Seven Quick Takes...

Ha. November 12th. I suppose it's about time I got back down to business. To be honest, the thought of updating the blog has been a constant in my mind, but with each day that has passed it seemed like more and more of a challenge. The more thoughts of "oooh, I should write about this," the more daunting of a task it became. So, following the lead of some others I've been enjoying...

1.) I decided to take some time off from the blog so that I could devote my much needed minutes to finishing Jacob's stocking. In all, it took 36+ hours. Good thing I started as early as I did. And boy did it come out cute, if I do say so myself. It was a really fun project, and I'm so glad to have this Christmas keepsake for my boys to use every year and to eventually take into their own homes with their own families. My mom made our stockings when we were babies, and I've always loved how creative and beautiful they were. Little did I know how HUGE of a project it was! To be honest, I'm very proud of the finished product and it feels so good to be able to display it in our home - especially during those years, such as this one, that will be a bit more modest and understated in terms of Christmas decorating.

2.) My Grandma is beginning to lose track of who I am. Not really, but a little. The thoughts I'd like to share on this issue range for heart-wrenching to knee-slapping, but the gist of it is that the past few months have been a roller-coaster ride between hospitals and nursing homes, laughter and tears, navigating social services, meeting new doctors, and accepting the fact that Being There means being loved and appreciated one day, despised and yelled at the next. Starting with her fall in mid-august, to the first senior home, through standing by her bed in the ER for HOURS ON END during her stroke, to the second fall and resulting hospital stay due to her broken neck AND back, back to the senior home, back to the hospital (because she was being so mean to everyone) and now to a new senior home - these months have been only manageable because of the strength and encouragement of my beloved husband who has gone with me on nearly every single visit, and has (somehow) been able to talk some sense into Grandma when necessary. He has stood by me and held me up through her anger and my tears. The Grandma who is ill is not the one who I've been close with all these years - she is the one with whom I have had many challenging moments. While there's a much bigger blog post brewing about this, what I can say now is that I have truly learned what it means to be family through all of this. I have learned what it means to love - not just to love her, but to love my dad and serve him through the care that I can extend to her. It's not even an issue of what it will be like to look back - I can say now, as we're in it, with certainty that I can see the grace in these moments and the blessing of what this time means for all of us. Relationships are being mended. Hearts are healing. And finally, after 30 years of being her granddaughter, I am getting to know my grandmother.

3.) Speaking of 30 years, another development since my last post? I TURNED THIRTY. And it was AWESOME! Not because I had this huge party with all of my family and friends. Not because I received awesome and expensive and meaningful gifts...but because, in what has been an incredibly challenging year, I was loved on my birthday. Truly loved. That probably comes off sounding really cheesy, but it's true. There's no other way to explain the joy that I felt through the blessings I received this year - starting with my awesome visit with my girlfriends in the spring, to a surprise visit from my buddy on my birthday weekend. And, lest I forget, my mom's surprise gift of the new stroller I had been eyeing for the boys. The stroller that I'd been saving and saving for, but whose fund kept ending up getting swallowed into the "needs" part of the budget because it really did fall under the "want" category. The gifts that I received for my birthday were all things that I truly needed at each moment that they were received - down to the gift certificate to a restaurant in the city from my brother and sister-in-law, on the very day that I sat venting to my husband about how "when we get back on track, all I want to do is go out to dinner. Just once. Just to feel 'normal' again." Even remembering it now makes my eyes fill up. I will always remember the year I turned 30 as the year I not only truly learned to love, but also truly learned how to receive it.

4.) Yesterday, Christopher ran into a pole. Yup, he got off the slide and took off full speed ahead, looking down, until that mean old pole got in his way. The way the metal made that "BONG" sound would make anyone think we were headed to the ER, but I'm telling you, that kid has the hardest head you've ever seen. He's a tough kid with a tough head - and lately, a pretty rock-star vocabulary. My favorite of his many words, these days, is "Hoop." (For the uninitiated, "Help.") "Mommy, Hoop." It's so cute. Everything he says, of course, is at a decibel level that can't be good for anyone's hearing - volume control is not something we're interested in around here. So, it's really, "HOOP!" or "BYE-BYEEE MOMMY! BYE!!!" or "NIGHT NIGHT YAYAAA!" to the sleeping baby in the next room. Each new word makes my pride swell and, of course (you know me...) my eyes well up.

5.) Thankfully, his brother is so chill that the volume doesn't bother him much. But the teeth are making that kid crazy....and having the same effect on his mommy. I don't remember Christopher having NEARLY this much trouble with his teeth. I don't remember because HE DIDN'T. One night last week, Jacob SCREAMED. ALL. NIGHT. LONG. Really. I'm not exaggerating. For a little boy who hardly ever cries, this was bordering on the ridiculous. Tylenol didn't touch it. Watching mommy cry didn't touch it. Watching Daddy sleep didn't even touch it. Just kidding. Well, only a little. In the last couple of days, though, Jakie has really taken to the Two Nap Schedule, and as a result, has been sleeping better at night. THANK GOD FOR SLEEP BREEDS SLEEP.

6.) On an unrelated note, Twitter is my new favorite website. This surprises me because, seriously? WHO CARES WHAT I'M DOING EVERY SECOND OF THE DAY? But, honestly, it's FABULOUS. And it's also partially to blame for the fact that I have not updated my blog - everything that has seemed like too big of a post to take the time to write out has been whittled down to 140 characters or less. If you don't know Twitter, you should get acquainted. After all, don't YOU want to know what I was thinking at 3:02pm yesterday? Of COURSE you do!

7.) So, for my New Year's Resolution, I'll really make a point to get back to the blog and to be consistent. It will be taking second place, though, to our family resolution which is....LEARNING TO ROSARY IN LATIN. Really. I know. We should have it down by 2010.

Ave Maria, gratia plena, dominus tecum. Benedicta tu....

Sorry. I just don't care to figure out whether or not I used that big word correctly at this point in the evening.

First...some photos from Christopher's Birthday.

(They're supposed to come at the end but I'm too tired and too hot from holding a feverish toddler to try to figure it out.)

Christopher's b-day table cloth...year two.

Let them eat cake.

and....last but not least....

Who needs to hire a clown to creep out their kids when there are dead rodents to be seen?

Now, Down To Business...

Only one day into Fall and we seem to be ushering in the season with what promises to be a family-wide cold. Not good. It never fails that when someone around here starts up with the sniffles, I immediately try to figure out where in the world they came from. This time, there is little doubt that it was a gift given to us by our friends to whom we were delivering a birthday present on Monday afternoon. Both mommy and daughter were quite sniffly and red in the eyes, but honestly? this is nothing new for their family. Especially for the littlest: she of the nose that runs all over town. I swear that we were in their house for all of 15 minutes, and as a result, there is a little boy in the next room with a pasty white face, rose-red lips, and eyes, ears, a nose and a mouth that are all excreting various fluids. Joy. I'm not all that into fluids.

He's all snuggled up in his bed right now, blankie in one hand, sippy of water in the other. But he's not sleeping soundly. Every few minutes I hear a moan or a sniffle. A cough here and there. It really is the saddest thing when your little one is sick. Such a pathetic sight, isn't it? There's something so innocent...and so vulnerable....about a little tiny person sitting in his rocking chair with snot running down his face. And yet, today? Today we spent the majority of our time outside, running around, blowing bubbles, DUMPING THE ENTIRE BOTTLE OF BUBBLE SOLUTION INTO THE DRIVEWAY, jumping, giggling, playing with blocks, making Lego towers, and playing in the dirt. I'm fascinated by the dichotomy - children have no way of hiding that they are sick. It's obvious to the whole world. And yet they seem totally oblivious of the fact that they are supposed to "feel" sick. And adults? Honestly - you know what it's like. When we get sick, we're pumping our bodies full of this decongestant and that cough drop while laying in our beds WAITING TO DIE.

Yet another lesson to be learned from our children.

So anyway, I left sick child number one in his bed...only after smattering him with copious amounts of Vicks Baby Rub. (Side Note: this is one of my favorite things about winter. My child is ADDICTED to the Vicks. You want him to lie down for a diaper change? Offer him Vicks! Want him to stop cleaning out the window sills with your tooth brush? Pull out the Vicks! Hoping that he'll actually agree to wearing pajamas to bed? Vicks! All of that PLUS the fact that it makes him giggle like mad when you rub it on...that's the best part).

From there, I moved over to my room to settle baby #2 down to sleep. As I was sitting here, rocking my little one and observing how flushed his cheeks are and how much warmer his body is than usual, I began to get nervous. Two sick children (one of whom is only 4 months old) + mommy with a sore throat + daddy who, though he claims to have no symptoms yet, tends to pick up EVERYTHING = a scary prospect. And the realization that, especially when the rest of the family is sick, there is NO SUCH THING AS A SICK MOMMY...well, I began to get a little nervous. And, admittedly, a little ahead of myself.

That's when I happened upon tonight's episode of Jon & Kate Plus 8. In tonight's presentation, the Family Who Always Makes Me Feel Like A Wimp...um, I mean, "Better" was dealing with 8 kids who all had the flu. THE THROW UP FLU. I'll quit whining now.

***UPDATE: Christopher and Tim have now set up camp downstairs on the floor. Blankets, pillows, sippy, Blankie, Haha (curious George. Because monkeys say "who who haha"), a box of tissues, a wet wash cloth, and Caillou looped on repeat playing on the TV. The fever is climbing. And the boy is pulling on his ears. It promises to be a loooong night.***

Talk To Me

Stacy and Clinton are right. Quality fabric + quality workmanship = higher price, but also = better fit. That being said, I FOUND A SWIMMING SUIT. Praise the Living God. I'm so happy. Sure it's not fabulous (It's hot pink. Not my first choice.), but I do feel comfortable and confident in it. Thus, tomorrow's trip to the swimming pool has already gotten off to a good start. And, can I just say, that I LOVE this whole "swim mini" concept. What in the world took so long to come up with this? This is not your average swimming-suit-with-a-skirt of the days of old. No no no, my friends. This one is actually cute. It's actually flattering. Land's End is my new best friend. And Sears is my newer best friend for selling Lands End stuff without my having to order it online.

Sears, however, is not my new best friend for their photo studio. I'm still mourning the loss of our local Picture People. Oh, Picture People, how I miss thee. How I miss your perky teen-age employees with their funny sounds and their overbearing enthusiasm for bringing staged smiles to the faces of my children. Oh how I miss being able to use your "free 8x10" coupon that you're still sending me (which, seriously? MUST you pour salt in my already open wound?). Oh how I miss the agony of trying to figure out just which photo to actually BUY, rather than the searching and searching to find a photo of high enough quality to merit actually bringing home.

Sigh.

And yet, I signed up for the year-long Sears Photo membership anyway. Beggars can't be choosers.

All of that being said, NONE of the above was in my plan when I sat down at the computer tonight. Tonight's topic is even better than a swimming suit that fits. Even better than the kids at Picture People. EVEN BETTER than the brownies that I made tonight that totally flopped, BUT in their flop-ness actually turned into one of those "molten chocolate" cakes that you have to order at the beginning of your meal at a fancy restaurant because it takes so long to cook and is so delicious because of the gooey chocolate that pours out once you put your fork into it. (Honestly - if a recipe is going to flop, then this is the way to do it. Wouldn't you agree?)

Tonight is all about my son TALKING. Using words. REAL WORDS.

Now, I freely admit that this is something that we've been anxious about. As we find ourselves racing towards "two" at breakneck speed, we also find ourselves counting down the days until The Deadline. The time when Christopher should have a good number of words that he uses with frequency. Words that he uses with meaning. And (gasp!) word combinations that express intent.

Don't get too excited. We're not reciting Shakespeare here. But today we did have a breakthrough. Over the past week, I have been teaching Christopher to sing "Do Re Mi" and boy is it cute. I'll say, "do do do." And he'll say "do do do." Then we'll do the same with Re and Mi. But today. TODAY! After our normal "repeat after me" session in the car, I heard a little voice from the back seat say, "do re mi...."

AAAHHHHHAAAHAAAA! IT WAS AWESOME.

And then, tonight, as he was jumping off the couch and bouncing on his pillows on the floor, all of a sudden I hear, "OW." Ow. Ow. Owwww.

Perhaps you find this to be anticlimactic, but Tim and I were thrilled. Thrilled, because WE NEVER TAUGHT HIM "OW." Which means he's picked it up from someone else - we're guessing his big cousin who came over to play on Tuesday. HE PICKED IT UP. He picked it up without my saying, "Christopher, say ow. Ow. Say Ow. Christopher say it. (hopeful waiting) Okay, Mommy say it: ow. Now Christopher say it. Ow. Owwwww. Christopher say it."

Yes, this is the way we've been living our lives. It's a wonder he hasn't packed his bag and moved out by now, what with all the pressure.

Thus, we've experienced a joyful day around here. Not because of the impressiveness of the word, but because it feels like we're moving forward. He is getting it. The synapses are firing. So it really will be only a matter of time before the "MOM!!!!!" that I hear from the backseat when we pass a bus or a fire truck on the road, followed by enthusiastic pointing and waving of arms actually becomes "WOW MOM LOOK AT THAT TRUCK!"

And that will be SO. AWESOME.

Brotherly Love

Because he cares about personal and oral hygiene....and because he feels it necessary to pass these traits on to his little brother.....

I turned around this morning to find Christopher sitting next to Jacob. BRUSHING HIS TEETH.

You can imagine Jacob's delight.

Angel, Unaware.

I think it's time that someone got some action figures.

T-3 Weeks

So. Three weeks from tomorrow, baby number two will be entering the scene. Baby BOY number two. Jacob. And about four days later there will be another man living in my house. A tiny one, but another man just the same.

I'm so curious to meet this little person. This little personality. In what ways will he be like his brother? In what ways will they differ? I remember writing in Christopher's journal when I first found out that I was pregnant again, and just praising God for the fact that our prayers had been answered. With the first pregnancy, my prayers had been for me. I wanted a baby. I wanted to be a mommy. I wanted to get our life started. And then, not long after he was born, when we started talking about another baby....well, the prayer was different. It was still self-motivated prayer. Still something I wanted (come on, when are our prayers of petition NOT motivated out of some level of selfish desire?) but the object of my desire was different. I wanted another baby for Christopher. I wanted a playmate for him. A sibling for him. A companion who would walk with him through the whole of his life. And I wrote that in his journal. That now, even though this baby was still a long 9 months off, he was now connected to this person in a way he'll be connected to no other. They will be siblings. And, at least until they are grown and married (and hopefully still then) that bond will be not only strong and everlasting, but the strongest bond he will ever have.

And then we found out we were having a boy. Even better than I had imagined! BROTHERS! Just what I wanted....for him. For them.

God is so good. You know, I look at my Christopher and in my prayers for him try to offer him completely to our Lord's will and service. It is not my job or even my privilege to choose for him the path that his life will take. But it IS my job to prepare him for the path that God has for him and to pray that he will always be open and willing to walking down that path. When I look at his handsome little face, it is easy to let my mind wander to the future. In my wanderings I can see him falling in love, getting married, and experiencing all of this for himself with his own family. He will make a wonderful husband - already demonstrating the sensitivity and tenderness that will be so important in that relationship. But I can also see an alternate path for him. One that also requires sensitivity and tenderness. One that requires a mind and heart for all things spiritual and holy. One that he demonstrates in practice as he bows his head with his hands in prayer at Mass on Sundays, or makes the Sign of the Cross across his chest with vigor while we're saying grace. Just two weeks ago, while Tim and I were attending daily Mass, Christopher held a plastic cup in his left hand, a plastic screwdriver in his right, and walked up and down the main aisle of the last three-or-so pews and pretended to sprinkle Holy Water on all of the people....just as we've been witnessing the Priest do on Sundays throughout the Easter Season.

He was able to point out the Pope to me in a magazine without my ever having pointed him out before.

Is there something going on here? Some kind of spiritual connection that he already has with our Lord? Some kind of ingrained faith and love for our Faith that has been gifted to him from above? I know that sounds lofty - but is it really that out of reach? People say that children are more deeply connected to the spiritual than adults. Maybe they're right?

My point is, that while I'm sitting here in a room that is a COMPLETE disaster area on its way to become another nursery....while I'm bogged down in all the details of welcoming the physical presence of another human being into my home....what I'm most excited about, and most heavily burdened with, is the welcoming of another human person into my life. Another soul to shepherd and guide. To raise and offer to God to do with what He wills.

What a tremendous responsibility. What a humbling task. What an incredible privilege.