorously) ate the ladder. It was plain cake with black icing. When he was finished, someone (Robb) said he looked like he was playing the part of the fireman.

He had a few friends over, and as you can see, playroom pictures only show the backs and tops of children's heads.

Other adults came too, but I didn't get many pictures of them. It was really nice to have a gathering of friends and family, and I think Kindred really enjoyed himself. He just glows when people sing happy birthday to him. When people would say, "Happy Birthday, Kindred!" he would say, "Happy birthday to you!" all smiles.


**And then the birthday was topped off by a fantastic win by Dada and PopPop's favorite team! What a great birthday!