I Am So Very Thankful

The lull is back a bit - I'm still working on finding a new plastic surgeon, but with the plentiful and quick recommendations I received - all for "the best" surgeons, of course - I am confident that I will find a good fit to replace Dr. J and will soon feel like I actually have someone who is a part of my healing team, a partner in my care.

I have appointments with new plastic surgeons throughout the day on Wednesday and then I start chemotherapy on Thursday morning. So the long Labor Day weekend is now forcing a bit of a lull on me, and this time I am happy to just sit back and enjoy it.

I got to spend yesterday with my sweet baby boy. I can't believe he will be five years old in just a few months. His little brain is so amazing and creative. He's incredible with Legos. He got rewarded with a new set of Star Wars Legos yesterday and as he was putting them together, he announced, "I don't even have to use the instructions. I can use my brain as the instructions!" And he did. The starfighter looks awesome.

Greta wanted to go to the children's museum with Dave, but Fin wanted to stay home and play with me, so we got a much needed and overdue mommy/Finny day. It was perfect.

We played Lego Star Wars for a good part of the day, he curled up in my lap and asked for scary monster stories and we turned the bed into his house when he wanted to play kitty cat. He told me I was his owner, built himself a bed and house out of pillows and a laundry basket, made a tail out of a long necklace, hung a sign on the "house" with his name on it and drank milk from a bowl on the floor. He did this for over an hour.

And while I was having the great mommy day, I also got to use some pent up energy to have an impact on the house. I cleaned up the cancer room and our bedroom, reorganized my half of the closet and the linens in the armoire, and I washed and put away 9 loads of laundry. It was a very productive and fun day.

Turns out I’m sometimes really good with the lulls in my life after all.

I woke up a good three hours before anyone else in the house this morning. And I actually got a good night’s sleep, too; they all just slept in.

During those three hours to myself, I got to do some reading, think about my cancer and listen to some great music. And I realized that as I’m heading into this somewhat daunting week, the emotion I am most feeling right now is thankful.

I am incredibly thankful for my amazing children, for a husband who is working hard to support me through the roller coaster of this stupid illness, and for having my mom and sister close by and knowing they will be by my side in an instant should I ever need either of them for anything at any time of day. I’m also thankful for my dad who, although he is 1500 miles away, can always help me put my stress into perspective with a quick phone call and who reminds me that so much of this stuff is crap and not worth wasting my energy worrying about it.

I am thankful that my niece is healthy despite her premature entry to the world – and I’m thankful that she came early so she was already stable and home by the time I got my diagnosis. I am thankful I was able to support my sister and her family through the rough first weeks of Jillian’s life and that things have settled down for them a bit and I know I can count on their support now. I am thankful that my kids get to grow up close to their cousins. Watching the 2 yr olds play and have conversations with each other is incredibly entertaining.

I am thankful for a great job with really good health insurance. I am thankful for coworkers and supervisors who are supportive and helpful through this illness and who make sure I have the flexibility to work from home when needed and who have let me know my work and projects are covered any time I need to be out for doctor’s appointments, treatments or healing.

And I am hugely thankful for my friends. I have been blessed with an incredible support network and this last six weeks has really shown me how many amazing people I have in my life. I am thankful for my TMS cyber-mommy friends who have made sure I am always surrounded by their love and support. I am thankful for my tireless VL friends – I know a single day hasn’t passed in the last 6.5 weeks when at least one of you hasn’t contacted me, checked in, visited, called, or texted just to say you’re thinking of me and to ask if there’s anything you can do to help me more. You are truly wonderful people.

I am thankful for the high school, college and grad school friends who have gotten in touch after years of little contact just to let me know I’m in their thoughts or prayers, and I am thankful that so many people have added my name to their shirts in various Race 4 the Cure events, Relay for Life events or other fundraisers for cancer awareness and research. I am always honored to know you are thinking of me and wishing me well on this journey.

And as odd as it may sound, I am thankful that this disease has given me an excuse to spend time catching up with a few people who have always made my life more stable with just a phone call – Ray, Rachael, Steph, Allie, Chris – thank you to each of you for the hours on the phone just being normal, being my friend, not judging me, not lecturing me, always loving me no matter what, and for making me laugh until I hurt. You may all live very far away from me, but know you are never far from my thoughts and are always in my heart.

I am thankful for the strong and positive women I have met who have been down this road before me. I am sorry we have all had to experience this journey, but I know my travels down this road have been made easier with your support, advice, recommendations for care providers, and just seeing how normal life can and will be afterwards. I very much appreciate all the trinkets and totems you have shared from your own breast cancer experience and I really hope I never have a need to pass them on to anyone else I love. Laura, Robin, Deborah, Tammy – you have all shared so much with me and I appreciate your strength and openness.

I am thankful to have two very thoughtful and open female doctors on my cancer team. Dr. Jennifer O'Neill and Dr. Robin Obenchain have both been amazingly warm, comforting, informative and approachable throughout this whole experience so far. They both start and end every visit with hugs for everyone in the room. I don't consider myself all that huggy of a person most of the time, but the obvious compassion and concern that these two doctors have for their patients is very appreciated. Everyone warned me that cancer doctors tend to be cold and distant, to forget that there is a person around the cancer rather than just seeing the cancer itself - my breast surgeon and oncologist are two of the warmest, friendliest and most competent doctors I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. I am thankful to have them as partners on my healing team.

I am thankful for good music – this journal entry is brought to you by Mothersbaugh’s Canon by Mark Mothersbaugh (my close-your-eyes-and-just-breathe song since grad school), Glitter in the Air by P!nk, and pretty much anything by Jack Johnson. I am thankful for dancing and laughing until I hurt.

I am thankful for having learned how much I love running before I got sidelined by cancer. I am really looking forward to getting back to it and I hope to run through many more sunrises soon.

I am thankful for sunflowers, butterflies, hedgehogs, watermelons, dancing women, duckface and remote controls – all of which make my cancer-be-gone sanctuary a calm, healing space. I am thankful to have the space to curl up and rest when I need to, even if I don’t use it as much as some of you think I should.

And finally, I am thankful for all of the comments you all have left me here and on facebook. I know so much of what I write is just blathering, navel gazing, getting junk out of my head – but it means a lot to know there are people who care about me enough to read it and let me know you are here to support me.

I hope you all know how much you mean to me. I am thankful that I have today to try to let you know what an impact you have made in my life. I hope we all have many more healthy days to share with each other.

<3

-B-

Had to Write This One Down

Fin just announced, "I don't like problem solving. I just want to walk and fight."

He was talking about video games and fighting with Dave because Dave has put all Lego video games on hold for a few days, but it was still a very funny statement coming from the mouth of our four year old, especially because he is such a little problem solver all the time.

Had to get that one in writing before I forgot it. :)

Fin's Plans for the Future

For a while now, Fin has been working out some plans on what he wants to do with his life. For several months, he's told us that when he grows up he's going to live in Hawaii. He even says he's going to build a treehouse in his backyard so Mommy and Daddy can visit him and "stay in it like a hotel!" I can't wait to see this treehouse.

But more recently, he's been working out some professional decisions. The conversation tends to go like this:

F: "When I'm a grown-up I'm going to do EVERYTHING."
M: "What do you mean?"
F: "I'm going to be everything!"
M: "Oh yeah? What are you going to be first?"
F: "First I'll be a doctor. Then a fire chief. Then I'm going to be a Mario character."

Somehow, our conversations usually come back to a video game reference, but it's still pretty sweet to think that this little guy already has plans to be a doctor and then try to be everything else in the world that might be fun to be.

I hope it's a long, long time before his dreams and hopes get any smaller.

Oh, The Funny Things Finny Says!

The boy has really been cracking us up lately. I've been keeping a list of his gems from the last few weeks. There's no true rhyme or reason to this list; these are just things that made me laugh and I remembered to write them down. Enjoy!


**A couple of weeks ago, Fin got to school, walked right up to one of his classmates (his best buddy PJ that Greta has a huuuuge crush on) and said, "Hello, arch-nemesis!"

Later that week when HaHa went to pick him up from school, she arrived to see his entire class lined up and ready to go inside and Teacher Linda dragging a head-to-toe muddy Fin over to the sink to get cleaned up. She relinquished Fin to HaHa and when HaHa asked what he was doing, he said very loudly with closed muddy fists on his hips: "I WAS TRYING TO SAVE THE WORLD BUT THE BAD GUYS WOULDN'T LET ME!" She asked who the bad guys were and he said everyone but him (he was being Short Round from the Indiana Jones movies) and he needed more outside time to save the world.

**When something isn't going his way, he has started yelling, "Oh DAMAGE!" We know what he thinks he's saying, but it's far enough away to just be funny.

**When he plays with legos, we will often overhear him having one of his lego guys saying, "Curses, foiled again!" (Can you tell he's into comic books and super heros?)

**Lately, whevener he's learned something new or seen a new movie, he will randomly announce for a few days afterwards, "Mommy, I'm really into Robots" (saw the movie last week) or "I'm really into WALL-E". He's always IN to things now.

**He eats two animal-shaped vitamins every day. He has them play with each other on the table for a few minutes and pretends to feed them his acidophilus supplement (which always has to be broken in half so they each have food ), then he will eat one, do a little "ahhhhh!" yell for it as he chews it up, then has the other one say, "I'll save you!" before he throws that one in his mouth, too.

**A couple of nights ago, we went out to eat and before we realized it, he'd grabbed one of the after dinner mints as we walked out the door. So he was eating it in the car on the way home and asked, "Can I save my progress on this and finish it tomorrow?" Yeah, he's been playing a lot of video games lately. :)

**Last night the kids were doing the usual wind-down-for-bedtime jumping on the bed ticklefest. After about a half hour of trying to land on Dave's head, Fin announced, "I'm kind of an amaziac!" It seemed like a very appropriate description.

Wow, Am I Glad I Wrote That Down!

From time to time when I'm away from the computer and the kids do something incredible, adorable, or incredibly adorable (which seems like all the time, honestly) I grab a scrap of paper and scribble down what I can remember in the hopes that I will be able to record it more fully at a later time.

I happened to stumble across one of these gems this evening and have to share it. This was from February 27, 2009 - so about 9 months ago. I wrote it out in pretty thorough detail at the time, so I'll just paste it here. Around this time, Finny and I would often have "convernations" and the kid would say some amazing things.

2/27/09 Bedtime

F: Maybe someday I’ll be a Daddy. And a teacher.
M: Maybe. That would be nice, huh?
F: Yeah.
M: What kind of teacher would you be?
F: A baby teacher!
M: You’d teach babies?
F: Yeah. Babies like Greta.
M: You’d teach babies like Greta?
F: ALL the babies in this town!
M: (laughing by now) That sounds like a good idea.
F: And the next day when baby Colin comes from Texas. I’ll teach him, too.
M: You’re going to teach Colin, too?
F: Yeah.
M: You were teaching Greta today, weren’t you? What were you teaching her?
F: Covering oranges with the grass!

This is exactly what he was doing in PopPop Doug’s yard earlier in the day. We picked oranges from the tree and Fin had put his in the grass and was pulling up pieces of grass to hide it in the yard. Greta saw him doing it and also started pulling grass and holding it over the orange in her hand. When I told Fin that Greta was doing everything he was doing, he told me, “I’m her teacher!”

(Soooo glad I wrote that one down and found it again!)

The Adventures of SqueeBee and Mr. Bunks

I seem to call my children the most ridiculous nicknames. Many of their nicknames come from some variation of their actual names - Finian becomes Fin or Finny, naturally; Greta Marie becomes GretaRee (thanks to her big brother) or Greta Boo just because they're cute names.

But there is a whole other breed of nickname in this house that evolve from things that once made sense and now seem random and odd. My favorites in this family are SqueeBee for Greta and Mr. Bunks for Fin.

When Greta was born, she was a squeaky little baby. Fin was a grunter as an infant (when he wasn't screaming or projectile vomiting from his reflux), but Greta always sounded like a tiny little girl, so I started calling her Squeaky Baby from time to time because, well, she was.

Squeaky Baby became Squeaky, which became Squeaker, which became Squeaker Beeker, which has sometime in the last almost-two years become SqueeBee. And she's an adorable little SqueeBee, too.

Fin's nickname evolved from him being a climber. I have mentioned in the past that he climbed well before he could walk. We have pictures of him proudly sitting atop the fireplace at about 10 months old and his first steps didn't happen until 14 months. So we called him Monkey. Monkey became Monkey Bunky (yes, I like to rhyme), which became Monkey Bunks, which became Mr. Bunks. I'm not sure why the formality arrived, but it suits him well at almost 4.

In addition to the current favorite nicknames, both kids have a variety of names to which they will respond. Since a very, very young age, I will often ask Fin if he is my "...insert silly name..." and he will say yes. This list (and it is always a list) includes:

Honey Bunny Baby Bear
Funny Little Monkey Man
Cutie Patootie Pants
Little Funny Bunny
Sweetie Peetie Pumpkin Pie

I know there will come a day, and I fear it is sooner than I will be prepared for, when he will not allow me to call him these ridiculous names, but for now it's one of my favorite snuggle activities with this kid. Oh yeah, he's my Snuggle Buggle, too.

Greta's catalogue of nicknames doesn't have quite the range of silly, but they all suit her just as well. In addition to the GretaRee which Fin bestowed upon her at a few weeks old because he couldn't quite say Greta Marie, there have been several variations on that trend.

GretaRoo (often in conjuction with GretaRee)
Greta Boo
Boo Boo Baby
Boo
Peanut

I'm sure there are more that I'm forgetting, but they also get the usual cutie pie, sweetie, etc. as well.

Kind of makes you wonder why I gave them names at all if I'm just going to call them whatever I want, doesn't it? But there's still a nice ring to "Finian Xavier!" or "Greta Marie!" when they're doing atrocious things in public. ;) I don't think "Mr. Bunks!" would carry as much weight to stop misbehavior in its tracks. Though who am I kidding? The full name never works as well as I'd expect, either. Maybe I need to come up with some new names for moments of mischief...

Hmm... I'll get to work on that.

Well, That Was Short-Lived

I spoke too soon. Fin slept in his big boy bed for five nights, then decided he was done.

Of those five nights, I slept with him for the entire night one time. Three of the other nights he had nightmares that had him crying and flailing in his sleep and I had to go rub his head and back to help him settle down again (even though he never actually woke up). Two of the nights I ended up crawling into his bed for the last hour or so of the early morning sleep so he wouldn't wake up alone.

One of the mornings he woke up alone in his bed and was ANGRY and betrayed to be alone despite the fact that we were in our bed only a few feet away and he often wakes up alone in our bed in the mornings with no anger or frustration.

The fifth night, about 5 am (his usual nightmare time), I heard a whimper and thrashing about, but no crying. I sat up in bed, trying to determine whether he needed me to help soothe him back to sleep or if he was just tossing and turning. After a moment, I heard him slide out of bed.

He came into our room looking very sad with him arms held up for a giant hug. I held him close and asked if he wanted me to come lay down in his bed with him again and he said, "No. I want to sleep here."

I told him how brave he was for coming to find us when he woke up instead of crying or yelling for us and made room for him in our bed again. I hoped this was a step in the right direction for the transition to the big boy bed.

That night, as bedtime approached, we asked if he was ready to head over to his bed after stories and he replied, "No, I already slept there five nights. I'm going to sleep here now."

And he's been back in our bed every night since. Any time we mention sleeping in his room again, he reminds us that he's already done it five times. Apparently that's enough.

I wonder when he'll be ready to try again. In the meantime, he's still a sweet, cuddly sleeper and I don't mind him still being in our bed.

Some Said This Day Would Never Come

Finny has slept in his big boy bed for the last three nights!

I have been in no rush to move Fin out of our bed - partly because I feel like I never get to see the kids since I'm at work all day, partly because it's really sweet to snuggle with him, and partly because when we did try about a year ago, I ended up being up with each kid 2-3 times a night.

But a few nights ago, I'd gotten Greta down in her room and as usual, returned to find Fin and Dave reading and cuddling and ready for bed. We turned out the lights and tried to get Fin to settle down. He did the usual asking for more books, more stories, etc., then he suddenly said, "Let's get our Heat Suit Batman costumes so we can get through the lava to my big boy bed and sleep there!"

Um, huh? (Yes, we have played LOTS of Lego Batman in our house. They finished the game last weekend and have now moved on to Lego "IndiAN and Jones".)

I asked if he wanted to sleep in his big boy bed and he said yes, jumped out of bed and opened the armoire. At this point, I thought he was just stalling bedtime, so I asked what he was doing and he said, "I'm getting my Heat Suit! My room is all filled up with lava and we need the suits to get to the bed."

I watched with amusement as he pretended to put on a suit to protect him from the lava and then did a little tightrope walk at the foot of the bed. But when he headed into his room, I realized he meant it, so I jumped up and followed him.

He crawled right into bed, snuggled under the covers and was asleep within 10 minutes. Bedtime usually takes 30-45 minutes after turning the lights off.

Once he was asleep, I got up (as usual), did some stuff around the house and then went to sleep in my own bed. At one point in the night he started coughing and I bolted out of bed because he wasn't next to me and I was very confused. An hour or so later he had a bad dream and started calling out in his sleep, so I went to him, rubbed his head (he was still asleep) and he rolled over and slept peacefully.

The only drawback was when he woke up. I was already nursing Greta in my bed and suddenly heard a big whine from his room and the accusation, "You were supposed to stay with me all night!!!!!"

Dave and I decided to just tell him I was nursing Greta and that's why I wasn't there with him rather than let him know he'd done all night by himself already. On the one hand, I wanted him to know he could do it (and HAD done it) but he also seemed to feel really betrayed by me not being there, so we decided to just be vague about it.

I had no idea if this was a one time request to sleep in his own bed, but that night, after books and stories, he just climbed right out of our bed, walked into his room and announced, "You have to stay here with me all night this time."

That night went great (aside from me sleeping in a twin bed with a wiggledy three year old) and he actually woke up giggling to himself. He laughed, rolled over and said, "I had a dream with balloons!" Then he announced he had to pee, got up to do so and went straight to the other room to play with Legos.

Last night was night three. Again bedtime went very quickly in his own bed. Dave and I debated whether I should stay or not. We don't want him to feel like he's being tricked when he sleeps in his own bed, but we also want this transition to stick. (Well, part of me wants it. Part of me misses my snuggle buggle boy. LOL But I have to let him grow up sometime and if he's ready now then I have to be, too, right?)

I laid with him until he was asleep, then got up to do things around the house. I went to sleep in my own bed, but he had two nightmares again. The first one just had him crying in his sleep, but when I went to comfort and hug him, he started screaming, "Don't DO that!" over and over until I just rubbed his back, then he was deeply asleep again in about 2 seconds. A few hours later he was crying again, so at that point I just crawled into bed and slept next to him to keep him comforted.

I did tell him this morning that he spent most of the night alone in his big boy bed and he was very surprised and proud of himself when he said, "I DID?!?!?" It was pretty cute.

So, I think this thing is actually happening. I'm still a little sad about him growing up so much so quickly, but then again - he is almost 4 and we've been cosleeping this whole time. I knew he'd want his own space eventually. My only concern right now is that he seems to have more nightmares and sleeps poorly when he's on his own. But I also have no interest in cosleeping in a twin bed.

My little boy is getting all growed up!

Talking With Teacher Linda

We had Finny's first Parent-Teacher Conference this week. Dave was a bit nervous about how Fin might be fitting in, but I was just excited to hear about his skills.

It came as no surprise to us that Teacher Linda said he has exceptional math and verbal skills. She said it was obvious that he spends time around people who like numbers, to which Dave and I both just laughed and agreed. She also said that he had some trouble with a few large motor skills like kicking or catching a ball, which was also no surprise to us, considering who his parents are. (Afterwards, Dave commented that if someone gave him a ball, he'd be happy to turn it in to a spaceship or bury it in the dirt, but it would never occur to him to try to throw it to anyone. Yeah, I think the kid has a natural disadvantage on that athletic front...)

Overall, he's doing great in school and Teacher Linda told us to just keep doing what we're doing with him. He is a little behind (but still in the normal range for a three year old) on writing skills, still using a fist grip on pencils and such, but was off the charts on being able to use scissors, logical thinking and being able to follow directions in order. She said he has a great imagination and she is impressed with his vocabulary. When he said he was Robin for Halloween, she asked if meant a bird. He replied, "No, Robin the sidekick!" She was very amused by him knowing the word sidekick.

Teacher Linda told us that socially, he is a little less connected with the other kids - he will notice when someone is upset or hurt, but he will not stop what he's doing to check on them or comfort them as some other 3yr olds will. But looking over the list of peer interaction skills, they are all things he would do with Greta or Liam (cooperative play, not just parallel play) so it will just take a bit of time until he's comfortable enough with his classmates to show those behaviors at school. She did say he would approach her and talk to her directly when she asked him questions, but is a little quieter with his classmates.

We mentioned that he does talk about the kids at school and tells us who his friends are and who he plays games with. She was happy to hear it and said it was all moving in the right direction. In fact, after school today he personally invited 3 of his classmates over for a playdate this week - his idea!

When she asked if we had any questions about his development, Dave mentioned that he NEVER wants to go to school, no matter how much advance warning he has about the transition. He's started faking illnesses in the mornings to get out of going to school and even yesterday told us he wanted to stay home from school to watch the Lightning McQueen movie and eat Halloween candy. (No dice, kid.)

She said that behavior was common in gifted kids (yea!) because they get so focused on whatever they're doing, so involved in their activities that they do not want to stop them. Yep, sounds like Finny all right. However, she also said she did not see any issues with him transitioning between activities in the classroom, so it's not a concern right now.

In all, there was no major surprise in the meeting, which is good. He's a bright, funny, imaginative kid and she said he was great to have in class. He was behind on a few things, but at a 5-6yr old level on some other skills, so he's doing well. And the things he's a little behind on (socialization) are all things being in school will help, so we're on the right track!

In a few months she will evaluate him again using the 4yr old standards, so we'll have another conference in the spring. In the meantime, more books and play and fun with Fin! Y

I Heart Bedtime

Well, I've pretty much always loved bedtime. I'm sure there was a time in my life when my parents would have argued against that statement, but for the most part, I am a fan of sleep whenever and wherever I can get it.

But my current affection for bedtime actually has nothing to do with sleep, nothing to do with the peace and quiet that comes after the little ones doze off for the evening and absolutely everything to do with those little ones themselves.

As a full time work-outside-the-home mom, I generally feel like I don't get to see the kids enough. I still wish I got to spend more quality time with them throughout the day, but I have to say that lately, we've stumbled into a really sweet and fun bedtimeroutine .

Sometime after dinner, whether there's a bath or not, we all end up in our bedroom. The kids may need to be led in there against their will or they may make their way in there by playing "hide seek" (Gretish) after dinner. Either way, there is playtime in the bed that usually involves jumping, tickling, reading books, snuggling and lots and lots of giggling.

Sometime in there, jammies get put on, a diaper gets added, hands and faces get washed (if it's not a bath night), and teeth get brushed. Eventually stories get read and the lights get turned off for stories in bed for Fin while I take Greta to her room for nursing and snuggles. One of the sweetest highlights, however, is Greta's almost constant request for singing.

Last night I was reading a counting book to Greta. I'd turn the page, ask her the animal and we'd count together. On the page with 5, the picture was of beluga whales. Greta saw the animal and immediately ordered, "sing."

It had been a while since we'd read this book together - maybe a few months - yet the girl remembered I once sang Raffi's Baby Beluga to her on that page.

Well, I made up some words and sang it to her, then tried to continue with 6. Nope. She turned the page back. "Sing. More Baby Nuga."

This went on for a while until I decided it was time to get her to her room. Even there, once she seemed to be dozing off, she raised her read and said:

G: "More Baby Nuga"
M: "No baby, it's time for sleep."
G: "Sing."
M: "No baby, it's time for sleep."
G: "Backin" (Thumbkin)
M: "No baby, it's time for sleep."
G: "Nemo"
M: "No." (laughing because I don't know a Nemo song anyway)
G: "Dory"
M: "No."
G: "Me." (pointing to herself)
M: "No baby, it's time for sleep."
G: "Me sing."
M: "You want a Greta song?"
G: "Uh-huh"

Well, how could I resist that? I sang her one of the love songs I made up about her and have sung since she was tiny.

G: "One more."

Oookay. I'm a pushover.

G: "More."
M: "No baby, it's time for sleep." (laughing again - she is persistent)

She finally seemed to be dozing off, until about 5 minutes later when she suddenly raised her head and said again:

G: "More Baby Nuga."

Well, it worked before, right? :) I snuggled with her a bit more - no more singing - and finally put her in her crib where she chattered to herself for a few minutes and went to sleep.

I returned to our bedroom to find Finny and Dave still reading superhero stories. We turned off the lights and settled in with a few kisses and goodnights and such.

Just when I thought Fin was dozing off, he was suddenly squirming and fidgeting and I rolled over to see him doing downward dog in bed. When he gets wound up like that, we've discovered it's easier to let him get the energy out (and try to tire him out) rather than continually telling him to settle down. So I suggested some exercise.

F: "What exercises should I do?"
M: "Jumping jacks."

He did jumping jacks - which at three years old is really just jumping up and down while waving his arms around - and regular jumping and rolling side to side and sit ups and backbends and bicycle kicks and reverse crunches before finally deciding he was tired. He snuggled into bed and then asked, "Can I tell you a story?"

Again, how could I resist that?

It went something like "*whipser*whisper*whisper*" (no idea what he was saying) "and there was a big splash *whisper* in front of Liam's house and there was a flood and it wasn't from rain and we got stuck in the mud and it was SLIPPERY! *whisper*"

Then he rolled over, said "Freckle," put his hand on my chest and was asleep in about 3 minutes.

I know our bedtime rituals are not exactly conventional. We don't make the kids fall asleep alone. We cosleep and allow the kids access to our bed for snuggles and family time. I might feel differently about these things if I felt I got to see the kids enough during the day, but I treasure our bedtime conversations and our nighttime snuggles.

Every night I get to marvel at their creativity and humor and share the wonder of their discoveries. Their personalities are so amazing and our bedtime rituals and games are so much fun. I've long been a fan of bedtime, but these days, it's definitely my favorite part of the day.

Fin's Latest Favorites

So after rereading a few entries from last year, I found myself alone in the car with Finny this afternoon and thought it might be fun to see how he answered the questions about his favorite things now. It was an amusing conversation.

Me: "Hey Finny, what's your favorite thing about Greta?"
Fin: "umm..." (silence)
M: "What's your favorite thing about Daddy?"
F: "Plaaaaaying!"
M: "What's your favorite thing about Mommy?"
F: "Freckle!"

Yes, still. No hesitation, I swear. LOL No priming, either. He has no idea we've had this conversation before. I was cracking up.

M: "What's your favorite thing about Greta?"
F: "When she tickles me!"

This is such a sweet answer and I assume the conversation is over. I was wrong.

F: "Talk more, Mommy."
M: "About what?"
F: "About all the things I love!"

M: "Okay, what's your favorite thing about Liam?"
F: "Playing Batman and Robin."
M: "What's your favorite thing about PopPop Doug?"
F: "Playing with Liam."

Not really about PopPop there, but I let it go. We were on a roll by this time.

M: "What's your favorite thing about HaHa?"
F: "She tells jokes."
M: "What's your favorite thing about GaGa?"
F: "Going to her house."
M: "What's your favorite thing about PopPop Art?"
F: "Making holes and watching the Penguin."

This last one confused me. I knew the making holes was referring to digging holes in the back yard together, but I had no idea what "watching the Penguin" meant. Apparently, they have some sort of game where anyone with an umbrella is the Penguin from Batman, but the follow up questions sidetracked our conversation and we didn't get to run through the rest of the family before we made it home.

I have to admit, I was more than a little surprised that he still listed the freckle as his favorite thing about Mommy, but considering he still asks for it at bedtime and when he's sad/hurt/scared/upset, I guess I should have expected it. I assume he won't go to Kindergarten and still be sticking his hand down my shirt for comfort, but I guess we'll see. :)

Sounding It Out

A couple of weeks ago, the kids and I were reading bedtime stories together as usual. Greta had picked out a big ABC book and Fin was reading the alphabet to her.

He started strong and went through A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, and M. When he got to N, he sat for a moment and tried to sound it out, "nnnnn, nnnnn, nnnn." Finally, he whispered to himself, "F....I....N!" and then announced, "N!" and proceeded to complete the alphabet for his sister.

His little brain amazes me.

Halloween Preview!

A few weeks ago, we pulled out all the dress up costumes to see what might still fit for Halloween and generally just to pass some time playing. Unfortunately, we don't have a lot that will fit Finny right now (time to update the dress up collection at the after Halloween costume sales!) but Greta has TONS to choose from when she wants to dress up!

The Tigger and Clifford the Big Red Dog costumes were worn by Finny when he was her age. The Tigger one fits her pretty well, despite the face she's making, but the Clifford one swallowed her up. Her little hands and feet are in there somewhere! LOL

She was NOT at all a fan of the fairy costume. She said it was itchy and wore it for maybe 10 seconds before pulling it off again. But she made a very adorable frog and stared at herself in the mirror for a long time in that one.

Finny can still fit in the Buzz Lightyear costume, but of course, once Greta saw her big brother in it, she demanded to get to wear it, too. It was huge, but she liked it.

And for Halloween itself, Finny is going to be Robin to Liam's Batman. (Cute little crime fighters, aren't they?) The boys have worn their costumes for several playdates already and we pieced together a pretty good Batgirl outfit for Greta as well so she didn't feel left out.

Once Halloween rolls around, Greta has an adorable witch costume, which is purple of course.

Quick Finny Catch Up

Unfortunately, I don't have Finny's first preschool photo to share yet, but I'll post it when I get it, I promise. Still a good lookin' kid in this one, though.

In the meantime, this kid is getting HUGE! He's so tall for a 3 yr old that most people assume he's at least 5. He's maybe one inch shorter than his uncle Liam, who is 5.5 yrs old. He is still so very sweet and funny, and of course I think he's a genius, but again - there's that mom bias, right?

He is now in preschool 3 mornings a week. He NEVER wants to go to school, but he also NEVER wants to leave once he's there. He likes his teachers and new friends, but he generally never wants to stop anything he's doing to start anything else, regardless of how much advance warning you give him or how fun the new thing will be. The kid just doesn't dig transitions much.

He is an amazing big brother and is very patient with Greta - most of the time. He lets her help him build Legos, he always assigns her a character in his pretend play (Batman, Bloat, whoever), and he loves to read books with her. A few weeks ago when she would still say "kack" when you pointed to a duck, he would tell her, "Greta, say 'duck'" until she did. Y

Fin's drawings are really starting to look like the things he intends them to look like (which is way more than I can say of my own drawings, but I digress) and even his teachers have been impressed with some of his artwork. The other day he drew a very nice rainbow, then added a leprechaun, and then drew raindrops all over the back of the picture. I love how his little mind works.

Catching Up

Well, the whirlwind of birthdays and holidays is giving us a little break right now. Granted, today is Colin's first birthday, but he's in Texas and we won't be heading that way until the weekend, so things are getting back to normal here for a few days at least.

Fin's birthday and his first "friend" party went great! I'll share some pictures soon, but he and all his little friends had a blast with the ball pit, tents and tunnels and of course, the Nemo ice cream cake! Yum.

Christmas was fun, too. The kids got a couple of fun animal tents (a zebra and a shark) which take up tons of space in the house, but they also mean a few hours of playing and hiding when they're up, so they were definitely worth it. And Santa brought a play kitchen, too. Fin had fun helping Daddy assemble it (well, until more family showed up with more presents!) and both kids play with it just about every day. One of his favorite things to make for us is "animal soup". He throws in all his small animals, along with all the fruits and veggies he can find and maybe a hot wheel car or two, and serves it up steaming hot!

Greta just likes to wear the kitchen sink on her head. (I have pictures of this, but am having trouble uploading them right now. Boo.) Her other new favorite thing to do is give kisses! Our little sweetie will pinch her lips together, raise her chin and then say "Mmmmmm-wah!" as she walks across the room to plant one on us. LOVE that!

All in all, it's been a great holiday season and aside from a yuck-o cold I have right now, 2009 is off to a nice start as well. We have a few more birthdays and events in the coming weeks (the trip to Texas this weekend for Colin's first, GaGa's birthday and Uncle Richard's birthday in a few weeks, then our fifth wedding anniversary!) but I don't expect to disappear from the updates again anytime soon.

Will post pictures soon when Blogger is cooperating.

Fin's Birth Letter

Fin's arrival three years ago was... unexpected. Of course, we knew we were having a baby, we just thought we had about six more weeks before he showed up.

The experience of his arrival was terrifying, traumatic and scary - but the reality of his arrival, of his being with us, was and is just amazing. His first few months were really, really hard and even the distance of three years' time doesn't make me remember those sleepless, exhausting, uncertain moments any more fondly. But every time he smiles or gives me a hug or kiss or even just breathes softly in his sleep, I know I wouldn't change a thing because that experience gave us the sweet little guy we have right now.

So, here is the letter I wrote to Fin a few days after his birth. We'd been home from the hospital (out of the NICU) for a few days and I had been having some pretty traumatic flashbacks to his brith experience. I knew writing it down would help me have some distance from it as I tried to heal physically and mentally, and I wanted him to know how incredible I already knew he was.

If you haven't already read this letter, I should warn that it might be a good idea to have a tissue handy. I know I can't read it without crying, but then I'm his mom and I lived this. Things have calmed down since we first met, but every single day with my sweet little Fin has been incredible.

Enjoy.

*******************************************

December 24, 2005

A Letter to my Sweet Baby Finian, about your birth –

I am entering my 35th week of pregnancy when the cramps start. They are low across my back and remind me of menstrual cramps, but not too intense or severe. Backrubs from your dad and a heating pad help some. They do not worry me because I know my body is just getting ready to push you out in about 5 weeks.

A few times before bed, I notice I have started to have actual contractions – the cramp spreads from my lower back around to my abdomen and everything is tight and painful for about 45 seconds. I concentrate on relaxing and breathing through the contraction, getting ready for the non-medicated childbirth your dad and I have planned. The contractions are not regular and I know false labor is common. I am not worried. These continue on and off for about 4 days.

On Thursday I feel a lot of these “practice” contractions and am very uncomfortable. I call our midwife Donna to let her know that the contractions are getting more painful. We have an appointment scheduled to see her for the next day, and I know she’ll tell me to just rest and relax, but I think she should know that I am getting a little concerned. After all, as much as I am eager and anxious to meet you, we aren’t expecting you for another 5 weeks and 4 days.

Donna says that if I had reached 35 weeks she would tell me everything I was feeling was normal. But, since I am still a few days away from that mark, I am supposed to keep a very close eye on what I am feeling and let her know if things change. If I feel the contractions more than once every ten minutes for a full hour, or have more than 6 in an hour, or if they do not go away when I use the bathroom or elevate my feet or lie down or relax in the tub, then I am supposed to call. Otherwise, she will see me at my appointment the next afternoon.

I keep track of what is happening. I take a nap and they stop. They come back when I wake up, but stop when I walk around a bit. Finally, that night, when nothing else will make them go away, I take a bath. For the first time in the whole pregnancy, they do not stop when I am in the tub. But they also do not become more regular or more intense. I can talk through most of them and even though they last anywhere from 30 seconds to over a minute, they come at 6 minutes, then 20 minutes, then 12 minutes, then 4 minutes and so on. They never become “real labor”.

On the morning of Friday, December 16th, I get up and am visiting with your Grandpa Terry, who is in town visiting us. I am telling him how excited we are to meet you, but how there is so much stuff we still need to get done before you show up. Your furniture hasn’t been delivered, we don’t have diapers for you, but most importantly, I do not feel I am ready to push you out yet. I don’t feel like I know what I am going to do when I really start to hurt and I tell him that with all the pains and contractions I have been feeling all week, I am worried that I won’t be able to manage the pain when the time comes.

I go to the bathroom that morning and discover that I have lost my mucus plug. Your dad and I look through all the baby books we have around to see if that means something is about to happen. One book says I will probably start real labor in 24-48 hours, but another book says it could be anywhere from one to three weeks. Our appointment with Donna is in about 6 hours, so I figure we will just let her know then.

We decide to go out for breakfast, so I go to take a shower. Once in the shower, I start having some contractions in my lower back and they hurt more and more, but again, they are not coming at regular intervals. The shower feels really good on my back and my big pregnant tummy, so I just stay in there for a while. Your dad comes to check on me and I figure it is time to get out and go to breakfast. However, just as I am about to turn off the water, I feel a big gush. My water has broken!

Your dad quickly calls Donna’s office to let them know that my water has broken – a sign that labor is usually pretty close behind. I am in the shower thinking that my body will know what to do, but it is too early for you to come out yet. I am getting scared, but I just kept telling myself that God knows what He is doing and will help me figure it all out. She asks if I am having contractions and at this point they have slowed down, so she says to just come in to my appointment in a few hours, but call if anything changes.

Your dad hangs up the phone and when he walks back into the bathroom, he finds me on my hands and knees in the shower having a very big, very painful contraction. We wait to see if they are going to come every 5 or 10 minutes, but within a minute or two, I have another. He calls Donna right back and she says we have to get to the hospital immediately. They need to monitor us to make sure you are okay.

Your grandpa had been a paramedic for a few years and had delivered a few babies, so it is very nice for me to have him nearby. He’s always very calm and I know he at least is familiar with women in labor – at least he has more experience with what is happening to us than either your dad or I have. I come out of the bathroom and find him telling me that everything is going to be okay, the contractions will slow down, we’ll have plenty of time to get where we need to be and we’ll all be fine. In fact, at this point, I am still thinking we are going to go to the hospital and be told that you are still weeks away from showing up. When I walk out of the bathroom and put on my watch to start keeping track of the contractions, it is 10:40am on December 16, 2005.

Your dad is going all over the house collecting the things we might need if I really am in labor. I get down the hallway from our bedroom and am already having another contraction. Your grandpa sits next to me, rubs my lower back, and tells me everything is going to be okay – the contractions will slow down any minute now. I try to concentrate on just pushing the button on my stopwatch every time the contractions start or stop, but I notice that I am only having about a minute or so to rest in between them.

After a few minutes, your grandpa decides that things are not slowing down after all and tells your dad it is time to get me in the car and get to the hospital. Unfortunately, the hospital is 25 miles away – something everyone told us was not going to be an issue because real labor always takes a really long time. They both help me up after a contraction and before I have taken three steps, I am back on the floor having another contraction. By this time, we are all starting to get scared. I realize that I just have to make it across the living room and into the garage so we can get going. After the next contraction, I just make myself go. They have pillows in the back of the car and I lie down just as another contraction hits me.

*******************************************

The car ride to the hospital is very scary. I keep concentrating on hitting the button on my stopwatch, but at this point, I know that something is not right. I was not in labor at all, and then I was suddenly having contractions that lasted a minute each with only a minute or less in between to catch my breath. Your dad is driving us to the hospital and both of them are telling me that everything is fine.

At first, I am trying to just take lots of deep breaths when the contractions hit. Before I know it, I am saying “okay okay okay okay okay.” I am telling myself that I am going to be okay, that you are fine, that everything is going to work out. I am scared, but I can handle this. The contractions keep coming.

In a few minutes, I hear myself saying “ow ow ow ow ow.” I cannot believe how much it hurts, but I know that if I just try to stay calm everything will be fine. You will be fine, I will be fine and it will all just be a great story to tell. I am kicking the car door with my feet to try to get the pain away from me. The contractions keep coming.

I am suddenly yelling “no no no no no.” The contractions are too close. They hurt too much. Something is not right. I am scared. I am hitting the back of your dad’s seat in front of me. Your grandpa is holding my hand. I notice that he has put his seat down in front and is facing backwards to try to help me. He tells me he does not want to have to deliver you in the car.

Then I am just screaming. I try to hold a pillow to my mouth so I don’t scare your dad too much. I think that I have never heard my voice make that sound before, but that sound is all that I can feel. I can see only bright red. I can only scream.

The contractions keep coming.

Between the contractions, I try to tell your dad that I am okay. I have to scream because it hurts, but he should not be scared. I touch his neck and tell him we are fine. I hope I am right. I am still hitting the button on the stopwatch.

As the hospital comes into view, I feel you start to come out of my body. I know it is too soon and just keep telling myself not to push. I cannot push.

Your dad pulls up to the ER and your grandpa jumps out of the car to get someone to help. In between contractions I tell your dad I can feel you. I can feel that you are ready to come out. You are already in the birth canal. A contraction hits and I tell myself not to push.

A nurse runs to the car with a wheelchair and tells your dad and grandpa to run to the lobby and get the elevator. She is running with me and through the contraction I can see the back of your dad running away from me. We get into the lobby and the elevator is waiting. Your grandpa is holding my hand and I look around. Where is your dad? He had to move the car. He is not with me. I will not see him again for hours.

We get to the maternity floor and someone tells me to hop up on the bed. Between contractions, I ask “HOP???” They remind me that another contraction is coming so I move fast, get on the bed and take off my underwear so they can examine me. I see blood.

A nurse named DeeDee takes one look and says, “We have a prolapsed cord.” I know this is not good. I know this is what I felt when I said you were trying to leave my body. It is not you; it is your life support system. If this cord gets outside before you, you cannot breathe and your brain and organs can get hurt or stop working. DeeDee immediately puts her hand inside me to keep you off your own cord.

They tell me they will have to perform surgery on me to get you out. I do not care; I just want you to be safe. I hear someone say you might be breech. I tell them that you were at the last midwife visit two weeks ago. They are rubbing something cold on my stomach so they can do the surgery. It hurts. They stick my hand to give me drugs and apologize. I tell them I don’t care; I just need you to be okay. I am praying and praying, “please be okay, please be okay”. It’s all I can say or think. I am having contractions and they are telling me not to push. I say, “I am not pushing. I am not pushing. Please be okay, baby, please be okay.”

The doctor is on his way. They tell me they are giving me something so I don’t feel the contractions. I hear someone say they see poop – this is meconium. It means you are not doing well. Someone else says your heartrate is in the 90s. This also means you are not well. I am so scared. The doctor is still four minutes away. They put a mask on me and tell me to take long slow breaths. I still feel the contractions and there is nothing coming from the mask. I do not care if I have to be awake when they cut you out of me; I just need you to be okay. They are pushing on my throat so they can give me a breathing tube when the surgery starts. They are giving me a catheter and apologizing for hurting me. The only thing that can hurt me now is if you are not okay. Someone tries to tell DeeDee to move so they can examine me. I hear her say she is keeping this baby off this cord and alive. She will not move. I thank God for DeeDee.

They are arguing over whether they can start without the surgeon. They say they need to cut now to get you out. Someone says it’s time to knock me out and cut. The anesthesiologist says he will not drug me until it’s time to cut. They cannot cut until the doctor is there. I do not care if I am awake when they cut me, but I selfishly hope for drugs because I am so scared. Someone whispers to me that you are doing okay, your heartrate is back up. I do not know if I should believe him, but I pray that he’s telling the truth. Someone says the doctor is in the building, the mask is back on me and I feel them grab my skin and start to cut me open to get you out. Please be okay, my baby. The drugs kick in and I am blissfully unaware of what happens next.

*******************************************

Later, your dad and grandpa fill me in on the next twenty minutes. They are in the waiting room and nobody is telling them anything. People are running in and out of the operating room. Codes are being called. Resuscitation teams are being called. A nurse leaves the room and will not make eye contact with them. They are preparing for the worst.

Finally, the doctor comes out to talk to them. You are okay. I am okay. They still do not exhale. The doctor asks your dad if he wants to see you. He gets to meet you within minutes of your birth.

When you were born, they doctors said you were “severely depressed and completely unresponsive”. At one minute of life, you stopped breathing and they had to do a complete resuscitation. They gave you a breathing tube just like I had. Your first Apgar score was a 2.

When your dad gets to meet you for the first time, you have a tube in your throat and someone is breathing for you. With your dad watching, they remove your breathing tube and stand ready to resuscitate you again. To everyone’s amazement you are breathing on your own. Your lungs are good and strong. At ten minutes of life, you are breathing room air on your own. Your dad got to see your first real breaths of air. When they redo your Apgar test at ten minutes, you score an 8. (Your five minute Apgar score is a 5.)

They are able to determine that your brain, lungs and most organs are okay, but they are worried that your stomach and digestive system suffered the most distress from the umbilical cord being squashed. They keep you in the NICU on monitors, antibiotics and IVs until they can find out how okay you are.

The surgeon tells your dad it is the fastest surgery he has ever performed. He never even changed into scrubs before they cut me; they just threw a gown over his clothes and gave him two sets of gloves because he did not have time to scrub in.

*******************************************

When I wake from my drug haze, someone tells me you are okay. You were born at 11:51am. I remember that it was 10:40am when I got out of the shower that morning. I am amazed that you are here so quickly. Your grandpa is sitting at the foot of my bed just waiting for me to wake up. He tells me you have curly red hair like I did when I was born. I have never seen him look so relieved.

They tell me I was fully dilated when we arrived at the hospital. I went from false labor to fully ready to deliver in just over an hour. That explains the pain.

The nurse tells me in twelve years of being a maternity nurse she has seen only two prolapsed cords. It was a very scary day for all of them. They are all calling you the “Christmas miracle baby of 2005.” I still cannot believe you are here. You are 34 weeks and 4 days gestational age. The earliest they like to let babies come out is 37 weeks. You are a preemie.

It is good that I gained too much weight during the pregnancy. You are 5 lbs 13.8 oz at birth. This is small, but a very good size for a preemie. You are 18.5 inches long at birth. You are tall and skinny just like your dad.

Your dad comes into the room and I tell him we have a baby. He knows – he’s been with you in the NICU the whole time. He took pictures of you on his cell phone to show to me. They will not let you come to me because you are on monitors and they will not let me go to you because I am also hooked up to machines and heavily drugged.

They tell me I cannot see you until I can walk to the NICU on my own and I cannot walk until I’m off the drugs. I tell them to stop giving me drugs. They insist that I am in pain and keep giving me shots that knock me out. I am angry and say I just want to see my baby. They tell me that because I had a general anesthetic instead of a spinal, my recovery will be much harder and more painful. I tell them I don’t care – I can handle pain, I just need to see you. They finally quit giving me Demerol.

Finally, after twelve hours, my head is clear enough that I can walk. At midnight, I finally get to see you and touch you. They will not let me hold you yet. You are so small and have so many wires and tubes attached to you. But you are here, you are alive and you are more amazing and beautiful than I ever could have hoped.

The next day they let me hold you to give you your first bottle. We wanted to give you only breast milk, but they tell me that you are too small to nurse right now. The lactation consultant warns us that because you are a preemie, it might be a month or more before you are strong enough to get a good latch and really eat from the breast. They also tell us you are tongue tied, which means your tongue does not stick out over your bottom gums like it should. This will also make breastfeeding harder. Again, I tell them I do not care. I know that breast milk is the best thing for you, especially as a preemie, so I insist on learning how to pump right away. After that first bottle, every time you eat you have a few drops of colostrum from me, whatever I can get out.

Within two days, my milk has come in and you are eating breast milk exclusively from a bottle. We are practicing putting you to the breast a few minutes at a time. They are amazed at how strong you are and how you are not acting sick and weak like a preemie should. On the third morning, they tell us they are going to start treating you like a healthy baby instead of a sick baby. You finally get to stay in our room a few hours at a time, though they keep a scary looking IV in your head (you were strong enough to pull the one out of your hand twice) just in case you get weaker. You never do.

They insist on examining you and weighing you before every feeding. I tell them you are actually latching on and breast feeding on your own, though not for very long. They do not believe me and send someone to watch what we are doing. You have amazed them again. You get tired quickly, but your instincts are strong and true. You are breastfeeding on your own by your fourth day of life – something they said you couldn’t do for several weeks, if ever.

Finally, when you are five days old, they tell us we all get to go home together. Your dad and I have not been able to stop staring at you since we first met you and we are amazed every day that you really are here. We have decided that you have your dad’s lips and chin (with his cute little chin dimple) and my nose. I do not know where these beautiful eyes came from, but I swear I can fall into them forever.

You really are healthy and strong and beautiful. And we love you so much more than we ever thought it would be possible to love another human being. I hope you always, always know how very much we love you. I have a feeling words will never be enough to convey how much this is true.

Merry Christmas, my sweet angel baby. With every breath, I thank God for letting you be here and I know I must have done something very good in my life to deserve to have you in it.

Love,
-Mom-

And Now He's Three

My sweet little Fin is THREE!

I don't quite know where the time has gone, but the last three years just flew by so quickly. What have I been doing with my time?

We've been telling stories and reading books, pretending to be various characters and tickle monsters, building forts and "hospitals" out of couch cushions just to knock them down and giggle, having messy days and writing letters to penpals and ourselves, making wonderful creations out of playdoh and trying to keep Greta from eating it all, snuggling and cuddling and giving lots of kisses, "blowing" hugs and asking so many questions and learning and laughing all day long.

And he's just growing up to be the most amazing little boy. He's smart, he's sweet, he's inquisitive, he's impatient, he's silly, he's beautiful - and he's mine. And he's heard me say it, too. Every once in a while, he'll give me a great big hug and say, "You're MINE!".

This morning, he woke up, gave me a hug and announced, "I'm going to keep you for best forever!" The grammar is not quite there, but I definitely understand his sentiment.

And before I left for work this morning, he and Dave were drawing at the dining table. GaGa showed up and when she asked what he was drawing, he said as clear as day, "I'm drawing Mrs. Potato Head and Mr. Potato Head from Woody!" (Toy Story = Woody).

I got a little choked up and pointed out the Dave that he said PO-TA-TO instead of his usual "Ta-AY-To". Fin just laughed as said, "'Ta-ato?" That's silly! That doesn't sound like 'potato!'"

Yep, he's growing up so very quickly. I'm so blessed.

Finny and the Freckle

Last night as we were driving home from Gaga's house, I started asking Fin about the holidays coming up. I asked about his favorite things about Thanksgiving, Christmas, his upcoming birthday, etc.

Me: "What's your favorite thing about birthdays?"
Fin: "The cake!"
Me: "What's your favorite thing about Greta?"
Fin: "The... sister part!"
Me: "What's your favorite thing about Daddy?"
Fin: "The Daddy part!"
Me: "What's your favorite thing about Mommy?"
Fin: (silence) "Hmmm.... the freckle!"


Yes, this kid is still obsessed with two freckles I have on my chest. He discovered them while he was still nursing, but they became true comfort when he weaned. Now, whenever he is tired, sad, scared, hurt, whatever, he will ask, "Can I have the freckle?" Sometimes he'll just slide his hand right down my shirt without asking. This is how he falls asleep most nights.

I think it's awfully sweet, though I know it looks weird to anyone who doesn't know about the freckles and their exact locations. (I swear, they're not near the boobs.) But I was still surprised when they were his favorite thing about mommy. LOL Guess all those kisses and hugs don't add up to much without the freckle, huh?

Using Fin's Full Name

We went out to dinner with friends this weekend and I found myself using Fin's full name twice while out in public. As you probably know, anything that requires the middle name coming out is probably not a good thing...

All day on Saturday we told Fin that if he used the potty all day with no accidents, stopped whining, didn't yell, and got his feet out of his sister's face (among other things) he could have some lemon cake after dinner at Joe's BBQ. He did a pretty good job, so we got the cake when we got the food. Turns out the temptation was a bit too great for the poor kid.

Joe's is a restaurant that is great for the kiddos because they have a huge (fenced-in) yard for them to run wild while still being mostly captive. So when Fin kept getting up from his seat to walk around the table, it was no big deal and very appropriate for the setting. However, I kept an eye on him and he would inch ever-closer to the tantalizing cake. I kept returning him to his seat and telling him he had to actually eat some food before he could have the cake.

But we were there with a fairly large group, kids were running all around, there were balloon animals being made and popped, and I looked up just as Fin was digging both hands into the cake and lifting it off the plate. Before I knew it, guess what came out of my mouth.

"Finian Xavier, put down that cake and eat some dinner! Two bites of corn is not dinner!"

I couldn't believe how much of a mom I sounded like in that moment. Little did I know what was to come...

Fin eventually sat down, ate some dinner, enjoyed a few bites of cake and then ate some more dinner - then it was time to play! He happily ran around with his friends and played in the dirt. Dave decided to take Fin's balloon monkey out to the car so it didn't get popped and I visited with my friends while we watched the kids play.

I suddenly realized I couldn't see Fin and peered around the yard looking for him. I could not believe the sight that met my eyes.

Pants at his ankles, penis out, peeing in the grass mere feet from other dining families and kids running and playing.

Yep - the whole name came out in shock, then I was completely speechless and laughing. Unfortunately, I was holding Greta at the time so I didn't have a free hand to help him pull his pants back up. Dave appeared a moment later and grabbed Greta, but all the while Fin was just confused and saying, "Daddy lets me pee in the grass at home!"

Niiiice.

Obviously, we didn't take any pictures of that special moment in the night, but I did get a few good shots that evening.


Fin and his friend Will doing what boys do in the dirt.

All the mamas. L to R: Meredith, me and Greta, Claire, Robyn and Jenn. And Greta kept reaching over and groping Claire while we were trying to take this picture. LOL. Yep, my kids were all about being socially acceptable that evening. *snort*

Fin and Greta wrestling. She's little, but she can hold her own against Fin already!



A sweet moment with Daddy.


We will be having a big talk about appropriate places to use the bathroom before we go to Joe's again.

The Official Halloween Recap

We started the evening out over at PopPop Doug and Carol's house so the kids could go trick-or-treating with their uncle Liam. The boys had to investigate the pumpkin, of course.

Have you ever seen a cuter mouse and tiger?

The boys did great going to a few houses. They were very polite and both got a pretty reasonable stash of candy.

Neither Fin nor Greta looks especially happy in this picture, but it really was a fun night.

We headed over to GaGa's house for dinner and a little more trick-or treating later in the evening.

Some of her neighbors were having a block party in a cul-de-sac and Fin wanted to go check out the happenings. One house was a haunted house with a line down the driveway and around the corner - we didn't go in. They also had a live band of kids who were probably 10-13 years old and they were rocking out to Green Day, Nirvana, etc. They had a stage, lights, a projection TV with Halloween trivia on it, everything! It was pretty impressive.

As we approached the first house, the owners called out to Fin to let him know they were sitting in chairs at the end of the driveway. Fin said "Trick or Treat!" to the first man, thanked him for a couple of pieces of candy and then walked over to the woman sitting a couple of chairs away. She also gave him some candy and then Fin noticed the chair in the middle was empty.

So he just scooted himself into the chair and proceeded to watch the show for a few minutes.

GaGa and I were cracking up at how very cute he was. He never looked around to see if we were there; he just knew there was a show going on and he was going to sit down and check it out.

Too bad I didn't have the camera with me for that part of the night.