technicalities

This is not terrible twos anymore. We are so near the land of the 3-year-old...new reasoning skills and all.

Case in point:

Henry requests some milk for supper.
George asks, "Is this your cup?"
Henry replies, "No. It's a mug."
George tries again, "Is this your mug?"
Henry responds, "No, it's your mug."  (true, the Massachusetts mug does belong to Papa).
This prompts George to ask, "Do you want to use it?"
Henry: "yeah."

Two guys

There's a saying that's repeated at our house. Two guys.

Henry might request "hold me, two guys" when he wants to also get a ride somewhere (like Grant). Or if we're horseplaying, it's "two guys" or cuddling in bed "two guys" (even a little playmate friend repeats the phrase "two guys" when there is car action and vigorous play).

So this is "two guys" in jammies.

Sleep, cont'd

Sure, he's sleeping peacefully now. Now that he's squeezed everyone else out of bed. Papa's pillow is comfy.

7 months old

and SO busy.

After months and months of struggling without much sleep, and crabby baby issues related to who knows what (teeth, colds, new foods, milestones, you NAME it). I have many theories, which only lead to further frustration when Grant doesn't comply with these theories. We have had our first "sleep thru the night" -- to bed at 7pm, up at 11pm for a nursing snack, slept til 5am. FINALLY!  So that's roughly 7 months, 1 week and 3 days of getting up several times per night.

I know it might not occur regularly, but it was enough light at the end of the tunnel to provide an exhausted and grouchy mom HOPE that one day I will sleep again.

Now if only Henry would stay in his bed all night...

Got Snow?

Yes. We do.

And ice.
And a new Subaru. I LOVE the way it handles.
We are sure to get Henry back and forth to preschool safe and sound, so that I may have a few moments of quiet each week.

Winter in Wisconsin is hitting us hard already this season.
I am wearing my long underwear, we are having hot breakfast, and we're snuggling together enjoying the lights on our Christmas tree.
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. (except in two weeks when we want to travel by car and plane...) that would be a good time for a snow hiatus.

It's Wintertime!

The Leydon family with 2010's Christmas tree.

Despite the calendar date, it is, in fact, wintertime here in Madison. Henry is really starting to grasp the idea of seasons, and what occurs with each.  So when we experienced our first real snowfall of the season over the weekend, he continually exclaimed "It's Wintertime!". There was so much excitement and joy at looking out the window at our world transformed. Henry was like a new puppy. Diving in, rolling around, and even licking it. If you can remember the show "Duck Tales" with Scrooge McDuck enjoying his piles of money, that's about how enthusiastic Henry was in the snow.

This is what I'm clinging to as I continue to experience a real "bah humbug" attitude throughout our season of Advent. The pressure of Christmas lists, the frustration of trying to even get out to the stores with two little ones, and the battle between Christmas secular and the true meaning, have all got my spirits dampened. My lack of sleep psychosis has magnified all of these feelings. So there are a few simple moments that I'm trying to keep in the front of my mind as I struggle to figure out how we're going to get the tree up (and keep it up, with Grant into everything) and prepare our household for the Christmas season (which, in fact, is the twelve days AFTER December 25th).

One of them is hearing Henry's excited squeals for fresh snow and being able to spend a little time sledding, just Mommy and Henry, down what is becoming my favorite winter place in Madison. The BIG hill in Warner park.

The other is remembering that Christmas is about children. Not just the joy of gifts on Christmas morning, but keeping in mind that their presence is hope for the future. That God's gift was a child. God made human, God with us (Emmanuel). And I remain humbled that some people aren't as easily blessed with children as we are.

I absolutely love our parish here in Madison. I've been trying to take full advantage of their gracious services to young parents. On Sunday, going to church with the two boys by myself would not have been possible if it wasn't for the nursery. And afterwards, we've begun the tradition of staying for coffee and donuts (given that the nursery is right next to this event, it's practically impossible to get Henry out the door without one). And this Sunday, even though I was reveling in the message that a fellow parishioner shared about her prayer life with a young family, I was caught off guard when Henry (unprompted) prayed over his donut before digging in.

Bless us, O Lord
And these thy gifts
Which we are about to receive
From thy bounty
Through Christ, Our Lord.
Amen.

The Good Ol' Days are Gone

I'd like to begin with a side note about children's books. There are some good ones, some not so good ones, and some that are questionable at best. Anyone who has ever been to the library with small children knows you don't do any reading there. I spend the majority of my time making sure Henry isn't in the plants, behind the fishtank, running out the door, or any other thing that would give me an eyebrow raising from the librarian.

In this pressure situation, my tactic is to look first for books with cars or trucks, knowing this is a subject near and dear to Henry's heart. Otherwise, I settle for any other theme (new baby, closest holiday, pets, etc.) and any combination of these popular themes is a bonus. Second, I open it up and glance through to see how many words there are per page (we need to maximize the short attention span). Most of Henry's reading time is before bed, which means that George is then subjected to the new batch of books. Apparently tonight's Christmas theme choices were odd, at best. One story tonight entitled "The Christmas Train", involved a little girl warning a train on the tracks about a rock fall ahead. She does this, of course, by dragging her Christmas tree, ornaments and all, out of her house, down the track, 400 yards, through the tunnel, to light it on fire.

The other book tonight was about the "New Baby Blues". I'm still trying to expose Henry to books about siblings, in the hopes that transitions become easier. Grant's new crawling and pulling up on everything skills have Henry a little freaked out about the sudden forced sharing of every toy he owns.  I'm also a little freaked at how physical Henry gets when Grant gets dangerously close to said toys, and tables get turned over onto his head in anger, frustration, or general big brother maliciousness.  This book's message is a little bit of a tough love approach and the last line of the book is "The Good Ol' Days are Gone".

Sounds about right.

 

Thanksgiving

From t-giving 2010

First Thanksgiving for the 2010 babies.  One for the record books.

We had a real "National Lampoon's" type of Thanksgiving.  For one thing, almost ALL the men in our family (Grandpa, Uncle Stevie, and George) had to work at least part, if not all, of the extended holiday weekend. So Grandma, Jessica (a little dog named Clover), two small boys, and I packed into the car to visit the Sanfords in Michigan. For a sleepless, weekend together, when misery loves company and a stomach bug, kind of holiday.

Grant is not known for being a great sleeper, but this time his nighttime antics were joined by a niece making trips to the bathroom due to the stomach flu, a dog being let outside to bark at squirrels, a small boy with cold feet, and someone who snores. It will be a while before the image of people sitting around the table with coffee mugs and baggy eyes escapes my memory.

A holiday like this one makes us truly thankful for our health...and sleeping babies.