Life is like a pile of Mimis



A quick history in Erwin Lexicon before I start this post:

Annie had a lovey that was a bunny. She had a friend that had the same lovey, but it was a lamb and the friend called it "lamby". So Annie called her similar lovey "whammy" (how a baby pronounces Lamby). Annie called her binkies "Mimis".

Then, comes along and he calls his binkies "see-sees" and calls his lovey his "mimi".

Is anyone still reading this?

Yes? ok, I will proceed with the point.



These are John's Mimis. We had roughly 12 of them at one point. To all new parents out there, my #1 piece of advice is if your child is even remotely attached to something, buy 175 of them and have them in a constant rotation from the get-go.

Here is a solo Mimi, just so you can see the adorable cow face.

Annie and John both loved their sweet whammy/mimis hard. Annie carried hers wherever she went for a solid 4 years until she started school. Up until that point, I had visions of her sewing her whammy into the lining of her coats as she grew up, just to have it close by. But then, she started to drift from the whammy and the next thing I knew, they were all tucked away in a bin in her closet, only to be accessed by a complete psychopath to smell them every now and then.

Side Note: Motherhood makes you totally crazy.

With John, he had so many that my strategy of having multiples sort of backfired and he was a mimi junkie. One was never enough. He had to sleep with 2-3 at a time, which is why he ended up with so many. Not to mention the geniuses over at Angel Dear (the manufacturers of these little gems) came up with this brilliant marketing tool where they sell them in packs of three (a pair and a spare). So our mimi habit was basically enabled by these people selling 3-packs of baby crack.

But somewhere along the line, since we have been in the new house, I have noticed the requests for Mimis have diminished. He wants his Red Power Ranger or his Avengers blanket at night. I hadn't really thought much about it until I walked by the pile of mimis pictured above. They had been washed and then....not asked for again.

My heart kind of sunk. I figured that was it for the mimis. It had been at least two weeks without them at bedtime and I think that's the official timespan one needs to break a serious habit. Or something official sounding like that. I kind of mulled around them yesterday, smelled them (so freaking crazy) and then got distracted before I had the chance to tuck them away with Annie's whammys.

But then...last night, right before bed, like a true "One week before Thanksgiving Miracle", John saw the pile of loveys and proclaimed, "Wook! It's all my Mimis!!!!" And I calmly responded, "I wasn't sure you still wanted them any more." He replied, "No Mom, I still wuv dem!"

Oh thank God. (I actually said that out loud)

So the pile of Mimis was carted up to John's bed, where they will snuggle until he is distracted again. Hopefully it's not any time soon.

Until then, I will be researching how to sew a lovey into the lining of my jackets, because while the kids may be able to let them go, I am not sure I can.



Where are they now....

Good gravy....where to start? It's been over a year since I have posted on here. A recent reading of a journal my Mom kept when Parker and Chloe were young reminded me how valuable these memories are, so I am going to try to do better. Even if it is just posting some pics and funny stories here and there (let's be honest, that's all I was really doing before).

Here are the highlights:

We now have a dog, Abby. She's a Great Pyrenees and is wonderful with the kids. Her favorite things include barking, shedding, eating everything off the counters and in any cabinet we happen to leave open (horrible, horrible things happen when a dog eats a tube of zinc oxide, in the event you were wondering). When she's not barking, she's sleeping. But we love her and the kids are no longer afraid of dogs, so mission accomplished. Plus, it's really nice to have a dog in the house again.

John is a almost FOUR. He's such a little buster now and thinks he is "all grown up". He loves all things boy: Power Rangers, super heroes, Paw Patrol, Ninja Turtles, etc. He plays rough and loves hard. He will still give me kisses and gentle pats on the cheek and loves his Dad (his homie) fiercely. He has the most wonderful head of dark brown hair and beautiful hazel eyes like Rick. He still has chubby baby hands (don't tell him I said that) and I hope those stay around a bit longer. He can't pronounce the "L" sound well, which melts my heart. I never tire of hearing, "I wuv you." 

Believe it or not, this is Annie who dressed as the Evil Queen for Halloween. She's in first grade now and is the standard six going on 16, but she still wants the closet light on when she sleeps and lets me lay down with her at bedtime, so we aren't too big just yet. She started Webster Waves swim team this summer and seems to love it. We have continued swimming lessons over the fall/winter and she gets better each session. She has made some great friends at school and we love watching her learn. She's still as funny as ever and clearly has a flair for the dramatic. She's actually attending a play on a school field trip tomorrow so I fully expect her to beg to be in one after seeing the performance. She has lost her two front bottom teeth and expect a few more are coming out here soon.

We also moved into a new house in December 2016. We had officially outgrown the 2 bedroom, 1 bath Dawson Court house. I knew it was time to leave when I found myself not wanting to potty train John because I didn't want another person using the bathroom. We sold the home we brought both our babies home to in about 14 minutes and found the new house just under the wire. It was a whirlwind holiday season last year and I just now feel like we are catching our breath.

So that's it in a nutshell: new home, new dog, 1st grade, preschool, two lost teeth, and everyone is doing well. More to come (hopefully).

10 Years

Today is our 10th Anniversary. We got married on a beach in Alabama and the skies parted after a stormy/dreary morning, just in time for a spectacular evening, perfect for a beach wedding. I walked down the winding beach boardwalk to "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" (Izrael Kamakawiwo'ole's version). I remember little of the ceremony because I think I was trying so hard not to cry. But I have a vivid memory of turning as they announced us husband and wife, and all the ooohs and ahhhss from the crowd. I thought they were oohing for us, but as it turns out, there was an actual rainbow behind us (actually a phenomenon known as a "Sundog", but who's counting?).

I really feel like that moment set the tone for our lives together. There's always a little extra hint of fun/excitement/unexpected when we are together. I knew from the second I received that random email from you almost 13 years ago that you were different and that it was the kind of different I needed. Thank you for being the most wonderful father and friend. I can't imagine my life without you. I love you more than I can say. I can't wait for more adventures with you and our beautiful, crazy, wonderful kids.

All my love,

K

First days

I thought it would be wise to get these pictures up before they have been in school for a month.

Annie has officially started kindergarten. She's thrilled with the prospect of learning to read and do math, but for now, her favorite classes are art and recess (and sometimes music, depending on the day). Considering the fact she now does jumping jacks and burpees before dinner, I would say gym class is influencing her as well. 

These are our "be cool-try not to freak out" faces

Apparently the "cheese face" is genetic.

Annie was the best big sister walking John into his new preschool.

Time progression of the backpack. On the left was her first day at preschool when she was 3. The right is on her way to kindergarten.

John was nervous until he realized he got a second breakfast and it was breakfast PIZZA (which I am not sure how that is different from regular pizza, but I don't ask questions).

We are settling into the new routine nicely. The kids go back and forth between waking up at 5:30 in the morning, or us having to wake them up at 7. I will try to be better about posting as we embark on this new adventure (and since I have been recently told people actually still read this thing...Hi Gaddy!).

The Muffin-2.5 years

Hooo, buddy. You are 2.5 years old now. You are in size 4-5T clothing and are full of energy. We recently weaned you off your binkie (you called it your see-see) and you have been non-stop talking ever since. Though the talking has mainly been about superheroes and play fighting. There are some days I yearn for my snuggly binkie baby who doesn't attack me with swords and sticks.

You are tons of fun to be around and, like your sister, are genuinely funny. You two love each other hard and I hope you will always look out for each other as you do now.

You have more hair than any human I have ever seen. I originally thought you just had a big head, but after reassessing, I think you have a slightly above-average sized head with an impossible amount of hair.

You love tools and to help. Every time you see me or your Dad walking somewhere, you say "Help you?" and are always willing to carry something or operate hand tools in a questionable manner.

You are over your fears of rides and loud noises. Now you seem to prefer loud noises and are often the source of them. You rode rides probably not appropriate for a 2.5 year old, but thanks to your size, you got past the carnies and seemed to enjoy yourself.

You are a picky eater. Somehow even pickier than your sister. We call you "the muffin" or "muffinator" because muffins are your food of choice, though really any carb/bread will do. There is no doubt you are my child.

To me, you are the cutest boy human alive.

Twenty years from now I want to remember how you say "of course" any time someone asks you a yes/no question ("John, can you come here?" Of course!), how you say "oh Right!" any time someone tells you something you feel might be even somewhat obvious, how you LOVE ninja turtles and superheroes even though you have only seen brief snippets on TV, how you wake up and immediately demand breakfast (preferably in muffin form), and how much you love your Dad, but how you are warming up to me every day. I love your sweet face and your "hulk hugs" and am so thankful every day I get to be your mom.

I love you, sweet boy,

Mom 

Busted

She fell out of bed on Saturday night. It was about 11pm and I had just dozed off after downing some Benadryl to help with a nasty bug bite on my leg. I didn't think it was anything major until I saw her blood soaked pillowcase. Stifled screams to Rick to wake up and meet me in the bathroom to assess the damage. There was no discussion, this would require stitches, it was just a matter of where.

Options are limited at 11 on a Saturday night and nothing will rouse you from a Benadryl haze like a blood-soaked 5 year old. So off to the hospital Annie and I raced while John slept through the whole thing and Rick was left behind for CSI cleanup efforts (apparently "how to get blood stains out" was googled before we were even out of the driveway).

We arrived at the hospital and Annie knew stitches were likely on the agenda and was inconsolable, verging on going into shock. Strong drugs were administered to ease the pain, but probably more so to ease her heart, which was really scared. Once those kicked in, she was totally fine. Stitches are a breeze when you can't feel your face. A week without swimming in the hot St. Louis summer is a worse fate than the stitches themselves. But we will make it through.

And now I can cross "stitches" off my list of mandatory parenting experiences. While I knew it would like happen eventually, I really can't believe it was Annie and not John.  

Five

Dear Annie,

You turned five a week ago today (when I first started this post, now it's over a month). It still seems odd to me because I can feel the weight of your baby body in my arms and occasionally get a hint of your baby morning breath as I carry you down the stairs in the morning. But, you are moving further and further away from being my baby. You no longer have baby fat, your legs have muscles and your arms are strong. But you still have a slight lisp with your "s" and "th" sounds, and for this I am eternally thankful, because it makes you still seem just a little bit little.

You are bright and happy and so, so, so incredibly sweet. You are aware of everything and everyone around you. If there is a child that is unattended, you immediately start looking for their mommy. If someone is crying, you try your best to take care of them and right any perceived wrong. You are funny and generous and wise and generally all the things I have always prayed you would be.

You are what teachers would call "active". No sitting still for long periods of time. I still haven't mastered sit down dinners with you, but we do our best. Mostly, you spend dinner tending to John's random needs, which is also very sweet. You are a wonderful big sister. You love to hold your brother's hand and were delighted the first time he said "I yuh you, Ahnnnie" (I love you, Annie). You cry when he is punished in any way (mostly when we have to take away his beloved Ninja Turtles toothbrush/sword) and always do your best to keep him out of trouble. You have even veered off from your interest in princesses to take part in his superhero play from time to time.

You are a true people person. Even strangers will remark on how happy and friendly you are and in an odd development, they will occasionally give you things for free. It has become not unusual for you to get a free dessert at a restaurant or, as was in the case in Miami, for the bartender (yes, we were sitting at a bar, don't judge, but it was a daiquiri bar, so it hardly counts) to hand you an entire bowl of strawberries when he noticed you were eating everyone else's.

You are John still share a room and your beds are about 18 inches apart. And while you talk of wanting your own room, I know you love being close to him. Every night we play "Princesses and Superheroes" where someone has a princess or superhero in their head and the others try to guess which one. You still love to have your back tickled and are an aggressive snuggler. You are afraid there's a monster in your closet and don't like us to close the door to your room when you sleep, but often blame it on John needing the extra light.

Twenty years from now I want to remember how you say "Is I'm" instead of "Am I", how you optimistically ask for candy every morning, how you love to draw and play with play-doh, how there's no hiding anything from you any more and you want us to "tell me the truth, really", how you always refer to God with female pronouns, how you just now started playing with your Barbies and love throwing parties for them and getting your new Barbie house just right, only for John to wreck it. And though I get frustrated when you say you need me for things that I know in my heart you can really do on your own, I need to remember that there will come a time when you don't call out for me any more. Regardless of if it is today or thirty years from now, I will all ways come when you need me.


I love you, sweet girl,
Mom