Excuse the messy shirt and dirty face...but we have a tooth! Soren's first pearly white came in on my birthday, May 19, at 9.5 months old. He's ahead of the game already! Nolan's first tooth didn't come in til 16.5 months. Watch out, Big Brother, I'm gonna beat you in the tooth game!
Friday, May 28, 2010
Tooth Proof
Excuse the messy shirt and dirty face...but we have a tooth! Soren's first pearly white came in on my birthday, May 19, at 9.5 months old. He's ahead of the game already! Nolan's first tooth didn't come in til 16.5 months. Watch out, Big Brother, I'm gonna beat you in the tooth game!
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Keep On Truckin'
I drove 400 miles on the I-5 today. We left our house before sunup (at 5am on the dot) and arrived in the OC at 12:18pm. Not bad, considering I had two little people in tow and we stopped twice. I have always been an "inquisitive driver" (and passenger, for that matter) and my vivid imagination is always concocting scenarios of where the other people on the road are headed, what they do for a living, where they live, what they ate for breakfast etc. But I'm most intrigued with the truckers. Where are they going? Did they sleep in their cab last night? What do they do to keep themselves awake? Do they listen to music or audio books? What's it like to eat at a truck stop? Are they desperately lonely or is there a "family of truckers" they belong to? All I know is that I couldn't do what they do for a variety of reasons. The most obvious one...I couldn't stand driving so darn slow! My friend Priscilla told me not long ago that as a little girl she really really wanted to be a truck driver when she grew up. I think it's hilarious and wonder what the appeal was. As I sped past hundreds of trucks today I made up many stories in my head...not one of which included Priscilla. I just can't picture it. She'd be the cutest truck driver ever...but whatever.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
I Should Be Fixing Dinner But...
I committed to this whole "blog for 14 days straight" thing. So here's a bunch of randomness...
- Dinner is actually in the crock pot so I don't need to exactly fix it. Scalloped potatoes and sausage. Yum!
- Nolan has a few new phrases that are cracking me up. My favorites are "Wait your turn!" and "Let go!"
- I have made a very last minute decision to drive to OC for Memorial Day weekend. One of my BFFs since high school is in town from Atlanta visiting her extended family. We haven't seen each other for 3 years! We haven't met each other's youngest kids! I am SO excited!
- Today was a much better day than yesterday. And I haven't even had any chocolate.
- I am sick to death of all this rain! It should be sunny and 85 by now. It's the end of May! Memorial Day weekend is right around the corner. It's the unofficial start of summer...and yet rain is in the forecast. Again. Blech!
- Note to self...get vacuum serviced soon. It doesn't suck...so it really sucks. Get it?
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Because Cookies Are Cheaper Than Therapy
And much more enjoyable.
Today started off on the wrong side of the tracks. I had a fitful night's sleep due to allergies that kept me sneezing and rubbing my swollen eyes for most of the night. At about 4:30 I succumbed to the peace that only Benadryl can bring, but it was short lived due to a short person (who shall remain nameless) who routinely gives me a 6:30am wake up call. In a haze I stumbled out of bed stuffed up like a Thanksgiving turkey and fed my hungry babe. Then I laid on the couch with said babe in my arms, turned on the ever-blessed Nemo, and drifted til 7:15 when another short person demanded waffles. Waffles were made and consumed and this taller short person played happily until it was time to get ready for school.
Nolan hates Tuesdays because he doesn't get to ride the bus in the morning. His bus driver Teri has high schoolers to transport on Tuesday in addition to her preschool crowd so she would have to pick Nolan up at 8am instead of 8:50. To have Nolan ready for pick up by 8am would require a supernatural act so I drive him to school in the car on Tuesday mornings. He HATES this. He cries, doesn't want to get dressed, won't open his mouth to brush his teeth, demands Miss Teri and shuns me. He is just a general pain in the you-know-what on Tuesday mornings. This morning was especially painful since my normally delightful Soren decided to throw a tantrum at the same time.
Mommy is sick. Mommy has had about 3 hours of sleep. Mommy is hormonal. Mommy yelled alot. Mommy was physically forceful with the taller short person and scared him. Mommy went a bit Mommy Dearest this morning.
After dropping Nolan off at school (where I profusely apologized to him for not being a very good Mommy) I came home and napped when Soren napped. A bit of sleep can work wonders. It was good. Very good. It helped clear my thoughts and pushed me to begin thinking rationally again and got me out of Mommy Dearest mode. But my mind churned all day about how I had wounded my child's spirit. My sweet little boy who has trouble processing change. How can I fix this awful thing that I've done?
After school we came home and baked cookies and it was as if the bad day just melted into ooey gooey chocolate deliciousness. Cookies have magical power in my house. They can assuage the guilt, make my little one smile like nothing else, and send love straight from the heart to the tummy. Much cheaper...and better...than therapy.
Today started off on the wrong side of the tracks. I had a fitful night's sleep due to allergies that kept me sneezing and rubbing my swollen eyes for most of the night. At about 4:30 I succumbed to the peace that only Benadryl can bring, but it was short lived due to a short person (who shall remain nameless) who routinely gives me a 6:30am wake up call. In a haze I stumbled out of bed stuffed up like a Thanksgiving turkey and fed my hungry babe. Then I laid on the couch with said babe in my arms, turned on the ever-blessed Nemo, and drifted til 7:15 when another short person demanded waffles. Waffles were made and consumed and this taller short person played happily until it was time to get ready for school.
Nolan hates Tuesdays because he doesn't get to ride the bus in the morning. His bus driver Teri has high schoolers to transport on Tuesday in addition to her preschool crowd so she would have to pick Nolan up at 8am instead of 8:50. To have Nolan ready for pick up by 8am would require a supernatural act so I drive him to school in the car on Tuesday mornings. He HATES this. He cries, doesn't want to get dressed, won't open his mouth to brush his teeth, demands Miss Teri and shuns me. He is just a general pain in the you-know-what on Tuesday mornings. This morning was especially painful since my normally delightful Soren decided to throw a tantrum at the same time.
Mommy is sick. Mommy has had about 3 hours of sleep. Mommy is hormonal. Mommy yelled alot. Mommy was physically forceful with the taller short person and scared him. Mommy went a bit Mommy Dearest this morning.
After dropping Nolan off at school (where I profusely apologized to him for not being a very good Mommy) I came home and napped when Soren napped. A bit of sleep can work wonders. It was good. Very good. It helped clear my thoughts and pushed me to begin thinking rationally again and got me out of Mommy Dearest mode. But my mind churned all day about how I had wounded my child's spirit. My sweet little boy who has trouble processing change. How can I fix this awful thing that I've done?
After school we came home and baked cookies and it was as if the bad day just melted into ooey gooey chocolate deliciousness. Cookies have magical power in my house. They can assuage the guilt, make my little one smile like nothing else, and send love straight from the heart to the tummy. Much cheaper...and better...than therapy.
I Don't Know How They Do It
There are a dozen or so blogs that I try to read on a daily basis. Most of the these bloggers are moms like me who blog every single day and at minimum five times a week. How in the world is there that much to say? I can scarcely think of anything noteworthy once or twice a month. The funny thing is, these bloggers that I enjoy so much don't have all that much to say either, when it comes right down to it! It's just everyday life from their perspective, yet I somehow am drawn in. Cyberspace is a crazy CRAZY place. I highly doubt that I'll ever meet many (if any!) of these people but I feel like I kinda-sorta know them. They seem real, transparent, likable and down to earth in real life. (Of course I'm not naive enough to think that everyone's telling the truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God! No doubt there are a billion blogger "personas" out there!) Nonetheless, these gals seem like the kind of gals I want to sit and have coffee with and laugh over the silly things our kids do and say. It's strange...and a bit creepy. Sometimes I feel like a stalker, but I'm really not. Promise.
And although these bloggers seem friendly enough I confess that they also intimidate the heck out of me. Could I ever have a "following" like some of these gals do? Not that I particularly want a following, it just would be nice to know that there are people out there who are truly interested enough in my family's life that they'd want to "check in" and see how we're faring. My life is a rather ordinary life, nothing fancy or full of jet-setting adventures...but it's my life nonetheless. It's a life that I love and a life that I am blessed to live. I don't seek the "approval" of others when I write on my blog, nor am I living vicariously through other people's lives when I read blogs. More than anything, blogging is one of the many wacky ways I feel connected to something bigger than myself.
So I'm going to give myself a little blogging challenge...just for grins. I'm going to commit to blogging for 14 days straight. I am hoping that this challenge will push me to think about my life in a different light. It will help me be bold. It will help me, hopefully, be a little more transparent and not so self-conscious. So if the next few entries make little to no sense, flow haphazardly in a disaster of stream of consciousness, or are full of nothing...it's because they are. Let the experiment commence.
And although these bloggers seem friendly enough I confess that they also intimidate the heck out of me. Could I ever have a "following" like some of these gals do? Not that I particularly want a following, it just would be nice to know that there are people out there who are truly interested enough in my family's life that they'd want to "check in" and see how we're faring. My life is a rather ordinary life, nothing fancy or full of jet-setting adventures...but it's my life nonetheless. It's a life that I love and a life that I am blessed to live. I don't seek the "approval" of others when I write on my blog, nor am I living vicariously through other people's lives when I read blogs. More than anything, blogging is one of the many wacky ways I feel connected to something bigger than myself.
So I'm going to give myself a little blogging challenge...just for grins. I'm going to commit to blogging for 14 days straight. I am hoping that this challenge will push me to think about my life in a different light. It will help me be bold. It will help me, hopefully, be a little more transparent and not so self-conscious. So if the next few entries make little to no sense, flow haphazardly in a disaster of stream of consciousness, or are full of nothing...it's because they are. Let the experiment commence.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Jumpstart My Heart
Being a parent is one of the most rewarding yet downright terrifying things I have ever set forth upon. In the past couple of months my children's lives have flashed before my eyes not once, not twice, but three times! If I think about what could have been my blood courses through my veins at warp speed and I start spinning into panic. When I think about what was I am more sure than ever that there is an ever-present huge God who loves us more than we can fathom and takes care of us in His perfect way.
Unfortunately, Nolan inherited the klutz gene from me. I have two left feet, poor balance and even worse hand-eye coordination. He is aware that the stairs can trip him up and is quite careful most of the time. Except for that day. The day I watched my little boy fall head over heels down our entire flight of thirteen stairs, landing in a crumpled heap at the bottom. I don't know what was worse, seeing him immobile for just a split second on the landing or the fear in his eyes and the guttural howl that came from his throat as he tumbled...and not being able to do a darn thing from my vantage point. I thought for sure he had broken his neck, or his arm at best. Fortunately, God was merciful and Nolan came away from the ordeal without a scratch or bruise.
A few short weeks later Nolan was completely unaware that his life was hanging in the balance, but I have had nightmares frequently ever since. During the week of parent-teacher conferences school let out early for the older kids, but Nolan's class and the other special ed classes dismissed at their regular time. Because there was very little traffic and very few kids at dismissal time a teenager, busy texting on her phone and driving 40 miles an hour in a normally busy school zone, zoomed around the corner and swerved toward the boys and I as we were stepping off the sidewalk to cross the street. Nolan was holding the stroller as he always does, but he was one step ahead of me...and less than a foot away from the speeding car. If I hadn't reigned him in he would have been hit. Oh yeah...the teenager was none the wiser and I was shaking so badly that I didn't have the wits about me to take down her license plate.
And then last night baby Soren almost choked to death on a sticker he found on the floor. I had to fish it out of his throat and wait what seemed like an eternity for him to start breathing in a regular pattern again. As he was straining to breathe I prayed that he'd vomit up whatever was causing the obstruction. He did, with gusto, and I was never so happy to be covered in puke.
Thank You, Lord, for protecting these children. You are the only defibrillator I want and need.
Unfortunately, Nolan inherited the klutz gene from me. I have two left feet, poor balance and even worse hand-eye coordination. He is aware that the stairs can trip him up and is quite careful most of the time. Except for that day. The day I watched my little boy fall head over heels down our entire flight of thirteen stairs, landing in a crumpled heap at the bottom. I don't know what was worse, seeing him immobile for just a split second on the landing or the fear in his eyes and the guttural howl that came from his throat as he tumbled...and not being able to do a darn thing from my vantage point. I thought for sure he had broken his neck, or his arm at best. Fortunately, God was merciful and Nolan came away from the ordeal without a scratch or bruise.
A few short weeks later Nolan was completely unaware that his life was hanging in the balance, but I have had nightmares frequently ever since. During the week of parent-teacher conferences school let out early for the older kids, but Nolan's class and the other special ed classes dismissed at their regular time. Because there was very little traffic and very few kids at dismissal time a teenager, busy texting on her phone and driving 40 miles an hour in a normally busy school zone, zoomed around the corner and swerved toward the boys and I as we were stepping off the sidewalk to cross the street. Nolan was holding the stroller as he always does, but he was one step ahead of me...and less than a foot away from the speeding car. If I hadn't reigned him in he would have been hit. Oh yeah...the teenager was none the wiser and I was shaking so badly that I didn't have the wits about me to take down her license plate.
And then last night baby Soren almost choked to death on a sticker he found on the floor. I had to fish it out of his throat and wait what seemed like an eternity for him to start breathing in a regular pattern again. As he was straining to breathe I prayed that he'd vomit up whatever was causing the obstruction. He did, with gusto, and I was never so happy to be covered in puke.
Thank You, Lord, for protecting these children. You are the only defibrillator I want and need.
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