Will you be my Valentine?

Found this idea on Pinterest.  Have your kid pose like this--add a message.  Use a hole punch to make two holes around his or her hand, and slide in a lollipop.  Super cheap and super cute.

 Tommy's not in school yet, but he didn't want to be left out, so we ordered a few for him to make and send out to family.

 Somebody turned 43.  (Not me!)

 Easter--was a blustery day, so we had an indoor egg hunt.  It was still super fun!

 Tommy enjoying his haul.

 

And after Easter dinner, we came home to find Grandma Deb and Glenn leaving presents for the kids.  This, of course, led to a visit!

My children are loved by so many people; we are so fortunate.

 It's never too cold to go to the park!

 The kids wanted "a new park we've never been to".  So we found one.

 I think they had fun?

The three amigos.

Ch-ch-ch changes.

I don't even know where to begin! 

It is, by nature, a crazy time of year for me--election season.  As the county's Democratic leader, I have a pretty big job each fall--to help my candidates get elected.  Balancing that with a busy law office, a working husband, and three toddlers is no easy feat.

We try to find time each day to be crafty.

 

 And, if there wasn't enough chaos, we just listed our house for sale...because a house with three toddlers is so easily show-ready.

It all came about when a realtor-friend had a buyer who wanted a historic house--they knew we were looking to move in the not so distant future, and they called to see if we would mind if the buyers did a drive by.  The drive by was followed by one hour-long showing, and when they wanted another showing we figured we needed to see what was out there, to avoid homelessness after our sale.  And we found, pretty much, the perfect house.  And then the buyers put in an offer on the smaller Victorian, and not ours.  So, Wes and I brought the family to see the house and it was perfect.  Perfect enough to try to buy.  So we put in an offer contingent on our sale and they said YES.

So, it's been hyper-speed here trying to make our house show-ready so that we can lose our shirts on this sale and hopefully not have to bring money to the closing sell quickly.

Meanwhile, Tommy has decided to dress as a drag queen for Halloween.

 Dani is rocking Pre-K.  Got her standardized assessments today, and she is in the 99th percentile for everything.  (She was born 8 days too late to start pre-k last year....school district doesn't budge on that.)

 We are still doing a really good job at family dinners, and family time.  We have three little conversational people and it's starting to be a lot of fun.

I just need more hours in the day.

Happy Anniversary, my love.

 I met you at 17.  I was a small-town kid, in a big city, going to college in your home town of Chicago.  We were student athletes, running into each other in the Fieldhouse.  My freshman year, we both lived in Woodward Court--you were a friendly face when we moved in after living in the sports dorms.  We were both work study kids--and we had jobs at the Fieldhouse/gym.  You were a supervisor, and I checked IDs when people came in.  It was 1991.  I worked until midnight, and would walk home alone after work, because there were streetlights and sidewalks, so I was safe, right?  At some point my first year, a woman was taken (kidnapped seems like too dramatic a term) in the evening, in the proximity of my walk home.  My next night at work following that event, you showed up to walk me home.  I insisted that I didn't need help and could do it alone.  You showed up at the Fieldhouse at the end of all my shifts to walk me home.

At some point, you kissed me.

We dated.  We loved with all the fervor of young adults, squeezing into my dorm room's twin bed for the night, playing songs, madly in love.  You were my date to my sorority formal.  I always felt like I never quite good enough in those sorority days....my sorority sisters all had more money, nicer clothes, were thinner/prettier than me, etc., and you knew how I felt.  Like me, you were a kid with parents who worked for living--who were sacrificing to send us to college.  I remember at that formal, our Rose Ball, at the Hotel Intercontinental downtown, we stood on a balcony and you told me...something along the lines of me often comparing myself to my sisters....and that on that night, I had them all beat.  You made me feel like the prettiest girl at the ball.

 

And, we dated.  At some point that year, we stopped dating.  That was all me.  I remember agonizing over my decision to my best friend Gina, telling her that you were the kind of guy I wanted to marry, but that at 18, I needed to see what was out there.  So we broke up.  And you were wonderful.  And so began a epic friendship that would span hundreds of miles and committed relationships.

I eventually moved back to New York.  You would visit every year, on your way to see family in Connecticut.  We would write letters, talk on the phone, and stay in touch, never mentioning whether or when we had significant others of our own.

And then there was the visit in 2002.  You and a few friends from college were supposed to come...only they didn't, and you did.  It was just you and me for a weekend, all alone as adults, spending time together.  And you kissed me.

We decided that weekend, that despite the fact that you were in Michigan and I in New York, that we would date exclusively.  I planned flights and you planned road trips.  We talked every day.  During one trip you gave me a ring, and announced you would move to New York.  You didn't tell me how much you were sacrificing career-wise to come.  But you came.  When you proposed, I questioned you...were you sure...I declared that I never wanted to have children, and that you needed to be a dad.  You chose me over fatherhood.

You came to New York, and we married in Las Vegas.

When you moved, you brought lots of things.  Among those things were all the letters and cards I sent you since we parted ways.  I read them--and it was an awakening--my letters to you were so affectionate, so caring, that I realized that you had always held such a special place in my heart, even when I didn't know it.

And then, one day, I wanted to start a family. I was the woman who professed I would never want to, and you loved me anyway.  I've always described that awakening in me as once the pieces of your life fit together so well, and you love someone so much, you want to expand that love.  And so we did.

Dani, Tori, and Tommy.  I can't imagine life without them, or you.

I know that when we said our vows, we pledged for better or for worse.

I recognize, sometimes, perhaps even often, I test that vow.

There is no me, without you.

You are the rock that holds our family together.  I'm the silly string that makes it a fun mess.

You have encouraged and supported me to achieve my goals, at the sacrifice of our time together.  You are the best father I could have envisioned for my children.

You are the most patient and loving husband I could ask for.

You are my best friend, my confidant, my love.

It's been nine years on paper, but two decades in my heart.

Happy Anniversary, my love.



Little Dude turned two.

 Tommy turned 2 on the 16th...good thing he doesn't know his dates, because we had cake on Saturday.  Grandma and Grandpa sent presents for all the kiddos, and fun was had.  Probably our last birthday without a kid demanding a party.

And what to say about this little tyke?  T is for Tommy and for Temper and for Tantrum.  He is Mister If I don't get my way I will scream until you give in.

He's also destined to be the class clown, amusing his sisters at every turn with silly faces and gestures.

He's the daredevil.  The only kid we've really seen bleed.  Because when you are jumping off of everything, and getting in to it all, you are bound to get a little banged up.

He likes to announce "HAND" as he extends his so that he can lead you where he wants to go, which is, most often, to the kitchen for cookies. 

Amazingly agile, he could climb the stairs like a big boy months ago.  He's our little mimic, repeating everything the girls say.  Tonight at dinner it was "Chuck E Cheese" over and over in varying voices to Dani and Tori's delight. 

He is, by far, the best snuggler of the three.  When you pick him up, he wraps his arms around your neck and places his head on that sweet spot on your shoulder made for baby heads and just snuggles.

He is love.  He is energy.  He is chaos.  He is our Tom Tom.

 And he loves his sisters.  "DANEEE. TOWEEE" he calls, often when they sneak away to do something else.

 

 We went to Animal Land a week ago.  Tommy had no fear.  He touched every animal he could, feeding them, petting them, and at one point, picking up a huge piece of deer poop that we thought was a rock.....ugh.

 He's game for rides, and whatever his sisters have in store for fun.

 On the safari ride, one camel followed us, and was fixated on Tommy.  All I could think was "please don't bite my kid's face off", but the camel walked along us, sticking with Tommy as he petted her nose and said hello.

 And then, of course there was some cake.  Dani helped me bake it.  What a difference a year makes.  He wanted a fork, he always wants a fork because his sisters use one.

He's an amazing boy, our little Tommy.  No doubt, because he has grown up with two smart, older sisters, his vocabulary at his age is amazing.  He's the king of the funny face, and without a doubt makes Wes and I laugh at least once per dinner.  He's our little fireball, and I love him to bits.  Happy Birthday Tommy!

 

And, before I forget to add some of the recent fun things the kids have said.....

We've had a bunch of work done in our house recently, and I was somewhat friendly with the contractor beforehand...so that meant that he shared a number of meals with the family.  One day, his car broke down and he took a cab to our house.  We would routinely bring him home.  On day three of no car, he mentioned at dinner, "I just feel naked without my car."  Dani leaned over to me and said loudly, "Why does Mr. M think he doesn't have any clothes on?  He's wearing clothes!".  I looked at Wes, perplexed (probably because we weren't paying too much attention to Mr. M), but Mr. M caught on--and pointed out to us what she meant so we could explain.

 

In other news, and funnies, Dani is starting Pre-K next week.  We received a packet in the mail two weeks ago with information from the teacher, and which advised us of the dress code:  solid color collared shirts and pants/shorts/skirts in designated colors.  Reading it, I explain to Dani that she will need to wear solid shirts to school.  She looked both disappointed and perplexed.  "Mommy, will the shirts be hard?", she asked.  I looked at her, not having a clue...and asked what she meant.  "Mommy, solids are hard...you know that," she said.  There has been some talk of liquids and solids with water and ice cubes, but it's easy to forget how literally words can be taken.  Ice cubes are solids, and they are hard, so wouldn't the shirt be hard too?

 

These kids, all amazing in so many ways, but I feel like I'm leaving Tori out.  Perfectly potty trained, she's been accident free and wearing underwear to bed for about 6 months...amazing.  At newly 3, she can write most of her letters, as she showed me with chalk on the sidewalk yesterday.

 

They are amazing little peeps, my kiddos!

With a love like that, you know you should be GLAD!

It's full-on Beatlemania in our house.  Well, for the toddlers.  Big Man's been playing a lot of the Beatles for Dani and Tori.  And Dani wants to torture me is happily singing the songs.  It's pretty adorable to here her version of things.  Like, "It's been a hard day and night, and I've been working like a dog."  It's really pretty cute.  And, she's Paul, Tori's Ringo, Big Man is George, and I'm John, apparently.  Tommy, he's Pete Best or something, but he can hum the tunes too.

 It's been a week of interesting Dani-isms.

Tonight was the one that made me realize that my daughter knows how to completely maniuplate me I've been working a bit too much, "Mommy, I had a bad dream last night.  You went to work and never came home again.  Ever. It was really scary."

 The other night we were watching a bedtime show, and Dani informs me, "Mommy, that's a Sphynx.  Those are with the pyramids in Egypt."  After I scooped my jaw off of the floor, I gave her a hug and told her she was a smart little girl.  She replied, "I'm smart, because I have a smart family."

She's been really into letting us know just how smart she is lately.   Two nights ago at dinner, she asked me about people who hunt cavemen, and whether they would hunt us too.  After a brief explanation of there being no cavemen presently, she tells me, "Mommy, I'm smart.  I know everything.  Well, maybe not everything.  But a lot."

 

We took a potty break where I was informed that, "Mommy, my poop is bigger than the universe."

 And later the same evening, when Dani was again professing her wisdom, I talked to her about it.  I told her that it was wonderful that she is so smart, but that she also needs to be humble.  That when she goes to pre-k in the fall, there will be kids who don't know how to say the alphabet, much less identify the letters and sounds, that some won't know their colors, that she will probably know more things than many of the other children.  We talked about how everyone has different skills, and knows different things, and that she needs to remember that everyone has to learn together, even if it means going a little more slowly than she would like to.  She replied, "Mommy, if they don't know things that I do, can I help teach them?" 

And we went to the park, and Tori and Tommy were adorable and all those good things too.  Tommy can now climb up and down the stairs (and my lower back thanks him for that).  Tori is flirting with being potty trained, and all is well.

I went for an annual physical, and to my surprise, I'm doing okay.  Like off the charts good.  Literally, when the doc was reviewing my blood work, he was commenting that it's incredibly rare to have the good cholesterol number higher than the bad (which mine was, with a rockin' low 144 total cholesterol) and that the labs were great.  My blood pressure is amazing, and apparently I'm going to live another year.  Literally he was so nice about it--I was like, hey doc, do you think they mixed up the vials?  I'm glad to know I'm so healthy for being a fat sedentary slug.  I asked him if that meant I could grab a whopper on the way back to work, and he said it was fine.  I'm guessing that somewhere, some poor, fit soul, is being told by their doc that they have the cholesterol and organ function of a nearly 40, overweight, overstressed mom of 3.

Hopefully over the rough patch.

We've had a rough couple of days. Dani's been fussy and miserable and not sleeping and screeching and crying and driving mommy insane. In fact, mommy has been fussy and miserable and not sleeping and crying too, probably because she's not sleeping.

We learned a lot of things about babies in the last few days. Some of these things came from the book, Happiest Baby on the Block, graciously sent to me by my Uncle John and Aunt Beth, and some things from our local grandma emeritus Debi.

Things we were doing wrong:

1. feeding the baby lying down--using the positions learned from the breasfeeding nazi at the hospital, despite the fact we were using a bottle (which introduces air to the process).

2. not taking a burp break during a feeding.

3. not being diligent in making sure that she burps enough after a feeding, ie giving up too soon, and probably leaving little gas bubbles in her tummy (ouchie!).

4. immediately laying her down to change her diaper after feeding, again, not enough vertical-ish time.5. not noticing that she was sucking pretty hard on the newborn flow nipples and probably getting frustrated...it says it is for newborns, and the next size is for one month plus so it never occurred to me to change. She got a little blister on her lip yesterday from the newborn nipple, and so I upgraded the size this morning (2 weeks early!) and boy did she have an easier time.

Happier baby = happier mommy. Happier mommy = happier daddy.

We also had a bath with lots of water in it, because baby is sans umbilical cord--she actually seemed to enjoy it!

She was perky and playful this afternoon, which was fun! She had her first round of tummy time, and enjoyed it. In fact, she lifted her head and turned it from one side to the other so she could look around! Not bad for 13 days old!