While standing in a crowded elevator last Saturday, Garrett stroked his chin and said, "I think I need to shave. I have hairs on my face."
Apparently he's growing up faster than I realized. That and his hair truly is a nearly invisible shade of blond.
Also, it's not just the grown-ups who have picked up on the fact that Caleb is growing:
He's catching on quick.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
gobble gobble
At the beginning of the month our plans to spend Thanksgiving with my relatives in New Jersey fell through. Not wanting to spend the holiday alone or cook a big meal for just ourselves, Blake and I concocted a plan to organize a potluck feast that, if it grew big enough, could be held at the church. Anyone who wanted to join us would be more than welcome to come, though the main intent was so that people (mostly singles, couples, and small families from our ward) who were spending the holiday far away from family and who had no other special plans would have somewhere to go and people to eat with. The philosophy driving this idea was "the more, the merrier," and that is certainly how it turned out.
After determining that there was an interest in an event like this, we set to organizing it. I found a really great potluck organizing website and used it to create a traditional Thanksgiving menu, while still leaving room for the variety of family traditions and different cultures. Every adult who came was asked to sign up to bring one dish, though some contributed more. As for the turkeys, one couple was able to find two big birds for a good price and offered to buy them. Everyone who came helped to cover the cost, and if you chose to sign up for the turkey, your assignment was to cook it.
It didn't take long for people to start signing up in earnest. Blake volunteered to cook one of the turkeys and did a great job. I made a jell-o salad and a lemon meringue pie. In the end, we had more food than we could even begin to stuff ourselves with. And we had nearly 30 people, not including children, who came! It was, to put it mildly, a roaring success.
After dinner, we digested our food over good conversation and games of Catch Phrase and ping pong. The kids were very intrigued by the ping pong and wanted to join in the fun, so the more serious players, who didn't want to keep tripping over short people during their more intense games, set up a table just for them. It was perfect.
I was amazed at how much energy the kids had, particularly Garrett and Caleb, especially considering that they each only consumed about three crackers and half a roll each. They spent almost the entire meal chasing each other around the room. I suppose I shouldn't have been too surprised at this behavior, considering the pre-meal wrestling match they engaged in. (Notice who's pinning who. This is typical.)
Even though people were not yet finished feasting, Caleb decided to get a head start on the cleaning. He found a pint sized broom and when I found him, he was out in the hallway busy doing this:
Once the rest of us were ready to clean up and clear out, Caleb busied himself at the drinking fountain. By the time we were ready to lock up the building and go (which really wasn't too long, thanks to everyone's help and a relatively small mess to begin with), Caleb was completely soaked. He complained about it the whole way home, and, presumably because being so wet was uncomfortable, he started walking with a bowlegged gait, but there wasn't much we could about fixing the problem until we got there. It turned out that walking in wet denim was rubbing his poor legs raw, and he kept up his pained cowboy stance the rest of the night.
The bus ride home was a sleepy ride for everyone, but Garrett managed to make a point of exclaiming, "That a good, fun Thanksgiving party!" I couldn't agree more. This was one of the best Thanksgivings we've had since we've been far away and on our own (ranking second only to the year we spent at Plimoth Plantation). I would do this again in a heartbeat. With help from everyone who came, it was easy to organize. And the company couldn't have been better.
After determining that there was an interest in an event like this, we set to organizing it. I found a really great potluck organizing website and used it to create a traditional Thanksgiving menu, while still leaving room for the variety of family traditions and different cultures. Every adult who came was asked to sign up to bring one dish, though some contributed more. As for the turkeys, one couple was able to find two big birds for a good price and offered to buy them. Everyone who came helped to cover the cost, and if you chose to sign up for the turkey, your assignment was to cook it.
It didn't take long for people to start signing up in earnest. Blake volunteered to cook one of the turkeys and did a great job. I made a jell-o salad and a lemon meringue pie. In the end, we had more food than we could even begin to stuff ourselves with. And we had nearly 30 people, not including children, who came! It was, to put it mildly, a roaring success.
After dinner, we digested our food over good conversation and games of Catch Phrase and ping pong. The kids were very intrigued by the ping pong and wanted to join in the fun, so the more serious players, who didn't want to keep tripping over short people during their more intense games, set up a table just for them. It was perfect.
I was amazed at how much energy the kids had, particularly Garrett and Caleb, especially considering that they each only consumed about three crackers and half a roll each. They spent almost the entire meal chasing each other around the room. I suppose I shouldn't have been too surprised at this behavior, considering the pre-meal wrestling match they engaged in. (Notice who's pinning who. This is typical.)
Even though people were not yet finished feasting, Caleb decided to get a head start on the cleaning. He found a pint sized broom and when I found him, he was out in the hallway busy doing this:
Once the rest of us were ready to clean up and clear out, Caleb busied himself at the drinking fountain. By the time we were ready to lock up the building and go (which really wasn't too long, thanks to everyone's help and a relatively small mess to begin with), Caleb was completely soaked. He complained about it the whole way home, and, presumably because being so wet was uncomfortable, he started walking with a bowlegged gait, but there wasn't much we could about fixing the problem until we got there. It turned out that walking in wet denim was rubbing his poor legs raw, and he kept up his pained cowboy stance the rest of the night.
The bus ride home was a sleepy ride for everyone, but Garrett managed to make a point of exclaiming, "That a good, fun Thanksgiving party!" I couldn't agree more. This was one of the best Thanksgivings we've had since we've been far away and on our own (ranking second only to the year we spent at Plimoth Plantation). I would do this again in a heartbeat. With help from everyone who came, it was easy to organize. And the company couldn't have been better.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
also growing
When Garrett got off the school bus yesterday, he was wearing an ice pack on his head. Apparently he injured himself trying to kiss two girls at once. I guess his teachers weren't kidding when they told me last week at parent teacher conferences that my child is a big flirt.
In other news from Garrett's world, he has learned how to write his name! I knew that his occupational therapist had been working with him to strengthen his underdeveloped fine motor skills, but it wasn't until a few days ago that I actually saw proof that he could independently write every letter of his name -- and in the correct order. (Up until now, he'd usually just sign his name with a bunch of Ts.) I love how his G is backwards and his E is upside down.
I occasionally catch myself just watching him, as he plays, as he's completely engrossed with a show he's watching, as he interacts with his brother, and it amazes me that this boy -- my first baby! -- is growing up, and quickly, too. He's kissing the girls (but the only person he currently makes cry is himself), he's learning to write, he's becoming more and more independent, and he reaches conclusions about the world around him that surprise me by how creative and insightful they are. He may be my first baby, but he's certainly not a baby anymore.
Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean he's mature. He is still 4, after all.
In other news from Garrett's world, he has learned how to write his name! I knew that his occupational therapist had been working with him to strengthen his underdeveloped fine motor skills, but it wasn't until a few days ago that I actually saw proof that he could independently write every letter of his name -- and in the correct order. (Up until now, he'd usually just sign his name with a bunch of Ts.) I love how his G is backwards and his E is upside down.
I occasionally catch myself just watching him, as he plays, as he's completely engrossed with a show he's watching, as he interacts with his brother, and it amazes me that this boy -- my first baby! -- is growing up, and quickly, too. He's kissing the girls (but the only person he currently makes cry is himself), he's learning to write, he's becoming more and more independent, and he reaches conclusions about the world around him that surprise me by how creative and insightful they are. He may be my first baby, but he's certainly not a baby anymore.
Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean he's mature. He is still 4, after all.
Monday, November 21, 2011
overnight growth spurt
In addition to suddenly requiring an almost complete wardrobe overhaul to replace his too-short 2T clothes with some better fitting items in the 3T size, Caleb has found other ways to let everyone know that he's growing up.
For several hours after we tucked him into bed last night, Caleb stubbornly refused to go to sleep. He'd whine halfheartedly occasionally, but otherwise he'd just quietly sit there and jump up whenever Blake or I would come into the room to remind him it was bedtime. After stalling with requests for rock-a-byes and drinks of water, we finally got him to tell us what it was he really wanted.
He didn't want to sleep in his crib. "Garrett's bed," he requested, pointing firmly at his soundly sleeping brother.
Blake and I wrestled briefly over what to do. While Caleb has been claiming lately that he's ready to move from the crib to a big-boy bed, I'm not sure that I am ready for that to happen yet. Also, Garrett was already sleeping comfortably in the spot Caleb wanted so desperately to be in. We tried to persuade him that if he would just sleep in his crib for one more night, we'd make the switch in time for bedtime tomorrow. But he, of course, stubbornly refused any compromise we could come up with.
And so, because Blake was exhausted and wanted to go to bed as badly as I did, he hoisted a half-conscious Garrett up to the top bunk and tucked Caleb into the bottom -- where he snuggled right in and finally went to sleep. He stayed put all night long. (I will say, though, that the switch seems to have ruined today's nap. You win some, you lose some, I guess.)
In the morning, as if to further punctuate his overnight growth spurt, Caleb then refused to sit on his booster seat at the breakfast table, even though he's still a little too short.
Other things have clued me in to the fact that he's growing up. For one, he's become very well mannered: he regularly and correctly says "thank you," "I'm sorry," and "excuse me." He does small jobs around the house, such as putting his dirty clothes in the hamper or his dishes in the sink. He tells me when he's poopy (as if I needed to be informed...), then takes his dirty diaper to the trash.
I'm starting to notice a trend. If things continue in this vein, he might decide to potty train himself next week, something I'm pretty sure I wouldn't totally mind.
Perhaps it's all the recent talk at our house about babies, but Caleb, who is just as much a nurturer as he is stubborn, has recently renewed his interest in his dolly. He takes Baby with him everywhere--
to the stoop to wait for Garrett's bus,
on outings in the stroller,
and for rides on the subway.
He feeds it bottles and swaddles it in his blanket. He plays with it and props it up on the couch to watch shows. He even lets it help him with jobs around the house. In short, he sees to it that every one of Baby's needs are met and met well.
That boy. He's a keeper. And he's proving to me in so many ways that he's not a baby anymore
For several hours after we tucked him into bed last night, Caleb stubbornly refused to go to sleep. He'd whine halfheartedly occasionally, but otherwise he'd just quietly sit there and jump up whenever Blake or I would come into the room to remind him it was bedtime. After stalling with requests for rock-a-byes and drinks of water, we finally got him to tell us what it was he really wanted.
He didn't want to sleep in his crib. "Garrett's bed," he requested, pointing firmly at his soundly sleeping brother.
Blake and I wrestled briefly over what to do. While Caleb has been claiming lately that he's ready to move from the crib to a big-boy bed, I'm not sure that I am ready for that to happen yet. Also, Garrett was already sleeping comfortably in the spot Caleb wanted so desperately to be in. We tried to persuade him that if he would just sleep in his crib for one more night, we'd make the switch in time for bedtime tomorrow. But he, of course, stubbornly refused any compromise we could come up with.
And so, because Blake was exhausted and wanted to go to bed as badly as I did, he hoisted a half-conscious Garrett up to the top bunk and tucked Caleb into the bottom -- where he snuggled right in and finally went to sleep. He stayed put all night long. (I will say, though, that the switch seems to have ruined today's nap. You win some, you lose some, I guess.)
In the morning, as if to further punctuate his overnight growth spurt, Caleb then refused to sit on his booster seat at the breakfast table, even though he's still a little too short.
Other things have clued me in to the fact that he's growing up. For one, he's become very well mannered: he regularly and correctly says "thank you," "I'm sorry," and "excuse me." He does small jobs around the house, such as putting his dirty clothes in the hamper or his dishes in the sink. He tells me when he's poopy (as if I needed to be informed...), then takes his dirty diaper to the trash.
I'm starting to notice a trend. If things continue in this vein, he might decide to potty train himself next week, something I'm pretty sure I wouldn't totally mind.
Perhaps it's all the recent talk at our house about babies, but Caleb, who is just as much a nurturer as he is stubborn, has recently renewed his interest in his dolly. He takes Baby with him everywhere--
to the stoop to wait for Garrett's bus,
on outings in the stroller,
and for rides on the subway.
He feeds it bottles and swaddles it in his blanket. He plays with it and props it up on the couch to watch shows. He even lets it help him with jobs around the house. In short, he sees to it that every one of Baby's needs are met and met well.
That boy. He's a keeper. And he's proving to me in so many ways that he's not a baby anymore
Sunday, November 20, 2011
eye can-dy
On Friday some friends and their children joined us for an excursion playgroup to see the 2011 Canstruction exhibit at the World Financial Center. The sculptures, which are composed entirely of canned food items, are part of an artistic food drive for City Harvest. It's a relatively small exhibit, with about two dozen entries, held in a space that is not too enclosed, which makes it great for an outing with small children.
The boys loved it. At their favorite displays they'd stand in front and beg me to take their picture. Unfortunately, though, they'd say "cheese!" with just a little bit too much enthusiasm -- and distraction, which is why most of the pictures I snapped of them are either too blurry to make out or they're looking at something far away from my camera.
Here's a sampling of some of this year's entries:
(Some of you may remember that I visited the annual Canstruction exhibit once before. Click the link to see a sampling of the 2008 entries.)
The boys loved it. At their favorite displays they'd stand in front and beg me to take their picture. Unfortunately, though, they'd say "cheese!" with just a little bit too much enthusiasm -- and distraction, which is why most of the pictures I snapped of them are either too blurry to make out or they're looking at something far away from my camera.
Here's a sampling of some of this year's entries:
Pedestrian walk/don't walk light
This was one of the boys' favorites, probably because it was for them the most blatantly recognizable.
This was one of the boys' favorites, probably because it was for them the most blatantly recognizable.
Angry bird
High top
A Spam-sardine-and-tuna model of the Brooklyn Bridge.
This one was my favorite because, as you may notice, it's an actual suspension bridge. Awesome, no?
This one was my favorite because, as you may notice, it's an actual suspension bridge. Awesome, no?
(Some of you may remember that I visited the annual Canstruction exhibit once before. Click the link to see a sampling of the 2008 entries.)
Thursday, November 17, 2011
the truth about the first trimester
About a month ago, in a conversation with a nurse, I was reminded that the goal of the first trimester is just to get through the first trimester. How true that is! This time around, though, that has not been an easy task.
First, there's the nausea, which this time hit me several weeks sooner than my other two pregnancies. It's been unpleasant, as it always is, but I've managed because, well, that's all you can do, right? Unfortunately all the nausea of the last few months has been punctuated by minor, but almost constant illnesses. It started with the head cold I always get slammed with during the week I learn I'm pregnant, and was followed by the cough that wouldn't die. And then came more sniffles and sneezes before I was knocked over by a round of stomach flu.
In between all that the boys both got hit with a bizarre cold-like viral infection that ended in the breakout of an even more bizarre rash. Caleb got it first, and when I took him to the doctor I was told it was just a virus and that since the rash had appeared he was no longer contagious and on the mend. A few days later Garrett was sent home from school after breaking out in the same rash. Even though I was pretty sure he had the same non-threatening virus his brother had, a doctor's note was required so he could return to school, so we made another visit to the pediatrician.
The appointment took a turn for the worse when the doctor, with a concerned look on his face, asked if anyone the boys had been around was pregnant. I told him that I was, at which point his brow furrowed with even more worry. His concern was that this virus was Fifth Disease, non-threatening enough in a child, but potentially fatal for an unborn baby. Blood tests were ordered and the wait for the results commenced. Happily, after two days of intense anxiety, we received the wonderful news that it was, in fact, just a bizarre virus and not Fifth Disease. We all breathed a huge sigh of relief as we renewed our hope for the healthy development of this baby.
Illness is an obnoxious thing to add to the difficulties of early pregnancy, but the biggest struggle I've dealt with so far, however, has been the onset of anxiety and depression. I didn't realize that depression affected pregnant women pre-partem, but apparently it does and is not uncommon. In the first few weeks of pregnancy, I started having panic attacks, which scared me into seeking medical help. (Also, feeling so miserably blue day after day after day was starting to get old, but I just didn't know how to pull myself out of it.) I don't necessarily want to delve here into the details and particulars, but I will say that these issues are likely the result of crazy early pregnancy hormones, our current lifestyle, and, as one doctor I saw put it, the fact that I have a very full plate right now. I eventually found my way to a really great therapist. It's quite a schlep up to her office in Manhattan, but the thing I appreciate most about her is that she is LDS, which has been nothing but beneficial as I've unloaded my burdens on her couch and listened to her advice, which has often been spiritual in nature.
Things are not fixed yet, but they are improving. It's still hard to find the desire to get up in the mornings and face a new day and I'm not sure yet how I'll mange to ride out the coming winter, but now, thanks to my therapist's recommendation, I have my daily sit next to my Happy Lite to look forward to, and that helps. I also have great support from family and friends, which has been nothing less than a lifesaver. The [mostly] lovely, sunny weather we've been having during this late fall has also been very helpful.
So things are slowly getting better, and I'm hoping they continue on that track, especially as my whacked out hormones start to level out a little. As a part of our process to improve our current lifestyle (and make welcoming a third child to our home and life in Brooklyn a little more feasible), we are looking to buy a car. After over four years of living here without one, we've decided that it's time. Hopefully we'll find something soon. (So if any of you out there know of a good quality, low-cost vehicle that would fit three children and their required carseats in the back row, please let me know!) Right now we're leaning toward Subarus, either a Forester or an Outback, but we'll take what we can get that meets our requirements.
Despite the emotional and physical roller-coaster I've been riding for the last few months, I really am more thrilled than terrified at the opportunity to welcome another child into our family (even though, if you catch me at a bad moment, I might not admit that). There will no doubt be more bumps and hurdles to get over before all is said and done, but I have a feeling that we'll come out okay in the end.
First, there's the nausea, which this time hit me several weeks sooner than my other two pregnancies. It's been unpleasant, as it always is, but I've managed because, well, that's all you can do, right? Unfortunately all the nausea of the last few months has been punctuated by minor, but almost constant illnesses. It started with the head cold I always get slammed with during the week I learn I'm pregnant, and was followed by the cough that wouldn't die. And then came more sniffles and sneezes before I was knocked over by a round of stomach flu.
In between all that the boys both got hit with a bizarre cold-like viral infection that ended in the breakout of an even more bizarre rash. Caleb got it first, and when I took him to the doctor I was told it was just a virus and that since the rash had appeared he was no longer contagious and on the mend. A few days later Garrett was sent home from school after breaking out in the same rash. Even though I was pretty sure he had the same non-threatening virus his brother had, a doctor's note was required so he could return to school, so we made another visit to the pediatrician.
The appointment took a turn for the worse when the doctor, with a concerned look on his face, asked if anyone the boys had been around was pregnant. I told him that I was, at which point his brow furrowed with even more worry. His concern was that this virus was Fifth Disease, non-threatening enough in a child, but potentially fatal for an unborn baby. Blood tests were ordered and the wait for the results commenced. Happily, after two days of intense anxiety, we received the wonderful news that it was, in fact, just a bizarre virus and not Fifth Disease. We all breathed a huge sigh of relief as we renewed our hope for the healthy development of this baby.
Illness is an obnoxious thing to add to the difficulties of early pregnancy, but the biggest struggle I've dealt with so far, however, has been the onset of anxiety and depression. I didn't realize that depression affected pregnant women pre-partem, but apparently it does and is not uncommon. In the first few weeks of pregnancy, I started having panic attacks, which scared me into seeking medical help. (Also, feeling so miserably blue day after day after day was starting to get old, but I just didn't know how to pull myself out of it.) I don't necessarily want to delve here into the details and particulars, but I will say that these issues are likely the result of crazy early pregnancy hormones, our current lifestyle, and, as one doctor I saw put it, the fact that I have a very full plate right now. I eventually found my way to a really great therapist. It's quite a schlep up to her office in Manhattan, but the thing I appreciate most about her is that she is LDS, which has been nothing but beneficial as I've unloaded my burdens on her couch and listened to her advice, which has often been spiritual in nature.
Things are not fixed yet, but they are improving. It's still hard to find the desire to get up in the mornings and face a new day and I'm not sure yet how I'll mange to ride out the coming winter, but now, thanks to my therapist's recommendation, I have my daily sit next to my Happy Lite to look forward to, and that helps. I also have great support from family and friends, which has been nothing less than a lifesaver. The [mostly] lovely, sunny weather we've been having during this late fall has also been very helpful.
So things are slowly getting better, and I'm hoping they continue on that track, especially as my whacked out hormones start to level out a little. As a part of our process to improve our current lifestyle (and make welcoming a third child to our home and life in Brooklyn a little more feasible), we are looking to buy a car. After over four years of living here without one, we've decided that it's time. Hopefully we'll find something soon. (So if any of you out there know of a good quality, low-cost vehicle that would fit three children and their required carseats in the back row, please let me know!) Right now we're leaning toward Subarus, either a Forester or an Outback, but we'll take what we can get that meets our requirements.
Despite the emotional and physical roller-coaster I've been riding for the last few months, I really am more thrilled than terrified at the opportunity to welcome another child into our family (even though, if you catch me at a bad moment, I might not admit that). There will no doubt be more bumps and hurdles to get over before all is said and done, but I have a feeling that we'll come out okay in the end.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
expecting
Official due date: May 22, 2012
Likely due date (taking prior experiences into consideration): A little more than 2 weeks before that.
Fun fact: I saw on a recent news report that some survey found that May 22 was the least popular birthday (which somehow seems to even further reduce the odds of this baby arriving on schedule).
Even more fun fact: My sister-in-law is due one day before me. Hooray for cousins!
Sunday, November 13, 2011
first primary program
Today was Garrett's first time participating in the Primary Sacrament Meeting Presentation. He did such a great job! And by great job I mean that he generally left his neighbors in the front row alone and didn't try to eat the microphone while he recited his parts.
This year the Primary Presidency interviewed each child on topics they've learned this year in Sharing Time and took their answers to write up the program speaking parts. So every line each child recited were their very own words. Garrett had two parts. The first was on his knowledge about the temple: "The temple is where Jesus lives." Not a bad response, I say. His second part was regarding modesty and our body as a temple: "We should wear nice, happy clothes!" Awesome. We worked this week to learn his lines, and though he required a little help when his time in the spotlight came, he was able to confidently recite them -- and with a huge grin on his face.
This being my first program as the Primary music leader, I'm quite relieved that it's over. But I'm so proud of the kids in our primary -- they did so well! Everything went smoothly. And unlike the program I oversaw a few years ago when I was the primary president, this time the kids sang loud enough that I'm pretty sure that those sitting in the back row could hear them just fine. And they sang so beautifully; it took every ounce of restraint I could muster to keep from crying as I listened to them, and even then I occasionally came up short. I will never get tired of hearing children sing their knowledge and testimonies of the gospel.
Even Garrett sang during the program. I suppose this shouldn't be too surprising seeing as how lately he's started spontaneously singing the songs at home. When I comment to him how much I love that song or how I love his singing, he'll stop and say, "Sing with me, Mom." And so we'll sing them together. And it's wonderful.
Garrett's goodness on a Sunday at church could only last so long, though. Immediately after Sacrament Meeting he had an accident in the bathroom that required a mop, and then, after a meltdown involving markers, he fell asleep during Primary.
But he was as happy as ever on the bus ride home (as was his brother).
This year the Primary Presidency interviewed each child on topics they've learned this year in Sharing Time and took their answers to write up the program speaking parts. So every line each child recited were their very own words. Garrett had two parts. The first was on his knowledge about the temple: "The temple is where Jesus lives." Not a bad response, I say. His second part was regarding modesty and our body as a temple: "We should wear nice, happy clothes!" Awesome. We worked this week to learn his lines, and though he required a little help when his time in the spotlight came, he was able to confidently recite them -- and with a huge grin on his face.
This being my first program as the Primary music leader, I'm quite relieved that it's over. But I'm so proud of the kids in our primary -- they did so well! Everything went smoothly. And unlike the program I oversaw a few years ago when I was the primary president, this time the kids sang loud enough that I'm pretty sure that those sitting in the back row could hear them just fine. And they sang so beautifully; it took every ounce of restraint I could muster to keep from crying as I listened to them, and even then I occasionally came up short. I will never get tired of hearing children sing their knowledge and testimonies of the gospel.
Even Garrett sang during the program. I suppose this shouldn't be too surprising seeing as how lately he's started spontaneously singing the songs at home. When I comment to him how much I love that song or how I love his singing, he'll stop and say, "Sing with me, Mom." And so we'll sing them together. And it's wonderful.
Garrett's goodness on a Sunday at church could only last so long, though. Immediately after Sacrament Meeting he had an accident in the bathroom that required a mop, and then, after a meltdown involving markers, he fell asleep during Primary.
But he was as happy as ever on the bus ride home (as was his brother).
Thursday, November 10, 2011
out of the mouths of babes
Garrett (after I had refused one of his whiny requests): How many times I tell you not to use that word?!
Me: What word?
Garrett: NO!
*****
Caleb (calling in a panic from the living room): Bandy! Bandy! BANDY!
Me (coming into the room to see what's wrong): Do you want your blanket?
Caleb: Yeah.
Me: Okay, go get it.
Caleb: No -- Mommy do it!
*****
Garrett (whenever he's upset or frustrated about something): I so angry! And I not care about that!
(Note: He does, in fact, care. Very much.)
*****
Me: Would you boys like a little bit of ice cream?
Garrett: Reary?
Me: Yeah, really.
Garrett: Oh, Mom -- you so nice!
Caleb (jumping up and down and clapping his hands): Hooray! Hooray! I eh-cited!
Me: What word?
Garrett: NO!
*****
Caleb (calling in a panic from the living room): Bandy! Bandy! BANDY!
Me (coming into the room to see what's wrong): Do you want your blanket?
Caleb: Yeah.
Me: Okay, go get it.
Caleb: No -- Mommy do it!
*****
Garrett (whenever he's upset or frustrated about something): I so angry! And I not care about that!
(Note: He does, in fact, care. Very much.)
*****
Me: Would you boys like a little bit of ice cream?
Garrett: Reary?
Me: Yeah, really.
Garrett: Oh, Mom -- you so nice!
Caleb (jumping up and down and clapping his hands): Hooray! Hooray! I eh-cited!
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
testimony
With my husband sitting on the stand, small, wiggly children requiring my attention on the pew, and a resulting inability to coherently gather my thoughts, it's not an easy thing for me to sneak away to share my testimony on Fast Sundays. But last Sunday I managed to -- though not without two little boys quickly on my heels as soon as they'd noticed me missing.
I thought I'd share here what I shared over the pulpit (or what I remember sharing, anyway. It's also not easy to speak to a congregation while simultaneously making sure my children aren't wreaking havoc as they make their own way up to the stand). I do this partly to tell you what I know to be true, but mostly so that I don't forget that I do, in fact, know these things (sometimes the reality of daily life messes with my memory). It's not much, but it's what's been keeping me afloat lately.
I know that I am a daughter of a Heavenly Father who loves me. He knows me. He knows my strengths, but even more, He knows my struggles and my weaknesses. And He still loves me -- and always will. He has placed so many kind, selfless people in my path who help me and lift me up in ways large and small because He knows I can't do this alone. I can't do it without their help, and, more importantly, I can't do it without His help. I am so blessed to have this knowledge, and very lucky to be surrounded by so many good, loving people. I say things these in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
I thought I'd share here what I shared over the pulpit (or what I remember sharing, anyway. It's also not easy to speak to a congregation while simultaneously making sure my children aren't wreaking havoc as they make their own way up to the stand). I do this partly to tell you what I know to be true, but mostly so that I don't forget that I do, in fact, know these things (sometimes the reality of daily life messes with my memory). It's not much, but it's what's been keeping me afloat lately.
I know that I am a daughter of a Heavenly Father who loves me. He knows me. He knows my strengths, but even more, He knows my struggles and my weaknesses. And He still loves me -- and always will. He has placed so many kind, selfless people in my path who help me and lift me up in ways large and small because He knows I can't do this alone. I can't do it without their help, and, more importantly, I can't do it without His help. I am so blessed to have this knowledge, and very lucky to be surrounded by so many good, loving people. I say things these in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
sometimes all those stairs are worth the climb
Going into the city has always been an exhausting venture when I have both boys in tow. This is partly because they are crazy on public transportation (and, due to the crowds and the glares, there is often not a lot I can do to publicly discipline them when the moment calls for it). But lately it's mostly because of these:
Subway stairs, of which there are many, and which after each set I climb, hauling my brood, our bag(s), and the stroller up or down them, I think never (pant) ever (pant) am I (pant) going to (pant) put myself (pant) through this (pant) again (pant pant pant).
But then, whether because of necessity or insanity, I go and do it all again. Just like I did today.
And even though this afternoon's ordeal (and yes, the outing can be classified as an ordeal) was indescribably exhausting, it was also incredibly successful.
My mission: to find the boys family photo-worthy sweaters using promotions and coupons at JC Penney and Old Navy.
What I came away with: an argyle sweater in gray for Garrett, originally retailing for $29.99 for which I paid a whopping $4.99; and a navy blue with gray stripes half-zip pullover (of which I apparently got one of the very last available, since they can no longer be found online) for Caleb, originally retailing for $19.94 for which I paid only $8.96.
Time it took to find both: less than 1 hour (not, unfortunately, including travel time to and from Manhattan -- though we never did have to wait too long for a train).
The euphoria derived from these frugal finds was almost enough to get me up that final set of subway stairs without losing my breath.
Almost.
Subway stairs, of which there are many, and which after each set I climb, hauling my brood, our bag(s), and the stroller up or down them, I think never (pant) ever (pant) am I (pant) going to (pant) put myself (pant) through this (pant) again (pant pant pant).
But then, whether because of necessity or insanity, I go and do it all again. Just like I did today.
And even though this afternoon's ordeal (and yes, the outing can be classified as an ordeal) was indescribably exhausting, it was also incredibly successful.
My mission: to find the boys family photo-worthy sweaters using promotions and coupons at JC Penney and Old Navy.
What I came away with: an argyle sweater in gray for Garrett, originally retailing for $29.99 for which I paid a whopping $4.99; and a navy blue with gray stripes half-zip pullover (of which I apparently got one of the very last available, since they can no longer be found online) for Caleb, originally retailing for $19.94 for which I paid only $8.96.
Time it took to find both: less than 1 hour (not, unfortunately, including travel time to and from Manhattan -- though we never did have to wait too long for a train).
The euphoria derived from these frugal finds was almost enough to get me up that final set of subway stairs without losing my breath.
Almost.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
halloween in brooklyn rocks
Garrett the fireman and his station dog, Caleb.(Or, as Garrett puts it, "I a fireman and this Caybuh my fireman dog.")
The older I get, the less I like Halloween. I don't much care for the spooky aspect of it. But, even so, Halloween in Brooklyn rocks. I know I've said that before, and I'll probably say it again next year, but seriously, everyone should get a chance to experience this holiday here, if only for the trick-or-treating.
It's taken me 4 years to fully figure out the ins and outs of trick-or-treating in this neighborhood, but this year I think I finally got it. Homes generally welcome trick-or-treaters, but apartment buildings generally do not. But why wear little legs out hiking up and down steep stoop stairs to knock on doors when you can just walk up and down the avenues in the business districts going from store to store collecting candy? Also, why wait until it's dark outside? Trick-or-treating here happens right after school lets out, and earlier when the holiday falls on a weekend.
First the boys and I went to a few stores on our street where people know us: the laundromat, the grocery store, Mary Ann at the copy shop. Then we hopped over a few blocks to meet up with Emily and her brood so that Garrett and Caleb could go trick or treating with Elizabeth (also known as Foofa). We walked along several blocks and stopped in nearly every store -- even the liquor store (shhh...don't tell the bishop). We also hit up one block of homes known for good trick-or-treating. By the time we reached the end of our route (and, in the case of the boys, the end of their ropes), everyone had more candy than they knew how to handle. ("My bucket so heavy!" Garrett complained, to which Caleb echoed, "Bucket! Heavy!") In all we walked both sides of about 6 or 7 blocks. It was perfect.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)