I hope that this holiday finds everyone healthy and happy and with the ones that they love the most--their horrible families. Just kidding, family is wonderful. Especially family that has a great sense of humor and cooking skills, like mine.
Jack is celebrating his first cognitive Christmas this year--he has become well aware of the omniscient Santa Claus and even the religious significance of the holiday. On the way home from school he wanted to discuss his limited knowledge: "Christmas is when God's baby was born. What was that baby's name?" So I had to draw on my years of Sunday school instruction to explain the miracle of Christmas, and how Jesus changed the world. We aren't a particularly religious family, but I'd like to think that we are very spiritual, and I really wanted to impart the spirit of Christmas to this child, and explain to him that people are willing to make sacrifices to help others, and that we should feel blessed to have the opportunity to do that in our lives. Especially with younger siblings.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
End of the day
Dan: It's time for bed.
Jack: I need to stay up for a few huge minutes.
Dan: Uh, no.
Jack: BUT I'M TIRED! I mean, I'M NOT TIRED!
Dan: That right there is why you need to go to bed.
Jack, whining: I need to write a book!
Dan, getting angry: We can do that tomorrow. Chapter 1: My Dad was a huge dick.
Jack: I don't want a huge dick!
Jack: I need to stay up for a few huge minutes.
Dan: Uh, no.
Jack: BUT I'M TIRED! I mean, I'M NOT TIRED!
Dan: That right there is why you need to go to bed.
Jack, whining: I need to write a book!
Dan, getting angry: We can do that tomorrow. Chapter 1: My Dad was a huge dick.
Jack: I don't want a huge dick!
Overheard (at 8am)
Dan: Jack, tell your baby sister a story.
Jack: ABCDeezEFGHRJKMNMOPQRessyTUVWXYandZ!
Dan: She likes it.
Jack: I know. This is a crazy family.
Dan: ...OK.
Jack: Dad, I have to tell you sumpin. I like apple pie, pumpkin pie, but NOT peach pie. The baby doesn't like peach pie either.
Jack: ABCDeezEFGHRJKMNMOPQRessyTUVWXYandZ!
Dan: She likes it.
Jack: I know. This is a crazy family.
Dan: ...OK.
Jack: Dad, I have to tell you sumpin. I like apple pie, pumpkin pie, but NOT peach pie. The baby doesn't like peach pie either.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Conversation
Sydney's...girth, for lack of a better word, is the #1 topic of conversation whenever we're out in public. North Carolina is famous for it's relentless friendliness, and add a baby to that mix and you have a recipe for hours of conversations with strangers about your enormous infant. I have had the following conversation approximately 500 times in the last 2 months...and today it got a little ugly.
Scene: At the pediatrician's office, in the waiting room, two cranky ladies sit waiting for over 40 minutes.
Sydney: Waaahhh! (loosely translated to "What the f*ck is taking so long!?!?")
Receptionist, who has watched us sitting here for 40 minutes: Wow, she is mad!
Me: Yep.
Receptionist: She sure is big!
Me: Mmmhmm.
Receptionist: How old is she?
Me: 10 weeks.
Receptionist: Holy cow! What do you feed her?
Me: Plutonium.
Receptionist: Oh.
Scene: At the pediatrician's office, in the waiting room, two cranky ladies sit waiting for over 40 minutes.
Sydney: Waaahhh! (loosely translated to "What the f*ck is taking so long!?!?")
Receptionist, who has watched us sitting here for 40 minutes: Wow, she is mad!
Me: Yep.
Receptionist: She sure is big!
Me: Mmmhmm.
Receptionist: How old is she?
Me: 10 weeks.
Receptionist: Holy cow! What do you feed her?
Me: Plutonium.
Receptionist: Oh.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
They call me the YES man.
We're continually trying to instill some respect for elders into Jack (which is pretty laughable coming from me, but I do try). This includes using "Yes Sir" and "Yes Ma'am." Today after dinner he asked politely to be excused. As I was talking to Dan, I didn't answer him right away, so he continued, a little louder. "Wessman! Can I please get down now?" I replied in the affirmative, but I was a little puzzled over why he was calling me Wessman...do I have some Swedish heritage that I was unaware of?
I finally figured out that he hasn't been saying, "ma'am," but "man." So coupled with his trouble with Y sounds, he thinks he is supposed to call me "Wessman." How confusing (and stupid) life in this house must seem to a 4-year old.
I finally figured out that he hasn't been saying, "ma'am," but "man." So coupled with his trouble with Y sounds, he thinks he is supposed to call me "Wessman." How confusing (and stupid) life in this house must seem to a 4-year old.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
The cries, THE CRIES
We have settled in to parenting another being quite well, despite my increasing gray hairs. They are multiplying faster than Dan's video-game collection. But I digress...
Sydney the Giant has developed a sophisticated system of conveying her feelings non-verbally. She has three distinct cries. Allow me to elaborate in the form of a list!
Sydney the Giant has developed a sophisticated system of conveying her feelings non-verbally. She has three distinct cries. Allow me to elaborate in the form of a list!
- Cry #1: I'm very tired from not napping ALL DAY. Please take pity on me and walk around carrying my huge body until I fall asleep.
- Cry #2: (the most frequently heard cry) I'm starving! This is not melodrama! I am clearly dying of hunger! I am about to expire!!! Put something, anything, in my mouth, pronto!
- Cry #3: (mostly heard in the evening, and in the tone of Cruella DeVille) OK, I understand that you guys have forgotten EVERYTHING you know about being parents, but I clearly have an unidentified problem and you need to solve it...IMMEDIATELY!!! YOU IDIOTS!!!! YOU IMBECILES!!! FIX ME!!! I HATE YOU!!!
So This is Christmas
Tonight I asked an obedient Jack to let Dinah (the dog) outside. As he watched her scamper across the yard, he noticed that the stars were out in the prematurely dark sky (don't get me started on Daylight Savings).
"Oooh, a star! The only star in the sky!" he crooned.
"Make a wish!" I urged.
What followed can only be described as the most precious and simultaneously weird Christmas sentiment ever.
"Star, star, I wish on you ("woo")," he sang. "Please give a Merry Christmas to me and my sister."
At this point my eyes were tearing up...mostly because of his innocent sweetness and partly because I was holding a hulking 20-lb. baby over my shoulder.
"...andalsopleaseasnowshovel." He added under his breath.
I guess my Christmas wish should be for some snow for this child. PLEASE LET IT SNOW.
"Oooh, a star! The only star in the sky!" he crooned.
"Make a wish!" I urged.
What followed can only be described as the most precious and simultaneously weird Christmas sentiment ever.
"Star, star, I wish on you ("woo")," he sang. "Please give a Merry Christmas to me and my sister."
At this point my eyes were tearing up...mostly because of his innocent sweetness and partly because I was holding a hulking 20-lb. baby over my shoulder.
"...andalsopleaseasnowshovel." He added under his breath.
I guess my Christmas wish should be for some snow for this child. PLEASE LET IT SNOW.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Daily Drama
As Dan is on a business trip this week, I am... what can only be described as SADDLED, with two small bamas. ("Small" only when compared to the size of the sun.)
So I have to hoist/cart/haul Sydney around in her carrier (don't get me started on how THAT word is all wrong for the torturous device that she rides in) when taking Jack to and from school. Jack loves this because he can show off his sister to his friends, who are not allowed to touch the baby (his rule). He preens over her like a proud parent in front of his friends, daring them with his baby-cheek pinches and prideful boasting to just try to touch her. (Do not doubt that he will dole out smacks accordingly.)
This afternoon when I went to retrieve him, some of the children in his class were (smartly) still inside listening to stories told by Ms. Emily (quite possibly the cutest human being ever to live), so she told me, "Jack is playing outside, but you can leave the baby in here!" Before she had a chance to reconsider that statement, I ran through the classroom to exit to the playground at the rear. Quickly I plucked Jack from the screaming mass of 4-year olds playing "volcano" and we went to go back to the classroom.
But the door was locked.
And I could hear screaming.
So could Jack.
We watched through the window in the door, me with pity, Jack with debilitating consternation, as Ms. Emily was attempting to comfort the Nugget of Terror while 8 four-year-olds covered their ears.
I rapped on the window, but Sydney is just THAT deafening, and our attempts to get Ms. Emily's attention went unnoticed.
It starts to rain.
Jack throws himself against the door, screaming "MY BABY!!!"
I start to laugh.
He looks at me, prostrate with anxiety, and not a little hysterical, and screams, "OUR BABY IS IN THERE!" (He will make an excellent mother.)
Finally Ms. Emily notices us at the door and runs over to let us in, and Jack immediately rushes to Sydney's side to inspect her.
"SHE'S OK!" he exclaims with evident relief. (I wonder if he suspected that maybe someone took a bite out of her. She is very fat and juicy.)
Crisis averted, we make a hasty exit, and of course Sydney is fine once I am lugging her down the long hall of the school; this child's happiness is directly proportionate to my discomfort.
So I have to hoist/cart/haul Sydney around in her carrier (don't get me started on how THAT word is all wrong for the torturous device that she rides in) when taking Jack to and from school. Jack loves this because he can show off his sister to his friends, who are not allowed to touch the baby (his rule). He preens over her like a proud parent in front of his friends, daring them with his baby-cheek pinches and prideful boasting to just try to touch her. (Do not doubt that he will dole out smacks accordingly.)
This afternoon when I went to retrieve him, some of the children in his class were (smartly) still inside listening to stories told by Ms. Emily (quite possibly the cutest human being ever to live), so she told me, "Jack is playing outside, but you can leave the baby in here!" Before she had a chance to reconsider that statement, I ran through the classroom to exit to the playground at the rear. Quickly I plucked Jack from the screaming mass of 4-year olds playing "volcano" and we went to go back to the classroom.
But the door was locked.
And I could hear screaming.
So could Jack.
We watched through the window in the door, me with pity, Jack with debilitating consternation, as Ms. Emily was attempting to comfort the Nugget of Terror while 8 four-year-olds covered their ears.
I rapped on the window, but Sydney is just THAT deafening, and our attempts to get Ms. Emily's attention went unnoticed.
It starts to rain.
Jack throws himself against the door, screaming "MY BABY!!!"
I start to laugh.
He looks at me, prostrate with anxiety, and not a little hysterical, and screams, "OUR BABY IS IN THERE!" (He will make an excellent mother.)
Finally Ms. Emily notices us at the door and runs over to let us in, and Jack immediately rushes to Sydney's side to inspect her.
"SHE'S OK!" he exclaims with evident relief. (I wonder if he suspected that maybe someone took a bite out of her. She is very fat and juicy.)
Crisis averted, we make a hasty exit, and of course Sydney is fine once I am lugging her down the long hall of the school; this child's happiness is directly proportionate to my discomfort.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Conversations...
In a rare moment of grace and understanding, Dan took me to see the new Twilight: New Moon movie on a rainy afternoon a few weeks ago. Now, Dan has seen bits and pieces of the first movie and they always make him laugh, so it was quite a feat for him to sit through this movie after promising not to make nasty comments or laugh inappropriately. I'm sure the huge bag of popcorn helped, and the movie provided lots of new fodder for my derision.
Since we saw the movie, there has been a lot of conversation in our house about it. Apparently some aspect of it sparked his curiosity, albeit he still does not miss a chance to make jokes, especially about the sparkles.
Dan: Did something happen to you as a teenager to make you love all of this Twilight junk?
Me: Yes.
Dan, after a long pause, and a little more seriously: Did you have those dreams where you woke up screaming like Bella did?
Me: Not until I got married.
Since we saw the movie, there has been a lot of conversation in our house about it. Apparently some aspect of it sparked his curiosity, albeit he still does not miss a chance to make jokes, especially about the sparkles.
Dan: Did something happen to you as a teenager to make you love all of this Twilight junk?
Me: Yes.
Dan, after a long pause, and a little more seriously: Did you have those dreams where you woke up screaming like Bella did?
Me: Not until I got married.
Lingo
In the words of Jack...
- hush puppies = hubbies or hush chubbies
- granola bars = canola bars
- coins = circle money
- paper money = foldin' money
- Sydney Michelle = Cindyshell or CINDY A'SHELL
- potatoes = tatoes or matoes
- noodles = noodoos
- chocolate = chock-o-wit
- yeah = weah
- you = woo (as in, "Mommy, WOO do it!" and I'm all, "Who is Woo?!?!?!")
Thursday, December 3, 2009
It takes two...
Two hands. To handle this enormous baby. 16lbs of enormous baby. SIXTEEN POUNDS. At the age of 2 months. I am still reeling from our visit to the doctor, and judging from the nurse's comments, so is she. There was a brief moment in there that I thought we were going to have to buy a scale. It literally CREAKED when I laid her on it. I have no idea what we're going to do when she's 4 months.
We have had/are having a super holiday season with a pretty steady trickle of awesome through this place since September 30. I've had all sorts of amazing people visit and stay, and I really miss them all already. I'm thinking turning the house into a very messy (and authentic!) bed and breakfast. We have lots of beds and cereal.
Last night Jack and I wrote our letter to Santa, and I have to share a few quotes:
"Santa I am sooooo 3."
"This year I was bad. And good!"
"For Christmas this year I would like a snow shovel."
I don't really know what he is going to do with the shovel, as we get snow maybe once/year here, and even then it's dubiously shovel-able. Mostly we just wait for it to melt by noon. But I was really impressed that he limited his Christmas requests to only three items, and bonus, they were all ones I could find for him.
We have had/are having a super holiday season with a pretty steady trickle of awesome through this place since September 30. I've had all sorts of amazing people visit and stay, and I really miss them all already. I'm thinking turning the house into a very messy (and authentic!) bed and breakfast. We have lots of beds and cereal.
Last night Jack and I wrote our letter to Santa, and I have to share a few quotes:
"Santa I am sooooo 3."
"This year I was bad. And good!"
"For Christmas this year I would like a snow shovel."
I don't really know what he is going to do with the shovel, as we get snow maybe once/year here, and even then it's dubiously shovel-able. Mostly we just wait for it to melt by noon. But I was really impressed that he limited his Christmas requests to only three items, and bonus, they were all ones I could find for him.
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