I recently read a story that discussed the technological savvy of the children who are a few years younger than the current Millennial Generation. Some researchers are tentatively calling them the iGeneration, since they have literally never known a time in which there was no instant messaging, no email, no Internet, etc.
I think William is a little too young to be considered part of the iGeneration, at least officially. But in spirit, he is right there. We have regular tussles over who gets to use the iPod Touch each morning. I like to check email and the weather after I wake up, but he's right there with his hand out. He wants to check the weather too--and watch a few scenes of either "Monsters Inc" or "Wall-E," both of which are loaded onto the device. Or listen to some music. Or play the Star Wars trench run game that his daddy downloaded for himself to play but which has captivated William.
And of course, I think I've already mentioned that William regularly speaks to his grandparents via Skype on the computer. He knows how to navigate the software, adjust the setting so that the video feed works, and make and end calls.
So it should come as no surprise to any of us, I guess, that today William informed me that he and his friends have a website for their favorite playground game, which they call "Bad Guys." William claims that he created the website. "There are lots of different episodes and videos," he tells me. "There's a game called Capture the Treasure." According to my son, there is a castle on the playground, and that's where the Bad Guys keep their computer, and of course, that's where the Bad Guys website is. Also, there are links to the PBS Kids websites, seeing as how William is a big fan of many of those already and likes to log onto the computer (by himself, natch) and play them. So I think I know where the Bad Guys website idea came from.
Geez. And when I was 3, the most technologically complex thing in our whole house was probably our rotary dial phone.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Reserved for a reason
I hope there is a special place in hell for the middle-aged white guy who flipped me off in the parking lot today at the mall.
He pulled into the vacant Expectant Mothers parking spot--which is very CLEARLY MARKED as being for expectant mothers or mothers of new babies--right as I turned into that row. As he hoppped athletically out of his sedan, I glared at him from inside the minivan and pointed to the sign. He turned around, saw the sign, and to his credit, got back in his car and pulled out of the spot. I looped around and took the spot. As I passed him, I nodded in thanks and he flipped me off. Jerk. One day, he'll have some knee or back injury and he'll want a close parking spot, and hopefully someone will be there to prevent him from getting one.
Grrr. Do NOT take the pregnant lady parking space from the pregnant lady who is a billion weeks pregnant, grouchy and can barely walk. At lunchtime. There are a few kinds of people that you don't want to mess with, and right now, I am one of them. And I weigh as much as a couple of them. Those spots are reserved for a good reason. I don't know why people insist on ignoring them when they are 1) not pregnant and 2) able-bodied. I can't decide which group of people annoys me the most when they take the pregnant lady spot: men in general (and it's never elderly men who might genuinely have trouble walking or might not have seen the reserved sign), teenagers, or well-to-do older women in luxury cars. I've seen all three of them do it. If they're not lugging around at least an extra 20 pounds directly on top of their bladder, then they can't understand why they need to back off.
Okay, rant over. Thank you for listening.
He pulled into the vacant Expectant Mothers parking spot--which is very CLEARLY MARKED as being for expectant mothers or mothers of new babies--right as I turned into that row. As he hoppped athletically out of his sedan, I glared at him from inside the minivan and pointed to the sign. He turned around, saw the sign, and to his credit, got back in his car and pulled out of the spot. I looped around and took the spot. As I passed him, I nodded in thanks and he flipped me off. Jerk. One day, he'll have some knee or back injury and he'll want a close parking spot, and hopefully someone will be there to prevent him from getting one.
Grrr. Do NOT take the pregnant lady parking space from the pregnant lady who is a billion weeks pregnant, grouchy and can barely walk. At lunchtime. There are a few kinds of people that you don't want to mess with, and right now, I am one of them. And I weigh as much as a couple of them. Those spots are reserved for a good reason. I don't know why people insist on ignoring them when they are 1) not pregnant and 2) able-bodied. I can't decide which group of people annoys me the most when they take the pregnant lady spot: men in general (and it's never elderly men who might genuinely have trouble walking or might not have seen the reserved sign), teenagers, or well-to-do older women in luxury cars. I've seen all three of them do it. If they're not lugging around at least an extra 20 pounds directly on top of their bladder, then they can't understand why they need to back off.
Okay, rant over. Thank you for listening.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Now, we wait
I think I mentioned...or maybe I didn't...that our friends Jaclyn and Bruce helped us clear out more of the office last weekend and move the crib over from William's room. And just to be clear, people who are willing to help you disassemble and reassemble a crib all in one day? They're real friends.
William has picked out a few things and put them in the crib for his brother. I didn't realize that he'd done that, so I moved the little stuffed giraffe lovey back to his room, where it came from, only to find it in there again a few hours later. He explained that he was giving it to Baby Brother. He also carefully selected a baby blanket with frogs on it from the stash of his old blankets in the crib drawer and tossed it into the crib, too. Like I said, he's nesting.
So even if we have nothing else done, we have the crib set up and ready to go. And Shab and Santi, bless them, brought over their bassinette for us to use, too, so we even have a place for Baby Brother to sleep until we're ready to move him into his own room. Whenever that will be. The rest of the nursery can wait 'til we all have more energy.
Several friends have generously volunteered to take William for a night or two when I do go into labor, and for that, I am deeply, profoundly grateful. We've talked about how he's going to go have a sleepover with one of Mommy and Daddy's friends while we're at the hospital and tried to assuage his anxiety over that. I've notified his preschool that there may be someone else picking him up and dropping him off in the near future. And I've packed his bag, so he should be ready to go. My bag, of course, has been ready for the hospital, so I decided to go ahead and pack a bag for David, too (he said I packed him an awful lot of underpants, but what can I say, I'm used to packing for myself and a three-year-old, and that's the sort of thing you can never really have enough of. Underwear and socks.). The camera is ready, with the battery charged.
So right now, Baby Brother is in the proverbial driver's seat. All the decisions are up to him now. Now we wait. William keeps asking things like, "Is the baby going to come today?" and we keep having to say, "Well...we don't know." Not exactly the most satisfying answer, I know. Since I'm a big believer in Murphy's Law, I fully expect there to be a long wait now because we are, at last, somewhat reasonably prepared. My OB and her nurse aren't so convinced, given that I was still 4 cm dilated at yesterday's appointment but also 80 percent effaced. As the nurse said, that's about as close to being in labor as you can get without actually being in labor. Yikes.
William has picked out a few things and put them in the crib for his brother. I didn't realize that he'd done that, so I moved the little stuffed giraffe lovey back to his room, where it came from, only to find it in there again a few hours later. He explained that he was giving it to Baby Brother. He also carefully selected a baby blanket with frogs on it from the stash of his old blankets in the crib drawer and tossed it into the crib, too. Like I said, he's nesting.
So even if we have nothing else done, we have the crib set up and ready to go. And Shab and Santi, bless them, brought over their bassinette for us to use, too, so we even have a place for Baby Brother to sleep until we're ready to move him into his own room. Whenever that will be. The rest of the nursery can wait 'til we all have more energy.
Several friends have generously volunteered to take William for a night or two when I do go into labor, and for that, I am deeply, profoundly grateful. We've talked about how he's going to go have a sleepover with one of Mommy and Daddy's friends while we're at the hospital and tried to assuage his anxiety over that. I've notified his preschool that there may be someone else picking him up and dropping him off in the near future. And I've packed his bag, so he should be ready to go. My bag, of course, has been ready for the hospital, so I decided to go ahead and pack a bag for David, too (he said I packed him an awful lot of underpants, but what can I say, I'm used to packing for myself and a three-year-old, and that's the sort of thing you can never really have enough of. Underwear and socks.). The camera is ready, with the battery charged.
So right now, Baby Brother is in the proverbial driver's seat. All the decisions are up to him now. Now we wait. William keeps asking things like, "Is the baby going to come today?" and we keep having to say, "Well...we don't know." Not exactly the most satisfying answer, I know. Since I'm a big believer in Murphy's Law, I fully expect there to be a long wait now because we are, at last, somewhat reasonably prepared. My OB and her nurse aren't so convinced, given that I was still 4 cm dilated at yesterday's appointment but also 80 percent effaced. As the nurse said, that's about as close to being in labor as you can get without actually being in labor. Yikes.
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
Snow, yes. Baby, no.
NO, I have not had the baby yet.
Just wanted to clear that up right at the start, in case you were wondering. However, I am nervous about it. We keep getting all this crazy snow. Last evening, about two inches fell between 6 p.m. and 8 p.m. Then the rain and sleet arrived. I tell you, I fretted half the night away last night, worrying about getting to the hospital in that kind of weather. I kept thinking, "Please please please let me make it through this night."
I'm sure my mother-in-law, Diane, can relate. When she was pregnant with David's brother, Mark, in 1977, it was one of the snowiest Januarys that Nashville had ever experienced. My father-in-law and David had to keep getting out there and shoveling off the driveway so they'd be ready for a fast getaway to the hospital. Okay, so Aaron really did all the hard work of shoveling. David, who was almost three, used his beach pail and shovel to "help." Hey, every little bit counts, right? (Also, the notion of little toddler David out there, anxiously helping to make the driveway passable so his mommy could go give birth to his eagerly-awaited little brother gets me every time. I always say it's one of the reasons I married him. That might be a little bit of an exaggeration...maybe....) Luckily, I have not had to enlist William to shovel off our driveway. Yet. But perhaps it will stop snowing for awhile, so I won't have to worry about it.
So, yes, we have snow. No, we don't have a baby. That's the news, folks. Keep checking back.
Just wanted to clear that up right at the start, in case you were wondering. However, I am nervous about it. We keep getting all this crazy snow. Last evening, about two inches fell between 6 p.m. and 8 p.m. Then the rain and sleet arrived. I tell you, I fretted half the night away last night, worrying about getting to the hospital in that kind of weather. I kept thinking, "Please please please let me make it through this night."
I'm sure my mother-in-law, Diane, can relate. When she was pregnant with David's brother, Mark, in 1977, it was one of the snowiest Januarys that Nashville had ever experienced. My father-in-law and David had to keep getting out there and shoveling off the driveway so they'd be ready for a fast getaway to the hospital. Okay, so Aaron really did all the hard work of shoveling. David, who was almost three, used his beach pail and shovel to "help." Hey, every little bit counts, right? (Also, the notion of little toddler David out there, anxiously helping to make the driveway passable so his mommy could go give birth to his eagerly-awaited little brother gets me every time. I always say it's one of the reasons I married him. That might be a little bit of an exaggeration...maybe....) Luckily, I have not had to enlist William to shovel off our driveway. Yet. But perhaps it will stop snowing for awhile, so I won't have to worry about it.
So, yes, we have snow. No, we don't have a baby. That's the news, folks. Keep checking back.
Friday, February 05, 2010
4 cm
Ack!
So I went to the obstetrician this morning, and as it turns out, I'm already 4 cm dilated. 4 cm! Now, I realize that some women walk around for weeks, dilated like that, but last time, it took me hours on a Pitocin drip to get to that point. We may be Four Peas in a Pod sooner than we originally realized.
So. Much. To. Do. I would repeat that, but it might give me heart palpitations. And I don't need any other random health issues, thanks. The carpal tunnel syndrome, reflux, and nausea have given me plenty to deal with.
What have I done so far? Well, I managed to procure a carseat. That was a huge relief. I ordered one weeks ago from Amazon, only to get an email this past weekend, notifying me that it had been back-ordered and wouldn't ship 'til mid-March. Um, no. NO. I cancelled that order and ordered a similar carseat through Target's website. And thank you, Target, you lived up to your billing: the car seat arrived in less than three days.
I also did manage to lay in a few baby supplies: a few diapers, some wipes, some saline drops, some diaper rash cream, a couple of new pacifiers. I have a couple of going-home outfit options. My hospital bag has been (mostly) packed. A friend is bringing me a bassinette to use at the beginning, and another friend has offered us the use of her child's swing and baby bathtub. (Thanks, y'all!)
Now, if we could just get this room in some workable order, I think I would feel a lot more relaxed. The crib is still in William's room, and poor David is dreading the task of first disassembling it, then moving it, then reassembling it in the baby's room. You know how some people buy a treadmill, and then instead of using it, it ends up collecting dust and functioning as a rack to hang clothes on? That's pretty much what our crib is doing right now. It's an ad hoc clothes rack in William's room. But we can't move it into the baby's room until we move more stuff out. William's crib may be a clothes rack, but the baby's room is still a storage room/home office. Hopefully we can do that this weekend. I'm feeling a little bit anxious about it. I guess that's the nesting instinct kicking into high gear. I wonder if I'll suddenly be inspired to clean the grout in the shower with a toothbrush next? Okay, I doubt that. But maybe I will be inspired to figure out what to do with the gazillion books we have lying around, taking up space.
Of course, now that I'm all worked up about things, watch me walk around for the next four weeks without going into labor. The OB said she didn't think I'd make it all the way to 40 weeks. It might be 39 weeks, and it could well be sooner than that. Somehow that really made it seem Real. And a little intimidating. Like I said earlier, So. Much. To. Do.
So I went to the obstetrician this morning, and as it turns out, I'm already 4 cm dilated. 4 cm! Now, I realize that some women walk around for weeks, dilated like that, but last time, it took me hours on a Pitocin drip to get to that point. We may be Four Peas in a Pod sooner than we originally realized.
So. Much. To. Do. I would repeat that, but it might give me heart palpitations. And I don't need any other random health issues, thanks. The carpal tunnel syndrome, reflux, and nausea have given me plenty to deal with.
What have I done so far? Well, I managed to procure a carseat. That was a huge relief. I ordered one weeks ago from Amazon, only to get an email this past weekend, notifying me that it had been back-ordered and wouldn't ship 'til mid-March. Um, no. NO. I cancelled that order and ordered a similar carseat through Target's website. And thank you, Target, you lived up to your billing: the car seat arrived in less than three days.
I also did manage to lay in a few baby supplies: a few diapers, some wipes, some saline drops, some diaper rash cream, a couple of new pacifiers. I have a couple of going-home outfit options. My hospital bag has been (mostly) packed. A friend is bringing me a bassinette to use at the beginning, and another friend has offered us the use of her child's swing and baby bathtub. (Thanks, y'all!)
Now, if we could just get this room in some workable order, I think I would feel a lot more relaxed. The crib is still in William's room, and poor David is dreading the task of first disassembling it, then moving it, then reassembling it in the baby's room. You know how some people buy a treadmill, and then instead of using it, it ends up collecting dust and functioning as a rack to hang clothes on? That's pretty much what our crib is doing right now. It's an ad hoc clothes rack in William's room. But we can't move it into the baby's room until we move more stuff out. William's crib may be a clothes rack, but the baby's room is still a storage room/home office. Hopefully we can do that this weekend. I'm feeling a little bit anxious about it. I guess that's the nesting instinct kicking into high gear. I wonder if I'll suddenly be inspired to clean the grout in the shower with a toothbrush next? Okay, I doubt that. But maybe I will be inspired to figure out what to do with the gazillion books we have lying around, taking up space.
Of course, now that I'm all worked up about things, watch me walk around for the next four weeks without going into labor. The OB said she didn't think I'd make it all the way to 40 weeks. It might be 39 weeks, and it could well be sooner than that. Somehow that really made it seem Real. And a little intimidating. Like I said earlier, So. Much. To. Do.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Snow Daze
Well, we were probably overdue from some Serious Snow, weren't we?
The snow started falling in earnest on Friday morning, and it literally snowed all day long. And then it sleeted a little bit in the evening, and then it snowed again. Amazing.
Here are some photos from Friday...you can see the snow still falling while I took the pictures:
Not the best snow for making snowballs--it was too powdery--but we did give it the old college try:
What's a good snow day if you don't have hot chocolate afterward?
David took William out for a ride on his own old toboggan yesterday afternoon:
I have to admit, it really did look like fun, William being pulled around on the toboggan. I figured it would be cruel and unusual to ask David to pull me on the toboggan, though...
The snow started falling in earnest on Friday morning, and it literally snowed all day long. And then it sleeted a little bit in the evening, and then it snowed again. Amazing.
Here are some photos from Friday...you can see the snow still falling while I took the pictures:
Not the best snow for making snowballs--it was too powdery--but we did give it the old college try:
What's a good snow day if you don't have hot chocolate afterward?
David took William out for a ride on his own old toboggan yesterday afternoon:
I have to admit, it really did look like fun, William being pulled around on the toboggan. I figured it would be cruel and unusual to ask David to pull me on the toboggan, though...
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Getting ready
Don't worry. I haven't gone into preterm labor or anything like that yet. We've just been swamped with other things going on, and sadly, I've neglected my blog here. David and I have been diligently cleaning out the home office/storage pit for the baby's room, and I've had a lot of freelance work that I've been trying to get done. Add to that one busy preschooler and one big fat mama-to-be, and well, the spirit was willing but the body said, "Nah, go lie down. You can write on the blog later. And geez, can you do something about these huge swollen ankles and feet?"
At any rate, we did muster up enough energy to take William to the Big Siblings class at Baptist Hospital a couple weeks ago. William and his buddy Leland were very diligent little students. William informed the whole class that the umbilical cord's purpose is to connect the baby to the mommy inside her belly (the instructor's response: "William, would you like to come teach this class?). And he also revealed that his mommy's belly button has nearly disappeared. He doesn't hold back, does he?
He also learned how to diaper a baby. Well, he got some help:
And the highlight of the morning was getting to tour the labor and delivery unit and see the new teeny tiny babies in the nursery. Actually, that was probably just as useful to me as it was interesting to William. David held William up to the window so he could get a closer look at the babies, and the nurses in the nursery recognized David and began waving to him and pointing at William. I'd forgotten that they might recognize David! Meanwhile, I was making mental notes on everything I saw. Wow, these civilian hospitals are so plush compared to the military hospitals. I never had any issues with the Navy hospital where I delivered William, but these other hospitals are really so much fancier. I need to ask if they even have wi-fi....
Since our visit to the hospital, I've been trying to get my hospital bag ready, too. I had no idea it would be so hard to find pajamas or a nightshirt that buttons down the front. Really, is that such a strange thing to want to buy? No. But the people who make pajamas and nightshirts apparently have never tried to breastfeed a hungry baby. I'm still packing that bag so it will be ready when I need it, and I should pack a bag for William, too, since he'll be going to stay with his grandparents when the time comes. And yes, it amazes me, too, that the time is now so close. Well, so close and yet so far. When I go over the list of things I still need to do, the time seems very short. But when I'm attempting to roll over in bed without the aid of a forklift, well, let's just say that I'm looking forward to not being pregnant much longer.
Even William is nesting. He's been digging out old baby toys and lining them carefully up in a row, then calling me over to tell me how he will teach the baby how to play with each one. It's very, very cute. (Yes, it's also a little inconvenient, but well, I don't want to stifle his enthusiasm.)
So that's where I am right now. Trying to get the office cleaned out enough to turn it into a nursery. Trying to prepare for an eventual trip to the hospital. Trying to get work done before going into labor. Trying to breathe with this ridiculous head cold that I've come down with. Trying to remember all the stuff that I need to buy.
Actually, that last one is of the hardest ones. You'd think, oh, we've had a baby, so we should have everything. No. No no no. Yes, we do have crib sheets, crib linens, onesies, blankets and toys. And we have a Boppy, a bouncy seat, a Bumbo seat, and plans to borrow a bassinette. But we need to get wipes, diapers, diaper cream, a new changing table cover, changing mats, baby bath wash, a new baby bath tub, some more baby wash cloths, a breast pump and supplies, bottles, nursing pads, some nursing bras for me, socks for the baby (um, I promise that William wore socks, but for the life of me, I don't know which alternate universe they must have vacated to), a warm hat for the baby, new binkies, and God knows what else. I just got our new stroller from the UPS man today, and we have a new carseat en route. I want to get some burp cloths monogrammed for the baby (that is, if we can ever settle on a full name). And I probably should go through everything and make sure we have enough warm sleepers for the little guy, since we only had a few for William, as he was a spring baby. The thing is...right now, we still don't have a good place to store all this stuff, so I keep putting off the purchasing of said stuff. I guess if worst comes to worst, I can send David or Diane out to Target for a few of the most vital necessities and then pick up the rest later myself. Hurray for living close to Target this time around.
Whew. No wonder I'm tired, right? In addition to being the size of an aircraft carrier, I'm carrying around a lot of stuff in my head!
At any rate, we did muster up enough energy to take William to the Big Siblings class at Baptist Hospital a couple weeks ago. William and his buddy Leland were very diligent little students. William informed the whole class that the umbilical cord's purpose is to connect the baby to the mommy inside her belly (the instructor's response: "William, would you like to come teach this class?). And he also revealed that his mommy's belly button has nearly disappeared. He doesn't hold back, does he?
He also learned how to diaper a baby. Well, he got some help:
And the highlight of the morning was getting to tour the labor and delivery unit and see the new teeny tiny babies in the nursery. Actually, that was probably just as useful to me as it was interesting to William. David held William up to the window so he could get a closer look at the babies, and the nurses in the nursery recognized David and began waving to him and pointing at William. I'd forgotten that they might recognize David! Meanwhile, I was making mental notes on everything I saw. Wow, these civilian hospitals are so plush compared to the military hospitals. I never had any issues with the Navy hospital where I delivered William, but these other hospitals are really so much fancier. I need to ask if they even have wi-fi....
Since our visit to the hospital, I've been trying to get my hospital bag ready, too. I had no idea it would be so hard to find pajamas or a nightshirt that buttons down the front. Really, is that such a strange thing to want to buy? No. But the people who make pajamas and nightshirts apparently have never tried to breastfeed a hungry baby. I'm still packing that bag so it will be ready when I need it, and I should pack a bag for William, too, since he'll be going to stay with his grandparents when the time comes. And yes, it amazes me, too, that the time is now so close. Well, so close and yet so far. When I go over the list of things I still need to do, the time seems very short. But when I'm attempting to roll over in bed without the aid of a forklift, well, let's just say that I'm looking forward to not being pregnant much longer.
Even William is nesting. He's been digging out old baby toys and lining them carefully up in a row, then calling me over to tell me how he will teach the baby how to play with each one. It's very, very cute. (Yes, it's also a little inconvenient, but well, I don't want to stifle his enthusiasm.)
So that's where I am right now. Trying to get the office cleaned out enough to turn it into a nursery. Trying to prepare for an eventual trip to the hospital. Trying to get work done before going into labor. Trying to breathe with this ridiculous head cold that I've come down with. Trying to remember all the stuff that I need to buy.
Actually, that last one is of the hardest ones. You'd think, oh, we've had a baby, so we should have everything. No. No no no. Yes, we do have crib sheets, crib linens, onesies, blankets and toys. And we have a Boppy, a bouncy seat, a Bumbo seat, and plans to borrow a bassinette. But we need to get wipes, diapers, diaper cream, a new changing table cover, changing mats, baby bath wash, a new baby bath tub, some more baby wash cloths, a breast pump and supplies, bottles, nursing pads, some nursing bras for me, socks for the baby (um, I promise that William wore socks, but for the life of me, I don't know which alternate universe they must have vacated to), a warm hat for the baby, new binkies, and God knows what else. I just got our new stroller from the UPS man today, and we have a new carseat en route. I want to get some burp cloths monogrammed for the baby (that is, if we can ever settle on a full name). And I probably should go through everything and make sure we have enough warm sleepers for the little guy, since we only had a few for William, as he was a spring baby. The thing is...right now, we still don't have a good place to store all this stuff, so I keep putting off the purchasing of said stuff. I guess if worst comes to worst, I can send David or Diane out to Target for a few of the most vital necessities and then pick up the rest later myself. Hurray for living close to Target this time around.
Whew. No wonder I'm tired, right? In addition to being the size of an aircraft carrier, I'm carrying around a lot of stuff in my head!
Friday, January 08, 2010
Cold, yes. Snow, well, not so much.
I know. You're probably wondering, "Well, did it snow or not?"
The best answer I can give you is, "Yes, it snowed. Sort of." Here, a visual aid might help.
In other words, not so much. I fully believe it's because we really were prepared to get a significant amount of snow. We had bread. We had milk. We had toilet paper. We had long johns. That's when Mother Nature says, "Ooops, just kidding!"
William was a little disappointed. He really, really, really wanted to build a snowman and have a snowball fight. He has all these books where they show pictures of kids doing that in the winter, and he had great expectations. I guess I should dig out the book that my mom bought for him last year about what winter is really like in places like Mississippi (and Tennesseee): cold and gray, but not necessarily white.
And it's pretty darned cold here right now, too. The temperature is supposed to continue to dip this weekend, with expected temps in the single digits at night. And some optimistic weather folks are saying we may get some more flurries, but that doesn't go very far in placating small boys who want to build snowmen. It also means that the roads are icing over, which means we have to stick pretty close to home. Although I don't have a surplus of energy these days, I do think it'd be nice to escape the cozy confines of our house occasionally. After all, we had a lot of indoor together time over the holidays, and I'm still recovering from that.
The best answer I can give you is, "Yes, it snowed. Sort of." Here, a visual aid might help.
In other words, not so much. I fully believe it's because we really were prepared to get a significant amount of snow. We had bread. We had milk. We had toilet paper. We had long johns. That's when Mother Nature says, "Ooops, just kidding!"
William was a little disappointed. He really, really, really wanted to build a snowman and have a snowball fight. He has all these books where they show pictures of kids doing that in the winter, and he had great expectations. I guess I should dig out the book that my mom bought for him last year about what winter is really like in places like Mississippi (and Tennesseee): cold and gray, but not necessarily white.
And it's pretty darned cold here right now, too. The temperature is supposed to continue to dip this weekend, with expected temps in the single digits at night. And some optimistic weather folks are saying we may get some more flurries, but that doesn't go very far in placating small boys who want to build snowmen. It also means that the roads are icing over, which means we have to stick pretty close to home. Although I don't have a surplus of energy these days, I do think it'd be nice to escape the cozy confines of our house occasionally. After all, we had a lot of indoor together time over the holidays, and I'm still recovering from that.
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
There will be snow. Maybe.
Today is January 6. It's Epiphany, the day traditionally celebrated as the day the Magi found their way to the Baby Jesus. I tried to explain the significance to William, but he was dubious. After all, his nativity set has the three wise men, with their camels and crowns and gold/frankincense/myrrh right there in the stable with everyone else. Why would the nativity set lie?
At any rate, this is my first post of the new year 2010. Is it also the new decade? That's open to debate, of course. I'm having a hard time reconciling the fact that it's been ten whole years since my friends and I celebrated New Year's Eve 1999 in Memphis. There's a good story that I'll tell you some other time about how the water in our apartment got shut off, but I'll leave that alone for now. Somewhere around here, I have a picture of me and David from that night, and I'll have to scan it and post it. We were so young and skinny! Of course, David is still skinny, but there you go.
I just put William to bed a little early because he refused naptime today (sadly, a too-common phenomenon these days). Luckily, as is typical on a no-nap day, he went down with little resistance. He also is hoping to rest up because...drum roll, please...we are expecting to get somewhere between two and six inches of snow in the night tonight. The first big snow of the year! We've had flurries several mornings over the past week, which were pretty but pretty unconsequential. We're having a record cold spell, and for days, all the meteorologists have been forecasting actual snow tonight and tomorrow. I'm a little dubious of that myself. We've been so duly warned, and we've all prepared so well--I put gas in the minivan, bought bread and milk, bought long johns for William--that it just seems unlikely that we really will get snow. When I was a child, it seemed like the only times we got snow where when we were totally UNprepared. I guess that skepticism hasn't worn off yet.
So we'll see. David's got the day off tomorrow, and it would just be so perfect if we did get snow because he could play in the snow with William. William's been eager to build a snowman and have a snowball fight, and well, I'm not exactly in the best shape to do that sort of thing. I can be the Official Photographer, of course, since that does not require any bending or lifting.
What do you think? Is it really going to snow?
At any rate, this is my first post of the new year 2010. Is it also the new decade? That's open to debate, of course. I'm having a hard time reconciling the fact that it's been ten whole years since my friends and I celebrated New Year's Eve 1999 in Memphis. There's a good story that I'll tell you some other time about how the water in our apartment got shut off, but I'll leave that alone for now. Somewhere around here, I have a picture of me and David from that night, and I'll have to scan it and post it. We were so young and skinny! Of course, David is still skinny, but there you go.
I just put William to bed a little early because he refused naptime today (sadly, a too-common phenomenon these days). Luckily, as is typical on a no-nap day, he went down with little resistance. He also is hoping to rest up because...drum roll, please...we are expecting to get somewhere between two and six inches of snow in the night tonight. The first big snow of the year! We've had flurries several mornings over the past week, which were pretty but pretty unconsequential. We're having a record cold spell, and for days, all the meteorologists have been forecasting actual snow tonight and tomorrow. I'm a little dubious of that myself. We've been so duly warned, and we've all prepared so well--I put gas in the minivan, bought bread and milk, bought long johns for William--that it just seems unlikely that we really will get snow. When I was a child, it seemed like the only times we got snow where when we were totally UNprepared. I guess that skepticism hasn't worn off yet.
So we'll see. David's got the day off tomorrow, and it would just be so perfect if we did get snow because he could play in the snow with William. William's been eager to build a snowman and have a snowball fight, and well, I'm not exactly in the best shape to do that sort of thing. I can be the Official Photographer, of course, since that does not require any bending or lifting.
What do you think? Is it really going to snow?
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Last photo(s) of the year
It's not even 8:30 p.m. on New Year's Eve, and I am already beat. We just got William to bed, and now it's anyone's guess how much longer David and I can keep our eyelids propped open. Yes, I could claim pregnancy and illness as my excuses, but the reality is...we haven't done much partying on NYE in the past half-decade or so. We'll break out our Trader Joe's sparkling cranberry juice in a little while and make our toasts...after all, it may be early here, but it's 2010 in Europe already! I know, I know. We're livin' large, aren't we?
And the last photos of the year...
Appreciate this one because I bet we won't be able to get away with bathtub shots with William much longer. Here he is with the new pirate ship that his Uncle Mark gave to him for Christmas:
And here's the official last photo of the year. (Gosh, I don't know about you but I looooove it when it's finally bedtime.)
2009 was kind of a rocky year for our family, so I won't be too sad to see it go. And I'm hoping that 2010 is a much better one. Happy New Year's Eve to any of you who might be reading this! Have a glass of champagne for me!
And the last photos of the year...
Appreciate this one because I bet we won't be able to get away with bathtub shots with William much longer. Here he is with the new pirate ship that his Uncle Mark gave to him for Christmas:
And here's the official last photo of the year. (Gosh, I don't know about you but I looooove it when it's finally bedtime.)
2009 was kind of a rocky year for our family, so I won't be too sad to see it go. And I'm hoping that 2010 is a much better one. Happy New Year's Eve to any of you who might be reading this! Have a glass of champagne for me!
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Merry Christmas, y'all
Just in case you were worried, I did not auction my child off on eBay or anything. He suffered through some serious time out. He apologized. I cooled down (eventually). We're friends again. It's in the past. Like many of you have said, I will someday have a big hearty laugh about his little Christmas Eve caper.
Onward!
It's kind of funny to remember when William still didn't fully understand Christmas. He knew there were lights and sounds and good food and presents, but he didn't really understand the order in which they all arrived...and he didn't understand it enough to get really impatient about it, either. He was just delighted by whatever happened to happen.
This year, however, he knew exactly what was going on. We ate Christmas Eve dinner (also known as Aaron's birthday dinner) at the Wyckoffs' on Thursday night, and by the time I packed William into the car, it was really getting late. I told him that we'd need to go to bed really quickly to make sure he was asleep so that Santa Claus could come to our house.
David, who drove the minivan home after us, got online and looked up the website for NORAD, which "tracks" Santa's magical sleigh ride all over the globe on Christmas Eve. After I dressed William in his jammies, we told him to go check out the map on the computer to see where Santa was.
"Hey, look," David said. "Santa's in Newfoundland. That's north of here."
And as we watched the map, Santa was suddenly in Barbados. I guess he was travelling up and down the eastern seaboard before moving west, which seems to make sense.
"See, William?" David said. "Santa's there..." and he use the mouse to point out the little sleigh icon, and then he moved the mouse to put the cursor an inch or two to the left, over Tennessee. "And there's our house."
William took one look at the screen and took off running for his room. "Mommy, come on! Hurry!" he yelled over his shoulder.
I caught up to him as he was climbing into his bed. Out of breath, I said, "Okay, what story do you want to read tonight?"
William, pulling his covers up, said, "I don't think I need a story tonight."
Just so you know, he's never said anything like that before in his entire life. In fact, it was so unprecedented, that it caught me completely off guard. Let's see that little remark again, so we can absorb the full impact of it: "I don't think I need a story tonight." Nope, it still kills me.
"Well, how about I say a short prayer with you?"
"No, I'll say one when I'm lying down trying to sleep. Night night, Mommy." He shooed me out.
And I said, "Okay" and turned off the light and shut the door, and there was not a single peep out of him the rest of the night. William wasn't willing to take any chance that he'd make Santa Claus skip his house and...the horror...perhaps not bring him the Batman cave that he's been wanting for months now.
Santa, indeed, came through.
A Christmas Day family photo of the three of us. Probably one of the last ones we'll have of the three of us, since we're practically four now anyway!
We really did have a nice Christmas Day. I'll try to post some more Christmas photos soon.
Onward!
It's kind of funny to remember when William still didn't fully understand Christmas. He knew there were lights and sounds and good food and presents, but he didn't really understand the order in which they all arrived...and he didn't understand it enough to get really impatient about it, either. He was just delighted by whatever happened to happen.
This year, however, he knew exactly what was going on. We ate Christmas Eve dinner (also known as Aaron's birthday dinner) at the Wyckoffs' on Thursday night, and by the time I packed William into the car, it was really getting late. I told him that we'd need to go to bed really quickly to make sure he was asleep so that Santa Claus could come to our house.
David, who drove the minivan home after us, got online and looked up the website for NORAD, which "tracks" Santa's magical sleigh ride all over the globe on Christmas Eve. After I dressed William in his jammies, we told him to go check out the map on the computer to see where Santa was.
"Hey, look," David said. "Santa's in Newfoundland. That's north of here."
And as we watched the map, Santa was suddenly in Barbados. I guess he was travelling up and down the eastern seaboard before moving west, which seems to make sense.
"See, William?" David said. "Santa's there..." and he use the mouse to point out the little sleigh icon, and then he moved the mouse to put the cursor an inch or two to the left, over Tennessee. "And there's our house."
William took one look at the screen and took off running for his room. "Mommy, come on! Hurry!" he yelled over his shoulder.
I caught up to him as he was climbing into his bed. Out of breath, I said, "Okay, what story do you want to read tonight?"
William, pulling his covers up, said, "I don't think I need a story tonight."
Just so you know, he's never said anything like that before in his entire life. In fact, it was so unprecedented, that it caught me completely off guard. Let's see that little remark again, so we can absorb the full impact of it: "I don't think I need a story tonight." Nope, it still kills me.
"Well, how about I say a short prayer with you?"
"No, I'll say one when I'm lying down trying to sleep. Night night, Mommy." He shooed me out.
And I said, "Okay" and turned off the light and shut the door, and there was not a single peep out of him the rest of the night. William wasn't willing to take any chance that he'd make Santa Claus skip his house and...the horror...perhaps not bring him the Batman cave that he's been wanting for months now.
Santa, indeed, came through.
A Christmas Day family photo of the three of us. Probably one of the last ones we'll have of the three of us, since we're practically four now anyway!
We really did have a nice Christmas Day. I'll try to post some more Christmas photos soon.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Christmas Eve drama before 9 a.m.
So my original intention was to come here and tell you that I've reached the 30-week mark, hooray hooray. And then I wanted to tell you a sweet little anecdote about how William got to hear his baby brother's heartbeat at my OB appointment on Tuesday.
And it really was sweet, too. A slow, broad smile began to appear across William's face, making his cheeks look like apples, as he listened to the doppler's broadcast of the baby's heartbeat. He hadn't been exactly sure what to expect, but he knew this was a Big Deal.
Afterward, I asked him what he thought about that, and he said, "It was nice and a little weird." Why's that, I wanted to know. "Because babies make sounds like 'ga ga'," he explained. He also noted that the gel that my doctor used on my belly looked "just like our hand sanitizer!" Which, well, it did.
But anyway, like I said, I came here to tell that story. But then we had a little Incident this morning that really needs telling even more. I should title it something like "The Evil Genius Strikes Again." Argh. I'm still a little worked up over it, too.
Here's what happened. Last night, David and I wrapped gifts for each other and for his parents and brother. We stacked them way up on top of the (very tall) armoire in the corner of our bedroom, so William couldn't get to them. Heck, we could barely reach up there ourselves. This morning, after David left for work and while I was still asleep downstairs on the sofa (it has much better back support for awkward beached-whale pregnant ladies, what with all the pillows, and on nights when I cannot get comfortable, sometimes I migrate down there for a few hours), that's when William struck.
He took one of his little folding chairs from his table-and-chair set, dragged it up all 17 stairs, and carried it into our room. He moved everything out of the way from in front of the armoire (no small task). Then he found a box with a sturdy lid, stacked that on top of the chair. He climbed on top of all that and got down presents, which he then carried into his room. He shut the door and unwrapped all the gifts. None of which were for him.
I woke up and heard the feet running back and forth, and the bedroom door opening and shutting, and I went upstairs. I found what I just described to you and well, I think I went ballistic. I found a couple of David's presents strewn about, all of mine from David, one for Diane and something else. I yelled. A lot. I threatened permanent time out, I think. William ran out of his room, yelling back. There was a struggle on the stairs while I tried to drag William back to his room--for the record, it is harder to move an angry three-year-old when you're heavily pregnant than it is to move a dead body. (Er, not that I have actually ever moved a dead body. But you know what I mean.) Finally I managed to get him back into his room, slammed that door shut and marched downstairs to rewrap everything. William screamed and yelled from his exile. I fumed while I managed to get tape stuck all over the place, rather than in the right places. Grrrr.
(But hey, I am grateful for the Blu-ray copy of "The Princess Bride." Thanks, honey.)
So now, William's out of time out. He has apologized. I have confiscated the castle and all its accessories and placed them in time out. William has cleaned up the mess from the wrapping paper. He's back in his usual good spirits. I, however, am still feeling grumpy. What a way to start Christmas Eve, huh?
I called David, and he consoled me that one day, this will all be very, very funny. Hmph. All I know is that it's not even 9 a.m. and I feel like I've had a full day already.
And it really was sweet, too. A slow, broad smile began to appear across William's face, making his cheeks look like apples, as he listened to the doppler's broadcast of the baby's heartbeat. He hadn't been exactly sure what to expect, but he knew this was a Big Deal.
Afterward, I asked him what he thought about that, and he said, "It was nice and a little weird." Why's that, I wanted to know. "Because babies make sounds like 'ga ga'," he explained. He also noted that the gel that my doctor used on my belly looked "just like our hand sanitizer!" Which, well, it did.
But anyway, like I said, I came here to tell that story. But then we had a little Incident this morning that really needs telling even more. I should title it something like "The Evil Genius Strikes Again." Argh. I'm still a little worked up over it, too.
Here's what happened. Last night, David and I wrapped gifts for each other and for his parents and brother. We stacked them way up on top of the (very tall) armoire in the corner of our bedroom, so William couldn't get to them. Heck, we could barely reach up there ourselves. This morning, after David left for work and while I was still asleep downstairs on the sofa (it has much better back support for awkward beached-whale pregnant ladies, what with all the pillows, and on nights when I cannot get comfortable, sometimes I migrate down there for a few hours), that's when William struck.
He took one of his little folding chairs from his table-and-chair set, dragged it up all 17 stairs, and carried it into our room. He moved everything out of the way from in front of the armoire (no small task). Then he found a box with a sturdy lid, stacked that on top of the chair. He climbed on top of all that and got down presents, which he then carried into his room. He shut the door and unwrapped all the gifts. None of which were for him.
I woke up and heard the feet running back and forth, and the bedroom door opening and shutting, and I went upstairs. I found what I just described to you and well, I think I went ballistic. I found a couple of David's presents strewn about, all of mine from David, one for Diane and something else. I yelled. A lot. I threatened permanent time out, I think. William ran out of his room, yelling back. There was a struggle on the stairs while I tried to drag William back to his room--for the record, it is harder to move an angry three-year-old when you're heavily pregnant than it is to move a dead body. (Er, not that I have actually ever moved a dead body. But you know what I mean.) Finally I managed to get him back into his room, slammed that door shut and marched downstairs to rewrap everything. William screamed and yelled from his exile. I fumed while I managed to get tape stuck all over the place, rather than in the right places. Grrrr.
(But hey, I am grateful for the Blu-ray copy of "The Princess Bride." Thanks, honey.)
So now, William's out of time out. He has apologized. I have confiscated the castle and all its accessories and placed them in time out. William has cleaned up the mess from the wrapping paper. He's back in his usual good spirits. I, however, am still feeling grumpy. What a way to start Christmas Eve, huh?
I called David, and he consoled me that one day, this will all be very, very funny. Hmph. All I know is that it's not even 9 a.m. and I feel like I've had a full day already.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Let's go to the movies!
We have marked yet another rite of passage in the life of our young son William. A big one. A monumental one. One that no one should ever forget. That's right: we took him to see his first movie in the movie theater yesterday.
Don't you remember your first real movie? Mine was "Lady and the Tramp." David says that he saw either "Herbie the Love Bug" or "The Rescuers"; he saw both of them around the same time, so he's not completely sure which one came first for him, chronologically speaking. My brother's was "The Fox and the Hound."
William's first movie was "The Princess and the Frog." We took him to the Green Hills movie theater to see a noon matinee. He's been looking forward to it for months. Princesses? Movies? Popcorn? Time with Mommy and Daddy? How could it be anything other than perfect?
And William loved it. I figured that, since he eagerly watches "Sleeping Beauty" when we give in at home, he'd have no trouble sitting through another full-length cartoon. And he didn't. He didn't eat as much popcorn as I had originally predicted, but he seemed to enjoy the overall experience. He behaved nicely, he laughed at the funny characters, and he whispered when he wanted to ask a question.
On the way out of the theater, however, he refused to put his coat back on. Flat out refused. Finally, in exasperation, David said something like, "William! Put your coat on now! It's cold out there! Do you want to get sick?"
And I would almost swear that William, worldly wise young man that he is now, rolled his eyes. "Daddy, you don't get a cold that way. You have to get germs to get sick," he informed us.
Um, yeah, that's right, actually. Why are we ever surprised when he actually remembers things that we've told him?
I asked William later for his review of the movie. He said that the funny alligator was his favorite character. (Louis, for those of you who've seen it.) And he's ready to go see another movie again soon. Hopefully something else rated "G" will be released before too long...
Don't you remember your first real movie? Mine was "Lady and the Tramp." David says that he saw either "Herbie the Love Bug" or "The Rescuers"; he saw both of them around the same time, so he's not completely sure which one came first for him, chronologically speaking. My brother's was "The Fox and the Hound."
William's first movie was "The Princess and the Frog." We took him to the Green Hills movie theater to see a noon matinee. He's been looking forward to it for months. Princesses? Movies? Popcorn? Time with Mommy and Daddy? How could it be anything other than perfect?
And William loved it. I figured that, since he eagerly watches "Sleeping Beauty" when we give in at home, he'd have no trouble sitting through another full-length cartoon. And he didn't. He didn't eat as much popcorn as I had originally predicted, but he seemed to enjoy the overall experience. He behaved nicely, he laughed at the funny characters, and he whispered when he wanted to ask a question.
On the way out of the theater, however, he refused to put his coat back on. Flat out refused. Finally, in exasperation, David said something like, "William! Put your coat on now! It's cold out there! Do you want to get sick?"
And I would almost swear that William, worldly wise young man that he is now, rolled his eyes. "Daddy, you don't get a cold that way. You have to get germs to get sick," he informed us.
Um, yeah, that's right, actually. Why are we ever surprised when he actually remembers things that we've told him?
I asked William later for his review of the movie. He said that the funny alligator was his favorite character. (Louis, for those of you who've seen it.) And he's ready to go see another movie again soon. Hopefully something else rated "G" will be released before too long...
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Hello?
Serial posting because this is too good to not blog about...
This morning, I walked out of my bedroom to find William in the office (i.e. the computer room, which will soon be converted into Baby Brother's room, ousting me and my work to a location still to be determined). He told me that he'd been talking to Grandaddy Johnny on the computer, but there wasn't a picture. I asked him when, because we regularly chat with Grandaddy Johnny on the computer via Skype, and I figured, he was just talking about one of our past conversations.
Ah, well, as it turns out, he had JUST been talking to Grandaddy Johnny on the computer. As in, a few minutes earlier. While I was still in my room, he had come into the computer room, turned on the computer, somehow brought up the Skype program, called his grandfather and had a nice little chat. But because he likes to hang up the phone a lot, he had to call back a lot. And apparently he knows how to do all of that. Who knew he'd picked up so much from watching me do it? So the Skype log showed at least a half-dozen short phone calls that the two of them had had this morning.
Good grief. William can't even read yet, and he's already figured out how to do all this stuff? We are in big trouble--Big Trouble--when he does learn how to read.
For the record, Daddy said he was happy to talk with his grandson, but I needed to make sure to teach him how to turn the video system on so that he could see him on the computer screen. Apparently, William just punched the "Call" button, not the "Video Call" button, which was why there was no picture.
This morning, I walked out of my bedroom to find William in the office (i.e. the computer room, which will soon be converted into Baby Brother's room, ousting me and my work to a location still to be determined). He told me that he'd been talking to Grandaddy Johnny on the computer, but there wasn't a picture. I asked him when, because we regularly chat with Grandaddy Johnny on the computer via Skype, and I figured, he was just talking about one of our past conversations.
Ah, well, as it turns out, he had JUST been talking to Grandaddy Johnny on the computer. As in, a few minutes earlier. While I was still in my room, he had come into the computer room, turned on the computer, somehow brought up the Skype program, called his grandfather and had a nice little chat. But because he likes to hang up the phone a lot, he had to call back a lot. And apparently he knows how to do all of that. Who knew he'd picked up so much from watching me do it? So the Skype log showed at least a half-dozen short phone calls that the two of them had had this morning.
Good grief. William can't even read yet, and he's already figured out how to do all this stuff? We are in big trouble--Big Trouble--when he does learn how to read.
For the record, Daddy said he was happy to talk with his grandson, but I needed to make sure to teach him how to turn the video system on so that he could see him on the computer screen. Apparently, William just punched the "Call" button, not the "Video Call" button, which was why there was no picture.
No place for guilt at the holidays
So over on my other blog Jennifer Larson, Writer at Large, I recently mentioned that I was feeling a little guilty about not taking William to do tons of Christmas stuff this year.
Being nearly 28 weeks pregnant, I'm just huge and tired, and my energy level is just not what it normally is. And unfortunately, lots of the best Christmas activities require Serious Energy. I just couldn't do the downtown Christmas parade on Friday night, no way, and I managed to miss out on getting tickets to see a local production of a mini version of "The Nutcracker," but there's no way we'd last through a full-length performance.
So I decided to do some more low-key fun things and hope that they will suffice, at least for this year. As several people have told me, William is three. He doesn't know any different. There are plenty of years ahead to do bigger things around the holidays.
And we do still have two big fun things planned, so it's not like I bailed altogether this year. I'm taking him to a local church's Walk Through Bethlehem event on Sunday afternoon, and my mother-in-law is taking him to have breakfast with Santa at Davis-Kidd Booksellers on the 19th. I figure, I'll take him to have his photo taken with Santa at the mall one day after school, and we'll be good. Right?
In the meantime, a few photos from our low-key day on Saturday. I took him to Cheekwood so he could do the kiddie art class, which involved making a candy collage, and then we looked at the Christmas decorations....
Then we came home and decorated a gingerbread house from a kit that I bought at Target. I could have taken him to any of about three different gingerbread house workshops around town that day, but they all cost at least $40, and frankly, I was hesitant to spend that kind of money on that sort of activity for a kid his age. Surprisingly, the kit occupied him for about two hours at home. Well worth the money.
And we're doing the typical things, like taking him to church each Sunday, lighting the candles on our Advent wreath and doing the Lego Advent calendar each night (I'm sure you can guess whose idea that was, right?).
And we already plan to attend the children's Christmas Eve service, which he adored last year. So really, we're doing the most important things, I think. I just wish that I DID have the energy to do more. But I'm going to try to feel content with what we're doing and remember that he's enjoying everything that we are doing, and that it's not worth completely wearing myself down.
Being nearly 28 weeks pregnant, I'm just huge and tired, and my energy level is just not what it normally is. And unfortunately, lots of the best Christmas activities require Serious Energy. I just couldn't do the downtown Christmas parade on Friday night, no way, and I managed to miss out on getting tickets to see a local production of a mini version of "The Nutcracker," but there's no way we'd last through a full-length performance.
So I decided to do some more low-key fun things and hope that they will suffice, at least for this year. As several people have told me, William is three. He doesn't know any different. There are plenty of years ahead to do bigger things around the holidays.
And we do still have two big fun things planned, so it's not like I bailed altogether this year. I'm taking him to a local church's Walk Through Bethlehem event on Sunday afternoon, and my mother-in-law is taking him to have breakfast with Santa at Davis-Kidd Booksellers on the 19th. I figure, I'll take him to have his photo taken with Santa at the mall one day after school, and we'll be good. Right?
In the meantime, a few photos from our low-key day on Saturday. I took him to Cheekwood so he could do the kiddie art class, which involved making a candy collage, and then we looked at the Christmas decorations....
Then we came home and decorated a gingerbread house from a kit that I bought at Target. I could have taken him to any of about three different gingerbread house workshops around town that day, but they all cost at least $40, and frankly, I was hesitant to spend that kind of money on that sort of activity for a kid his age. Surprisingly, the kit occupied him for about two hours at home. Well worth the money.
And we're doing the typical things, like taking him to church each Sunday, lighting the candles on our Advent wreath and doing the Lego Advent calendar each night (I'm sure you can guess whose idea that was, right?).
And we already plan to attend the children's Christmas Eve service, which he adored last year. So really, we're doing the most important things, I think. I just wish that I DID have the energy to do more. But I'm going to try to feel content with what we're doing and remember that he's enjoying everything that we are doing, and that it's not worth completely wearing myself down.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Notes on Thanksgiving
Well, another Thanksgiving has come and gone, and suddenly we're in the middle of Advent again. We had a nice Thanksgiving weekend, although David was under the weather, which took a little bit of the shine off it.
My parents came to visit, and at the last minute, my brother even managed to get off work, so he drove up to Nashville for 24 hours, which was a wonderful surprise. So we had the whole clan: Mom, Daddy, John, Diane, Aaron, Mark, David, William and me. When William noticed that we were having to pull up extra chairs to the table, I told him that it was a very nice problem to have. And he agreed.
Because I was pregnant and because I ended up making dressing* for the very first time ever, I didn't end up taking many photos. So I apologize for the less-than-ideal photographic record of what was actually a pretty nice holiday. It's still better than William's first Thanksgiving, when I, er, didn't take any pictures at all.
Mom and Daddy decided that a little Thanksgiving-morning run around the yard might help by wearing William out a little:
In fine Wyckoff/Larson fashion, William put away two big pieces of JellO salad. He had his piece...and the piece that everyone tried to convince me eat. (Y'all. I haven't eaten JellO voluntarily in more than 20 years. It's time to stop trying. Seriously, it leaves more for you to eat! Why object?)
So anyway, it was really nice to get our family all together for a holiday. We never get to have both sides of the family together on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so I appreciate the chances that we do have to spend a holiday together. We even watched "A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving" before dessert.
A couple of days after Thanksgiving, William said how much he enjoyed the holiday, too. That made me very happy because for awhile, he kept saying that he was looking forward to Thanskgiving because it meant that Christmas was right afterward. But he said he was glad to have all his grandparents and uncles visit him, and he asked if everyone was coming back for Christmas. I told him that no, Mama Judi and Grandaddy Johnny would probably wouldn't be able to both be here for Christmas--but that we'd invite them to come if they could. And I reassured him that no matter what, we'd have his DeeDee and Grandaddy and Uncle Mark come over for Christmas, and that was something to look forward to.
He brightened and said "Can we have DeeDee over again sometime really soon?"
I said, "Sure." And then I said, "And what about Grandaddy Aaron?"
William thought about that for a second. "Well, I guess he can come, too."
***********************
I am seriously tempted to use this as a Christmas card photo because it just makes me laugh and laugh and laugh. No one needs to see me in all my swollen, pregnant glory on a Christmas card this year anyway!
* Okay, yes, Diane chopped all the celery and onions for it, which is the hard part. But I, er, mixed it all together! And put it in the oven! And took it out of the oven! Surely that counts for something, right?
My parents came to visit, and at the last minute, my brother even managed to get off work, so he drove up to Nashville for 24 hours, which was a wonderful surprise. So we had the whole clan: Mom, Daddy, John, Diane, Aaron, Mark, David, William and me. When William noticed that we were having to pull up extra chairs to the table, I told him that it was a very nice problem to have. And he agreed.
Because I was pregnant and because I ended up making dressing* for the very first time ever, I didn't end up taking many photos. So I apologize for the less-than-ideal photographic record of what was actually a pretty nice holiday. It's still better than William's first Thanksgiving, when I, er, didn't take any pictures at all.
Mom and Daddy decided that a little Thanksgiving-morning run around the yard might help by wearing William out a little:
In fine Wyckoff/Larson fashion, William put away two big pieces of JellO salad. He had his piece...and the piece that everyone tried to convince me eat. (Y'all. I haven't eaten JellO voluntarily in more than 20 years. It's time to stop trying. Seriously, it leaves more for you to eat! Why object?)
So anyway, it was really nice to get our family all together for a holiday. We never get to have both sides of the family together on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so I appreciate the chances that we do have to spend a holiday together. We even watched "A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving" before dessert.
A couple of days after Thanksgiving, William said how much he enjoyed the holiday, too. That made me very happy because for awhile, he kept saying that he was looking forward to Thanskgiving because it meant that Christmas was right afterward. But he said he was glad to have all his grandparents and uncles visit him, and he asked if everyone was coming back for Christmas. I told him that no, Mama Judi and Grandaddy Johnny would probably wouldn't be able to both be here for Christmas--but that we'd invite them to come if they could. And I reassured him that no matter what, we'd have his DeeDee and Grandaddy and Uncle Mark come over for Christmas, and that was something to look forward to.
He brightened and said "Can we have DeeDee over again sometime really soon?"
I said, "Sure." And then I said, "And what about Grandaddy Aaron?"
William thought about that for a second. "Well, I guess he can come, too."
***********************
I am seriously tempted to use this as a Christmas card photo because it just makes me laugh and laugh and laugh. No one needs to see me in all my swollen, pregnant glory on a Christmas card this year anyway!
* Okay, yes, Diane chopped all the celery and onions for it, which is the hard part. But I, er, mixed it all together! And put it in the oven! And took it out of the oven! Surely that counts for something, right?
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Scholastic book time
You know what one of my favorite things about preschool is? My son is finally old enough that his teachres stuff those Scholastic book flyers in his schoolbag every month.
Remember those? How can you not? When I was a kid, I lived for those book order forms. Granted, I was a big old nerd...er, bookworm...so I loved books anyway. The chance to order brand new books and receive them all at once at school was absolutely irresistible to me. My mother usually only allowed me to select three, maybe four, books, but that just made the whole selection process that much more intense. I pored over the pages, flipping them back and forth, marking my choices with my No. 2 pencil, before finally winnowing it down to an acceptable number. Then Mom carefully filled out the information portion of the form and wrote a check for the total.
Graciously, and despite the fact that we didn't have a lot of disposable income in those years, Mom always let me order enough books to qualify for the free poster that you received for ordering a predetermined number of items. The poster was always something nauseatingly cheesey, like a picture of a tangle of kittens in a basket full of yarn, or else it was a little odd, like the picture of a single white duck in the middle of a lush green lawn. But still! You had to get the poster! It was like the prize in the Happy Meal.
And then I looked eagerly forward to the day when the Scholastic book orders came in. At the end of the school day, the teacher handed out the stacks of books, always bound together with rubber bands. When she put my order on my desk, I couldn't wait to flip through my new treasures.
Of course, today we have Amazon.com, Borders,Barnes and Noble and all that. We have super bookstores that stock just about everything, something that we didn't have when I was growing up and had to rely on teeny-tiny Waldenbooks or B-Dalton's limited selections. And these days, I can order just about any book ever published online, get free super-saver shipping, and have a box delivered to my door in about two or three days. You'd think that Scholastic book ordering would have lost some of its appeal for me. Weirdly, no. It hasn't. William has received order forms for three months in a row now, and each time, I've spread them out over the kitchen table and eagerly combed through the forms and made checkmarks next to the items with the most potential. Should we get "Thump, Quack, Moo"? or "Pinkalicious"? What about the series of beginning reader books about the solar system? Decisions, decisions!
This past month, I just ordered a set of Christmas books that all tell some version of the Nativity story. Lord knows (er, no pun intended) that we have a boatload of Christmas books already, but I'm always on the lookout for another one that manages to combine good artwork and good storytelling. So far, we've read three of the four books that arrived last week. William seems to be enjoying them. He certainly likes new books in general. But I don't know if he's really caught on yet to how exciting it is to get new books at school. Maybe he won't. Maybe he's already too accustomed to buying books at Davis-Kidd and receiving them through the mail. That makes me a little sad to contemplate, actually. But as long as he grows up loving books, it really doesn't matter where the books came from.
Remember those? How can you not? When I was a kid, I lived for those book order forms. Granted, I was a big old nerd...er, bookworm...so I loved books anyway. The chance to order brand new books and receive them all at once at school was absolutely irresistible to me. My mother usually only allowed me to select three, maybe four, books, but that just made the whole selection process that much more intense. I pored over the pages, flipping them back and forth, marking my choices with my No. 2 pencil, before finally winnowing it down to an acceptable number. Then Mom carefully filled out the information portion of the form and wrote a check for the total.
Graciously, and despite the fact that we didn't have a lot of disposable income in those years, Mom always let me order enough books to qualify for the free poster that you received for ordering a predetermined number of items. The poster was always something nauseatingly cheesey, like a picture of a tangle of kittens in a basket full of yarn, or else it was a little odd, like the picture of a single white duck in the middle of a lush green lawn. But still! You had to get the poster! It was like the prize in the Happy Meal.
And then I looked eagerly forward to the day when the Scholastic book orders came in. At the end of the school day, the teacher handed out the stacks of books, always bound together with rubber bands. When she put my order on my desk, I couldn't wait to flip through my new treasures.
Of course, today we have Amazon.com, Borders,Barnes and Noble and all that. We have super bookstores that stock just about everything, something that we didn't have when I was growing up and had to rely on teeny-tiny Waldenbooks or B-Dalton's limited selections. And these days, I can order just about any book ever published online, get free super-saver shipping, and have a box delivered to my door in about two or three days. You'd think that Scholastic book ordering would have lost some of its appeal for me. Weirdly, no. It hasn't. William has received order forms for three months in a row now, and each time, I've spread them out over the kitchen table and eagerly combed through the forms and made checkmarks next to the items with the most potential. Should we get "Thump, Quack, Moo"? or "Pinkalicious"? What about the series of beginning reader books about the solar system? Decisions, decisions!
This past month, I just ordered a set of Christmas books that all tell some version of the Nativity story. Lord knows (er, no pun intended) that we have a boatload of Christmas books already, but I'm always on the lookout for another one that manages to combine good artwork and good storytelling. So far, we've read three of the four books that arrived last week. William seems to be enjoying them. He certainly likes new books in general. But I don't know if he's really caught on yet to how exciting it is to get new books at school. Maybe he won't. Maybe he's already too accustomed to buying books at Davis-Kidd and receiving them through the mail. That makes me a little sad to contemplate, actually. But as long as he grows up loving books, it really doesn't matter where the books came from.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Round-Up of William's Wit
Time for a quick round-up of funny things William has said recently!
Let's see....what can I pull out of the recesses of my brain for you to chuckle at?
1. Upon seeing me race to the bathroom and throw myself headfirst in front of the toilet one morning, William felt compelled to cheer me on.
"Ready! Set! THROW UP!!!" he yelled enthusiastically.
2. The other morning, William was pretending to be various characters from Disney movies or from his castle. He kept doggedly trying to get me to interact with him, even though I was scurrying around, making his lunch, eating breakfast, trying to find his shoes and all the other stuff that I do in the morning. "Mommy," he kept saying. "Mommy!"
Finally, I said, "What, William?"
And he said, "No, you have to say, 'What, Evil Wizard?'"
3. Part of this is more of a sweet moment than a funny moment, but I want to record it for posterity anyway. The rest, well....it is pretty funny.
William enjoys putting his head up to my stomach and talking to his baby brother. "Hello, baby!" he likes to say. "How's it doing in there?"
So after loosening the baby up with some small talk, he looked up at me and said, "Can he feel my love in there?"
Yes, let's say it all together now: awwwwwww.
But just in case you thought it was all sweetness, he then wanted to know, "How can the baby go peepee and poopy in there when there's not a potty inside your belly?"
4. Tonight, William earned a piece of his Halloween candy because he finished all his dinner, including his broccoli. (Granted, broccoli is his favorite vegetable, but still.) So I fetched the pumpkin from its safe place on top of the fridge and I handed it to him. He carried it off to root through the dwindling amount of candy and pick out the best piece. A little while later, he brought it back to me and said, "Here, Mommy. You need to put this up because I might want to eat even more."
Hey, he's honest!
______________________________
By the way, I wanted to let you know that I keep getting all these weird spam comments in Japanese on one of my earlier blog posts, and let's just say that they are most decidedly NOT family-friendly. I'm going to re-enable the function on the comment section that asks you to type in a word or series of letters and numbers before you post your comment. Please don't let this deter you from making comments. I've noticed a major drop-off in comments, probably more because I've not been posting as often recently (due to that whole bone-dead pregnancy thing I've got going on). But if you have something to say, just rest assured that the verification feature was put there on purpose. You can contact me if you have trouble using it though, and I'll see what I can do. I just don't want to keep getting those spam messages.
Let's see....what can I pull out of the recesses of my brain for you to chuckle at?
1. Upon seeing me race to the bathroom and throw myself headfirst in front of the toilet one morning, William felt compelled to cheer me on.
"Ready! Set! THROW UP!!!" he yelled enthusiastically.
2. The other morning, William was pretending to be various characters from Disney movies or from his castle. He kept doggedly trying to get me to interact with him, even though I was scurrying around, making his lunch, eating breakfast, trying to find his shoes and all the other stuff that I do in the morning. "Mommy," he kept saying. "Mommy!"
Finally, I said, "What, William?"
And he said, "No, you have to say, 'What, Evil Wizard?'"
3. Part of this is more of a sweet moment than a funny moment, but I want to record it for posterity anyway. The rest, well....it is pretty funny.
William enjoys putting his head up to my stomach and talking to his baby brother. "Hello, baby!" he likes to say. "How's it doing in there?"
So after loosening the baby up with some small talk, he looked up at me and said, "Can he feel my love in there?"
Yes, let's say it all together now: awwwwwww.
But just in case you thought it was all sweetness, he then wanted to know, "How can the baby go peepee and poopy in there when there's not a potty inside your belly?"
4. Tonight, William earned a piece of his Halloween candy because he finished all his dinner, including his broccoli. (Granted, broccoli is his favorite vegetable, but still.) So I fetched the pumpkin from its safe place on top of the fridge and I handed it to him. He carried it off to root through the dwindling amount of candy and pick out the best piece. A little while later, he brought it back to me and said, "Here, Mommy. You need to put this up because I might want to eat even more."
Hey, he's honest!
______________________________
By the way, I wanted to let you know that I keep getting all these weird spam comments in Japanese on one of my earlier blog posts, and let's just say that they are most decidedly NOT family-friendly. I'm going to re-enable the function on the comment section that asks you to type in a word or series of letters and numbers before you post your comment. Please don't let this deter you from making comments. I've noticed a major drop-off in comments, probably more because I've not been posting as often recently (due to that whole bone-dead pregnancy thing I've got going on). But if you have something to say, just rest assured that the verification feature was put there on purpose. You can contact me if you have trouble using it though, and I'll see what I can do. I just don't want to keep getting those spam messages.
Monday, November 09, 2009
Hand, hand, finger, thumb
So, want to hear the latest drama at our house?
Last week, I accidentally slammed William's hand in the minivan door. Poor little guy. Look at him:
But seriously, it was not one of the finer moments of my life as a parent. I was taking him to get a haircut, and right as I started to shut the door, he turned around and stuck his hand right there. Argh. Normally, William's not really a big cryer. When he gets hurt or upset, he really does not cry for very long. This, however, was not one of those times. I felt terrible, terrible!
We went down to Vanderbilt Children's Medical Center and got his hand x-rayed, and fortunately, nothing was broken. I knew he was probably going to be okay when he fell asleep in the van on the way to the hospital and then asked me to hold his injured hand as we negotiated the parking garage. He was a total angel in the waiting area, and David reported that he behaved beautifully for the x-ray technician, too. (They wouldn't let me go into the x-ray room since I've got Baby Brother on board.) William's hand was bruised, mostly across the knuckles and his ring and pinky finger, but otherwise, he was unharmed. What a huge, huge relief.
It did make me feel a little better when people started telling me that they've done something like this, too. Diane even 'fessed up to slamming one of her boys' hand in her car door back in the day; neither of them are quite sure if it was Mark or David, so I figured, it didn't scar them emotionally for life. And hopefully William will be just fine, too. He's already much more cautious around the minivan door, that's for certain.
I, on the other hand, will probably have nightmares about this for years. I still remember the horrible stomach-dropping feeling from the time I fell down the stairs with William in my arms. I may never fully recover from that. Mom can still recount all the hrarrowing scrapes that my brother got into as a small child, yet my brother remembers none of them. It's always the parent who has the memory seared into his or her brain.
Last week, I accidentally slammed William's hand in the minivan door. Poor little guy. Look at him:
But seriously, it was not one of the finer moments of my life as a parent. I was taking him to get a haircut, and right as I started to shut the door, he turned around and stuck his hand right there. Argh. Normally, William's not really a big cryer. When he gets hurt or upset, he really does not cry for very long. This, however, was not one of those times. I felt terrible, terrible!
We went down to Vanderbilt Children's Medical Center and got his hand x-rayed, and fortunately, nothing was broken. I knew he was probably going to be okay when he fell asleep in the van on the way to the hospital and then asked me to hold his injured hand as we negotiated the parking garage. He was a total angel in the waiting area, and David reported that he behaved beautifully for the x-ray technician, too. (They wouldn't let me go into the x-ray room since I've got Baby Brother on board.) William's hand was bruised, mostly across the knuckles and his ring and pinky finger, but otherwise, he was unharmed. What a huge, huge relief.
It did make me feel a little better when people started telling me that they've done something like this, too. Diane even 'fessed up to slamming one of her boys' hand in her car door back in the day; neither of them are quite sure if it was Mark or David, so I figured, it didn't scar them emotionally for life. And hopefully William will be just fine, too. He's already much more cautious around the minivan door, that's for certain.
I, on the other hand, will probably have nightmares about this for years. I still remember the horrible stomach-dropping feeling from the time I fell down the stairs with William in my arms. I may never fully recover from that. Mom can still recount all the hrarrowing scrapes that my brother got into as a small child, yet my brother remembers none of them. It's always the parent who has the memory seared into his or her brain.
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Happy Halloween!
Last year...or was it the year before last?...my friend Phuong sagely observed that very small kids don't really realize that it's candy that they are collecting when they go trick-or-treating. They just have fun collecting stuff, and then you can spirit most of it away.
Well, those days are over, over, over. See this picture of my beloved little boy?
In this picture, Sir William is literally dancing with impatience to go trick-or-treating. He could barely stand it when we kept telling him to wait just a few more minutes. Not when there was CANDY out there to get his hands on!
I love this picture (below), but it's a miracle that it exists. William was clawing to get outside, and we were all pleading with him to just pose for a photo, please please please please please.
But we did get a lovely family picture AFTER William had satisfied his trick-or-treat jones with a jaunt up and down our entire street and the adjacent street.
A special shout out to my lovely mother-in-law for gamely accompanying David and Sir William all around the neighborhood in the pursuit of life, liberty and candy. I stayed behind, with my big old belly, and handed out candy from a perch on the front porch. And er, I might have sneaked a few pieces of candy for myself at the same time, too.
Well, those days are over, over, over. See this picture of my beloved little boy?
In this picture, Sir William is literally dancing with impatience to go trick-or-treating. He could barely stand it when we kept telling him to wait just a few more minutes. Not when there was CANDY out there to get his hands on!
I love this picture (below), but it's a miracle that it exists. William was clawing to get outside, and we were all pleading with him to just pose for a photo, please please please please please.
But we did get a lovely family picture AFTER William had satisfied his trick-or-treat jones with a jaunt up and down our entire street and the adjacent street.
A special shout out to my lovely mother-in-law for gamely accompanying David and Sir William all around the neighborhood in the pursuit of life, liberty and candy. I stayed behind, with my big old belly, and handed out candy from a perch on the front porch. And er, I might have sneaked a few pieces of candy for myself at the same time, too.
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