Sunday, February 27, 2011

random acts of zoo-ness

I really have no better avenue to ask than the blog...we are the grateful recipients of another year's membership to the zoo. Who is it from? A box to our family landed in our mailbox yesterday. No identifying information in the package that arrived, just an adorable tiger stuffed animal, which Miles quickly adopted, named "Go Go", and my first born is apparently going by Sigfreid now (ie, he carries it around like another appendage). Actually, we did see on the receipt that it was purchased on the 24th online, and we may have a credit card #.

Please let me know if anyone has an idea who may have done such an amazingly thoughtful gift. I'm not sure the occasion, or that any of us are deserving (if your a Facebook follower, you may know that as Eric hugged me the other night to tell me how wonderful a mother I am, we were interrupted by Felix screeching as he closed his hand in the 1/2 emptied dishwasher I had just left open.)

I want to appropriately thank the anonymous gifter, but this post cannot express the gratitude we any leads are appreciated. Miles made some great new thank you note paper just ready to be filled.

Yes...2011 may just be our year...

Thursday, February 24, 2011


My intentions of doing "embrace the camera" Thursday came to a screeching halt when our Mac has become bloated by too many pictures and videos. My hope is to find a way to post the silliness that transpired among Miles, the Cannon, and Me tonight...until then, something to whet the appetite. (I was going to go with transpired "between" but isn't that just in relation to 2 objects? I'm drawing a grammar blank. But among sounds a little uppity.)

Some of you have asked about my grandmother, and I think everyone for the support. Although I seemingly exploit my immediately family on the blog, I do try to make an attempt to protect the privacy of other family/friends. The Internet is a scary dark place full of cooties...and caches that retain data for all eternity. But I feel a strong pull to share her current struggles.

I have all 4 of my grandparents. I am thirty *cough* one years old...and the youngest in my family. And my grandparents, although I would dabble using the word "spry" to compare them at times, aren't spring chickens. They are all in their late 80s, early 90s (go genes!) Pretty remarkable, eh? I knew as I got older that the likelihood of a condensed departure of family members (that's skirting around the issue, no?) would happen sooner or later, and it seems to be sooner.

But as I've mentioned--with each year, grandparental immortality becomes more plausible.

My paternal grandmother, Lila, has been battling schleroderma and resultant congestive heart/kidney failure for quite some time. Just over the past few years she has acquired  a wrap sheet of conditions and concomitant diagnoses that would have your mind spinning.

Wait. She's the youngest of the 4...and is it my memory, or could she break an apple apart with her bare hands? This woman is tough. She ran a family farm. Even now, she barely has any grey hair (why didn't she pass that gene along to me?) She is the one who I remember playing with in the basement of their house in PA next to her HUGE quilting apparatus (there is an official name, I am was some big table with a quilt stretched over it), and we would throw these ping-pong balls with lines of Velcro onto a felt wall hanging (anyone? Bueller?). I was in about 5th grade or so (like, pre deoderant, no training bra kind of age.) I remember asking her if she liked being a grandmother, and if she would someday come to my wedding. And she said yes, but that she was planning on being more than that, and couldn't wait to meet her great granddaughter. No joke. It was at that time, I filed away the fact that if we ever had a girl, I would want to name her Lila. While I'm not sure my grandmother's dream will ever be realized from my uterus, I am so thankful they all have lived to witness great grandchildren (she tells me to "hug the boys" every time we talk.) I've never told anyone that story...not even Eric. (And soon, I have a story about Eric and HIS grandmother that he has never told anyone. Another post, another day...oh! how I can build tension!)

This month, on the 17th, I was pretty much convinced she wasn't going to see the 18th. And then she did. And also on the 17th, I become an Aunt (pronounced Aunt like Taunt. Respect the "u" will you?) to the most delectable little niece. While her name is not Lila, it's pretty darn close. And it gave me chills. Life is miraculous...just utterly miraculous, no?

(And she was born at 11:11am. If you an Ali and Eric connoisseur, you know that is like HUGE!)

It was one of the most emotional days--the circle of life as I called it previously.

But here we are. My grandmother is still in the hospital, away from her 90+ year old husband, fighting tooth and nail to stay alive (with some help of lots of drugs like morphine and ativan...thank goodness).

And I find myself feeling like that little girl in the basement more and more.

Miles called me "mom" yesterday at one point and I was like: "What? Holy bleepity bleep. Am I a mother?"

Okay, I know he's almost 3 and this shouldn't be news (especially at 5:45am when he is moaning MOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYY!!!!!), but does anyone else have moments where you have a total out of body experience and are like "I am a mom. There is a chance my child will remember this day." I don't know why, but it is crazy for me to think that just today might be the day that we imprint Miles with his "first memory." (Do you remember yours? Mine was of me in a room with Winnie the Pooh wallpaper in a crib, playing with a greenish action figure, and getting stuck in a blanket. Is that totally accurate? I have no idea, but that's what I remember.)

There are times I feel like I am a really competent mother. And other times I feel like I'm just playing one on TV. Or that I'm babysitting. It has nothing to do with how much I love my kids as much as it is about trust in myself. And denying I am an old fart who needs to be gifted cane tips and hemorrhoid cream as gag gifts on my next birthday.

What doesn't help is that the fear of losing my grandparents makes me feel even less like an "adult." When you are little and a grandparent dies, I feel like the whole elementary school rallied around you. Teachers hugged you, and you may even get off a day or two. As an adult, I doubt the CEO will come down and hug me (uh, that's okay actually), and one of my biggest concerns is having enough time to even take off if it was necessary. And that people will assume because I am THAT much older, that I am THAT much more prepared for the death of my family members.


So, I guess the whole point of my post is that I've come to grips with the fact that as you get older, you have to be more willing to accept Superhero underwear. Sometimes I may not feel like I am qualified to be a mom, but I still need to wear the cape and "own" the knee high, primary colored boots. (Now, the starred bustier is another thing.)

And there are times that I really do feel like a real superhero...and other times I know it is a role I have to play. And on those days, I rock out to Superhero by Tim and the Space Cadets. Or as I like to call it, RENT for toddlers. Okay, I can claim that I listen to it because it is conveniently in my car's CD player on the umpteenth mix CD I've made for the boys (and if you are a recipient of any of my baby CDs, you'll have it, too), but I would ELECT to listen to this song in a line up.

But wait, I even found a video. And Mr Tim isn't too bad on the eyes, either. (insert some joke about x-ray vision.)

Monday, February 21, 2011

The Early Bird Catches the Cranky Parents

From Hair cut time!
This is what happens when I don't regularly post. Life backs up in my mind, and then there is an explosion post of ramblings that you all must glaze over and eagerly await the next Mommy Blogger's Blog in your Google Reader. But I do have some more pictures at the end. Not sure that's much consolation.

That whole amnesia parenting syndrome doesn't end when your mind erases your 3+ week tryst with the mesh underwear the hospital sends you home with after giving birth, or the first few weeks (in our case, months) of multiple night wakings.

"It wasn't THAT bad. I could do it again!"

Since Felix has been sleeping completely through the night consistently for some time, when he doesn't, it's like a hard slap in the face. WHAT.WAS.THAT?

And now my arsenal is short one, err, rather two weapons. Calvin and Hobbs.

Felix has 4 lumps in his back gums.


You parents know what that means. M-O-L-A-R-S. There is not follow-up to that statement. Been there, done that, and survived.

Felix is generally a happy kid. Even though they call him Mad Dog or Pig Pen at school, he is just a really outgoing happy fella. Until he teethes. And then Crankenstein emerges, and he wants to be held all of the time.

And then he started waking up at 5:40am or earlier every day about a week ago.

Two minutes after Miles wakes up. These kids don't even share a room, but they have this synchronized early wake-up down.

Just a few weeks ago, Eric would get his clothes out of Felix's room because Mad Dog would "sleep in" until almost 7am, and we all need to be out the door by 7:30am. Even Miles was blessing us with 6:40am wake-ups.

Was it the recent full moon that re-set their internal clocks?

I don't know, but the past few days, we've had extra early birds. I used to consider myself a morning person. Then I had kids. And then I started buying Jones Pure Cane Cola and drinking a can BEFORE 10am. Hi, my name is Ali, and I am becoming addicted to Jones Cola. (Except the Berry Lemonade and Cream Soda...puke.)

Bedtimes haven't changed. Felix is down before 7:30pm, and Miles soon after. And you all know that later bedtimes do NOT translate into later wake-ups for the 10 year old and younger crowd.

But here I am complaining of a random night waking and early rising when I was up 7+ times some nights with Felix during his peak ear infections, and I have too much amnesia to remember the nights with Miles.

But that's what happens. And that is why mothers aren't lying when they say, "it wasn't that bad." Or erroneously recall how bad it "wasn't."

God's clever wiring...or we all would be mothers of single children.

And in truth, the good FAR outweighs the tiring. But I won't say there hadn't been nights that I *might* have told Yahweh that I would sell my soul or live in poverty if we could just have some extra stretches of sleep.

And that's why I cannot get mad at my friend at work who has a baby who sleeps in until 9am some days (um, that's our first nap slot!), and comes into work complaining of fatigue if her daughter gets up at 6:30am. It's all relative and what you are used to. And I will readily admit that her awful mornings of 6:30am early wakings probably feel just as bad as our 5:33am ones, because our baselines our different.

That's why recently I have been getting greedy and cranky. Our baseline adjusted. Just a month of "full night's rest" re-set our clock, and early morning wake-ups seemed extra cruel, and foreign.

American Innovative Teach Me Time! Talking Alarm Clock and NightlightSo I caved, and trusted Amazon to find me some technical panacea. (Selling my soul didn't work apparently--kidding!) American Innovative Teach Me Time clock. And if you look on Amazon, I did pay close to that sticker price. Ouch! Although we aren't going to use it to teach time, yet, Miles already knows that it has to start glowing "green" before he can get out of the room. It's programmable, small, modern looking (#3 on my check list apparently), and has a lot of good reviews from parents. Day 2 of the experiment--it's sort of working. We still have to go into the room and lie down with him when he moans and groans for his "a-hole" (oatmeal) and we easily get man handled by a 2 year old who won't relent until you say it's time to get up, but now we have some sort of weapon. Luckily, Miles isn't extremely defiant and has NO idea he has the power to get out of his bed without permission, but he's moving in that direction, so I'd like to capitalize off of his immaturity and lack of reasoning skills with this clock. We set the green to go "on" at 6:20am, and then it goes off at 7am when I say it is ready for school, knowing I will have to alligator wrestle both boys for 30 minutes before they are tossed in the car, kissed and whisked away to school by Daddy. And no, they aren't really tossed. Poetic license and sleep deprivation allow me to talk like that.

Until the 2 boys share a room (maybe this summer?), I am at a loss for what to do with Felix outside of daily prayer, caffeinated soda, and the solace of parenting amnesia when this phase passes.

Because it IS a phase. And it's not awful. (It's just a little harder when you work 40+ hours a week outside the home and are already knackered.)

And no. Offering the breastaurant got awful reviews. Not so much awful as comedic. Last night when I sprung up at 1am thinking "No. Way. Why is Felix up? This is so unusual!" (As if he had never woken up before at night his first year.) I ran in to capitalize on the still slightly dreamy phase to see if I could get him to go back down. Remember--we have no rocker. Just amazingly strong legs and abs of steel from bouncing at night since 2008.

I was lazy. Out of I thought, "what the hell (yes, I thought that exact phrase. Sorry Mom. I get cheeky and crass late at night)...I know there is still milk in these things." Yes there is. Looks can be deceiving, but it can take MONTHS for the supply to be completely gone. So I plopped on the bed and Felix literally looked straight in my face with his huge eyes, squirmed and LAUGHED. And then he tried to feed me my hair. (What is it with my boys and my hair?)

Boob fail.

It was worth a try, no?

But they are getting older, and I am clinging on to each stage, as tiresome as they may be, because before we know it, they'll be holed up in their room listening to music I hate, squeezing zits and getting up the guts to call up a cute girl from school for their homework assignment.

Sometimes, it goes too fast...just never between 10pm and 6am. We got Miles his first professional haircut at Salon Red for Kids, and he left looking like he needed to start wearing deodorant. I kid you not, I cut his hair every 3 weeks, but his cowlick was getting unmanageable, so I took him to get a fresh cut and will try to replicate with the intention of getting a "real" cut 2 times a year or so. It really does look cute, but I have to say I miss the "bowl" cut a bit, and think I do nearly as good of a job some times.
From Hair cut time!

I decided to practice the new cutting technique I watched at the Salon on Felix, and I have to say, he looks pretty good! (yup, he gets a cut every month, boys have some HAIR!) Minus the boogies, puffs, and patches of hair stuck to his body. Thank goodness for Fantasia and snacks. Works like a charm.
From Hair cut time!
From Hair cut time!
From Hair cut time!
From Hair cut time!

And just so you don't think there is not reason behind my child being called Pig Pen, he has a mucus facial just about every night. Look at those eyebrows plastered!
From Hair cut time!
From Hair cut time!

But I love my trouble 1 and trouble 2.
From Hair cut time!

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Pictures make it all better

Rock on universe!

On a really emotional day, it ended with our proofs coming back from our photoshoot with Danielle Bryson. Despite the less than ideal weather, there are a few really cute ones of the boys. I think we have a couple we will soon be adding to our wall of fame.

And in other news--the circle of life is in a standstill. No niece as of yet, and my grandmother is still rockin' the ICU. To be continued...

Seeing pictures of my of my family centers me. Makes me realize how important they are to me, and even gives me the itch to keep it going. (Eric just vomited a little in his mouth, and my uterus just shuddered).

If interested, feel to take a look. password "running" (I know, I am a bad Mom for giving the world carte blanche to view my family. But we are a handsome bunch, no? Lollipops, boogies, tantrums, and all.)

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Circle of life

Emotional day.

Today may mark the time I potentially become an Aunt for the first time (EEK!), and lose my first grandparent.

I know I need to cry, but not sure what emotional reservoir the tears will come from.

In both instances, all I can pray for is peace, comfort, and for things to progress smoothly...and I remind everyone yet again to tell those you care about--from the newest baby, to the oldest grandparent that you LOVE them.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Happy Valentine's Two-Day!!

I cower under the creativity and beautiful Valentine's Day posts of my blogger friends.

I am kicking myself for not documenting our weekend full of Valentine's day preparations and flower planting. So I got all guilty on myself and pulled out the camera when we are all at our worst: 6pm. 

All I have to offer is a quickly spliced video from right before bed time: my eternal attempt to make my boys perform. And this time, I got Eric in on it, too.

The best--Felix saying "Dada" when I asked him to say "Mama." Atta boy.

Felix is sporting red rashy cheeks; that's Valentine-sy, no? Between the hands shoved in the mouth and the chapped cheeks...I smell teeth!

Although Eric and I don't "celebrate" Valentine's day, we did have a day full of extra kisses and I love yous all around.

I love you Eric.
I love you Milosevich.
I love you "Mad Dog" Felix.

Make sure you give some extra hugs, kisses, and I love yous too.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011


That's boob-code for "hanging up the horns." Or in my case "hands."

Yup. This week will be the first week I don't pump. I still have some frozen milk that Felix drinks every day, but I'm retiring my hands and Medela Freestyle. (And the manual pump I borrowed from my bestie CD is going into storage--when you need it again, I am buying you a new one!) In fact, the Freestyle is now a part of my children's toy bin. Don't's like a glorified pager and they love turning it on and pressing the buttons. If we ever have more children, I will buy a new pump as this one has been through the ringer and is in no condition to donate or sell, so my options were throw it out, or let my children explore with a lactation device. Miles used to have a ball playing drums with rogue tampons he found in our bathroom--a breast pump is the logical next step, no? (I call it husband grooming.)

I reduced my yahoo groups PumpMoms membership to only urgent e-mails from the moderator yesterday, instead of getting every new post from moms in pump crisis. (God, I love that is one of the best online communities if you are a pumping mother!). I never thought I would be the one having a hard time weaning, but it's me who needed a graduated removal from nursing and pumping. Felix? "Nursing was SO 2 weeks ago. I mean, puh-leaze Mommy! I am already walking without holding my hands in perma-touchdown pose. How dare you insult me with such baby games!"

I've pumped e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e...for years...and I'm getting a little weepy as this journey ceases. I think it's because it marks the end of breastfeeding as a whole for me at the present time. (See? I cannot even put my mind in a place that could accept that I will never nurse again.)

I'll admit it, I'm being the baby here, not Felix. But this is more emotionally charged than I anticipated.

It doesn't help that Felix's birthday shout-out on one of my favorite websites was posted today:

Yup. I wrote it when he was just a year, and I was still nursing--I still had that one session each night that I both dreaded when between 2-4am Felix would first stir, but also loved when we both collapsed on the guest bed to "connect."

It was my own version of 10 minutes in heaven.

I had no idea when writing that within a few short weeks, that time would be gone. (To be replaced with sleeping longer stretches, though!)

And here is where I go all psycho-analyst on myself. I think the ending of my pumping signifies both a wonderful, but also poignant transition. I don't really have "babies" anymore...and holding on to pumping was a way I was holding on to my babies. AND, I truly think there is this little pocket of my soul that was convinced that one day, Felix would ask to nurse again. Part of me feels guilty that I was the one to end the relationship. With healed nipples, it's easier to say, "it wasn't THAT bad!" (I should have taken pictures and a Flip video so I could remind myself that oh yes, it WAS that bad!). There is part of me that wishes at least with one of my children I was able to nurse until 2 years. I guess cumulatively, I got quite a few years under my belt--er, rather, in my bra!

Blah, blah, boo hoo. But--what I find comfort in is that the way life works is that when one special period of life ends, it is replaced with new and equally wonderful experiences! And I am so thankful that I was able to nurse and pump as long as I did for both my boys, and now am so thankful that they are both growing up into fun, loveable additions to our home. Last night I sat at the dinner table as Miles tore around the table saying "HI MOMMY! HI DADDY!" over and over with Felix screeching behind, and just, well, loved life.

And then loved that instead of pumping, I could use my hands for other things. Like knitting. And using the remote to turn on trash like The Bachelor. (I'm hooked.)

But I'll never think of the word "ounce" the same way.

So the focus now is on the joy and luck I had with what was, instead of being hard on myself about what is not.

Calvin and Hobbs (my milk station--TMI?) are retired, and in the span of 2 days, I'm back to being a heartbeat away from being cast as a pre-pubescent boy's stunt double.

But you know what? It's not so bad.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Sneak Peak!

We got our sneak peak of Felix's 1 year photo shoot. I cannot wait for the full album of options! Despite the less than ideal weather, I think there are some good shots. (And yes, Miles will probably have a rainbow lollipop in every photo. Don't mess with a 2 year old who finds candy in the photographer's bag of tricks.)

Link to Danielle's blog and post here. She's amazing! This is our 3rd photo shoot with her, and I have nothing but amazing things to say about her work, and her as an individual. It was even her birthday weekend! (We decided to celebrate and got her a gander of goose from Heifer Project).

What a great way to start the week--pictures of my favorite boys.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Guest Post! The shy and frustrated...

Oh yeah, I'm big time, now. I have a guest poster!

Parenting expert, voice of reason, grand-nanny Mahna supreme. So, maybe it IS my mother...but this woman is my rock, and has given me some of the best advice over my *cough cough* 31 years. I have made no bones about it that I have to work at empathizing with Miles's extreme shyness. I will forever need to work on my sensitivity to his needs and understand what it means to be an introvert. Now, coupled with him really settling into his "tiring twos" stage, I have found myself calling my mom many mornings for that voice of reason to give me the strength to be not a perfect mom, but the best mom I can be. I recently received this e-mail from my mom after a morning filled with a tantrum that when you need to get out of the house by 7:30am, no one has the patience for. (Of course, he was a perfect angel when he was dropped off at school by Eric). I thought it too universally helpful not to share--with her permission, and my editing to remove some non-relevant and identifying information--(ie, don't mind the ellipses sprinkled throughout)

Dear Alison,

I of course had lots of thoughts in the shower about our conversation. (She's a shower thinker, too!) First, please know that when I give you advice and all, that I do not think you should "be perfect" or that I am disparaging how you are handling things. I think you two are doing great. The realization is that there are no parenting techniques that will assure no tantrums or meltdowns. There are just better and worse ways of dealing with them. Felix will have his day at some point, too...You made the astute observation that kids keep pushing until they find those limits, and it's ultimately easier on everyone when parents know to establish firm limits (calmly as possible) sooner rather than later. Again, I wasn't all that good at that when I was a young mother.

Also, with the tantrums, try in the moment to remember that it's intense, intense for the children, but they get over it quickly. It's their unskilled way of coping with overpowering feelings they have. As you so wisely observed, giving into their demands doesn't avoid tantrums because that's not what it is about, so stick to your guns, keep them safe, and remove yourself if you need to. You can say "I love you, but I am too angry to be around you right now." I remember finding refuge in the bathroom back in the day. You are modeling an effective way to handle anger for them even though they don't have the maturity or skill to do the same. The world is a huge and scary place for little children; they don't have much control over most of it, and they are figuring out where the lines are.

I felt close to tears when we were talking about being shy because I can be brought right back 55+ years to the days when I was plagued with shyness...we also did not know about personality traits and all in those days, so I am sure it just seemed like I was being obstreperous rather than grappling with crippling shyness/introversion...I hope that my ability to support you will enable you to cope better than I did...So, try not to fret about the future, and deal with now the best you can which will give Miles the advantage of good modeling to grow and learn from.

I think the less said and done about it, the better, too. He is not even 3, and people should not be judging a little child for not having great social skills at that age. That was one of the things I really admire about [my friend]'s teaching skills. She acknowledges that small children are making their ways in the world, trying to figure it out and looking to us to guide them. She has firm expectations, but she does not expect them to be perfect. As Miles grows, you can model for him and give him the social tools to use in interacting with others. You may even give him a "script" to use, if needed. When Miles is older you may be able to say "That was hard for you," and help him feel proud when he copes with a social situation. Again, I wouldn't do so at this point, because the less he is made to feel self-conscious or shamed about his shyness, the less crippling it will be.

You mentioned how easily Felix handles social situations, and that made me think several is better to celebrate children's positive attributes than to focus on their shortcomings. I think you kids are such remarkable, talented and intelligent human beings, and we have the utmost faith in and admiration for all of you.

Think about it. It's like the old story that if everyone placed a bag of their troubles on a table and examined at them all, we would all pick back up our own problems rather than those of others. Similarly, I know, there were not any other children I would have chosen over you kids, no matter how difficult things might have been at times...try not to take it to heart when they tend to attribute their easy time to their superior parenting skills. Self-righteousness can be irksome. Just hold that knowledge in your heart. Again, would you ever trade anyone else's child for yours?!

Nope! She's right.

I am always here to support you and commiserate with you and admire you. There is a reason people so euphemistically say parenting is the hardest job you will ever love!

I love you so much,

Love you, too...

Friday, February 4, 2011

Virtual Thank You Note

From Big Boy Bed
Okay, so I'm one of those those good "intenders" in terms of producing hand written thank you notes in a timely fashion. And it's great that my kids have now supplied me with endless artwork to transform into homemade notes...but this one is long overdue, and I thought I would be creative and write a blog thank you with pictures. I know the recipient's mom reads this blog, so  J and T, please excuse not only the tardiness, but also the fact that it is type written! (My mom is probably ashamed.)

Dear T,

Thank you so much for my "big boy bed." I love it! In fact, I love it so much, I invite my mom to test it out each morning around 5:50am/6:00am. My mom was worried about the transition, but it transpired without one problem. And I haven't quite realized that I can get out of the bed by myself upon waking, so there is no concern at this point that I will roam the house and make Nutella sandwiches and sneak out to watch Saturday Night Live like my MOM did with her brothers.

I love that it fits right into the perfect corner of my room. And I also love that it is now an ELC hand-me-down. From an "Alum" to you, to me, probably to Felix, and then I hope to pass it along to another ELC friend!
From Big Boy Bed
I ask to have the sheets changed regularly (IKEA has all of 3 colors--white, blue and "rorange") because at night I get "boogies" on the sheets. Okay, and so maybe 2 times I have peed on them. Let me tell you, Mom can change those sheets FAR faster than she can the crib that Felix adopted!

Oh yes, Felix-Thou Shall Not Covet!, Booger Boy!
From Big Boy Bed
He certainly enjoys thinking he is a big boy and jumps on the bed at any opportunity. Luckily, he gives me a little courage to do things like slink off the side, stand up and jump, and wrestle. Sometimes I am a little rough myself and ask for him to be taken off my bed, but I am usually up for a game of WWE each night.
From Big Boy Bed
From Big Boy Bed
From Big Boy Bed
From Big Boy Bed
Remarkably, the favorite toy for crib an big boy bed are the cloth blocks Schlotty made me eons ago. Thanks for the umpteenth time! The bed provides an even better launching pad for the blocks.
From Big Boy Bed
It's the simple things--generosity of one of my best ELC friends--recycling used goods--cuddling with Mommy, Daddy, and Felix--life is good!
From Big Boy Bed
From Big Boy Bed
From Big Boy Bed
Yours Truly,

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Meet my friend Judy...or is it Julie?

First let me wish Felix a Happy Due Date! I didn't even think about it unti I was on my way to work hearing about how the groundhog isn't even going to be able to emerge from the depths of the ground because of the Snowmageddon in the NE. Ah! That's right! I was supposed to deliver Felix February 2nd. Just realizing how much he has changed since January 4th, I cannot imagine how much he would have changed (ie, porked RING OF FIRE TIMES TEN!) in utero. (And if you don't know what the ring of fire is, you've never been to a birthing class.)

Continuing the theme of Miles's cute inarticuletness (is that a word?), we've been having fun joking with him about his new friend Judy.

Or is it Julie?

We cannot tell.

Mum: "Miles, is it JUDY or JULIE?"
Miles: "JULDEEE!"
Mum: "Juldee?"
Miles: "no, JULDEE!"

Umm, okay.

Who is Judy? Why, it's Wilma's daughter, duh!

Truth is, we have no idea who Juldee is. But what we do know is that Miles talks about her from time to time. I've inquired at school. No Judy or Julie. We have no books that we read with that name in it.

Stirrings of an imaginary friend? Perhaps. My brother Nicholas had "Fanfy" and "Bricholas." (Creative genius.) I think Bricholas was the naughty one.

Miles doesn't talk to Juldee, but he just refers to her. And last night laughed and pointed to a character in our Down By The Station book (a woman dressed in safari gear) and called her "Julie." Or "Judy." Or both. I still have no clue.

When we ask him about it, he smirks and thinks it's funny. Like he has a secret, and he is intentionally keeping it from Mommy and Daddy. It's like when we say "Pa-toe" to him and he has that wiley smirk. That is one of those made up words he uses when he talks gibberish. Because he cannot speak quickly and in complete sentences, a lot of the time he will run in from a different room, open the door, peek his head in and say with a smirk:

"Patoe, gogi, doombu, catcho, deka, boe-dy." Or something of the sort. He does it when pretending to talk on the phone, too.

So the running joke is Miles's new girlfriend is named Julie/Judy.

And apparently this morning at breakfast, Miles referred to a new girl, "Wilma." When asked about who she was, he informed Eric that it's "Juldee's Mommy."


I know my kid has got an imagination, but I'm wondering if he is sneaking out of that big boy bed at night and finding his way to Pin-Ups or something.