Halloween

3...2...1...

Cinderelly

Bode and Gianna had their very first experience trick-or-treating last night.

The babies were quiet with anticipation as we drove to a nearby neighborhood.  On the drive over, I explained to them how houses are either lit up for Halloween, or they are dark, depending on whether the people in the house wish to give out candy.  It was pouring down rain and windy.  We had a full day of school, doctor appointments, and other errands. We were driving home from the pediatrician at 5:30, and all I wanted to do was put everyone to bed.  Instead, we raced home, ate a quick bite and then headed out again (because I had promised Bode and Gianna we would trick-or-treat!).

At just 6 PM, it was so dark and heavy rain splashed down on our windshield, making it so hard for me to see.  I parked at the first decorated, fully lit house we saw.  At first, I thought I'd keep Nico in the car and just go to the one house.  But as I was about to walk up to the house, I saw other houses were lit up close by.  So I got the stroller out, and put Nico in.  I had to call Gianna back, because she was already making the walk up to the house.  A group of teenage (?) boys, all in black and with no discernible costume among them, was crowding the porch.  "Let's let them go first," I cautioned. Within seconds, the boys were trotting off, but then they slowed to a stop in front of Bode.

"Whoah. That is so cool."

"Do you see his costume? He's an astronaut!"

"Check out his helmet!"

"You've got the coolest costume ever!"

These were genuine compliments. "Thank you," came Bode's muffled reply. (He insisted on keeping the visor down!)

Gianna then took off boldly, plastic pumpkin out in front of her, in search of the candy. I watched as she put her hand up to steady her crown as she stepped up to the porch.  Only then did she turn back to see if we were behind her.

Two girls answered the door and deposited a handful of candy in each pumpkin.  Two heads bent down to look inside their pumpkins and each baby said, "Thank you!" and then slowly shuffled down the path, eyeing their candy the whole time.

The next house had a single porch light, and not a single Halloween decoration on display.  Gianna moved forward, but Bode hung back.

"Wait!" he wailed "There's no light on. There's nobody there!"

I gazed at the yellow porch light and then turned to Bode. "Yes, the light is on. Let's just go see."

And of course, someone answered the door and gave the children candy.

Nico was so quiet as we strolled (so slowly...) through the rain.  Gianna was looking a bit tired, if not bedraggled, by her rainy pilgrimage for candy. At one point, she stepped on the train of her dress and there was an audible rip.  There was a pause, and then she said, "That's okay." The rain was coming down sideways, so my umbrella was not much use to Nico, or any of us. I felt like such a jerk, dragging my baby through the rain-filled street.  I told myself that we would visit 4 houses total, and no more.

I think that the babies would have easily continued trick-or-treating, if I had not suggested that we go home and watch the traditional Charlie Brown cartoon.

Post-trick-or-treat

We got home, changed immediately into warm jammies and watched a show.  They got 1 piece of candy to eat, after I had searched the contents of their pumpkins. Curious to know what each child picked? Gianna picked peanut M&Ms. Bode picked a Twix.  The rest of the candy (8 pieces total, each) was put back into their pumpkins and up on the counter. 

It was a successful, soaking wet, trick or treating adventure.  They both woke up this morning and put on their costumes. Today, I'm going to propose that they leave their candy out for the Switch Witch. I hope that it works...I'm craving chocolate!

This month has been the worst.  It has been full of ups, downs, worry, heartache and hurts. I usually love October and Halloween, but this year, I'm ready to say goodbye.

Happy November...let's hope that it's better this month.

xo

Back to school

Guess who had his first day of school today.

No, not Japan. (silly)

It was Bode William's return to school today. It went very well.  He ran right into his classroom and never even looked back (at me).  He didn't even say hello to his teacher, Miss Amy (who was his teacher last year).  So without further ado, I just left.  It was kind of funny to be one of the "old-timers" and watch the "newbies" (the new parents) stand around, looking worriedly at their toddler to see if it was "okay" to leave them alone in the classroom. What's the big deal?  (Just kidding!)

At pick-up, it was a different scene.  The parents were happy to walk up and see their children playing in the playground. Their faces relieved of the tension held early this morning, they stood around smiling and watching their new preschoolers.  But I had some tension. I had a really hard time getting Bode to leave!  He ignored me  and would not stop playing, even when I told him that he would be back.

Miss Amy (below, in the green dress) had to help me.  After several minutes of me pleading with him to come with me, she tried talking to him.  When he ignored her, she said, "Come on, Bode, Mommy is ready...help Mommy."  And she gently picked up Bode and carried him to my car. I really like Miss Amy. More importantly, Bode likes Miss Amy a lot.

We got into the car and Bode said, "Mom (he has been calling me "Mom" for a week now), can we go to Starbucks for a treat?"  (Dude, you read my mind!)  So off we went to Starbucks for a mini celebration.  (I was going to take him to the ice cream place for a special back-to-school treat, but since he specifically requested "Starbucks"......)

He's getting so big. I can't believe that he's going to be 4 in a couple of weeks!

We ended the day in new (Fall) pjs,  reading stories before bedtime.  I really cherish my bedtime routine with my babies.  I don't want that to ever end.

Tomorrow is suture removal!  Unfortunately, Bode will miss school.  Keep your fingers crossed that the procedure is anxiety-free and painless for Bode. Whether it is good or bad, I see another treat in our future. ;)

xo

First: e.r. visit and stitches

Monday night, I was woken up by RWF.  I was in a deep sleep and when I heard him say, "Heather," I bolted up in bed.  He calmly told me that Bode had fallen out of bed and needed stitches.  He said, "I have to take him to the e.r."

My breath became shallow and my face started cracking, preparing to cry.  My baby!  "Where is he?" I asked.

"Calm down. He's fine. He's in the kitchen."  RWF pulled on some jeans and continued to tell me what he thought had happened.

But I ran out to the kitchen and Bode wasn't there. I found him walking around the living room, looking dazed.  In addition to looking dazed, his face looked crooked.

I knelt down in front of him and hugged him. He collapsed into my embrace.  I pulled away from him to study his face.  He didn't say anything, he just looked at me while I studied his face. Above his eye, a gaping, diamond shaped wound.  I immediately felt sick to my stomach. At the same time, I couldn't help but peer into the wound and examine the perfect symmetry.

RWF walked out, phone and wallet in hand, ready to go.  I escorted Bode out to the garage, and put his Crocs on his feet.  I carried Bode to the car and buckled him into his car seat. "Where are we going?" he asked, confused. I couldn't answer.  I kissed him good-bye, and said a prayer that the e.r. visit would not be as horrible as I imagined.

"Oh," RWF whispered, "It looks pretty bad up there (in Bode's bedroom) but don't let it freak you out."

As soon as they pulled onto the street, I went upstairs.  I stripped the bloody sheets, pillows and mattress pad from his bed.  I walked downstairs and put them in the wash. I went back upstairs and cleaned and straightened Bode's room, because I didn't know what else to do. Afterwards, I sat and thought about Bode.  RWF called me a few times, letting me know that they were (still) waiting and Bode was acting fine. I asked him to take Bode to Dunkin' Donuts afterwards, because Bode would deserve a special treat (after what he was about to go through).  I sat, with the t.v. on but not watching. I was thinking about Bode. I felt sick to my stomach. I felt so guilty that this had happened to him.

They left around 11 p.m., and came home at 3:30 a.m.

As soon as the headlights hit our windows, I ran out to the car. I opened the doors to get to my boy.  I was surprised to see him still in a hospital gown and scrubs.  He had stitches.  Small consolation, other than just seeing him myself, was that he was clutching a chocolate-glazed donut in his little hands and munching on it.

RWF told me that the procedure was really hard, but the pediatrician told him that Bode was doing great.  (Later, RWF would confess to me that it was really hard on him, too, because Bode was screaming, "Help me, Daddy! Help me!" while they were doing the stitches. This only confirmed what my mind had played in my head while they were away, that my boy  and husband had endured an Oscar-worthy performance, a la "Kramer vs. Kramer."). And, I have to selfishly add right here, I am so thankful that RWF was here.  He could have easily been out of town (planned but canceled). I can't imagine what I would have done, or how I would have handled this by myself.

RWF showed me all the gifts that Bode scored, a brand-new teddy bear (that Bode has been strangely attached to at night), a real stethoscope, and a face mask (ha).  Of course, I didn't give a hoot about this stuff, and only wanted it burned, because it only serves as a reminder of a horrible incident.  But I also could not help but snatch RWF's iPhone and take this snap, either:

Bode didn't have the best night of sleep, as he was pretty amped by the experience (he  asked me to lie in bed next to him (unusual for him), and he kept asking me to "wipe it (the wound) away, Mommy").  He is doing better now.  I am still suffering from PTSD.  I can't believe that I slept through a big fall. I can't believe that I didn't hear Bode crying. I can't believe that I was sleeping peacefully in my bed while my sweet boy was crying and bleeding above me. I feel so guilty. And every time I close my eyes, I see the diamond-shaped wound gaping open before me. Before I fall asleep,  I worry about another fall.   It's hard to go to sleep at night, when every creak above me is a potential disaster. Is one of my children bleeding to death above, while I sleep blissfully unaware?

Thanks to everyone for your encouraging words. I do realize that this will probably be the first of many e.r. visits and stitches (well, hopefully not too many).  It's just hard for me, because it is Bode's first, and he wasn't being rambunctious. He was simply sleeping like the angel that he is.

And, it is not over.  Bode has an appointment with a plastic surgeon on Thursday. I'm sure that he'll be thrilled to have another stranger peering at his wound.  And then a few days after that, suture removal.  Wish us luck! (though I guess the worse is over) (I hope)

Happy Wednesday.

xo

36 weeks and thoughts on siblings

Anxiety over a new baby? Gianna at breakfast this morning.

I am 36 weeks.  I am feeling a little nervous, a little ready, and a whole lot tired!  I think I have done everything I can to "prepare" - as much as one can "prepare" when a family of 5 (P is definitely a beloved family member) is about to welcome another baby into the mix.  

This past week was unsettling, in that so many people would stop me and ask, with slight alarm in their voices, "When are you due?" At first, I thought it was my imagination. But then, it kept happening while my sisters were here, too, and they confirmed that people were definitely asking with some  concern in their voices.

When I was pregnant with Gianna, I was so worried about Bode. I felt sick and emotional that I was  ruining his little life. I felt like I had betrayed him. I would cry at night after I put him to bed. The day before Gianna was born, I took Bode to the park.  I sat with him, and watched him play, and all the while I kept thinking about how this was the last day that his life would be this way. The next day, his life would never be the same.  It sounds pretty dramatic, but I was very, very emotional about what I was about to "do" to Bode. And that is how it felt to me: I was doing something to him.  I knew that there would be positives (much later) but mostly, I was sick at the idea that my sweet baby boy was about to be sharing me, RWF, our home, our life...everything, with this new baby girl. And he had no idea, had given no consent, and had no say in the matter at all.

This time, Bode is almost 2 years older than he was when Gianna was born.  Bode is ready to meet his new brother. Bode will start school a week before the baby arrives, and I hope that he finds school a welcome retreat, and not an interruption to his new life with "Nichoras."

And now, it is Gianna that I worry about. It is Gianna I feel like I am deceiving, even though I've done what I can to "prepare" her (reading stories, talking about the baby in my belly).  She is a little older than Bode was when she was born, but not much. When I ask, "Who is going to be a big sister?" Gianna happily responds, "Me!"  But other than that automatic response, she has no clue about how much her world is about to be rocked. She is only 2, after all. Poor baby. But at least she will always be our little girl.

This is what I wanted: a big family.  I grew up in a large family and I love it. My thinking is, the more siblings, the better. But I had no idea what life had in store. And I didn't know the anxiety that I would experience every time I added to our brood. I didn't know about all the emotions that having children brings.  Everything increases. And it is all good. I am blessed.

Everything will be great. I have two wonderful children right now. And they will welcome this new sibling. And in time, I hope, they will all be super close.  If Bode and Gianna are any indication, then I have nothing to worry about.

Happy Wednesday.

xo

Accomplishments

Today after a diaper change, Gianna insisted on putting her pajama pants back on by herself.  I was skeptical and impatient. And then I thought, "You know what? Let her deal. I've got other things to do."  I let her struggle with putting her little footies into the leg holes while I straightened the playroom. It took awhile, but she did it. All.by.herself.  Big accomplishment! (and might I add? --Bode has never shown any interest, or much ability, in putting on his own clothes. Boys!)

Today, Bode  discovered how to fly.  He races across the living room floor and then crashes into our sofa. This is him "flying."  Suddenly, he is into Spider-man and super heroes. I have no idea how he was introduced to these two subjects. We certainly didn't put them into his head.  But today, he is a flying super hero (when he is not busy playing with his cars).

Runnin, runnin....

Boom! (and Gianna & Hop Hop follow)

Today, as part of my "don't be a lame mom just because you're 24 months pregnant" campaign, I took the babies to the park.  When I was pushing Bode in the swing, he happily shouted, "I'm a SUPER HERO! I'm FLYING!" Gianna repeats everything that Bode says, so she became a flying super hero, too.  I chatted it up with one mom while we were there.  She is the mom to 5 kids.  I told her that she was MY hero, as I'd always wanted 5 kids.  As with any adult who only glances in my direction, I glommed onto her, and was soon chatting her ear off about babies and family-size. I told her how I wasn't ready to stop having babies, but all other signs (really, one, being RWF) point to No.  I became the Scary Woman in the park, the one to avoid, the One Who Shares Too Much. 

Mom of 5 was nice, and seemed to enjoy  (?) the convo, too. She had such a serene, motherly calm about her that I was immediately envious and taking mental notes (note: don't yell at your kids, smile and sweetly distract instead).  She had a 4 year old boy, and she introduced him to Bode.  Bode and Jack played together. I was  happy to see them play together. Bode needs a boy to play with;  I think Mom of 5 was happy, too, since Jack is the only son in her bunch.  

Today, our play room was expanded.  Yes, it appears that a whole entire room is not enough to contain the activity, noise, and traffic that is Bode Wm's world of cars.   Note to RWF: we need a bigger house. (ha! he'll love that)

Oh to be little again and lost in the world of cars play.  Instead, I have to clean and cook. We are having company for dinner tonight.  So despite any desire to lie down and sleep, I need to prepare food and house.
Today I want to have a clean house, and yummy, hot food on the table by 6 PM. Wish me luck!

Hope you have a SUPER (hero) Tuesday.

xo

Morning traffic jam

On our way to camp in the morning, we are always stopped for horse crossings.  I love seeing the beautiful horses walking from stables to tracks.  This weekend is opening weekend for the race track.  I hope to expose the babies to the horses a little more during this race season (without, you know, the crazy race atmosphere).

After we dropped Bode at camp, Gianna and I took Priscilla for a walk. Priscilla is getting more stubborn about going outside.  I feel bad that she is so miserable, but also insist on "kicking her out" first thing in the morning.  She usually clings to the side of the back door until I let her back in again.  I can't always get her to the dog park, and she refuses a walk around our neighborhood with me (the flies!). Sometimes she wakes me at 2 or 3 AM because she needs to go the bathroom. This is not an ideal situation for any of us. 

See ya

I'm ready for camp to be over.  Bode is suddenly speaking differently. It is a combination of a baby voice (think, "wittle" for "little") and a New Yawk accent ("buttah" for "butter") (combined example, "I wan a wittle peanut buttah on mah sanwich!").  I can only imagine that this new style of speaking is coming from a camp friend. It unnerves me.  I am constantly correcting him, as I will not have him speaking like that.  

Happy Thursday.

xo

Hello my name is

So.  When your stomach gets soooo big from pregnancy, it kind of has a mind of its own and it definitely takes on a space of its own. I am so clumsy and awkward right now. I'm constantly bumping into my children, Priscilla, doorways, etc. The other night, RWF was watching TV.  I walked by his chair and I bumped into his elbow.  When I felt  his elbow jab me in the stomach, I glared at him like he had done it on purpose. He looked at me and said, "It was you! Not me!"  True, true.

This afternoon, unbeknownst to me, I was walking around with a name tag slapped across my belly.    When I finally noticed it, I wondered, "How did that get there?"  And then I remembered when I was putting Bode down for a nap, he was talking to my stomach, to "Nichoras,"  saying stuff like, "Okay, okay, you can have that name. You like that name? B-O-D-E! Bode. But your name is not Bode. But you can have that name." Etc.  I wasn't really paying attention then. But I do remember Bode saying stuff like that.

I was desperate to put Bode down for a nap so that I could nap.  So I was listening, but not really, you know, paying attention. (Mother of the Year! Nominate me now!) 

Also, in terms of the name of the baby, and naming him "Nichoras," I'm trying to be quiet. I don't want to give too much weight to "Nichoras" but I also don't want to dash Bode's hopes for the name, confuse Bode, etc. So when he starts talking to "Nichoras," I just  let him go.

The name tag was from Bode's camp this morning. I guess Bode put it on me.  Maybe "Nichoras" asked for the name tag. I'm not sure.  When I asked Bode about it later, and started to remove the name tag from my shirt, he said, "No, no! I want it to stay there."  So I left it there until Bode went to bed tonight.

I did ask Bode to snap some photos. You know, to memorialize this event. 

This weekend, Bode was also writing letters to "Nichoras."  He was very serious about this letter-writing.  He wrote one on Saturday and another one on Sunday. When we asked him what he had written, he wouldn't tell us.  But he did want us to know that he was writing the letters  to "Nichoras."

He is such a sweet boy, this boy whose name is really Bode.  I love him so!

xo

Camp 2

Bode started another week of camp today. I think he likes it.  It is hard to tell because he doesn't really tell me anything.  I ask him if he had fun, and he answers, "Yes."  I ask  him to tell me something that he did at camp, and he answers, "I don't want to talk about it right now." That's about the extent of it. I guess this is preparing me for the teenage years.

He was pink-cheeked and thirsty when I picked him up.  So he stood in the parking area and drank an entire  bottle of juice.  We stood in the shade of a tree while he drank it.  It is supposed to get up to 97 today.

Ai-yi-yi.  I'm from Texas, but I don't do heat.  No, thank you. 

I did take Gianna to the park this morning after dropping Bode at camp.  I promised her that we would do something "fun" after she saw the "fun" that Bode was about to have at camp (she has wised up since last week).    So I pushed her on the swing for about half an hour (no joke) until she finally consented to get off.  Then she played on the slides and tunnel.  

Ringlets courtesy of Grandpa. Thank you, Grandpa!

I think we will stay in this afternoon and have some crafty fun.  I'm in the mood to paint, and I found a fun project online. The project is a little beyond the babies' abilities, but maybe we can have fun with it anyway.

Hope that your Tuesday is cool!

xo

Splash

Miss Independent

This morning, Gianna woke at 6:30 A.M.  This is super early for her (and Bode).  She was kicking her crib and shouting, but in a happy way.  I decided that I had better get to her quickly, before she woke up Bode.  I went in, and she was fine.  "Hi, Mommy," she said, just like she always does.  No diaper leaks, no poopy diaper...so why was she up?   I thought about asking her to please stay in her crib for another hour. But then thought, "She's up..."  So I got her up and dressed. We went downstairs quietly. And while I was getting breakfast together, I watched as she opened up the screen door and slipped out on the patio.  "Now wait just a minute...." I thought.  "Who did she think she was, leaving this house without telling me?  Who was this 2 year old, this baby who now opens doors and goes outside by herself?" I immediately switched into my defensive, lecturing mother stance. But then I took a deep breath. I peeked out the kitchen window and watched her make her way, barefoot, down the deck stairs and onto the dewy grass.  She stepped gingerly, but quickly, making her way around to the front of the house.  I thought about running out there and giving her some parental "guidance," in the form of a lecture about how "we" don't just let ourselves outside and go away by ourselves. Instead, I opened the garage door and ran outside quickly to meet her.  Our paths met, and she looked up, surprised. "Hi, Mommy," she said again.  I smiled, and told her that she needs to tell me if she is going outside so that I can be with her (no lecture, just a friendly chat) and asked her to please put on her shoes.  She put on her shoes and then we walked around the yard together, picking up acorns and pine cones, inspecting flowers and fallen leaves. 

After awhile, we came back inside for some milk and coffee. We sat on the couch and talked. RWF joined us, tickling Gianna while we discussed our weekly agenda. Bode slept an hour later than he normally does, and so the house was quiet and calm.  It was  a peaceful, easy morning.  (and I've made a mental note that the screen door must be locked at all times)

Today we went to a park with a splash pad. It is on our summer list, so it had to be done, right?  Honestly, every time I drove by the splash pad, I'd feel so guilty that I hadn't taken Bode and Gianna there yet.  Mondays are usually my errand-running days.  Today I didn't have an errand (because I ran errands late Saturday night) so I thought that today would be the perfect day for the splash pad. And it was.

Instead of watching my clock, I watched them. I watched as they splashed and played. I watched, until they started showing signs of being tired. When Gianna laid down on the ground, letting the spray just fall over her like so much rain, I knew it was time to leave.  I gathered our things and gently told them that it was time to  go home.  They were ready, and complied without too much resistance. I wrapped Gianna in her towel and she collapsed into my arms, a tired baby bundle to carry to the car.  We were there for an hour and 45 minutes. Had I been watching my clock and sticking to "the schedule," we would have stayed for exactly 1 hour (and I would have fought them for a good 20 minutes trying to get them to leave, before dragging them both to the car).  (Note to self: sometimes, things just work out if you leave things alone and just go with the flow).

Saturday we went for a family swim.  It worked out really well having one child per parent.  First, RWF swam with Gianna while I swam with Bode. Then we switched.  I think the babies enjoyed it, too.  Gianna was on her back and kicking (with RWF holding her). She is a fish in the water, completely at home.

Sunday I cleaned like crazy.  I got so much cleaning done early in the morning, while RWF was on his bike ride. RWF was so impressed.  He kept saying, "I can't believe how much you did," and as if trying to motivate me in the future, adding, "...and it didn't take you that long, either."  Uhm. Yeah.  (Wrong!)  It was a lot of work, but worth it. It is really nice having a completely clean house. I was completely whipped by 5 PM though.  We ate out all weekend (and Thursday, too).   

Bode starts camp again tomorrow.  I really hope that he is enjoying this and getting something out of it. And I hope to use one day this week to do a fun activity for Gianna.  

Successful days like today (waking with Gianna, being at the splash pad) make me feel so good!  It has been a long time since I've felt like I've had an easy time of it (mothering).  When days like this come, when the mothering is easy and doesn't require any thought or stress, I think of my own mother. I think sometimes that she is giving me a nudge, and a wink,  prompting, "This is how it is done."  She was, after all, an expert. 

Happy birthday to my sweet brother!

xo