Nightmares Courtesy of Disney...and her mother

To say that Annie's mind is a fascinating thing is a bit of an understatement. It goes quickly in directions I would never anticipate. She quickly can assess situations and understands more than I would ever imagine. But it's all through the lens of a 3.5 year old, so it can be a somewhat precarious trip.


We used to watch movies in silence. No questions, no comments. I am not even sure if she was paying attention, but rather just admiring the pretty colors and shapes on the TV.


No more.


We were watching Tarzan yesterday morning, because we wanted to see if the parents in Tarzan were the same as the parents who were lost at sea in Frozen (long story).


If you will recall, the shipwrecked family of the boy that will become Tarzan builds themselves a nice little tree fort and all is well until a pesky leopard (who is much more frightening looking than I recall...I would post a pic but I am terrified of Disney copyrights) comes and kills them dead. Tarzan somehow miraculously hides/escapes. He is found in the now-destroyed hut by a mama gorilla. Here's how it went:


A: Where are his mommy and daddy? (chin quivering, me sensing this might not be a good idea)
K: well, they died. The mama gorilla is going to save the baby.
A: Save the baby from what?
K: Well the leopard, like the ones we saw at the zoo, killed the mommy and daddy (firmly aware this is going off the rails at this point)
A: Why the zoo monster kill his mommy and daddy?
K: Some animals, like this leopard, eat other animals, that's how nature works.


three seconds for this to sink in.


A: ZOO MONSTERS EAT BABIES????? (full on tears instantly flowing)


I expect our next trip to the zoo to be a real treat, that is, if Annie ever has any desire to run the risk of being a snack for a zoo monster.

Midnight Pears

We have finally joined a church and have been attending fairly regularly. I have always prayed with the kids before bed (whether they realize it or not) but usually Annie would interrupt me and we would go of on some other tangent and I would circle back to quietly finish the prayer as I sat with her.


But lately Annie has been saying she's "scared" at night. Now, who knows if this is just a ploy for additional parent time or if she is actually scared of the dark? But either way, part of my prayer is that Angels will watch over them and keep them safe while they sleep.


After about 1,523 questions from Annie about these "angels" (do they have wings? are they "ghostses"? how big are they? can you see them, mommy? do they like my room?) I think she finally has accepted the night time prayer and finds comfort in the angel portion of it.


Last night Rick put Annie to bed and I just gave her a quick kiss goodnight and started getting ready for bed myself.


At midnight I hear her padding over to Rick's side of the bed:


A: Mommy needs to see my pants.
R: What? What about your pants? Do you have to go to the bathroom?
A: No, my pears. Mommy needs to see my pears.
R: .....rolls over..."she wants you"


Annie and I walk back into her room and she is talking about her pears and how I forgot them. At this point I think she's sleepwalking and just tuck her back in because, pears????


But she isn't having it. She jolts back up in bed and demands pears.


Me: I don't know what you are talking about with the pears.
Annie: You know mommy, like God?


Oh.....I forgot to say your prayers.


Thank you, God, for these sweet babes. I promise I won't ever forget their pears again.

JOHN IS ONE!!!!

Dear John,
I am at a loss for words.

You are one. 365 days old. You have made our family complete. You are my big little boy. You are so very very busy. And so very very happy.

It's really hard for me to believe it's been a year. On one hand, it seems like you were a tiny baby about three weeks ago. But then it also seems like it's been an eternity since I was in that hospital room getting ready to have you. Rick and I thought and thought about it and couldn't even remember where we went for dinner the night before you were born. That's pretty lame. Of course, we might only remember the "last meal" before Annie was born because it was KFC and so incredibly random and horrible.

But I do remember that there was a large snow storm the day before we went to the hospital. And I remember your Dad went and got us all donuts (an apple fritter for me) the morning before we went in for our induction. I remember that I loved looking out my hospital window and seeing snow covered hills and Christmas lights and thinking how special it would be to have a new baby home at Christmas.

I remember thinking it was uncanny how similar your birth was to your sister's, and how thankful I am that I can push a baby out so quickly, since you both had your cords wrapped around your bodies. I was so thankful this time to get to have you in my room with me instead of a baby in the NICU.
 

I remember thinking it was so odd that when we had a baby in the NICU, we had to watch a video on infant CPR before we could take Annie home. Since you were not in the NICU, we had to watch a video on not shaking a baby. Weird, but true. I remember being thankful that I got to change your diaper and swaddle you before we took you home, because, let's face it, I needed a little refresher course on that stuff.


I remember that your Dad went home both nights so he could get a good night's sleep (at my insistence). I had your bassinet right next to me and didn't sleep at all the first night. I kept rolling over to look at you. It was so quiet and peaceful. And I tried not to worry about you, or worry about your sister. Or worry about how we were going to survive again with an infant.


But you were so good. So sweet. I loved having you with me from the beginning. And while I haven't stopped worrying about you or your sister, I have stopped worrying about how we will get through. What I have learned in the last few years is that we are a team. And you fit right in. Right now, your "job" (as Annie likes to say) is to make us all smile, give Annie someone to play with, and to give me a new appreciation for a full night's sleep. We have all stepped up our game in the last year, and it's been the best one yet.


So while we don't have a bunch of staged photos of you in a perfect birthday outfit, with a perfect birthday cake with perfect birthday lighting, and none of that will likely ever happen in your lifetime, I can promise that I will do my best to give you our version of perfect birthdays for as long as you will let me. So while it might not always be pretty, it will be fun and happy and loving, which sounds about perfect to me.

Happy birthday, sweet Boy. I love you so incredibly much,
Mom

2 weeks from ONE YEAR OLD

Dear John,

My sweet, sweet, baby J. I am so sorry. I had every intention of documenting your life here, but that's just not happening. We are busy with you and your sister and working and holidays and day to day that this just keeps getting pushed aside.

You are crawling. Fast. When we found out we were having a boy, everyone warned us that boys are a handful, but I quickly dismissed it, saying that Annie was a really busy and active kid and I couldn't imagine a boy being much different. Well. Let's just say, you are much different.

Let's just say, you are excellent at hazard identification. You notice/seek out the most dangerous things possible. Things Annie never glanced twice at. Things I would never even think could be a hazard until I see you slowly creeping up towards it, eyeing me over your shoulder to see if I am watching.

For example: The Christmas Tree. We put it up on Friday. I worried about you pulling the tree down on top of you because what baby wouldn't be fascinated with the hundreds of sparkling, ACCESSIBLE twinkle lights. I anticipated pulling you away from the tree 157 times the first day, you being drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

What actually happened: You didn't even give it a second glance. It would have been impossible for you to care less about the tree. You were, however, immediately drawn to the electric cord leading from the tree to the wall.

So that's awesome.

Thankfully you are more interested in the sooty fireplace tools than the fireplace itself. For now.

As they say, you are all boy. You love to get dirty and are always on the move. That, I was prepared for, thanks to your big sister. You no longer want to be held. You want to be crawling or climbing. You love slides and to crawl on top of Annie's chair. You love your cow blankie SERIOUSLY. If it's not in your hand, you are grunting around until you find it.

You are a bit more of a picky eater than your sister was at this age. But then, there's zero consistency. You will like something one day, and then make a face at it the next. The only thing you have not turned your nose up at yet is cantaloupe. Go figure.

You still take a bottle 3-4 times a day. You eat about 60% table food and still like baby foods/purees. You take two naps, usually 1-2 hours a piece. You are still in size 4 diapers. You have four bottom teeth and two top teeth, with a third making its way through as I type this.

You are loud and funny and sweet and cuddly (sometimes). Annie loves you SO much and you love her. You look for her every morning and always want to play with her. You all have started "play fighting" where she chases you and presses your bottom into the ground when she catches you. You howl with laughter and think it's the funniest thing ever. It has aged me about 10 years. I guess this is only the beginning. 



Thirty years from now I want to remember your "fuzzy duck" hair, how you think it's so funny when I pretend your socks are stuck and smell your feet and make a big production about how stinky they are. I want to remember how much you love the bath and how every night before bed I lay your cow over my shoulder and you lay your head down and we say our prayers before I put you in your crib. I want to remember how much you love music and dancing and how you do this little wiggle dance when you are eating something you really like.

I love you, sweet boy.

~mom

This Time, With Feeling

There are few things I have delighted in more than watching a child learn the English language. And with the start of school, Annie is learning all sorts of new, fun words. She now says exciting things like "frustrated" and "suffocate" and "emergency". I am not sure exactly what is going on at school. We are kind of on a "don't ask/don't tell" policy at this point.

Along with learning new words comes learning proper inflection, which is probably my favorite. Annie is very enthusiastic about almost everything and so random words are always getting screamed or stretcccchhhheeed ouuuuuuuttt. Or stretched out while screaming. It's awesome.

Yesterday we were headed out to pick up a doll that will assist her in learning how to perform basic tasks like zipping zippers and buttoning buttons. Because God forbid her parents help her with that. (the doll won't bleed when she starts swinging out of frustration -fun new word- when she can't button her shirt properly) Every man for themselves and all that.

We missed the turn for our house and Annie asked where we were going:

Me: to pick up something

Annie: What? A sooo-prise? For me?

Me: I guess it's a surprise. I am not sure how you are going to feel about it.

Annie: Oh mom, I am sure I will feel A LOT about it.

The doll made it home. After one failed attempt at buttoning the button, and a swift jab to the doll's midsection (frustration), it sits on our dining room table.

Turns out, she didn't feel a lot about it. So frustrating.



A documented first, almost 10 months

Dear John,

While there have been loads of firsts for you already (first solids-4 months, first rolling over-around 6 months, first tooth-7.5 months), almost none of it has been documented here. I remember I documented the first time your sister shed HER FIRST TEAR. That's some serious first time parent crap right there. But yet you bounce blissfully along, undocumented in all your cute glory. I am so sorry, sweet boy.

I don't think the documentation will get any better since you are fully mobile now. As of last week (9.5 months), you are fully mobile and into EVERYTHING. My once docile little hunk is now seemingly incapable of sitting still. And you love to stand. No more time to sit and play with toys. Everything must be reached and once that particular item is obtained, you move on to something else almost instantly.

In light of the changing weather and your new mobility, I figured it was time for some shoes. Now I should add that I had received multiple pairs of cute and fashionable shoes as hand me downs from other friends, but let's just say they didn't quite fit your...ahem...robust foot situation. We needed professional assistance so the fam headed out to the local children's shoe experts this weekend.

You hated it.

Ha-TED it. I am sure those in the front of the store thought you were getting your vaccines or something by how hard you were crying. The salesperson said she had never seen a reaction like that and was clearly troubled by the exchange and said she wasn't going to sleep that night because of how you wailed every time she came near. They had exactly one pair of shoes in stock that fit your perfect portly peds. They wouldn't normally be my first choice, but you wear them well.

Rick said he was just thrilled they had something that fit and didn't emerge from the back with two burlap sacks and a roll of duct tape.

Sporting the size five, double wides, almost in need of a Velcro extension.

And I am not going to dwell on how big you look in them. You are, and will always be, my baby. 

An Outing

Fall in our house is full of outings. Carnivals, zoo trips, playgrounds. You name it. Anything to be outside when it's not one billion, or zero, degrees outside. This past weekend was one of our favorites, the Best of Missouri fair at the Botanical Gardens. There's a ton of good food, beers, talented artists (who knew there were so many woodworkers in Missouri???), and then, as if that's not enough, there's a whole setup for the kids. We were there for a good four hours. Thanks to my incorrect interpretation of a map, there was no southern exit from the park, so we walked the ENTIRE garden. For the last hour I was cautious with the kids as it was dangerously close to (and then past) nap time, Annie was running on fumes from samples of toffee, and John had been in the stroller on and off for three hours.

But there were no melt downs. Annie ran and ran and looked at bridges and fish and beautiful flowers and John strolled and it was basically the perfect day. I even asked Annie if she was getting tired and she said "Yes, and I think I am getting angry". But she never actually got angry. 

J and I hung out in the pumpkin patch while annie got her face painted.

"Mommy! That fish got me!"

Rick had to pretend like he didn't place her in this tree himself when approached by the garden staff. It's every man for himself in this family.

I mean, she milked.a.cow. "I squeezed it really hard. There was no milk. That cow might be broken."

Further proof that Annie really isn't afraid of (or grossed out by) anything.

J again escapes the stroller to pose for the camera.

So until the weather turns horrible, we will be squeezing the life out of St. Louis in the fall. Then you probably won't hear from us for 4-5 months.