Last year, we carved pumpkins on Halloween Eve with the help of the Wilkersons. Apparently that was the beginning of a tradition, because Sam and Kate were invited to carve again last night.
After a yummy (messy) spaghetti dinner, the kids stayed and played pumpkin with the Wilkerson clan (Janet, Bill, Meaghan and boyfriend Matt). Matt, Sam and Bill created a storm trooper pumpkin that is really something to see! I’ll post a picture when we light it tonight and take one. Meaghan and Kate (and crew) worked on a bride/groom penguin pumpkin that was pretty cute too. I’m wondering if this is a reference to the Friends “penguins mate for life” which was really lobsters, but Janet got confused when she gave us Christmas penguins for our wedding all those years ago…
Apparently while they were there, Sam decided he needed to take off his shirt to carve pumpkins. I’m not sure why. So he did. Later he was fake playing the guitar hero guitar and singing, “I’m playing guitar hero. I’m shirtless. I’m playing guitar hero shirtless.” He’s a real hunk. When I asked him about taking his shirt off, I was told: “I was hot. And my shirt is too small.” Good to know.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
BMB: Enough growing already!
As a parent, I feel constantly torn between the two extremes of looking forward to my kids being older and keeping them young while I still can. I very firmly do not want to have any more babies. That is clearer and clearer all the time (and probably warrants a bad mom post of its own). But something about Kate’s 2nd birthday today makes me think about how quickly the time passes and how easily I forget the little moments that make little ones so special.
The parent mantra is all about helping your children grow up. Grow into better, complete, responsible individuals, contributors to society who remember their manners and have enough ambition to move out someday and live a life of their own. All of that is very good. My friends with school-aged children can take them to movies, on roller coasters, and drop them off at parties without batting an eye or taking an extra change of clothes.
Growing up means great things for Kate. She has friendships, sleepovers, catfights, good books, first kisses, and meaningful goodbyes ahead. She will grow bigger, stronger, smarter, and braver (heaven help me). She’ll have her own dreams to replace those I have for her, and she’ll impose her strong will on someone other than just me.
But being little had its moments too. Kate was a laid-back, happy baby who was not at all colicky or high maintenance. She survived a rough bout of stomach flu that put her in the hospital, but bonded mother and daughter like no bedtime ritual ever has. She competed valiantly with Sam—wanting to be just like her big brother and run as fast, build as tall, and sing as loud as he does. She wants to leave her own mark on things. Literally. She basically potty-trained herself (praise to God). She’s had a great first 2 years.
So this mama has to get over the growing and remember to embrace every day, every stage, for the joys that it brings. When Kate wants to rock a little longer, or Sam wants to crawl in my bed and cuddle, I want to remember that these days are short and take every snuggle I can get.
The parent mantra is all about helping your children grow up. Grow into better, complete, responsible individuals, contributors to society who remember their manners and have enough ambition to move out someday and live a life of their own. All of that is very good. My friends with school-aged children can take them to movies, on roller coasters, and drop them off at parties without batting an eye or taking an extra change of clothes.
Growing up means great things for Kate. She has friendships, sleepovers, catfights, good books, first kisses, and meaningful goodbyes ahead. She will grow bigger, stronger, smarter, and braver (heaven help me). She’ll have her own dreams to replace those I have for her, and she’ll impose her strong will on someone other than just me.
But being little had its moments too. Kate was a laid-back, happy baby who was not at all colicky or high maintenance. She survived a rough bout of stomach flu that put her in the hospital, but bonded mother and daughter like no bedtime ritual ever has. She competed valiantly with Sam—wanting to be just like her big brother and run as fast, build as tall, and sing as loud as he does. She wants to leave her own mark on things. Literally. She basically potty-trained herself (praise to God). She’s had a great first 2 years.
So this mama has to get over the growing and remember to embrace every day, every stage, for the joys that it brings. When Kate wants to rock a little longer, or Sam wants to crawl in my bed and cuddle, I want to remember that these days are short and take every snuggle I can get.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Wiggly (or Wiggling) Party
Sam had this super loose tooth. I mean, loose. It’s the bottom left center one, right next to the gaping hole left by the last tooth. Unfortunately, the big catch is that the permanent tooth (also known as the “big” tooth), is already coming in behind it. And it’s crooked. We’ve been watching it for about a week.
On Thursday I called the dentist’s office and asked about it. They said that it would be good for the baby tooth to come out so the lip and tongue movement could work on bringing the new tooth into alignment. (That sounds like a pipe dream to me, but whatever.) She said if it wasn’t out by sometime this next week, they could “help” (aka pull).
So Stuart and I told Sam on Friday that he needs to really get to work on wiggling that tooth. Really. Because it needs to come out by Sunday night.
Sunday night comes along, and of course the tooth is hanging in there. Stuart, being the benevolent and caring father that he is, told Sam that they would make a coordinated effort of wiggling and wiggling and wiggling the tooth all night until it “falls” out. So they did. For hours. At one point I was invited to take a turn and declined.
Sure enough, the tooth finally came out. Did you know that the tooth fairy often has extra money on Sunday night because it’s the beginning (or end?) of the week? Apparently, this is true, because Sam scored $2 from the tooth fairy on Monday morning. Sweet.
On Thursday I called the dentist’s office and asked about it. They said that it would be good for the baby tooth to come out so the lip and tongue movement could work on bringing the new tooth into alignment. (That sounds like a pipe dream to me, but whatever.) She said if it wasn’t out by sometime this next week, they could “help” (aka pull).
So Stuart and I told Sam on Friday that he needs to really get to work on wiggling that tooth. Really. Because it needs to come out by Sunday night.
Sunday night comes along, and of course the tooth is hanging in there. Stuart, being the benevolent and caring father that he is, told Sam that they would make a coordinated effort of wiggling and wiggling and wiggling the tooth all night until it “falls” out. So they did. For hours. At one point I was invited to take a turn and declined.
Sure enough, the tooth finally came out. Did you know that the tooth fairy often has extra money on Sunday night because it’s the beginning (or end?) of the week? Apparently, this is true, because Sam scored $2 from the tooth fairy on Monday morning. Sweet.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Second Chance
As you know, Kate has been working diligently on potty training. However, the end of last week was a little rough. I’m not sure if she just got tired of trying or what, but it was an accident-a-day type of weekend.
On Wednesday, we were making pumpkin bread together in the kitchen and Kate passed some gas. Loudly. Of course, she and Sam thought that was truly hysterical. Then it happened again. Of course, like a good mommy, I asked “Do you need to go potty?” each time.
“No. No potty,” she said adamantly.
So, I didn’t worry about it anymore and got back to the baking, while she and Sam went down the hall. The next thing I hear is a “Potty!” from Kate.
By the time I get down there, we’ve already got a bit of a mess on our hands, as she is trying to get her pants off, but there is already some evidence, if you know what I mean. So I rush in to help and think I’ve got it very well contained until something happens and it goes falling to the floor. Great.
So, I start my mom-lecture, a skill that I am perhaps a little too good at considering my kids are so young. “Kate, you have got to use the potty when you need to go to the bathroom. This is just yucky. Too yucky. Way yucky.”
From the stairs in the hall comes a little helpful voice, my own personal Jiminy Cricket: “Mom, I think she just kind of needs a second chance. I mean, that’s what I think.”
Darn. So I switched into love mode and agreed that she’d been very good to try so hard to get to the potty and that she was a big girl for wearing big girl panties. I just hate it when Sam’s right.
On Wednesday, we were making pumpkin bread together in the kitchen and Kate passed some gas. Loudly. Of course, she and Sam thought that was truly hysterical. Then it happened again. Of course, like a good mommy, I asked “Do you need to go potty?” each time.
“No. No potty,” she said adamantly.
So, I didn’t worry about it anymore and got back to the baking, while she and Sam went down the hall. The next thing I hear is a “Potty!” from Kate.
By the time I get down there, we’ve already got a bit of a mess on our hands, as she is trying to get her pants off, but there is already some evidence, if you know what I mean. So I rush in to help and think I’ve got it very well contained until something happens and it goes falling to the floor. Great.
So, I start my mom-lecture, a skill that I am perhaps a little too good at considering my kids are so young. “Kate, you have got to use the potty when you need to go to the bathroom. This is just yucky. Too yucky. Way yucky.”
From the stairs in the hall comes a little helpful voice, my own personal Jiminy Cricket: “Mom, I think she just kind of needs a second chance. I mean, that’s what I think.”
Darn. So I switched into love mode and agreed that she’d been very good to try so hard to get to the potty and that she was a big girl for wearing big girl panties. I just hate it when Sam’s right.
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