My birthday is coming up next month. It's not a milestone birthday, but I'm still excited. I'm excited because growing up is an adventure. I'm excited because I get to celebrate with my family. And I'm excited because I have a great idea to make this my greatest birthday ever. But I need your help!
I was inspired by this post I found on Pinterest (horribly addicted) a few months ago. Essentially, this woman chose to spend her birthday committing random acts of kindness. What an awesome idea! I've long wanted to start the "pay for the person behind me" chain in a Starbucks drive-thru. So this year, I'm using my birthday as an excuse to do it and to find other ways to go out of my way to be nice to people. And I am going to ask all of you to give me a gift as well.
I want everyone who reads this post to do something nice for someone - a friend, a neighbor, a complete stranger, ANYONE! And I want to hear about it in the comments of this post. I'll come back after my day of random acts of kindness and share with you what the kids and I decided to do to brighten people's days. I can't wait to see what you all come up with.
The best birthday gift I can imagine is to have hundreds of stranger smiling because people read this post. So please spread the word and come back soon (before the 2nd week in November) and let me know what you did (or if you don't want to share the specifics, just let me know that you did something).
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Saying Goodbye
Warning: Post is about pet death.
This is really long. I've been feeling so sad since Macie died on Saturday night that I felt like I needed to get my feelings down in writing.
When hubby and I got married our senior year of college, I (naively) thought I wanted a baby right away. Hubby offered a compromise and suggested we adopt a kitten instead. We wound up adopting two kittens from the same litter, a male and a female - Mac and Macie.
They were little fluffy balls of energy. Our favorite memories of those early days were of Mac and Macie chasing each other all around the apartment and falling asleep mid-stride on the carpet. Mac once fell off the back of the couch and before he hit the seat cushions, he was sound asleep. They played together. They snuggled together. When they stayed overnight at the vet to be declawed and spayed/neutered, the vet techs had to put them into the same cage to sleep together because they wouldn't stop crying apart. The kittens were so tiny that they both fit into the front pocket of hubby's hoodie sweatshirt, where they loved to snuggle and nap.
The cats were our first "children." We loved them. My mom sent them Christmas gifts. They became part of the family, as pets usually do. After Anna was born, both cats were very interested in the loud, smelly bundle we'd brought home. Mac was jumpy, but Macie just seemed to know that Anna would be her buddy. As Anna learned to walk, she'd follow Macie around, chanting, "Kuh! Kuh!" (how she pronounced cat) and Macie would let Anna pet her for a few minutes before she'd seek refuge on the top of the couch where Anna was unable to reach her.
When Anna moved into a big girl bed, Macie seized the opportunity to snuggle up with her on almost a nightly basis. Anna quickly learned that Macie didn't particularly like being hugged or forced into doll cribs. Macie was incredibly patient, but did nip a few times to remind Anna to back off. Anna always forgave her.
We took Macie to the vet shortly before Henry was born because she was visibly losing weight. The doctor said it was stress. I wish I had forced the issue. I wish I had asked for blood work then. Because a few weeks later, the baby was born and my life got turned upside down for a while. And by the time I saw just how much weight Macie had continued to lose, it was too late. Hubby says not to blame myself, but I can't help it. I feel like I let her down.
We tried for almost a month to save her life after the vet diagnosed kidney "issues." A round of antibiotics, two rounds of steroids, even daily IV fluids (thank you so much to my dear friend who came over every day for a week while hubby was traveling to help me with this!). Things would improve for a day or two, but she continued to eat less and less.
We came home from picking hubby up at the airport after a week long business trip Saturday night. I went up to the bedroom to put clean sheets on our bed and discovered that Macie had had an accident behind the chair. But as I tried to get her to move away from the area so I could clean it up, it became clear that this was more than an accident. She was so weak she could barely move. She moaned and laid down and couldn't get back up. She was bleeding. We found evidence that she'd been searching around our bedroom for a place to die. Poor Mac, in an effort to alert me earlier that day, had peed on my side of the bed (wake up, woman, my sister is not well!), but I figured he was ticked off that I had taken Macie's special food away from him. So Macie had spent the day in pain and alone.
Hubby took her right away to the animal ER. They said it was end stage kidney failure. There was nothing more they could do. She died in hubby's arms.
I never thought I would be this sad about an animal dying. Anna has dealt with it in spurts. Her initial reaction was to get out crayons and paper to make a project in honor of Macie, but she dissolved into tears at the table. She told hubby later this past weekend that she thought she had gotten Macie sick. And that about broke my heart.
This afternoon, the vet's office that last treated Macie sent us a card with something special enclosed. It was a pet sympathy car with the rainbow bridge story enclosed, plus 3 colored notecards with Macie's paw prints stamped on each of them. Anna claimed the blue one right away. I hung one up on the refrigerator. And then cried for a good long time.
Something is missing in our house. It just feels off. I keep thinking I hear Macie's triumphant meow of discovering the perfect beanie baby to haul around in her mouth or her twittering noises she used to make at light reflections on the ceiling in the living room. Mac is grieving in his own special way (peeing and pooping all over the house). I just feel so bad for him that he's lost his sister. Until Saturday, he'd never been away from her a day in his life.
We're all adjusting. I know I won't be sad forever. I know she wasn't a person and I feel a little silly that I'm this sad over a cat. But she was MY cat. And I loved her. An I miss her.
This is really long. I've been feeling so sad since Macie died on Saturday night that I felt like I needed to get my feelings down in writing.
When hubby and I got married our senior year of college, I (naively) thought I wanted a baby right away. Hubby offered a compromise and suggested we adopt a kitten instead. We wound up adopting two kittens from the same litter, a male and a female - Mac and Macie.
They were little fluffy balls of energy. Our favorite memories of those early days were of Mac and Macie chasing each other all around the apartment and falling asleep mid-stride on the carpet. Mac once fell off the back of the couch and before he hit the seat cushions, he was sound asleep. They played together. They snuggled together. When they stayed overnight at the vet to be declawed and spayed/neutered, the vet techs had to put them into the same cage to sleep together because they wouldn't stop crying apart. The kittens were so tiny that they both fit into the front pocket of hubby's hoodie sweatshirt, where they loved to snuggle and nap.
The cats were our first "children." We loved them. My mom sent them Christmas gifts. They became part of the family, as pets usually do. After Anna was born, both cats were very interested in the loud, smelly bundle we'd brought home. Mac was jumpy, but Macie just seemed to know that Anna would be her buddy. As Anna learned to walk, she'd follow Macie around, chanting, "Kuh! Kuh!" (how she pronounced cat) and Macie would let Anna pet her for a few minutes before she'd seek refuge on the top of the couch where Anna was unable to reach her.
When Anna moved into a big girl bed, Macie seized the opportunity to snuggle up with her on almost a nightly basis. Anna quickly learned that Macie didn't particularly like being hugged or forced into doll cribs. Macie was incredibly patient, but did nip a few times to remind Anna to back off. Anna always forgave her.
We took Macie to the vet shortly before Henry was born because she was visibly losing weight. The doctor said it was stress. I wish I had forced the issue. I wish I had asked for blood work then. Because a few weeks later, the baby was born and my life got turned upside down for a while. And by the time I saw just how much weight Macie had continued to lose, it was too late. Hubby says not to blame myself, but I can't help it. I feel like I let her down.
We tried for almost a month to save her life after the vet diagnosed kidney "issues." A round of antibiotics, two rounds of steroids, even daily IV fluids (thank you so much to my dear friend who came over every day for a week while hubby was traveling to help me with this!). Things would improve for a day or two, but she continued to eat less and less.
We came home from picking hubby up at the airport after a week long business trip Saturday night. I went up to the bedroom to put clean sheets on our bed and discovered that Macie had had an accident behind the chair. But as I tried to get her to move away from the area so I could clean it up, it became clear that this was more than an accident. She was so weak she could barely move. She moaned and laid down and couldn't get back up. She was bleeding. We found evidence that she'd been searching around our bedroom for a place to die. Poor Mac, in an effort to alert me earlier that day, had peed on my side of the bed (wake up, woman, my sister is not well!), but I figured he was ticked off that I had taken Macie's special food away from him. So Macie had spent the day in pain and alone.
Hubby took her right away to the animal ER. They said it was end stage kidney failure. There was nothing more they could do. She died in hubby's arms.
I never thought I would be this sad about an animal dying. Anna has dealt with it in spurts. Her initial reaction was to get out crayons and paper to make a project in honor of Macie, but she dissolved into tears at the table. She told hubby later this past weekend that she thought she had gotten Macie sick. And that about broke my heart.
This afternoon, the vet's office that last treated Macie sent us a card with something special enclosed. It was a pet sympathy car with the rainbow bridge story enclosed, plus 3 colored notecards with Macie's paw prints stamped on each of them. Anna claimed the blue one right away. I hung one up on the refrigerator. And then cried for a good long time.
Something is missing in our house. It just feels off. I keep thinking I hear Macie's triumphant meow of discovering the perfect beanie baby to haul around in her mouth or her twittering noises she used to make at light reflections on the ceiling in the living room. Mac is grieving in his own special way (peeing and pooping all over the house). I just feel so bad for him that he's lost his sister. Until Saturday, he'd never been away from her a day in his life.
We're all adjusting. I know I won't be sad forever. I know she wasn't a person and I feel a little silly that I'm this sad over a cat. But she was MY cat. And I loved her. An I miss her.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Anna's "How To" - Back to School Edition
Anna's "How To": How to Get Ready for School
1. Play dead when mom comes in to wake you up.
2. Erupt into tears when she suggests you remove your PJs in favor of the outfit she picked out for you.
3. Choose your replacement outfit on your own while she's not looking. Stripes and polka dots DO go together and pants are ALWAYS optional. Also, no matter what mom says, tights ARE actually pants and CAN be worn on their own. That woman has no clue about fashion.
4. Feign ignorance when mom suggests that you need breakfast. Breakfast? Please. Breakfast is for the weak.
5. Change your mind at least 4 times about what food is acceptable to your distinguished taste buds for today's breakfast. Foods you loved yesterday are now disgusting to you. Keep mom on her toes by deciding halfway through breakfast preparation that you no longer want what she is making.
6. No matter how many times mom says "Eat your breakfast," DO. NOT. GIVE. IN. This is a scare tactic employed by adults who are out to rule the morning routine. The longer you hold out, the more you are stickin' it to the man (or the mom, as the case may be).
7. Brushes of any kind are not to be trusted. It's best to hide at the mere mention of a tooth or hair brush
8. Growls and mean faces are the only forms of response required when mom demands that you "stop fooling around and just put your shoes on already!"
9. Get in your car seat, buckle your seat belt and DEMAND your favorite selection of music be played immediately. Chant, yell or roar until mom complies.
10. Make sure you finish picking your nose before it's time to cross the street to school. Don't worry about a tissue. Moms don't care if you wipe it on their hands.
11. Act cool in front of the other kids about saying good bye to your mom and brother, but as soon as she walks out the door, run after her screaming, "WAIT! I WANT TO HUG MY BROTHER!" Moms don't need hugs like babies do.
*Anna is thoroughly enjoying school now. She's made some friends and loves recess. She was very angry with me that this past weekend was four days long. Hope she's ok with this coming weekend only being two days!
1. Play dead when mom comes in to wake you up.
2. Erupt into tears when she suggests you remove your PJs in favor of the outfit she picked out for you.
3. Choose your replacement outfit on your own while she's not looking. Stripes and polka dots DO go together and pants are ALWAYS optional. Also, no matter what mom says, tights ARE actually pants and CAN be worn on their own. That woman has no clue about fashion.
4. Feign ignorance when mom suggests that you need breakfast. Breakfast? Please. Breakfast is for the weak.
5. Change your mind at least 4 times about what food is acceptable to your distinguished taste buds for today's breakfast. Foods you loved yesterday are now disgusting to you. Keep mom on her toes by deciding halfway through breakfast preparation that you no longer want what she is making.
6. No matter how many times mom says "Eat your breakfast," DO. NOT. GIVE. IN. This is a scare tactic employed by adults who are out to rule the morning routine. The longer you hold out, the more you are stickin' it to the man (or the mom, as the case may be).
7. Brushes of any kind are not to be trusted. It's best to hide at the mere mention of a tooth or hair brush
8. Growls and mean faces are the only forms of response required when mom demands that you "stop fooling around and just put your shoes on already!"
9. Get in your car seat, buckle your seat belt and DEMAND your favorite selection of music be played immediately. Chant, yell or roar until mom complies.
10. Make sure you finish picking your nose before it's time to cross the street to school. Don't worry about a tissue. Moms don't care if you wipe it on their hands.
11. Act cool in front of the other kids about saying good bye to your mom and brother, but as soon as she walks out the door, run after her screaming, "WAIT! I WANT TO HUG MY BROTHER!" Moms don't need hugs like babies do.
*Anna is thoroughly enjoying school now. She's made some friends and loves recess. She was very angry with me that this past weekend was four days long. Hope she's ok with this coming weekend only being two days!
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
A Letter to Teacher
Dear "Kindergarten Teacher,"
I want to begin by saying I am not placing blame, simply trying to find out how on earth something like this might have happened on the second day of school. I'm also not saying that this happened on your watch, but by my calculations, it must have occurred during school hours.
Somehow, and I'm not sure how, as I know that you keep careful watch over your classroom, but somehow, Anna got pregnant with twin bunnies during school today.
Can we please schedule a meeting to discuss how to avoid future unplanned pregnancies? I have far too many stuffed animals at my house already.
Thank you,
A Concerned Parent
I want to begin by saying I am not placing blame, simply trying to find out how on earth something like this might have happened on the second day of school. I'm also not saying that this happened on your watch, but by my calculations, it must have occurred during school hours.
Somehow, and I'm not sure how, as I know that you keep careful watch over your classroom, but somehow, Anna got pregnant with twin bunnies during school today.
Can we please schedule a meeting to discuss how to avoid future unplanned pregnancies? I have far too many stuffed animals at my house already.
Thank you,
A Concerned Parent
Monday, August 27, 2012
First Day of School
This morning started out like the opening scene of Finding Nemo (because I skip the ACTUAL opening scene where Coral and the eggs are massacred by the evil fish). I pounced on Anna all excited-like chanting first day of school! First day of school! She rolled over and flopped back onto her pillow very dramatically and I had to resort to "Just get up already." But we were both still excited.
We got dressed, ate, packed up and were out the door EARLY, which is unheard of for us in the last few months, between Anna's ultra-putzy eating and trying to time everything with a baby. I only teared up twice during breakfast. We didn't forget anything either. Doing well so far! Took the obligatory "first day of school" photos before piling into the car and driving to school.
We dropped Anna off in her classroom alongside several other proud parents. Most of the kids in her class looked more nervous than excited, Anna included. But she remembered her teacher from her home visit last month and that made her feel secure enough for us to leave with just a couple of hugs. Independent girl, that one.
Then I got teary eyed in the hallway outside the classroom and then again at church while we waited for the opening service to start. And again at home as I sat in my suddenly VERY quiet house and realized that I don't really want Anna to be at school. I'm not ready for her to be gone every morning. I'm not ready to share the responsibility of raising and educating her with someone else again. I feel like I just got her back after two and a half years of working full time. (Even though we had a great childcare experience which she still talks about all the time, I missed her horribly during that time.)
I realize it's the first day of a major transition for both of us. And I'm famously lacking in the "logic department." But there's a huge part of me that just wants to call this whole thing off. K4 is not required by law. Let's forget this whole thing and try again next year. I want another year of her being little. Another year of lazy mornings, drinking coffee on our back step while she decorates our driveway with her buckets of sidewalk chalk and colored bubbles. Another year of snuggling on the couch, watching Disney Junior in our PJs. What happened to the summer? What happened to the last 4 years?
When I picked Anna up at lunchtime, she told me that she'd had fun, liked school, and absolutely did NOT want to go back tomorrow. Hmm, kid, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but this was not a one-time thing. After an afternoon of incredible meltdowns and an unheard-of 2 hour nap from Anna, she and I both (separately) had good cries about the fact that she has to go back to school again tomorrow. To her face I was enthusiastically supportive - asking questions about why she doesn't want to go back, offering things to look forward to, hatching plans to ask interesting questions of her classmates to get to know them better. But here, in my room, I'm bawling. Partially because I'm sleep-deprived (thank you very much, Llama Face), but mostly because I want to hug her tight the next time she says she doesn't want to go back and tell her I don't want her to go either and let's just stay here and bake things and hunt for bugs and play Barbies and paint the day away.
But being a grown-up means finding the will to go forward even when you don't want to. So I'll be the grownup and I'll encourage her to keep trying. I can almost promise that by the end of next week I'll have to pry her away from the classroom at pickup time. But I'll still be missing my girl during my quiet mornings.
(A note - I am very thankful for my 1-on-1 time with Henry. But even he was missing her today. She's his favorite person in the world. She loves him more than a buffalo, after all.)
We got dressed, ate, packed up and were out the door EARLY, which is unheard of for us in the last few months, between Anna's ultra-putzy eating and trying to time everything with a baby. I only teared up twice during breakfast. We didn't forget anything either. Doing well so far! Took the obligatory "first day of school" photos before piling into the car and driving to school.
We dropped Anna off in her classroom alongside several other proud parents. Most of the kids in her class looked more nervous than excited, Anna included. But she remembered her teacher from her home visit last month and that made her feel secure enough for us to leave with just a couple of hugs. Independent girl, that one.
Then I got teary eyed in the hallway outside the classroom and then again at church while we waited for the opening service to start. And again at home as I sat in my suddenly VERY quiet house and realized that I don't really want Anna to be at school. I'm not ready for her to be gone every morning. I'm not ready to share the responsibility of raising and educating her with someone else again. I feel like I just got her back after two and a half years of working full time. (Even though we had a great childcare experience which she still talks about all the time, I missed her horribly during that time.)
I realize it's the first day of a major transition for both of us. And I'm famously lacking in the "logic department." But there's a huge part of me that just wants to call this whole thing off. K4 is not required by law. Let's forget this whole thing and try again next year. I want another year of her being little. Another year of lazy mornings, drinking coffee on our back step while she decorates our driveway with her buckets of sidewalk chalk and colored bubbles. Another year of snuggling on the couch, watching Disney Junior in our PJs. What happened to the summer? What happened to the last 4 years?
When I picked Anna up at lunchtime, she told me that she'd had fun, liked school, and absolutely did NOT want to go back tomorrow. Hmm, kid, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but this was not a one-time thing. After an afternoon of incredible meltdowns and an unheard-of 2 hour nap from Anna, she and I both (separately) had good cries about the fact that she has to go back to school again tomorrow. To her face I was enthusiastically supportive - asking questions about why she doesn't want to go back, offering things to look forward to, hatching plans to ask interesting questions of her classmates to get to know them better. But here, in my room, I'm bawling. Partially because I'm sleep-deprived (thank you very much, Llama Face), but mostly because I want to hug her tight the next time she says she doesn't want to go back and tell her I don't want her to go either and let's just stay here and bake things and hunt for bugs and play Barbies and paint the day away.
But being a grown-up means finding the will to go forward even when you don't want to. So I'll be the grownup and I'll encourage her to keep trying. I can almost promise that by the end of next week I'll have to pry her away from the classroom at pickup time. But I'll still be missing my girl during my quiet mornings.
(A note - I am very thankful for my 1-on-1 time with Henry. But even he was missing her today. She's his favorite person in the world. She loves him more than a buffalo, after all.)
Thursday, August 9, 2012
How to Take a Bath
This was an exercise for the writer's group I belong to, and I enjoyed it so I thought I'd share. The prompt was to write a list from a child's perspective on how to do something. The example given was how to behave in church. Very cute. I had just had the afternoon bathtime from Hades so I focused on that for my response. Here it is:
Anna's How-To: Take a Bath
1. When mom announces bathtime, strip naked, then run and hide. (Bonus points if you make it outside before she catches you.)
2. Dump ALL the bath toys into the tub before you get in. If you've done this correctly, there should be approximately 9 square inches of open space for you to occupy.
3. Pretend not to hear when mom says to turn the water off.
4. When the water is so deep that you're floating a little, THEN turn it off.
5. Put on your goggles.
6. Fill at least 5 cups with water and place them strategically on the outside edge of the tub. These will ward off and alert you to any incoming parents with the intent to wash.
7. Use your goggles to explore the 2 million bath toys you dumped into the tub in step 2.
8. Soap is a 4-letter word. Treat it as such.
9. Resist "washing" until mom threatens to turn on the shower. You don't want rain on your rubber duck parade.
10. Complain as much as possible during the washing process. I promise, this makes it go faster.
11. "Keep the water in the tub" is just something grown-ups say. Go ahead and splash that stuff everywhere!
12. Rub soap across your lips. Blot lips together. Now you will bubble when you talk.
13. When mom says it's time to get out, hunker down. You're good and slippery all wet and naked. No way she's getting you out of there by force.
14. Dry off - use this time to pretend you are Mary or a stone or just plain invisible under that towel.
15. Comb is another 4-letter word. Run for the back door.
16. Insist on putting on your own pajamas. Insist that backwards IS, in fact, the way you meant to wear them!
17. Brush your teeth. Make sure you brush each. individual. tooth. Repeat process as able with the toothpaste of every member of your family.
18. Fly into a rage at the mere mention of the removal of your toys from their positions in the tub.
19. Leave your towel on the floor. You have people to clean up stuff like that.
Writing this from her perspective was fun! I could see looking at other Anna-tics (Anna + antics - get it? No? Sorry.) and writing them out like this as well.
Anna's How-To: Take a Bath
1. When mom announces bathtime, strip naked, then run and hide. (Bonus points if you make it outside before she catches you.)
2. Dump ALL the bath toys into the tub before you get in. If you've done this correctly, there should be approximately 9 square inches of open space for you to occupy.
3. Pretend not to hear when mom says to turn the water off.
4. When the water is so deep that you're floating a little, THEN turn it off.
5. Put on your goggles.
6. Fill at least 5 cups with water and place them strategically on the outside edge of the tub. These will ward off and alert you to any incoming parents with the intent to wash.
7. Use your goggles to explore the 2 million bath toys you dumped into the tub in step 2.
8. Soap is a 4-letter word. Treat it as such.
9. Resist "washing" until mom threatens to turn on the shower. You don't want rain on your rubber duck parade.
10. Complain as much as possible during the washing process. I promise, this makes it go faster.
11. "Keep the water in the tub" is just something grown-ups say. Go ahead and splash that stuff everywhere!
12. Rub soap across your lips. Blot lips together. Now you will bubble when you talk.
13. When mom says it's time to get out, hunker down. You're good and slippery all wet and naked. No way she's getting you out of there by force.
14. Dry off - use this time to pretend you are Mary or a stone or just plain invisible under that towel.
15. Comb is another 4-letter word. Run for the back door.
16. Insist on putting on your own pajamas. Insist that backwards IS, in fact, the way you meant to wear them!
17. Brush your teeth. Make sure you brush each. individual. tooth. Repeat process as able with the toothpaste of every member of your family.
18. Fly into a rage at the mere mention of the removal of your toys from their positions in the tub.
19. Leave your towel on the floor. You have people to clean up stuff like that.
Writing this from her perspective was fun! I could see looking at other Anna-tics (Anna + antics - get it? No? Sorry.) and writing them out like this as well.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Anna the Super Sister
There's a song Anna loves from one of her Tom Hunter CDs that sings about getting up in the morning and leaving for your favorite place to play. She asked me to sing it to her the other night, so I did. And when I paused so she could fill in her destination, she enthusiastically said "Hawaii!" And as I finished singing the verse she muttered, "by myself! And my brother is coming too."
Ever since Little Llama came along, I'm chopped liver. She tells him every day that she loves him more than me. But refuses to clarify whether that means that she loves him more than she loves me or that she loves him more than I love him. I firmly believe that if she could lift him, she'd take over as his mother and banish me to my bedroom for the rest of the summer. And I think I might take her up on it some days!
When I first found out I was pregnant last summer, I was really nervous. Anna was in the middle of a really nasty tantrum phase and I was terrified about adding to the stress and responsibility of one child. I was worried about how she would take the addition of a baby to our family. Worried about how much worse her tantrums and behavior would get. Worried that she would think I didn't love her once the baby came along.
But you know what, that girl is a constant surprise. She has handled the transition to Big Sister with amazing ease. From the moment she walked into our hospital room in April, she has been nothing but proud and loving to that baby. Only a few hiccups here and there, and I think I need to take responsibility for most of those. I don't have much patience when I haven't gotten any sleep.
She's a great helper and she adores Henry. She loves to read him stories and make up crazy songs to sing to him. Often when Henry starts to cry and I'm in the other room attempting to scarf the oatmeal that I've reheated 3 times but still not finished, Anna will yell "I'M ON IT!" and run to find his nuk or just be with him.
Her first demand every morning is "where is my brother?" No "good morning." No "hi, mommy." And it isn't a question. It's a threat. She may as well be saying, "Tell me where my brother is right this second or else!" Of course, her second demand is to hold him. And then they smile and talk to each other until Henry decides he's hungry or spits up so hard I have to clean it from between his toes. Anna only wants him when he's clean and happy. But I'm welcome to him the rest of the time.
Watching them together makes me incredibly happy and also makes me feel incredibly blessed. I'm trying to learn to hold on to that feeling during the chaotic times because I know how fast this will go and very soon I will be wishing for these days.
Added bonus, a video of Henry's new trick, the fake cough. Please excuse Anna's smokers hacking cough. It grosses me out, but Henry finds it funny.
Ever since Little Llama came along, I'm chopped liver. She tells him every day that she loves him more than me. But refuses to clarify whether that means that she loves him more than she loves me or that she loves him more than I love him. I firmly believe that if she could lift him, she'd take over as his mother and banish me to my bedroom for the rest of the summer. And I think I might take her up on it some days!
When I first found out I was pregnant last summer, I was really nervous. Anna was in the middle of a really nasty tantrum phase and I was terrified about adding to the stress and responsibility of one child. I was worried about how she would take the addition of a baby to our family. Worried about how much worse her tantrums and behavior would get. Worried that she would think I didn't love her once the baby came along.
But you know what, that girl is a constant surprise. She has handled the transition to Big Sister with amazing ease. From the moment she walked into our hospital room in April, she has been nothing but proud and loving to that baby. Only a few hiccups here and there, and I think I need to take responsibility for most of those. I don't have much patience when I haven't gotten any sleep.
She's a great helper and she adores Henry. She loves to read him stories and make up crazy songs to sing to him. Often when Henry starts to cry and I'm in the other room attempting to scarf the oatmeal that I've reheated 3 times but still not finished, Anna will yell "I'M ON IT!" and run to find his nuk or just be with him.
Her first demand every morning is "where is my brother?" No "good morning." No "hi, mommy." And it isn't a question. It's a threat. She may as well be saying, "Tell me where my brother is right this second or else!" Of course, her second demand is to hold him. And then they smile and talk to each other until Henry decides he's hungry or spits up so hard I have to clean it from between his toes. Anna only wants him when he's clean and happy. But I'm welcome to him the rest of the time.
Watching them together makes me incredibly happy and also makes me feel incredibly blessed. I'm trying to learn to hold on to that feeling during the chaotic times because I know how fast this will go and very soon I will be wishing for these days.
Added bonus, a video of Henry's new trick, the fake cough. Please excuse Anna's smokers hacking cough. It grosses me out, but Henry finds it funny.
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