Zeke turns 3

Ezekiel Gambit is turning 3, and it's been a tremendously fun year with this boy.  He changed, and grew in so many ways this year...but the most significant change this year... the HAIR. 

Early in this year we took away his binky... by 'we' I really mean Tyler...because I was afraid it would disrupt my perfect sleeper.   It did, my boy who would grab his blanket and binky and run for nap started fighting sleep the second we took it away.  He still fights it, but he's improving. 

 Zeke's long floppy hair seemed to be getting a little bit poofy, and we decided to cut it short for the hot summer months.  I was quite amazed how much I missed his long floppy hair, he looked so big to me, but I knew his hair would probably grow back quickly.    Also, this summer we went to Colorado and letting my "Wild Thing" toddler loose on the mountains was a really amazing thing.

He is a joy and his laughter is contagious.  I can't think of a day that goes by that he doesn't make us laugh out loud.   He enjoys the simple things in life, actually he enjoys almost everything in life.  

He has a love for all living things.  I love seeing his tender heart.  He just cares, and it's adorable.

He is extremely expressive, he has about a hundred thousand facial expressions and voices.  He likes singing loudly to Elmo or the tune of The Nutcracker.  He likes wearing his Superman cape with a Batman mask and...Vi's tutu.   He actually really loves tutus.   While I know Tyler doesn't love it, we love watching him mimic his big sister, because of course, he loves her probably most of all.

I can't really turn my back on him and expect to find him doing anything but being...adventurous.  We really try to encourage his adventurous side, so I guess we shouldn't expect any less...but sometimes it's hard to keep up with.  Most of the time when I'm not looking, I find him being extremely disgusting...usually something to do with his dirty diaper... but let's not go there, trying to focus on all these wonderful things about my son...not the disgusting.

I looked away and he started driving away in the golf cart at my grandparents farm!

I'm sitting here wrapping up this blog while Zeke is sitting on the edge of the couch pretending to punch himself and falling onto the cushions... a few minutes ago he was dancing quietly in a tutu to Beethoven.  That image sums up Zeke pretty well right now.

Vi turns 5

It just kind of crept up this year... I can't believe it's already time for Vi's annual blog.

She came up to me this week and said, "Mom, if I could stay 4 I would...I want to, it's just that I'm going to keep growing."  I asked her why she wanted to stay 4 (besides the fact that I want her to stay my little girl) and she replied, "well, being a grown up is a LOT of work, and I like being a kid".  

Maybe she's realizing this is her last year in preschool.  Maybe I'm realizing it and can't believe it.

She continues to grow and amuse us and of course, become more and more independent.

There were new parenting obstacles;  helping a 4 year old process grief was painful.  It was the first time we saw our daughter experience true heartbreak, and it broke our hearts as well.

Then there were the same old parenting obstacles, this kid can still whine and carry on with dramatics in an almost impressive way.   Except we're not impressed.   I guess I gotta give her credit for her fierce stubbornness right?

I have been so fortunate to be able to take her to work with me and watch her grow with others.  The thing I take the most joy in watching is her capability to be friends with ANYONE.  She has one little friend who she has been friends with since they started as 2 year olds together, who she loves dearly, yet she is frequently playing with children in all the other classes as well...if you're willing to play, you've got a friend in Vi.  

She loves Charlotte.  She calls her onto her bed, outside to play, she tries playing hide and seek with her.   Seeing a kid play with their dog is always endearing.

It's amazing to see how she stays true to who she has always been, but grows in it.  She continues to be sensitive and tender hearted, yet adventurous and daring.  She loves people, but also loves time to herself to read and relax.  She laughs, delights and admires easily and still outwits me when I'm not paying attention.

Another year slipping by so quickly, filled with tears, joy, laughter and adventures.  You don't have to remind us to appreciate it because it goes quickly...we are quite aware.

On Not Giving In to "Baby Fever"

I have a lot of pregnant friends right now... and quite a few of those pregnant friends are going from 2 to 3 kids.  I am SO excited for them, I look forward to cuddling their tiny humans in my arms.  Their families are lovely, and I am excited to be their friend who gets to be there to support them and love them during this beautiful time in their lives.

It's just not for me, I am done.

We always talked about having three or four kids, when we dreamed of our future family we never imagined two kids.  Two seemed too little of a family, no tie breaker, I liked the idea of large family get together's with lots of love and fun.  That was before I was pregnant.  I know nine months is not that long in the scale of a life time...but it's still a long freaking time.  I'm a terrible pregnant person, I hated it, it wasn't a magical, glowing time for me.  I was mean, hormonal, uncomfortable, sleep deprived... and then child birth.  Oh dear god, childbirth.   Ladies, get an epidural.   I did the natural child birth thing, I wouldn't have done it any other way, I'd do it again... but no, I wouldn't, because I don't want to ever do it again, child birth is reason enough to not have another child.  Immediately after Z was born I turned to my husband and said, "I am NEVER doing that again".  I guess some people forget the pain, the whole "birth is beautiful" mantra...  it is beautiful, but only because new life is beautiful, because in all actuality birth is ugly, gross and extremely painful.  Then there's the whole postpartum depression thing that I guess some women don't get at all, but personally, I'd rather not sit crying in front of the window all day again for no particular reason.
Oy vey I digressed... those are factors into our decision to be done having children, but not the entire picture.  

*Car seats:  running ANYWHERE with 2 kids in car seats is a pain.  I mean, I 'could' wait until V outgrew hers to have another kid, but these days kids are in some kind of car seat until they drive.  So no thanks.
* Sleep:  I really like it, a lot.   The thought of living in a state of perpetual sleep deprivation again doesn't appeal to me.
*Diapers:  Just because my child is a wonderful gift from God, doesn't make it's crap any less disgusting.  We are about to potty train Z and the end of diapers is within our grasps, and it looks oh so beautiful.
*I don't want to lose any more of my brain.  I remember calling my mom and telling her I kept losing more of my brain with each child, and she laughingly told me it never comes back.  So far she's right, and I can't afford to lose any more.

*I can't afford another car.
*Two against two: Tyler and I can divide and conquer our kids, no matter the situation.  I feel empowered, and I'm afraid when we get outnumbered the kids will smell our fear and overtake us.
*Babysitters:  People OFFER to babysit, usually I don't need one because our family also offers to babysit, but I've heard moms with 4-5 kids not only find it difficult to find a babysitter, then they have to pay out the wazoo for them to watch their little army.
*My wild thing toddler is excellent birth control.    I enjoy him, don't get me wrong, I even ENJOY his...wildness, it's mostly entertaining...but extremely exhausting.  I CAN'T LOOK AWAY.  How would I possibly take care of a baby when Wild Thing would be in the next room ripping up books?  Putting his dirty diaper in random places?  Rubbing Vaseline all over the place?  (All experienced in one week.)

So there we go folks, keep having babies for me to love, snuggle, and dote on, because this mommy is done but will inevitably miss having baby snuggles...just not my own...actual baby.

Type B in a Type A World

I keep seeing all sorts of memes, articles and blogs about how selfish people are who are late.  As someone who used to typically runs late places, I read these with a sense of guilt.   I would read it as: when I'm late people assume I'm rude and selfish, that I care more about myself than others, that I'm just overall inconsiderate.

Now, to be clear, there is this culture where people show up late places on purpose because they truly do not care.  I'd even say that it happens frequently, and that there are some self absorbed people who live a self absorbed life.

I do not consider myself one of those people... usually.  (Some days...what can I say?)

One thing that was abundantly clear, the people I know that have this viewpoint are clear cut Type A personality types.   The person who has an urgency with time, that is a planner, who can plan precisely for their day, and actually stick to their plan. 

I am definitely not one of these people.

So I did some reading around and found this interesting article: here
http://www.wsj.com/articles/we-know-why-youre-always-late-1422900180

If you don't want to read the article, one of the most interesting things I got from it is this: "Across three previous studies, Type A individuals estimated that a minute passed in 58 seconds, compared with 77 seconds for Type B individuals. “So if you have an 18-second gap…that difference can add up over time,” Dr. Conte said."

In other words, the friend of yours who is always late may experience time differently than you do.

I am this friend.  However, I'm not the friend who thinks it's "ok" to just be late.  I have to tell you, when I walk in five minutes late, what you didn't see was my panicked running around the house for 30 minutes looking for things, forgetting things, not realizing that brushing my kids hair was going to take 10 minutes instead of 5, or last minute pulling back into the driveway because I forgot to let the dogs back in.   It's usually chaos.  The sad part, or good part, is that I'm far better than I used to be.

I usually plan out everything I can think of the night before work.  I lay out clothes, I pack lunches, I get up earlier...yet still...somehow....it's a HUGE feat for me to get out the door on time...which most days I miraculously accomplish.  It is a huge source of stress.

Thank goodness my director saw past my weakness when I showed up 15 minutes late to an interview.  I forgot what time I was supposed to be there...made a guess, and was wrong.  I have worked at that same place for about 7 years.  Because she chose to show grace in my moment of weakness, I was able to grow and mature in my weakness, all while demonstrating my strengths as her employee. 

I guess my point is this: when someone is late to something, don't just assume they're rude and selfish.  Assume they might have a different personality than you, that they have different strengths than you do, and their weakness is...kind of obvious.

Ezekiel is 2

My hulk baby is now more of a hulk toddler.

This year he has grown so much!  I think from 1-2 is when I notice the most change, it's when I realize I am losing my baby, and gaining a toddler.

He started walking, and some talking, although not enough to impress the doctors.  At his 18 month appointment they asked if he said at least 20 words, nope.   15 words?  nope.  10 words?  Does singing 'Let it Go' count as 3 words?  No?  Then nope.   I haven't been concerned by his lack of talking as I hear it's common with boys, and I know it's inevitable...he's really starting to jabber and repeat words now anyway.

He is daring.

Daring, as in I'm realizing I'm raising a boy kind of daring. As much as I want to be that laid-back mom that lets her child explore, and fall, and get back up without rushing to his aide every time... my heart lurches every time I see him fall and get yet another bruise, or goose egg, or scrape or hole in his lip! Which, because he is daring, seems to be quite often.

He is tough.   When he does get hurt, he does this cry like he's hurt, but he's not that committed to crying about it.   There's been a couple times I've missed the extent of his injury because he wanted to keep playing so I let him, only later to see the giant lump on him.

Right after he got back from the urgent care for biting a hole through his lip.

 
He cracks me up.  He has these expressions that if he were any other kid, he'd probably get in trouble, and I hate to admit that he sometimes gets off a little easy because his expressions kill me.  I promise he is well disciplined when needed, but he definitely misses out a couple lectures when it's too hard for me to scold him because I'm trying too hard not to laugh.

Yet, he's so gentle.  He's my child that all along would snuggle with me, and his squishy snuggles are amazing.  He wakes up slow like his dad and me, and doesn't seem to enjoy it at all, just looks for a lap to snuggle in.  It's one of my favorite times with him, and often I am starting my day late due to an extra minute of this time with him.

 He's a bit rascally, and truth be told, I've always loved rascally little boys.  They're entertaining, charming, keep you on your toes, and are definitely not boring!

Having this boy in my life has been a complete joy.  He's for the most part laid back and easy-going (unless he's in the nursery, but he's getting better at that).  Which is something I can learn more from.  He's joyful, and compassionate, and a huge blessing to our family.  I think we'll keep him around :)