Lily says "Bite me, world. Just bite me."

I was feeling a bit blue, so Sam bought me these:

He said it would make me feel better.



It worked.

Today's Bravery Award Goes To...

Sam! Who didn't cry at all when he got his flu shot today! He scrunched his eyes together and said, "ow... ow..." but then he took a trembling breath and didn't cry!

which made me cry.

ironic, isn't it?

One more body fluid to add to the day's tally

Blood.

Sam had an unfortunate encounter with a roll of wrapping paper.

I'm kind of impressed that he actually managed to hurt himself with that thing!

Houston! We have underpants!

Guess who's going pee pee in the potty! (Besides me . . .)

Starting preschool sux

Sam starting preschool has been way more traumatic than I thought it would be. (For all of us.) But today he seems to be doing really good. When we spied on him, he was laughing and playing and asking to color and wasn't crying anymore. (That's a first.)

So here's a cute picture of Sam to celebrate.

Lily got mauled by a herd of three year olds

So, we hung out for the first couple of hours with Sam at preschool today (to help him get used to it). And all of the little three year old girls found us utterly, utterly fascinating. They kept asking, "is that your baby? what's her name?" As if they had never seen a baby before in their entire life.

Whenever Lily tried to walk anywhere, she was instantly surrounded by at least six squealing girls (and one squealing boy) who petted her, grabbed her, tried to tickle her, tried to pick her up. This would happen over and over. One of the girls kept trying to "hug" Lily by wrapping her arms around Lily's neck and squeezing. Lily would gag and then push that girl away as hard as she could. (I was impressed, actually, at just how violent Lily was capable of getting.)

After awhile, Lily just couldn't take it anymore and started to cry. She sat on my lap for almost the whole time after that. And if you know Lily, you know that this is HUGE. She can't stand to stay in one place. She MUST, MUST, MUST keep moving, keep walking around. But she was not about to submit herself to the ravenous mauling of seven three year olds.

On my lap was the only safe place.

Sam's Preschool Follow Up

So . . . all did not go as splendidly as one would hope. When I got there to pick up Sam, his eyes were red and puffy. I said, "Did you like school?"

He said, "Yes. But I cried and cried. Like this . . ." And then he folded himself over and gave me a hilarious rendering of wracking sobs. (His teachers confirmed that this re-enactment was, in fact, based on truth.)

I asked, "Why'd you cry, honey?"

He said, "Because I missed my mommy so much."

Kind of breaks my heart. Poor kid.

Sam started preschool today!

He woke up all excited and said, "C'mon mom! We gotta *go*!" When we pulled up, he started laughing and said, "Wow, this is Sam's school!" And then he waved goodbye, blew me a kiss, and smiled like, "See ya!"

Memories to treasure

Slow dancing . . . "My heart will go on," from Titantic . . . and my two year old . . . trying to feel me up.

Ah.

guess who's walking

It's Yi-yi (her nickname) the eight-month-old wonder. She took four steps yesterday. And she's not humble about it, either. Every time she takes a step, she throws her arms in the air and gives this psycho Karate scream.

Ho Ho Hoax

So, Santa, of course, showed up at our house.

I'd been trying for weeks to build up my two-year old. We talked about Santa, we talked about Christmas. My husband didn't like to talk about Santa because he felt like a big, fat fraud. I never felt like a fraud, though. I'm all about the metaphors and Santa freaking rocks.

Well, when Christmas morning came and I led my little boy out to see the Christmas tree I said, "Oh, look! Did Santa bring you presents?"

My two year old looked at me, all confused, then looked at his dad. "No," he concluded. "Mommy did."

Lovely.

But--maybe to make up for it--today when he was crying I said, "Kido, I love you so much. Do you know I love you? And lots of other people love you, too. Do you know who else loves you?"

I paused and my two year old answered, "I know! Santa . . . Santa Claus. He wubs me."

Long live the metaphors!

Speedy Delivery

Baby number two has made her arrival. And it was FAST.

One minute the doctor was in the room saying that I was barely dilated to a 5 and it would probably be 4-6 more hours and the next minute (actually, just under 20 minutes later) I was crying/screaming as my mother in law was putting on rubber gloves to deliver the baby herself because it didn't look like the doctor *or* nurse was going to make it in time. Meanwhile I was totally panicking because A) WHY wasn't my epidural working? and B) WAS MY MOTHER IN LAW REALLY GOING TO DELIVER MY BABY? ***SERIOUSLY?!***

But she's cuter than I expected her to be. Is that horrible? To expect your baby to be ugly? I also expected her to be a pain in the &%^, but she's not so bad so far. Knock on every freaking piece of wood this side of the Atlantic. She's sleeping right next to me as I type, making those cute little newborn sighs. I may hate babies, but I confess, I don't hate her that much at all. :-)

Oh, and by the way, my mother in law didn't have to deliver the baby. The doctor rushed in just in time. Thank goodness.

My one year old is two now

I guess I have to change my profile. He's still crazy, though. Right now he's riding his tricycle around the living room while watching "The Incredibles" on his personal DVD player and "Baby Einstein" on the big DVD player. He's also singing to himself. And not a song from either DVD. I don't think he's normal.

My kid is going to hate me for this one

Everyone keeps thinking my crazy masculine baby is a girl. He'll be running around a store, dirt covering most of his 30 pounds worth of fat rolls, wearing a blue shirt with hammers on it, and someone will say, "What a beautiful girl you have!" I always want to say, "What on earth about my 30 pound hunk of baby fat dirty craziness (dressed in *man* clothes) is the least bit girly?!" But I think I know what it is. He's too good looking to be a boy. He's got these huge blue eyes, fat pink cheeks, and whispy little blonde curls that poke out from behind his ears. So. I just consider it a compliment when someone mistakes my obviously manly child for a girl. All they're really saying, I tell myself, is just how amazingly good looking he is. I just say, "thanks," and brace myself for his teenage years when the real girls will go CRAZY.