AnotherSunrise

One of Many Reasons I Love my Redding

2010-03-04T20:34:56Z

When I went to get Red from his nap this afternoon he points to a book he was looking at and says, "What is Leo doing?" I think he was being obtusely instructive, as we frequently are. He'll ask a question and we'll put it back to him, "Well, what do you think?"

So I said, "Looks like he's making something."

Redding says, "Yes, he baked a cake. We can bake a cake. We'd be just like Leo."

Seriously? With a lead-in like that? How could I ever say no?

I asked, "What kind of cake would you like to bake?"

After a little consideration, he replied, "Orange."

Thinking to myself that I can not make an orange cake, mostly because I've been out of red food coloring since Andrew requested a red velvet birthday cake, LIKE TWO YEARS AGO... I have some kind of mental block about picking up food coloring of any variety, but especially red. OK?

I said, "I don't think I have a recipe for that. There are lots of different kinds of cakes I do have recipes for chocolate, yellow, spice cake, gingerbread, pumpkin, even coffee cake."

He picked coffee cake. Then he got giddier and giddier as he asked me what we'd put in it and I listed off the potential ingredients.

The boy is deliriously happy. I love it. As someone how genuinely enjoys baking, not just for the end product, but just because it is a little bit magic, I can't tell you how pleased I am that he is so interested.

The funny thing is? He probably won't eat coffee cake, or any other kind of cake. He doesn't like bread, most crackers, eats only the frosting off of cupcakes, won't touch the chocolate chip or pumpkin muffins I make all the time...

He is an interesting child, but he's all mine and I couldn't possibly love him any more.

Buying A Crib

2010-03-01T18:29:26Z

Once upon a time, Andrew and I had a baby. The baby was so early that Andrew and I had purchased exactly nothing. Not a single item. When you have a baby that is born 14 weeks early, you also tend not to give a whole lot of thought to purchasing things while they are in the hospital fighting for their lives.

Nope.

So, when we finally got around to buying a crib, it was maybe a few weeks before Annabella would be coming home. We had been gathering tidbits from other parents, magazines, websites, nurses, and doctors about what we needed. Then the deciding factor: The neonatologist, Dr. Sunshine told us that we better get our act together because before long, our girl would be home.

When you go to buy a crib, be sure to give yourself 6 - 8 weeks lead time for delivery of the crib. When you don't have that kind of lead time, you find a specialty baby store with cribs in stock. These stores can be very hard to find, but they are out there.

Why, oh why, am I writing about a crib? Because the crib that we finally selected is now completing its circle of life, as Annabella's bed frame.

Yes, once our beautiful girl was done with the crib, and toddler bed, we moved her brother into the crib. Now that he is done with the toddler bed, Annabella gets a beautiful big girl bed, as she puts it.

In all seriousness, buying the convertible crib was the best furniture decision we've ever made. I highly recommend it.

Lacking

2010-02-27T01:29:11Z

My blogging has been sporadic at best. I realize that.

Great Day

2010-02-11T01:48:45Z

Almost by sheer force of will, it was a fantastic day today. Annabella was back at school. Redding had a great time at the Y. I got to go to yoga. We even made some yummy minty cookies to decorate. All good stuff.

Realizing that I haven't put up any new pictures lately, I had to come up with a post today, just to get this one up.

I freakin' love my kids.

Out of the Mouths of Moms

2010-02-09T16:12:53Z

The last week has presented certain challenges. There's the trauma of having a child hospitalized. There's the lack of sleep for worrying and cries of, "Mom!" in the night. There's the constant nagging to get fluids into your child.

All that. But none of those begins to touch on the challenges faced by Redding. First, his sister gets loads of attention. She's got mom and dad following her around with bowls, towels, cool cloths for her head... Loads of medicine and tons of sippees of juice, ice water, Gatorade, Pedialyte, anything she will drink. Redding wants a bowl for in his bed. He wants "puffers" like Annabella's. He wants a sippee, which thankfully he can have. He wants whatever she is getting.

So Friday morning, I called the grandparents to enlist assistance in watching Red while I took Annabella to the pediatrician. Poppa was at our house a few hours later and Bel and I were off. Red wanted to see the doctor. I figure, why take a healthy child into the waiting room full of miserable illness?

The doctor briefly examined my normally perky girl. Based on her coloring, lethargy, tender abdomen and the fact that she hadn't kept much down in 2 days, she sent us to the hospital for IV fluids to treat severe dehydration.

So, we stopped home to pick up some necessities. Poppa was out shoveling the driveway and Red was out with him, playing on a sled. I was already weepy over putting Bel into the hospital. I was overwhelmed with gratitude to find Red happy as a clam and my driveway being cleared. Then I had to humbly ask what he had planned for the rest of the afternoon, as I had to go put my girl... And the tears flowed.

Redding winds up spending the rest of the day with Poppa and Gragra at our house, then going to their house for dinner and a sleepover. He gets all the attention of two very doting grandparents. But there's a problem. He doesn't understand why Sissy gets to go to the doctor, to the hospital, gets medicine, etc. Poor guy. Plus he's missing Annabella, Mom and Dad. Poor, poor sweet boy.

Saturday evening Annabella got to come home, but wasn't very interactive with Red. Still she's getting lots of attention and fussing over. Medicine, puffers, all that jazz.

Sunday night at dinner we were discussing how he'd been saying things all weekend like, "I hurt myself, I need to go to the hospital." And, forced, fake cough, cough "I'm sick, I need a puffer."

Annabella hops up from the dinner table with a panicked look on her face, shouting, "I have to go potty, NOW!" She races to the bathroom.

Redding is hot on her heels, "Oh! I have to go potty now, too!" Which is funny because he's not potty trained. He feels using the potty once a day before nap is plenty.

Someone commented that he just wants to have and do everything just like his big sister.

I replied, "Yeah, won't he be surprised when he gets his first period."

Soccer Mom

2010-02-02T18:31:07Z

I just signed Annabella up for a short 3 week soccer clinic. If it goes well, she will join a local U8 soccer team and play a season from the end of April through the end of June. There are two evenings a week, one for practice, one for a game.

You may be witnessing the birth of a soccer mom. Now, will I have to trade in my (RECALLED!?!?!!!) Matrix for a minivan?

Warning! Dirty Diaper Story! OotMoB

2010-01-27T18:53:23Z

I was just changing Redding before he goes down for a nap.

He informs me, as I open his diaper, "There's a lot of poops."

"Yes," I tell him, "yes there are."

Redding loves this line of conversation. "Poop comes out my penis."

As I have told him many times, "No, poop comes out the back here, by your buns." Because I am that person, OK? I just don't need to get into anatomy lessons with a two year old. Not really. No. Not so much.

"From my angus?" Redding prompts me.

"Yes. You are correct." Pronunciation? Not corrected. Where he got this information? A mystery almost as silly as hearing my little boy tell me that his poop comes out his angus.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

2010-01-23T21:27:48Z

So, we're sitting there, having some lunch today. The whole gang of us.

Annabella slammed most of her lunch, then asked for another hot dog. Once she got it, the whole tone of lunch changed.

She grasped it firmly by one end. She then extended her arm out over the table. "Guess what this means?"

To which I clasped my hand over my mouth, not wanting to hazard a guess.

"It means yes. And this," she exclaimed, turning it downward, "means no."

Generally Andrew and I murmured something to the affirmative, but avoided each other's eyes. Once I did make eye contact with Andrew, I couldn't help but stifle a giggle.

Giggling in the 6 year old vernacular means "please do that again and again, ad nauseum." That had to be avoided at all costs.

Once I looked back at Annabella I found myself saying, without even having to think first, "Please stop rubbing that on your face."

To which, she quickly held it out toward me and pronounced, "It doesn't even hurt!"

Annabella Talk

2010-01-20T23:03:24Z

Me: Annabella, how was your day today?

Bel: Great. Sheldon [If you need someone to do your taxes, Sheldon's your guy.] gave me a starburst.
Me: At lunch?
Bel: No, I did eat all my red peppers at lunch though.
Me: You got red bell peppers in your school PB&J lunch?
Bel: Yes. And the starburst was red, too.
Me: OK, so you ate that after you had lunch?
Bel: No, he gave it to me on the playground and no one even noticed. Isn't that great?
(My daughter is sneaking candy on the playground, better yet she's doing sneaky things on the playground, with a BOY. Alarm, alarm, danger Will Robinson.)
Me: That's really interesting.
Bel: And I game my neighbor Dion [also a boy] a quarter.
Me: Why did you do that, did he ask?
Bel: No, I just though he'd like that.
(Awesome, so she's being sneaky with one boy and slipping another one money for no reason. FANTASTIC!)

What's That Noise?

2010-01-20T14:04:18Z

I swore I'd never be that parent that needed to force their child into silence when they were crying. Bullying, cajoling, forcing, somehow, that child to stop their fit, silence their sobs, and cease the waterworks.

Certainly, I'd never intimidate them through gritted teeth, telling them, "Stop your crying or I'll give you something to cry about!"

Yet there are moments. Little pieces of time when the whole infinite universe shrinks down to that one tiny voice in the dark. And the noise coming out of them? Well it just makes my head crawl and my teeth clench, and every nerve in my body shrieks, "MAKE THAT CHILD STOP MAKING THAT NOISE!!!"

That's when mommy needs a time out. I look away, take a breath, go to another room, say calmly, "That's enough. Pull yourself together, or..." whatever fun thing we had planned will no longer be happening.

Yep. Means be damned, I'm that mom.

Crap.

A New Movie or Tween Novel?

2010-01-10T14:18:10Z

As many of you know, I am particularly attuned to my dreams. I don't often remember them, but when I do I analyze them, share them, and generally act like a nut.

This morning the kids let me sleep until 7:40 a.m.! A shockingly late morning for us. Woo hoo! The greatest bonus was this dream:

I dreamed about a group of kids, a family with 3 or 4 kids. The eldest boy was going to be a senior in high school and he wanted to be student body president in the fall. It being Spring, everything was melting and green grass was peeking out. Lots of kids on bikes and his younger siblings were going to help him reach his dream.

One of the ways they help him is by campaigning at the youngest boys junior high school. The soon-to-be freshmen go nuts over the eldest boy's campaigning and soon are following him around cheering.

Soon after the competition spies what is going on and comes over to confront the eldest sister (who is going to be a sophomore) about such juvenile tactics. She is seen holding a bottle with a clear, semi-viscous liquid in it. She tilts it back and forth wonderingly, with an evil glint in her eye. As the competition approaches, taunting her about her brother, she offers him a cup.

Suddenly he is stuck by her beauty and wonders why he never noticed her before. He begins flirting furiously. She puts the bottle aside announcing, "you'll have to give it a try tomorrow..." and the camera pans to the rest of the siblings walking home from a victorious day of campaigning.

As they walk down the street giddy and boisterously discussing their huge success, they somehow neglect to notice that everyone around them is turning into strange frog faced, zoot suit wearing animated characters. The frogs chase each other, sing, dance, twirl multi-colored gummy worm watch fobs to accentuate their every phrase.

There's a little more, which is a bit more disjointed. A "Rat Pack" bunch of zoot suit frogs, singing, with someone sharp-shooting them with popcorn. The competition gets home and asks if there was a package delivered for him. Something very funky, from a pal named (of all things) Diddy. Some strange interlude with the Price Is Right, about the big wheel spin going up to $10 due to inflation.

I can't believe how much of the dream I remember. It was wild.

I'm beginning to think I need to put aside at least one evening a week to write and work on my stories.

Red-isms

2010-01-06T03:27:50Z

"Dee-wishes"
If it tastes good

"Fan-TAS-tic"
If he really likes it

"Hhh-wank you"
If he is grateful

" 's fragile"
If he's not allowed to handle it

" 's from the library"
If he's really, really not allowed to touch it (he destroyed a dvd box from the library, now is allowed to borrow them, but not allowed to carry around the boxes)

"my dipey's just fine"
If his diaper is, in fact, dirty, but he's not willing to stop what he's doing to let you change it

"I need to pee pee the potty"
If he's trying to stall at nap time, but sometimes he manages to actually go

"Bye MomMom, have fun!"
If he's really happy to be going to Kid Stuff at the Y

"I-i-i-i-i-i-i GOT you MomMom!"
If I'm making dinner and he wants to play with me, accompanied by an all out run and two handed push

"You can't get me!"
Come and get me!

"I hiding!"
He shouts with his head down behind the back pillows of the couch and his buns sticking out, my little ostrich knows that this is maybe his most adorable stalling tactic yet

"We need more spare-gus. You want more brumble sprouts?"
How he charms me and all the grandmother types at the grocery store

"lovey"
Really old, well loved cloth diaper

"Sissy"
That would be Annabella

"Dada got a dirty dipe? No! Mama got a dirty dipe? No! Sissy got a dirty dipe?"
A game played around the dinner table

I love this kid. He's got a million of them. He's got enough personality and opinions for three children. How lucky am I?

Recess

2009-12-27T18:22:11Z

One of the things that I looked at when we wanted to move Annabella to a different school was recess. I know that a number of people thought this was a funny priority. My other priorities were things like art and music. I would love for Annabella to be in a school with a drama program as well. But, given dwindling budgets, the current moil of our present school district, and everything else, I was happy to find a school that offered 2 recesses in the Fall and occasionally through the year, during prep para time, as well as art, music, and an enrichment program for gifted students.

Now, my quest for recess is vindicated by Harvard! Check it out!

Now it is time for us to reapply for our indistrict transfer that allows Annabella to attend a better school, closer to our home, with more recess time, more art, and music. Unfortunately, because the district is losing students, there are school closings. One of which will add as many as 70 students to the school Annabella is currently attending. That means that once we get our yearly paperwork in for the indistrict transfer, this year there will be a LOTTERY. A lottery, only those who have previously had an indistrict transfer to the school will be eligible, to determine who gets to attend.

Priceless.

Now, we received a letter stating that per the most recent attendance area redraw Annabella will have to return to the school she attended for Kindergarten. I think not. So we fill out the paperwork for the indistrict transfer, which asks us to list our TOP 4 choices. Seriously? Yes.

Now, there are other schools in our district on par with the one Annabella attended this year. They are a little farther away, we don't know any neighbor children who attend them, and that would mean 3 elementary schools in 3 years. All while we live in the same house. I was moved a number of times as a kid, but this is ridiculous.

What length will we go to to get her, or keep her, in a good school?

Memories

2009-12-22T21:00:21Z

Today I went to the Y, to try and stave off some of the debilitating damage I'm doing to myself with food, in the holiday spirit.

After a brisk 40 minutes on the treadmill, I figured I could just 'relax' on a recumbent bike for another half hour or so and read. After a few minutes two repair guys showed up and started working on the bike next to me. Normally, I wouldn't pay any attention, but I had to look up to figure out where the smell was coming from. Old Spice. None of the new flavors they are selling, either. Old school, original Old Spice. How can I be sure? Because the minute I caught a whiff, clear as day I had an image of my Poppop sitting in a red chair. His big hands resting on the arms as he waited patiently for me to finish cooking him something in my little red toy aluminum frying pan. I was cooking on the matching easy chair next to the one he was sitting on. I couldn't have been more than 6 and was probably more like 4.

A little holiday gift, that memory. Made me feel warm, loved. Writing about it makes me misty eyed.

Here he is, I think he just got back from taking Eric camping in Yosemite, and panning for gold. Or that's how I remember it. I am the grumpy looking one, probably because I did not go camping.

A Whole New World

2009-12-22T18:57:02Z

Seriously, the boy is growing up before my very eyes.

He just pooped on the potty. He asked to go. He went.

Yeah Red!