Monday, April 23, 2012
Abs of Steel
Several months ago, I began to notice an interesting habit from Charlie. Sometimes, in the morning or after his nap, I would find him in his crib lifting his legs in scissor position.
I thought nothing of our son's new exercise routine until one night, after dinner, when we were chilling out over a cartoon. I watched him, on the couch, do at least ten sets of five! No joke.
The kid might just have a six-pack by his third birthday.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
The First Sleepover...
...did not happen. But it was a good effort.
Madi had big plans for Charlie to sleepover in her bed.
We went out to dinner with Bubba and Grandpa on Saturday night.
She could hardly wait to get home, get bathed, and get into bed.
Charlie had "practiced" by napping in her room earlier that day. And the dry run had been a complete success.
But Charlie was a little fired up at bedtime. Madi read him some stories, and she was quite tired from all the planning.
We could hear them on the monitor. Well, we could mostly hear Madi on the monitor explaining to Charlie that it was time to go to sleep. Her directive was followed by many squeals and giggles coming from one little crazy boy.
The two emerged from the bedroom at around 8:30. Madi had finally conceded. But not without tears. She was heartbroken that Charlie wasn't ready.
We'll have plenty of time to try again...
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Easter
Apologies for my delay. I seem to be running behind these days.
Easter was a bit...how should I say it...
different this year.
Saturday night, we went to dinner at Bonefish Grill with Bubba and Grandpa. At the end of our meal, Bubba and Madi got up to go to the restroom. Shortly after they left, Madi returned to our table in a state of panic/confusion and said, "Bubba fell down!"
"What?" I replied in shock.
"Bubba fell down. She fell down. Come! Come!"
We were sick to our stomachs. Bubba had slipped on the floor and her head was bleeding. Someone called the paramedics, but being the strong (and stubborn--sorry Mom) woman that she is, she outright refused to go in an ambulance. We agreed to no ambulance on the condition that she agreed to go to the hospital.
On the way home to drop off Jimmy and Charlie, Madi pleaded her case that she wanted to go to the hospital, too. "But the Easter Bunny is coming tonight, Madi," I said.
She fell apart. "I don't want the Easter Bunny! I just want to be with Bubba!" she cried.
How could I possibly argue with that?
After four hours in the hospital, Bubba was finally discharged with 13 staples in the back of her head. Since they could not avoid snipping some of her hair, she insisted on wrapping her head in a bath towel. And for two days, it appeared as though she just came out of the shower.
On Easter Sunday, Madi and I were in the kitchen when we heard a terribly loud thud (and the sound banging glass) that came from our master bath. It was Jimmy. Evidently, he was cleaning the shower stall with the shower door open, and the floor got wet. Big mistake. He slipped and fell.
Jimmy quickly emerged from the bedroom with a towel held to his neck. I took one look at his laceration and said, "We're going to the hospital."
We called an injured Bubba (and Grandpa) to come to the house since Charlie was still asleep.
The situation wasn't really funny, but our nerves kicked in, and somehow the scene seemed comical to us at the time, so I snapped a picture for these two to remember. Madi was quick to point out that we were lucky this happened to them and not to Grandpa and me (the wimps).
Jimmy ended up with 11 stitches in his neck. We were in the exact same room in the E.R.!
So, this Easter, despite the circumstances, we are actually feeling quite blessed.
These two accidents could have been so. much. worse.
We now have two new nicknames in the family: Staples and Stitches
Easter was a bit...how should I say it...
different this year.
Saturday night, we went to dinner at Bonefish Grill with Bubba and Grandpa. At the end of our meal, Bubba and Madi got up to go to the restroom. Shortly after they left, Madi returned to our table in a state of panic/confusion and said, "Bubba fell down!"
"What?" I replied in shock.
"Bubba fell down. She fell down. Come! Come!"
We were sick to our stomachs. Bubba had slipped on the floor and her head was bleeding. Someone called the paramedics, but being the strong (and stubborn--sorry Mom) woman that she is, she outright refused to go in an ambulance. We agreed to no ambulance on the condition that she agreed to go to the hospital.
On the way home to drop off Jimmy and Charlie, Madi pleaded her case that she wanted to go to the hospital, too. "But the Easter Bunny is coming tonight, Madi," I said.
She fell apart. "I don't want the Easter Bunny! I just want to be with Bubba!" she cried.
How could I possibly argue with that?
After four hours in the hospital, Bubba was finally discharged with 13 staples in the back of her head. Since they could not avoid snipping some of her hair, she insisted on wrapping her head in a bath towel. And for two days, it appeared as though she just came out of the shower.
On Easter Sunday, Madi and I were in the kitchen when we heard a terribly loud thud (and the sound banging glass) that came from our master bath. It was Jimmy. Evidently, he was cleaning the shower stall with the shower door open, and the floor got wet. Big mistake. He slipped and fell.
Jimmy quickly emerged from the bedroom with a towel held to his neck. I took one look at his laceration and said, "We're going to the hospital."
We called an injured Bubba (and Grandpa) to come to the house since Charlie was still asleep.
The situation wasn't really funny, but our nerves kicked in, and somehow the scene seemed comical to us at the time, so I snapped a picture for these two to remember. Madi was quick to point out that we were lucky this happened to them and not to Grandpa and me (the wimps).
Jimmy ended up with 11 stitches in his neck. We were in the exact same room in the E.R.!
So, this Easter, despite the circumstances, we are actually feeling quite blessed.
These two accidents could have been so. much. worse.
We now have two new nicknames in the family: Staples and Stitches
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Holy Thursday
Last Thursday, Jimmy and I planned to attend evening Mass commemorating the Last Supper of Jesus with the Apostles, so we arranged to have Bubba and Grandpa watch the kids.
When I picked up Madi at school and told her of our plans, she insisted that she wanted to go with us to Mass. I replied (sadly, and without thinking), "Madi, don't you want to stay with Bubba and Grandpa? You'll have so much more fun! There's no fun to be had at Mass!"
Ugggh...what terrible words regretfully rolled off my tongue. In fact, the mother of a girlfriend overheard me, and chuckled at the absurdity of my response (I think). Was I crazy? Here my daughter was asking to attend Holy Thursday Mass with us, and I was trying to dissuade her???
May I please have a do-over?
I quickly realized how ridiculous I was being, and I began to explain to Madi what would take place that night. As I began to tell her about Jesus and the Last Supper and how they broke bread together, she said, "I know, I know, Mommy. I remember from the Christmas pageant." I was impressed that she remembered those details. But then she said something that was even more astounding to me.
"And then Jesus washed their feet."
"Madi, who told you that?" I asked. She firmly replied, "I remember from the pageant, Mommy. Jesus washed their feet!"
I knew, at that moment, that she needed to go to Mass with us. She obviously understood everything that took place, and I sensed that she would appreciate watching Monsignor Tom wash the feet of ten (male) parish members. It is one of the most beautiful services of the year.
Around the dinner table before Mass, we engaged in more discussion about Jesus washing the disciples feet when Madi asked us, "How do they pick the people whose feet will get washed at church?"
Jimmy said, "I think they know in advance who they're going to pick, Madi."
And then, I piped up and said, "Oh, I beg to differ. I think the Holy Spirit tells them who to choose."
We got dressed and promptly headed out the door. Madi insisted that we sit up front so that we could see everything. We first sat down in a pew on the left side of the church, but little Missy wasn't quite satisfied with our viewing angle, so we got up to move. As Madi and I headed for a center aisle, Daddy chose to go to the back of the church and walked around to meet us.
It was then that he was approached and asked if he would have his feet washed!
It brought tears to my eyes how the events of the day had unfolded and now Madi was there to witness her Daddy having his feet washed just like one of the Apostles.
The Holy Spirit, indeed...
Happy Easter everyone!
When I picked up Madi at school and told her of our plans, she insisted that she wanted to go with us to Mass. I replied (sadly, and without thinking), "Madi, don't you want to stay with Bubba and Grandpa? You'll have so much more fun! There's no fun to be had at Mass!"
Ugggh...what terrible words regretfully rolled off my tongue. In fact, the mother of a girlfriend overheard me, and chuckled at the absurdity of my response (I think). Was I crazy? Here my daughter was asking to attend Holy Thursday Mass with us, and I was trying to dissuade her???
May I please have a do-over?
I quickly realized how ridiculous I was being, and I began to explain to Madi what would take place that night. As I began to tell her about Jesus and the Last Supper and how they broke bread together, she said, "I know, I know, Mommy. I remember from the Christmas pageant." I was impressed that she remembered those details. But then she said something that was even more astounding to me.
"And then Jesus washed their feet."
"Madi, who told you that?" I asked. She firmly replied, "I remember from the pageant, Mommy. Jesus washed their feet!"
I knew, at that moment, that she needed to go to Mass with us. She obviously understood everything that took place, and I sensed that she would appreciate watching Monsignor Tom wash the feet of ten (male) parish members. It is one of the most beautiful services of the year.
Around the dinner table before Mass, we engaged in more discussion about Jesus washing the disciples feet when Madi asked us, "How do they pick the people whose feet will get washed at church?"
Jimmy said, "I think they know in advance who they're going to pick, Madi."
And then, I piped up and said, "Oh, I beg to differ. I think the Holy Spirit tells them who to choose."
We got dressed and promptly headed out the door. Madi insisted that we sit up front so that we could see everything. We first sat down in a pew on the left side of the church, but little Missy wasn't quite satisfied with our viewing angle, so we got up to move. As Madi and I headed for a center aisle, Daddy chose to go to the back of the church and walked around to meet us.
It was then that he was approached and asked if he would have his feet washed!
It brought tears to my eyes how the events of the day had unfolded and now Madi was there to witness her Daddy having his feet washed just like one of the Apostles.
The Holy Spirit, indeed...
Happy Easter everyone!
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Run to me.
On the few occasions that Charlie's been (slightly) injured lately--like hurt enough to cry--I noticed that he instantly looks around for his blanket.
And it hits this Mommy right where it hurts.
Because I want him to run to me.
Not to his blanket. Not to his two middle fingers that have soothed him for his first two years of life.
To me.
I want to be his first choice for comfort, because I want our son to feel that--beyond any other place--he is totally secure in his Mommy's arms.
And that he is truly loved. I want him to run to me without hesitation, and without fail.
Charlie's been home for a year now, and while that may seem like a long time to some, we know there's still much bonding to be done.
After all, he was in the care of an institution longer than he's been in our family.
I guess one could say that right now I'm a bit hyper-sensitive to his self-soothing behavior. So the second that something happens, and I see Charlie scan the room for his blankie, I will be right there to scoop him up.
And hold him.
And kiss him.
And hug him.
And make his boo-boo all better.
And I won't let him go until I know that he gets it. Over and over again.
I pray that one day soon, I'll be able to report that he ran to me...first.
And it hits this Mommy right where it hurts.
Because I want him to run to me.
Not to his blanket. Not to his two middle fingers that have soothed him for his first two years of life.
To me.
I want to be his first choice for comfort, because I want our son to feel that--beyond any other place--he is totally secure in his Mommy's arms.
And that he is truly loved. I want him to run to me without hesitation, and without fail.
Charlie's been home for a year now, and while that may seem like a long time to some, we know there's still much bonding to be done.
After all, he was in the care of an institution longer than he's been in our family.
I guess one could say that right now I'm a bit hyper-sensitive to his self-soothing behavior. So the second that something happens, and I see Charlie scan the room for his blankie, I will be right there to scoop him up.
And hold him.
And kiss him.
And hug him.
And make his boo-boo all better.
And I won't let him go until I know that he gets it. Over and over again.
I pray that one day soon, I'll be able to report that he ran to me...first.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Egg Hunt
We went to Charlie's first "real" egg hunt with his little buddies from our SVF church playgroup on Friday. Thanks to the generous spread from our kind hostess, Jen, the mommies enjoyed the fun as much as the children!
Of course, when Madi returned from school, she totally raided his basket and emptied all of his eggs. She also insisted that (for a solid hour) we take turns hiding the empty eggs in the backyard so Charlie could totally get the hang of it! She did the same thing with Daniel:)
Of course, when Madi returned from school, she totally raided his basket and emptied all of his eggs. She also insisted that (for a solid hour) we take turns hiding the empty eggs in the backyard so Charlie could totally get the hang of it! She did the same thing with Daniel:)
He had no idea how much fun was in store. |
Easter monkey found in a tree! |
Charlie and his girlfriend |
Charlie and his buddy |
Out cold. Way too much fun:) |
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