Parenting Pop-Quiz

This is for all the parents and future parents out there.  Can you figure out what Charlie is doing and join in before he gets frustrated??

"Aaaaaaah,"

"In-she-shoo"

"Clap hands!"

Stumped?  I certainly was.  Charlie broke into this little ditty last night while I was changing his diaper.  He was absolutely delighted with himself, and I could tell I was supposed to join in, but I was clueless. 

Thankfully, Charlie is not easily frustrated.  In fact, yesterday afternoon on our way home from school he buckled himself in his carseat after about 2 minutes of trying.  With a little encouragement (and assistance -- I had to move his shirt so he could see the buckle), he got it.  The secret was to hold the two sides of the buckle close enough to the tips to aim, but far enough back to have the necessary leverage to push it closed.

Anyway, after about 10 rounds of his new song, I took a stab and the dark and I was right!  So...do you think you've got it?

"If you're happy and you know it,"

"Then your face will surely show it!"

"If you're happy and you know it"

"Clap your hands!"

All three of us have been clapping up a storm since last night...but one word of warning, it's not a good idea to start a round of "In-she-shoo" as you're backing down the driveway, because it's impossible to clap your hands while driving.  We did move on to "Stomp your feet", but it takes considerable concentration to remember to only stomp your left foot, and the back of my drivers seat is now covered with mud and grass.

Nevertheless, it was well worth it.  I had no idea how amazing it would feel to know that a 23 month old is proud of me!

You got it, Mommy!

A Man's Job

There is a new obsession at our house, and it's just as powerful as pancakes, trucks and Big Bird -- Forts!

It started off pretty simple, we would just put Charlie's blanket over his head and tell him he was in a fort or "fork," as he prefers to call it, but over the past week our forts have grown, as has my understanding of the phenomenon.

You see, as a child I loved it when my mom mopped the kitchen floor, because Angie and I could line up the kitchen chairs and cover them with blankets to make a fort -- same basic structure each week, same blankets, same game; tons of fun.

If I were the family fort guru, I would most likely pull out the dining room chairs, or if I wanted something even simpler, scour Amazon.com for some sort of structure that I could just whip out and throw a blanket over on demand.  Tah-dah!  Kind of like manufactured housing.

Apparently, that is not how boys do forts. For boys (whether they be 23 months or 34 years), there is way more to it. The other night when Charlie begged for a fort, Jason actually mentioned that he'd been thinking about it throughout the day and had developed a few plans -- what!? Charlie was thrilled.

To date our forts have utilized the bar stools and couch (a bit risky, as Louie assumed the roof would hold him), the couch, the train and the book basket,  as well as  Jason's recliner, Charlie's recliner and the shutters (the favorite so far), but discussions have included counters, staple guns and various other contraptions.

Thankfully, Charlie was quick to realize that mom had little skill for this and saves the "fort, Fort, FORT!" mantra for Daddy.  From time to time I am invited in, but my primary job is to document the construction for posterity (and future analysis and planning, I am sure).

Old School

Boys Only

I tuck it, Daddy

Reading by the shop light

Eleven Honest Years

Today is my eleven year anniversary.  Not mine and Jason's.  Not mine at CenturyLink (nee EMBARQ, nee Sprint).  Not my mom and dad's.  Mine.

Eleven years ago today I believed me.  While I'm not likely to post any incriminating (aka embarrassing) pictures, I had a very unfortunate adolescence -- bad perms, bad skin, bad glasses, bad shape and worst of all, a bad attitude about it all.

A foodie from birth, I was a cuddly baby, a chubby child and a heavy tween -- so that by the time I started to thin out a bit in late highschool, my perception of myself was extremely skewed and at ten to fifteen pounds overweight, I felt obese.  To combat these feelings I dieted like a fiend in public and ate outrageous amounts of food in secret, and in July of 1993 I managed to make myself throw up for the first time after gorging myself at a baby shower.

It sounds crazy, but that day was something of an epiphany for me -- I thoughtI had finally figured out how to "control" my weight.  I was finally going to be thin (or so I thought) -- the most important quality in the world, the quality that would make me beautiful and charming and confident and kind.  The quality that would make people love me.

For six and a half years my weight and my moods fluctuated, but two things remained constant -- I was a liar and I was completely out of control.  I lied to everyone who knew me: my parents, my siblings, my friends, my coworkers, my classmates, my roommates, my employers, my first boyfriend and strangers on the street -- pretending to be charming, confident and kind when I was bitter, self-loathing and resentful.

I lied to myself every day saying "this time will be the last time" and every few weeks saying  "when I graduate highschool I'll stop," "when Christmas break ends I'll be better, " "when my birthday gets here I'll stop, " "when I find someone to love me I'll stop..." 

In the summer of 1998 I graduated college and jumped into adulthood, but the bulimia came right along with me.  Finally one Saturday morning after eating a dozen Mr. D's donuts, I admitted to myself that unless I fixed this I could never truly fall in love or get married or have a family or have the life I wanted, because I was a liar and I was out of control.  I opened the yellow pages and left a message for Dr. Mimi Zimmerman, an eating disorders specialist in Kansas City.

Despite the confusion of insurance, my refusal to take anti-depressants and my continued need to keep my struggle a secret, over two courses of eight weeks each, Mimi helped me see that my problem wasn't with food, but with my need to be in control of  who I was to myself and to others.  My fear wasn't of being fat, but of being alone. 

In the spring of 1999, after weeks of "incident-free" living, I binged and purged the night before my sixteenth session with Mimi.  I lied to her about my episode, and towards the end of our hour she told me that she didn't think we needed to continue, that my understanding of my motivations was obvious and my ability to deal with the stresses of life had improved.  Mimi said that I was "well", so I was.

For over 6 months I was "well" because Mimi had said so.  That fall in the midst of a painful breakup, a major career shift and other life changes, I started to binge again, and soon after, I started to purge again.  I lost the fight and my confidence.

Through that winter I learned to survive a bruised heart, I learned to play the corporate game and I learned that I could take care of myself.  Then on February 2, 2000 after my nightly binge/purge, I sat on the bed in my little studio apartment and asked myself why I could be "well" when Mimi said I was, but not on my own.  The answer?  Because I believed her.  So, on February 2, 2000 around 8:00 in the evening, I prayed to God for His strength and His guidance, I told myself I was well, and I believed me.

Someone important is obviously missing from the majority of this story-- God.  I have been a Christian since I was a small child, always believing that Jesus Christ was the Son of God, that He lived and died for my sins and that He is the only source of salvation, but for many yearsI chose to ignore God. 

I focused on my physical body and worldly concerns and pushed aside His love and His plan.  I went to church and I prayed during this time, but let's be honest, I prayed to be thin, to be loved and to be happy -- when all along God had created my body exactly how He wanted it, He loved me beyond my understanding, and His joy was right there for the taking.  He waited for me and saved me from my self-centeredness and fear when I was ready to let Him.

A few days later I perched on Jason's desk for the first time and took those very first, all important, baby steps into love.

Eleven years later I am not a liar, because I am worth honesty. I am not out of control because I don't try to be in control. I am not alone because I believe that I am worth the love that I receive from God, Jason, Charlie and everyone else who know the real me and loves her.

I regret my selfishness.  I regret my lies.  I regret all of the wasted tears and pleas and relationships, but I do not regret having suffered from bulimia, because I learned that I am worthwhile because God created me and that I can overcome anything with His help. 

I also learned that those people who seem the most "together" may be falling apart inside and may need my love and patience and prayers more than I could ever dream.

These lessons made me a better wife, daughter, sister and friend and prepared me to be Charlie's mom.

God's Time

This song could be the story of my life.  For all of my dear family and friends who, like me, find themselves wondering why things happen when and how and why they do.  It's not an easy answer, but I guess that just makes it all the more true.

Link:  In God's Time

Daddy Addict

After the weekend we had, I could hardly blame him, but on Tuesday morning I was fairly convinced that Charlie had successfully faked a stomach bug in order to stay home with Daddy.

Our fabulous weekend started early with Charlie staying home on Friday to help me wrap presents before meeting Daddy for a birthday lunch with his work friends.  Despite the fact that Charlie fell asleep on the way to lunch, he eventually perked up and enjoyed his pulled pork sandwich, half of Daddy's french fries and hamming it up for Daddy's coworkers.

Charlie then got to spend Friday evening with "Miss Jennfa" from church while Mommy and Daddy went to dinner and a comedy show with friends, and we definitely have a bit of a crush developing -- all day Saturday we heard, "Jennfa go?" -- too sweet!

The queries about Jennifer were mixed in amongst a cranberry muffin breakfast, helping Daddy open his birthday presents, learning to use the Kinect and Charlie's first trip to the boat show -- his response to which can be described as nothing other than "reverant awe".  Charlie was almost silent for the first hour, gaping at the boats and the people.  After his first bag of kettle corn he came to enough to try to climb into a couple boats and dance his way to a free whistle from the Sea Tow crew.

We capped off a fabulous day with dinner at Hucks on IOP overlooking the Atlantic.  Charlie had Gruyere and Bacon Mac n Cheese and split my pear Panacotta (aka Pear Pudding!) -- our little gourmand!

Sunday was full of church, a pizza party and a movie with his church friends, but we continued Daddy's birthday celebrations into Monday night with a traditional spaghetti and meatball family feast followed by angel food cake and custard and a Kinect track meet with our fabulous neighbors.  Charlie is a firm believer in the extended birthday, just like Mom and Dad.

So, after four days of Daddy-focused fun and adventure, I was suspicious when Jason called me Tuesday morning around 11:30 as I was pulling off Interstate 95 to head west towards Pine Hurst.  Charlie's daycare had just called and he had gotten sick twice, so Jason was en route to pick him up.  My immediate thought was to turn around, but Jason assured me that that was not why he had called -- that he'd even considered not telling me until I was home to avoid that response, but knew I would kill him.

While I would like to be able to say that my response was purely altruistic, and my only thought was of Jason's need to be at his job, to be honest, I love Charlie's sick days -- not that he's sick, but that I have him home with me and in a cuddly mood.  Once I was honest with myself, I gave up the thought of skipping the Sales Kickoff and heading home, after all, I guess Jason deserves a Charlie sick day every now and again, too.

Around 1:30 Tuesday afternoon, Jason texted me, "Charlie is on fire.  Amazing what a nap can do!"  Hmmmm...is my little boy a little faker?  Did he put it together that  since Mommy would be out of town until Wednesday, if he came home he'd get Daddy all to himself?

Well, by 3:30 my suspicions were put to rest...my own tummy started to clench and Jason confirmed via text that his was doing the same.  I managed to power through the rest of my Tuesday meetings and even the dinner that evening, then crawled into my hotel room bed at 8:15. 

By 4:15 Wednesday morning I completely gave up on sleep, got up, checked out and was on the road by 4:35.  My stomach had made it perfectly clear that I was not going to be sitting in meetings on Wednesday, and I knew I'd rather be sick at home than sick in a hotel. 

Apparently, 4:15 was also when Charlie gave up on sleep that night, so Jason was noticably relieved when I walked in around 8:00, while he was cleaning up the remnants of Big Bird, whom Louie had "mistaken" for his own toy.

The three of us spent Wednesday dozing to House Hunters and Sesame Street, eating bland food and making up new games, the highlight of which was a three hour nap from 11 to 1 -- for all of us!  While I would never wish this particular bug on anyone, there is no better way to spend a sick day than with your two favorite boys.

This morning Jason is back at work (hopefully all is going well!), I am up to about 85% and Charlie is still battling a bit of whiny tiredness, but we should all be 100% in time for another fabulous weekend!

Charlie wrapping some of "his" tootsies for Daddy

Testing out Daddy's new Fishing Pole from BaBa and PaPa

Setting up the Kinect

Whoa!  Boats!

Make a wish!

Daddy and Chad running hurdles

Calling Grandma to feel better

(he gets that from Mommy)

Word Games

Old News:  Regis Philbin is retiring this summer
Breaking News:  Charlie is intensively training to take over as host of "Live"

Back in late August when Charlie's vocabulary exploded, Jason and I teased that he was going to be a politician or a talk show host.  Well, it looks like everything's coming together for him to have his own morning show at 2 years old.  The kid is cracking us up -- complete sentences are old news.  He now likes to start conversations with strangers, to talk in paragraphs, and will do almost anything to get a laugh.

We're celebrating Jason's birthday with friends this Friday night by going to an Improv show downtown...if it didn't start at 9:00, we would probably take Charlie and let him try out his routine...he'd bring down the house.

Some of his latest and greatest in context:

"He woofening" - announced anytime a dog barks (live or on TV)

"Mama cookening" - given as play-by-play while I make his oatmeal or toast in the mornings

"How  'bout..." - repeated over and over with his fist to his chin and his index finger stroking his cheek, while he painstakingly picks and chooses the five crayons or five play-doh tools that he gets to use.  Saturday night at Chad and Corrisa's he did this so long that he never even colored!

"Could be Daddy" - any time any phone rings anywhere...even if Daddy is the one who answers it

"Cuppa Minute, Youie" - stated while holding out a hand in the "wait" position when Louie wants out of his kennel, but Charlie is busy gathering Daddy's input regarding which shirt he should wear, the Otis shirt, the blue airplane shirt or the white airplane shirt

"Youie, be wight back" - promised anytime he happens to be leaving a four foot radius around Louie

"I caywee you" - offered when I'm carrying Louie down the stairs in my left arm and Charlie wants to ride in my right arm, followed by "I caywee Youie" and "It ok, Youie" as soon as I scoop him up

"Great bite" or "Great bus" or "Great book" or "Great truck" - used in place of big (must be my Spanish literature background...grande?)

"I fast" - screamed after tucking his hands up under his armpits in preparation to run

"I no fit, Mama" - asserted when told to climb in his carseat yesterday afternoon, following a conversation in which I had told him he looked like he'd grown two inches during the day

"It's flying up high" - shouted while holding his peanut butter toast above his head prior to swooping it into his mouth

"The girls" - used as an answer to the question "Who are you going to see at school today?" after he's listed his teachers, i.e. Miss Jo-Jo, Miss Manda, Miss Bwendah, Miss Janet and "the girls"

And some of the not so greatest:

"Oh my goooosh!" - repeated over and over and over again the past couple of days, because Mommy obviously says it far too often -- ostensibly harmless coming from a 33 year old, but exposed as a useless and somewhat vulgar phrase when coming from a 22 month old

"Damnit" - oh yes, it happened.  Following Louie's millionth accident, Daddy let it slip the other day...luckily it didn't make too much of an impression and has been dropped

And, my all time favorite, a recent discussion on the way home from school:

Charlie: Jack n Jill, Jack n Jill, Jack n Jill...
Mommy: Where did Jack and Jill go?
Charlie: I don't know
Mommy:  Did they go up?
Charlie: Yes
Mommy: Where did they go up?
Charlie: Jack n Jill up the ladder
Mommy: The ladder?
Charlie:  Yeah.
Mommy: Why did Jack and Jill go up the ladder
Charlie:  To get a drink

Buh-boom-cha!

Recognizing the importance of versatility, Charlie is also working on his physical comedy:

I sit top, Mama!

I ride!

I seeping, Youie.

Power Outage 2011

I have to say that it is much less stressful to have the power go out at 5:15 in the evening with a pot of homemade chicken soup on the stove, a fire in the fireplace and your husband playing on the floor with the dogs than it was at 1 AM with Jason in Daytona last year!

Quick thinking had me throw the noodles in the soup within a couple minutes of the blackout, so we were still able to enjoy a "romantic" candle-lit dinner for three...followed by cozy fun and games in the living room until bedtime.  The shutters even kept Charlie's room warm enough to put him down up there -- and with the power coming back on at 8:00 (beating last year's time by 14 hours!), it was just a minor winter-blip in our day!

And best of all, with my new kindle and it's handy-dandy light, I was able to read the evening away until the power came on -- you gotta love technology!

"Boating" by firelight

Painful Lesson

While patience is definitely not one of my strengths, I proved to myself this afternoon that I have much more than I previously thought...

During round two of play-doh fun this afternoon, Charlie again dumped the entire bucket of tools and accessories on the floor.  This time, rather than pick them up for him (since I didn't have the deadline of a rapidly darkening grilled cheese sandwich), I helped him out of his seat and instructed him to pick up the toys and put them in the bucket.

My initial request was simply ignored, and he wandered off into the living room.  Upon being brought back to the kitchen and re-instructed to pick up his toys, Charlie said, "No!"

A bit taken aback, I asked him again, more nicely, to pick up his toys and explained that since Charlie dumped them out, Charlie was responsible for putting them away.  His response? "No!" only louder this time.

So, we had our first round of time out -- the end of which would be up to him, when he was ready to pick up his toys.  He quickly agreed to pick them up, after asking for a hug, so I put him down on the floor.

Charlie then proceeded to go empty out all of the random gadgets he'd recently stored in the stock pot and ended up back in time out -- this time staring me down, fully aware that it was taking every ounce of my self control to keep from laughing.

Upon his release from time out, I sat down on the floor with him and instructed him piece by piece by piece to pick up his toys and put them in the bucket...all 26 letters, 10 numbers and various "tools."  This kid is stubborn - almost as stubborn as his mom!

What you may ask was the incentive behind this manual labor...since time out obviously didn't serve as much of a deterrant?  Water.  Yes, water, sipped out of a small plastic shot glass was the carrot I dangled in front of him, and that, along with vigilant reminders provided the necessary motivation to get the job done.

After barely preventing Charlie from dumping the whole thing out again, I got up to fill up his cup, and Charlie found two more tools in his high chair.  I offered to put them away (to keep him away from the bucket), but he insisted on doing it himself. 

I could probably convince myself that I just successfully taught Charlie the value and necessity of putting away his toys, but in reality I think that it's more likely that the key lesson here is that my son is a force to be reckoned with and my patience is going to get quite the workout over the next 20 years...

Snow Day!

Who knew that snow days were even more fun as a mom?!

Due to the 38 degree temperatures and freezing rain, the state of South Carolina more or less shut down today, so I got to keep Charlie home with me.  With multiple bridges and all state governments closing down we thought Jason would get to stay home, too, but apparently the VA is the only organization that stays open in this kind of weather.

Like all of our Kansas City friends and family, I find the whole thing fairly ridiculous, but that doesn't mean we aren't enjoying every minute of it!  We've spent the day playing with the dogs, discovering that Louie is even less a fan of cold weather than Otis and doing a few loads of laundry while icicles form on the eaves and sleet patters at the window...to which Charlie loves to yell, "Hear that?!?" -- so funny.

The highlights of the day so far have been a marathon play-doh session during which we learned to use scissors and discovered that play-doh does not, in fact, taste like gingerbread cookie dough followed by some rousing games of "pockafoozie" while our grilled cheese cooked. (aka Ring Around the Rosie, "Pocket Full of Posies".

Right now the plan is for me to shower and change from the sweats I slept in to a new pair while Charlie naps, after which he'll take a bath and do the same...then some cars and Sesame Street before we make chicken soup to warm Daddy up after his day facing the bitter South Carolina winter -- hah!  I love it!

Tah-dah!

Oops...Mom, I have no idea how this happened!

Brrrrrr.....

Point Taken...

Louie disappeared this evening. 

For all intents and purposes, he is all black, so seeing him beyond the swingset is near impossible.  One minute he was there, the next minute he was gone.  Jason started the search, but when I laughingly came out and asked if he'd found Louie and he said "No," I joined in. 

I was searching close to the house and realized that as grown up as Charlie is, we really couldn't both be out and about searching, so I went in -- Charlie quickly let me know that I was not his preferred parent of the moment, so I grabbed Otis and sent him on a recon mission then sent Jason inside.

While Otis happily chased Oakley, I scoured the perimeters of our house, Bob's house and Garret's house -- as far as Louie had ever been, but I kept hearing a high-pitched barking from up near Butternut.  So, certain that that was Louie calling for me, stuck in some hole or something, I headed up the mud road and into the brush...in my flip flops...without my cell phone. 

After about fifteen minutes I heard Jason yelling for Louie and realized he'd successfully put Charlie down and was back on the hunt...not a good sign.  A dozen puddles and a ditch later, after stopping many times when the barking stopped, waiting for it to start up again, I gave up and began the trudge home, picturing Jason's, Charlie's and even Otis' faces when Louie still wasn't back by tomorrow. 

I realized that as annoying as it is to have to take him out in the rain every 30 minutes and still clean up his messes as soon as we come back in, I've grown to love the little critter over the past week. And as territorial and spoiled as Otis is, he would be lost without him...not to mention Charlie.  Jason would probably take it best of any of us, and it's his dog.

About one hundred yards from home I saw Jason shining his flashlight my way.  I glumly shined mine at him...hoping he realized it wasn't a sign of success, hating the thought of him believing I'd found Louie when in fact I'd just given up.

Then Jason yelled, "I've got him".  I was stunned.  I was prepared to learn and suffer from all the lessons having to do with neglecting our pets by looking away for a minute and not having a fence and the trauma this would cause Otis and Charlie, etc...but Louie was found!

He'd been in Bob's garage the entire time!  Did I mention that I saw the pedestrian door open and was going to look, but got distracted by the distant dog barks.  Yeah...

So, Louie's fine.  My OluKai's are quite possibly ruined.  Otis and Charlie are pleasantly sleeping.  And me, well I realized that as annoying as dog pee is, Louie is one of the family and I wouldn't have it any other way.

The genius figuring out the dog bowl

The genius figuring out the dog bed

Our Louie

A new strategy...

I need some advice...as crazy as it sounds, lately I've found myself envying people who "get" to go to a job every day and leave their to-do lists behind. 

I started working from home in September, 2006 and for a long time I cherished the ability do so much  while I worked.  During conference calls I can easily run/empty the dishwasher, change/fold the laundry, make the bed,  plan/start dinner, make a grocery list and more.  Plus,  since I take lunch whenever I feel like it, I can squeeze in grocery shopping, exercising, walking the dog, doctors appointments, cleaning the house, etc -- all while getting my work done ahead of schedule. 

In the past two years I've even been able to add Charlie's sick days, picture uploads, blogging, additional laundry, and volunteering my administrative skills for church.  With a managable workload and the ability to set my own deadlines for everything else, it's seemed like a win-win situation for a long time -- Jason and I have felt extremely blessed that I've been able to handle so many of the logistics and little things, so we can relax in the evenings and on the weekends.

But lately I find myself despising the fact that it's so easy to just run upstairs and change the load of laundry or empty the dishwasher or stop by the store on the way home from daycare...because I have no excuse not to do it, and in the end, I find myself stressing out over my spreadsheets because I need to change the laundry, then get upstairs to run by 11:30, so I'm done by 12:30 for a call, then finish my work and squeeze in a shower,  but still start dinner by 4:00 before I go pick up Charlie so I can play with him when he gets home...while finishing dinner and tidying up the house, running the vacuum to rid the house of dead grass and hopefully folding the load of laundry sitting in the dryer before Jason's shirts are irrevocably wrinkled...

Obviously, something's got to give, but I'm just not sure how to go about it.  How does one escape the guilt of saying no to herself and allowing the dog toys to remain in the middle of the living room -- especially when all of the people that work away from home would give their right arms to get a few more things done during the day and probably want to smack me for complaining (rightly so!)

I guess I just need to figure out how to give myself a little leeway on days when I have pressing deadlines or overlapping conference calls -- but how?  I feel like such a slacker when I don't get it all done, since I'm home all day, which leads to some very grumpy mornings when I look at my to-do list and my work schedule and realize that it's just not going to happen.  Any suggestions?

In positive news...we're making serious progress in other fronts...

Charlie is starting to earn his keep and do some of the heavy lifting around here:

and Otis is caving despite his best intentions:

A new baby...

Well, since we can't seem to control when/if Charlie will get a new sibling, we went ahead and got one for Otis.  Meet Louie...our new baby.  I have to say I forgot how much work a puppy could be, but Charlie absolutely adores him and Otis is slowly coming around.

At this point, we are letting Charlie "hold" Louie on his lap once a day in a somewhat useless effort to prevent him from picking Louie up by his back legs and/or head.  Thankfully, Louie is a trouper.

Like Otis, though, Louie hates the cold weather, so these 30 degree temperatures in the morning are not helping our potty training efforts...looks like we're going to try the litter box route like we did with Otis.  I just keep telling myself that eventually he will learn that if he goes to the bathroom outside his life will be much nicer...at which point life will be much nicer for all of us -- and I may even end up with a brand new living room rug out of the deal!

Merry Christmas!

Tolerance

Louie prefers Otis' bed to his own

(another Little Napolean)

Sun Bathing

Again, trying to be like Otis

Back in the Swing...

Following ten days of cousins and aunts and uncles and BaBa and PaPa, not to mention a long list of "Greats" in Kansas City and a 12:15 AM arrival home Tuesday morning, Charlie actually slept in until 8:40 yesterday! 

The extra two morning hours combined with a fabulously slow work schedule enabled me to unpack and find homes for four suitcases full of stuff, restock the refrigerator and still pick up Charlie from school a little bit early and make dinner!

Now the house is back together, the three of us are back on schedule and Otis is slowly coming around to forgiving us for abandoning him, but Charlie is still a bit confused.  He definitely got used to having an abundance of cousins and friends and grandparents around for mutual entertainment and laughs.  I don't think we've gone 20 minutes without him asking about Tyler or Elizabeth or Grampy or Nanie or Tom or Abby or Alexis or Mal-Mal or Ellie or one of his many Aunts and Uncles...and I know we haven't gotten in the car without him immediately requesting "BaBa House?" as if I'm a paid chauffeur.  Last night he even ran off with the phone in order to "call Landon".

But who can blame him? We had more fun adventures in Kansas City than I could possibly sum up in one entry...so here is Our Twelve Days of Christmas

Twelve train cars rolling

Eleven mornings dawning

Ten frames of bowling

Nine tools a buzzing

 Eight candies missing

Seven cousins asking

Six (million) geese a flying

Five cookie sheets

Four toddlers driving

Three axels turning

Two parents smiling

and One very merry Charlie!

A Mom for Christmas

Despite all of the festivities, the cold weather and the copious amounts of food, Jason and I both are having  a hard time believing it's Christmas.  We have thoroughly enjoyed our time with friends and family, and seeing Charlie catch on to the gift and candy aspects of the holiday has been hilarious, but it just doesn't feel like Christmas.  Maybe it's because we were so busy between Thanksgiving and Christmas or because we came to Kansas City so early in the month...I don't really know.

In an effort to get more into "the spirit" of Christmas, I have focused my Bible reading this week on the first couple chapters of both Matthew and Luke -- the accounts of Jesus' birth.   As with most of us, I am very familiar with the history of Mary and Joseph and the angels and shepherds -- though careful reading does confirm my former pastor's assertion that the magi have no place in the nativity seen...they didn't show up for months or years. 

Anyway, what has struck me most this week is Luke 2:19 when following the wonder of the shepherds "Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart."  Despite the absolutely extraordinary circumstances of her pregnancy and the amazing person of her son, Mary was just a mom who adored her baby boy and wanted to remember every single second of his life.

I'm sure that she felt that time was going too quickly and Jesus was growing up too fast.  She probably laughed when he took his first step and cried when he skinned his first knee.  For the first time, it is clear to me just how "human" Jesus was -- even though he was God. 

He was a little boy with a Mommy who adored him, before anyone else knew him and continued to adore him in ways no one else could, because she knew him better than anyone other than God.  Amazing.

Christmas Fun

I've never considered myself particularly slow...but it apparently took a while for my expectations for Charlie's Christmas to reach a realistic level.

After the Living Christmas Story debacle, I practically ruined Santa for him...  First, I introduced him to Santa in a yard on the way home from school, and the whole way home he kept repeating, "Hi, Satan!"  Let's just say that my inability to contain my laughter didn't help the situation.

Over the next couple of days Jason and I worked very hardto correct the slight dyslexia, and by Sunday Charlie was hooked on the safer, "Santi" -- good enough for us. 

Well, that afternoon Santa was visiting our neighborhood, so I planned to squeeze in a visit between church, the post-church luncheon, naptime and having the Sereika's over for dinner.  Santa arrived in the neighborhood around 2:15, about 10 minutes after Charlie went down for nap, but since our neighborhood is brimming with kids, I though there was a chance he would still be there when Charlie woke up at 4:00.

After rushing him into a clean diaper and jacket and tossing him in the stroller, we hurried down the street with a very doubtful Daddy in tow, to find the clubhouse completely deserted.  Of course, in order to explain the rush to Charlie, I had promised to take him to see Santa, so the whole way back to the house, he was whining, "Santi, go?"  Way to go, Mom... 

At the last minute we visited a giant blow-up Santa in the front yard of a house on Scrapbook Lane, but it wasn't the same and Charlie knew it.

Being two for two in the Christmas Cheer department, I decided to cut my losses and not plan any other festivities for fear of ruining Christmas for Charlie forever -- possibly the best decision I had made yet.

We have spent the past week saying "Hi" to the Christmas tree twenty or thirty times a day, opening our Advent calendars every two to three days and thoroughly enjoyed the Advent chocolate (tastes the same as it did 30 years ago!), practicing "Ho-ho" (still working on that last "ho"), baking for Christmas parties, pulling the bows off presents, hunting for Santas "hiding" in the Christmas Tree, shouting "brrrr" while playing in real-life winter weather, learning to the true story of Christmas with our other Advent Calendar and nativity clings for the back window and loving our little family and all of the amazing friends in our life.

In other words, I finally got it -- we've spent the past week being a one year old learning about Christmas and enjoying the little things -- lesson learned.

Sous Chef

I knew it was coming...  Charlie just hasn't been completely himself this week.  He's been in a fairly good mood and hasn't had a fever, but he's just been a little off-kilter with some major energy swings, from manic to dragging and back again.  Then to top it off we had to get his second round flu shot yesterday afternoon...so we were doomed.

Charlie woke up in a great mood this morning, but his eyes were a little droopy.  Having a touch of a sore throat and congestion myself, I went ahead and took him to school since he was fever-free, thinking that he'd enjoy himself more there than here.  Well, at 9:50 school called and he had a fever.  I definitely wasn't surprised.

Since he wasn't quite ready to go down for his nap when we got home, I set him up with a snack and started to work on the noisy parts of preparing the cheesecake that I was making for tomorrow night -- crushing the graham crackers and slicing the cranberries -- better now than while he's napping. 

Watching me "cooking" perked Charlie right up, so I brought his high chair over to watch.  Pretty soon he was standing on a kitchen chair hammering away at the graham crackers.  Then he had his first and second lessons in pressing a graham cracker crust (I forgot to spray the pan the first time), and even got to use the hand mixer after pouring in the lemon juice and eggs.

As crummy as we were both feeling, we had a blast, and imagine my delight when Charlie's favorite part was doing the dishes -- if only it stays that way!  It reminded me so much of sick days when I was a kid, baking cookies with my mom.  Obviously today's fun will probably be lost in Charlie's subconscious, since he's so young, but I can't wait to make more of the same memories with him and turn sick days into Mommy-Charlie days, just like they were Mommy-Jenny days so long ago.

Pat, pat, pat

Mom's kind of power tools

 One more cranberry and it's perfect!

Fa-la-la-la...yeah, whatever...

Wednesday mornings are always a bit hectic around here.  It's trash day -- Charlie's favorite day of the week.  We spend the rest of the week explaining to him why he can't push the trash can to the street, but on Wednesdays it's all worth it.  Lately, though,  the cold weather and Jason's longer work days mean that I need to have him fed, dressed and bundled about 45 minutes earlier than other days...

Despite a second helping of oatmeal and lost mittens this morning, we were ready to go and Charlie and Daddy fully enjoyed trash --even getting the chance to chat with Bob! 

Around 8:20 I ran out to start the car, and as I was walking up the stairs to "seek" Charlie I was feeling a bit overwhelmed trying to figure out when I was going to schedule his flu shot, finish the Christmas cards, buy eight more Christmas gifts, run by the grocery store, prepare an appetizer and dessert for tonight's Christmas party, a side dish for Saturday's Christmas tea and a dessert for Saturday night's Christmas party, complete my weekly report, clean the house for Sunday night's dinner guests, get the laundry done, get Charlie to/from school, hopefully run on the treadmill and if I'm lucky, wash my hair for the first time since Sunday...

About five stairs from the top, I spotted Charlie on the landing chewing...something.  He immediately raced into the guest room, where I caught up with him to discover he'd found a piece of gum -- and didn't really know what to think.  My frustrated morning appeared to be turning into a Hallmark commercial, as I took a deep breath, laughed and persuaded Charlie to spit the gum into my hand... Such a sweet reminder of the life experiences and laughter, right?

Well, unlike a Hallmark commercial, we had no fade to black.  Charlie immediately rushed away, yelling "poop" then proceeded to roll around like a maniac on his changing table while I tried to change him and keep us both clean.  He continued rolling while I shoved his feet into his sneakers downstairs then initiated a game of tag, yelling "I FUHnee" when I tried to get him into his coat.

After a battle to get him into the carseat, punctuated with "I Char-char" (meaning: I do it myself), I realized that I had failed to turn the heat on when I started the car, so it was still freezing and covered in frost...and the check engine light is on...  Ugghhhh...

So much for Hallmark...today is feeling more like one of those old Calgon commercials...but someone turned the TV off before I could be transported into a peaceful, warm bubble bath...

I'm convinced that the recent manic pace of our life is designed to teach me some sort of important lesson...but whenever I try to figure it out that annoying new American Express commercial keeps coming to mind (too much TV lately maybe?) where the lady is talking about how she's saving the world one baby at a time by developing her own highly successful and lucrative line of organic baby food, and she and her husband have enough AmEx points to pay for visits across the country to all of the local, independent, organic farmers that provide her fruits and vegetables... 

At first I feel like a complete slacker, because I'm having trouble keeping up with one child, a house, a job and some volunteer work during the Christmas season -- but then I come to my senses and wonder why on earth anyone would spend free travel dollars doing anything other than jetting straight to a private beach without phones, computers, grocery stores or battery powered toys, where she can just lay in the sun while her husband brings her fruity umbrella drinks and her son digs holes in the sand...

Obviously, I haven't learned my lesson yet, but I am feeling cautiously optimistic about completing my four hours of meetings, appetizer and dessert and possibly even squeezing in a shower before I get Charlie and whisk him off to the Christmas Party where we'll meet Dad who's coming straight from work...of course, if his runny nose turns into something more serious, I could get a call from school at any moment then everything will be tossed back in the air...so we shall see.

Oh, and I'm sorry for no pictures...Charlie's aversion to them seems to have passed, but I just haven't had time to take any this week.  I'll do better!