December Days (And Nights)

Happy 2015 to all. My days of commemorating Christmas in a timely manner and writing an eloquent new year send off are apparently on hold for the time being. But I hope you won't lose patience with me and forget about us. Someday I will be eloquent and timely, but now is not that time.

The kids are back to school after a lovely, noisy, messy, hilarious never-a-dull-moment winter break (what's that you say? You can hear me shrieking with glee all the way from New Jersey?).

Of course I joke. As my dad is fond of saying, "All good things must come to an end." There is only so much familytogetherness and staying up late to watch "Grease" and eating as many M&Ms a little person (and her parents) can take before we all run screaming for 8:00 p.m. bedtimes and wheat grass (probably no wheat grass for the kids).

But before that, there was December. Blissful, hopeful, sparkly, glittery, twinkly, all-wrapped-up in teachers' gifts and homemade chocolate oatmeal cookies and holiday school luncheons and Santa visits and staying in our pajamas all day long. Because we could, December.


This visit to Santa was hard-won. I thought I was so clever to wait until late in the season to take them (less crowds) but we still managed to arrive while the Big Guy was on break. Which meant tacking on an extra fifteen minutes to our wait. Which was totally fine of course since three year olds LOVE to wait in line (said no one never). Also? Super grouchy Santa. Notice how no one is sitting on his lap? Luckily I don't think the kids noticed, but what I noticed is, it's no longer about parking for a spell on Santa's knee and casually chatting with him and telling him what you want. It's about, what size photo package would you like, ma'am? Click. Next. Oh well. We'll still be back next year. I finally got organized and framed all the Santa pics from over the years and it's fun to see the progression (and a little terrifying to see how much bigger everyone is from year to year). I'm big on tradition, even if it does sometimes come with a dose of crabby.


Hanukkah came close to Christmas this year, which is always a treat (although it still snuck up on me as it always does and I was the crazy woman shopping at Target on Hanukkah morning, hysterically throwing "Frozen" socks and Transformers and coloring books and Spiderman tooth brushes in  my cart). Speaking of gifts, the twins also now think that the custom is to get Hanukkah gifts in the morning--due to a combination of their early bedtime and the fact that since they would surely would surely want to play with whatever gift they got, I saved their presents for the morning. Let's just say they caught on to this right quick and it took a full week after Hanukkah was over for Harry to stop greeting me with "I want to go downstairs and get my Hanukkah present" every morning.



This was the first year that big kids lit candles "by their own" (as Lucy would say), and the first year that the twins allowed the candles to stay lit (you may recall last year, when Lucy insisted on singing "Happy Birthday" and was furious when I wouldn't allow her to blow them out). This year Ellie and Leo also came close to memorizing the Hanukkah blessing.


Once upon a time, Leo's school hosted an annual "holiday lunch" for students and parents. It's been a few years since they held one but I was happy to learn it was back on for this year. Harry was already home from school by lunch time so Dudes in Holiday Sweaters, it was.


There were also preschool holiday concerts (with the requisite Santa visit with the suddenly "shy" Lucy).

There were painted Christmas cookies (edible egg wash).

And more cookies.


There were cards sent home from school that made my heart swell and my eyes tear (see above, from Leo): "I love our family." SOB.

Right before Christmas (two days before winter break) Ellie was felled by an atrocious stomach bug (is there such a thing as a non-atrocious stomach bug?) that she was kind enough to give me as an early Christmas gift. This made the last minute Christmas crunch (teacher gifts, wrapping of and delivering of said teacher gifts), shopping, meal prepping quite, um, challenging?


Fortunately, I was much better by Christmas Eve and able to mostly participate in one of my favorite activities, which is staying up late, watching the beloved "It's a Wonderful Life" and wrapping ALL the Christmas presents with Erin. Usually this is accompanied by Bailey's, but with my body still not being at 100 percent, I skipped it this year. I KNOW.


We were busy, busy elves.


Christmas dawned early (as it does every day). Within seconds the living room was a wrapping paper battlefield (note to self: we need a better Unwrap the Christmas Presents System. Anyone have any recs for "big" families and small, impatient children?). The bouche de Noel (see above) didn't fair much better than the presents.


Later in the day, my trusty assistants and I (eager to test-drive new gifts) fetched Chinese takeout (Nobody felt like cooking and I hardly felt like eating so it was perfect).


As night fell, we did something I'm sure no other family in the world did on Christmas (see above). PS., if you didn't know already? Leo IS Elsa (he doesn't allow anyone in the room to speak when he performs "Let it Go" alongside her).


Ellie stayed up late on Christmas night painting (with a new easel and paint set from Grandma Jerry).


Lucy asked to bring "just a few" of her gifts to bed.


Harry fell asleep with one of his favorite presents (that was of course, actually Leo's).


And it was, the Best Christmas Ever.

Looking Back and Laughing: Ears and Donuts Edition

The big kids had the day off on Monday (President's Day). So of course, they played school. By the way, don't let this placid little scene fool you. These moments of calm are few and far between (but I do treasure them). Check out Lucy, who seems to think she's a first grader (shhh, don't tell her the truth).

Certain days, well, you just know they're going to be one of Those Days. One of those days you will look back on and laugh and also think: We made it through. And we managed to laugh a few times and? We even got donuts.

Lucy and Harry had been growing increasingly fussy in the last few days. I'd chalked it up to teething or maybe the cold that had trickled down from one big kid to the next had finally caught up to them. I'll be honest. I don't usually call out the big guns (pediatrician) unless sleep is interfered. By Sunday night, that's exactly what happened. By mid-morning Monday, Lucy and Harry were confirmed miserable human beings: beady, teary red eyes, arms outstretched for almost constant uppy (Lucy), while others stumbled around the house, aimless and frustrated, a slobbery, whiny tangle of drool and fingers (Harry).

I knew it was time to trek to the doctor. This week, among the many things I am grateful for are days off and pediatricians that remain open on legal holidays.

There are a few things in life I try to avoid at all costs and one of them is taking all four children to the doctor. Between the enormous double stroller and the other two kids, oh I get the pity stare. The waiting can be interminable, even with the endless loop of Disney Jr. But Monday? The Waiting Gods smiled upon us. I didn't even get a chance to sit down before the nurse called us into the biggest room they have (we needed it).

Lucy and Harry had immediate, confirmed ear infections (Yay!). I realize that might be a strange reaction but I'll be honest: I'm always a bit relieved when "off" behavior is confirmed and the trip to the doctor is not for nothing. As the doctor stood at the sink writing up the prescriptions, I started packing things up. That's when Leo climbed up on the exam table and demanded a work-up.

"Eh, he has a cold but I think he's fine," I said. "He's old and sturdy."

 Everyone at the pediatrician's office loves Leo (whenever I go in without him, everyone asks for him) including this particular doctor. She set the prescription pad down and went to him, calmly listened to his chest and looked in his ears. It's been over a year since Leo magically shed his doctor fears. The fact that he placidly sits to get his ears inspected (volunteers to do it, even!) still almost takes my breath away, after all those years of tears and getting kicked in the shins trying to restrain him during a simple ENT visit.  I am so proud of him and so very relieved for those difficult days to be behind us.

And then: "He actually has an ear infection too!" the doctor announced.

And the award for Number One Mom goes to...

Of course Ellie stepped up next (she checked out just fine). Hey, three out of four isn't a terrible ratio. I guess? (Although it is a new family record.)*

We gathered our coats and hats and gloves and various stuffed animals and walked toward home in the blinding sun of a bitterly cold February afternoon, the big kids scaling snow drifts leftover from last week's storm.

There's a Dunkin Donuts on the way and I knew there would be a request for it --I immediately said yes (lemons out of lemonade, anyone?), even though the twins were teetering precariously on the edge of nap time. Of course we couldn't make it through a simple donut stop without massive fussing (Hi tired, sick babies!). And since Leo's slow eating is the stuff that legends are made from (I knew he'd be there a while), Ellie and I took the babies outside and parked the stroller in front of the window where Leo was sitting. He finished up his strawberry frosted with sprinkles and we were on our way.


2/3 of the sickies, Monday morning. 

*Edited to add that Ellie woke up this morning complaining of a sore ear so it looks like we are officially four for four. Yesssssssssssss!

Catching-Up

Leo and Ellie are officially addicted to Kidz Bop (Oy--don't ask--think teeny bopper music covers that are SO annoying that they are catchy and you find yourself humming them at all hours of the day and night). One of the songs on repeat contains the lyrics "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" (from the original, by Kelly Clarkson) and, well, sometimes I think if our little circus act had an anthem, that would be it.

I have one word for you. Coxsackie. See Harry's string of drool and grimace in the above photo? Yeah. We barreled through last weekend with as many distractions as possible, with outside play and a walk in the forest but for the most part, the babies were miserable from coxsackie. And you know what they say--when the babies aren't happy? Nobody's happy! (Actually, Leo and Ellie seemed blissfully unaware of all the whining and high fevers and night wakings and general misery--wish I could have been.)

Poor Harry woke up Saturday night absolutely hysterical, thrashing and arching and clearly in pain. Then, he and his eyelashes (see above) passed out.

But. What a difference a few days makes. Within a few days the babies were back to their old selves, cheerful and clear skinned (coxsackie brings an ugly, angry-looking rash).

Lucy's new favorite thing is to snack on a whole strawberry. She sees me getting them out of the fridge and goes nuts. She likes to hold it herself and be completely in control (hmm...wonder where she gets that?).

It came from the cabinet...

Ta Da!

I'm still not used to Harry walking. It's so funny to see this little guy and his miniature Frankenstein-like self staggering all over the house.

A rare moment of not walking.

And this little girl seems close too. She's doing the thing that Harry did, where she stands independently, puts her little arms out to balance (and grins a mile wide as if to say "Look at me! Look at me!") and then promptly plops down. Take your time Lucy. No, really. Take your time.

Uncle. No Really, This Time I Mean It. Also: We Don't Call Him Hair Man For Nothing and Other Observations

Why yes, I do have my hands full. Have I mentioned lately that it's a good thing they're cute?

There's nothing more boring (to me) than posts about sickness, so I will spare you the details of the weekend. I'll just say there was a lot of whining and not enough sleeping (is there ever enough sleeping?) You'd never know it by the above picture but Miss Louie was not her usual chipper self. Teething? Another ear infection? (not as of Friday when we last visited the pediatrician, but only time will tell). I'm at the point where I'm googling "natural ear infection remedies" and "garlic olive oil and infants" (garlic olive oil is reported to help cure ear infection which, something like ninety percent of the time aren't even helped by antibiotics). I'd really like to avoid tubes for Lucy if at all possible.

In other big news, Hair-Man got his first hair cut. Here's the before:

And, after:

And would you get a load of those teeth? Four whole teeth before eleven months! Such an overachiever, that one.

In big kid news, Ellie seems to be enjoying soccer. She runs her little tush off, chasing the ball back and forth--this week she even kicked the ball during the game (it's thirty minutes of practice followed by a thirty minute game). There were also several tissue breaks and one request for the bathroom and by the end of it all she slumps down in her little car seat, head to the side, eyes half closed. She doesn't even have the strength to bark her usual "Mommy can you skip this song" requests (she's quite the backseat d.j.). She's never run this much in her life.

And I have to say I am really enjoying the age of almost five. In the last week or so I've seen an interesting arc of maturity. Oh sure, she's still apt to ask me to open her apple sauce squeezer at the precise moment I'm holding two infant car seats, my purse, two infant lunch boxes and a coat, but she's also offering to help me when I need it. She's opening her eyes more to the world around her. Last night during Lucy's post-dinner, pre-bed meltdown, Ellie asked me if I needed help, without being asked. I told her what I needed and she did exactly what I asked, without protest or whining. I ask the kids for help a lot but I try not to abuse the privalige too much. They're not my little slaves and it's not their fault we have two babies, but we're a big family now and we need to help each other out whenever possible. I don't think that's such a bad lesson to learn.

Ellie has also started trying to translate what the babies are "saying."

"I think Lucy's saying she wants to get up and crawl," Ellie informed me this morning, during a particularly wiggly diaper changing session. "Harry saying he wants you to pick him up," Ellie announced, a few minutes later.

I expected a backlash from Ellie when I went back to work and she went back to full-time "school" but instead she seems to be thriving. Friday morning when we got a late start (the babies were home sick, sigh) she walked around the house aimlessly, fidgety and announced that she "wanted to go to school so she could see her friends."

On the Leo front, we started him back on fish oil. I gave it to him before and can't recall why I stopped--maybe it was when I, oh I don't know, got pregnant with twins or something. It's said to boost mood, improve behavior and cognition and I do remember him benefitting from it. We're giving him a half teaspoon every morning and after a week I am seriously seeing a difference. His energy level is higher (which we did not need--last night he literally ran circles around the minivan)--aside from that little spectacle, it's not a bad kind of energy. He's just boisterous and happy but best of all, generally agreeable. I mean, not all the time (have you met a kid that is?) but I feel like there's been some kind of shift. Less grumbling. Or something.

Maybe I should start taking fish oil?

Astronomy, Second Grade Style. Also: You Give Me Fever

About a month ago, Leo’s teacher sent a note home saying the class was starting a unit on planets and the solar system. The unit would culminate in a presentation in which each child would sing a song about his assigned planet.

Leo had Saturn.

And he took this Planet Business very seriously.

For weeks, "Saturn has great rings, we wondered what they were, now we know they're blocks of ice, which we saw as a blur" (to the tune of "Farmer in the Dell") has been positively reverberating through my head.

It brings to mind this, which is equally, um, memorable?


Leo has been, shall we say, planet-focused. He brought this drawing home from after-care.

I picked this place mat up for him and when I brought it home he was in love. He even insisted on bringing it to school (you may recall his insistence on bringing something to school every day). At first I balked about the place mat but he was so passionate I finally conceded. I mean, it is educational.

So now, at every meal there is an astronomy lesson. And much singing. I can think of worse things.
***

To be filed under You Didn't Expect This To Go Smoothly Did You?, my going back to work coincided with the babies both getting very sick at the same time. Of course. Until last week we had been pretty lucky in that they'd never both been that miserable at the same time. Well. That streak ended with double ear infections x two. (The above shot was obviously taken pre-illness.) I'm chalking it up to new daycare=new germs. Here's hoping they are developing immune systems of steel.

Really Mommy? Not feeling all that photogenic right now.

You can just tell Harry doesn't feel well here. Poor guy. Look at those puffy eyes.The weekend was once again, unseasonably warm, so I took both babies outside for fresh air as much as possible.

Friday afternoon Harry woke up from his naphot. I took his temperature and it was 105 degrees. I know babies can spike fevers but that was scary. I dosed him with ibuprofen and gave him a cool bath. And thus began the cycle that continued for three days. As soon as the ibuprofen wore off, his fever would spike. He's awfully cute in the bath (see above) but the baths are not so cute at 2 a.m. when he kept waking up exactly six hours post ibuprofen with 104+. Lucy never did get the high fever (thank goodness) but they took turns waking up for several nights straight, bringing back a good seventy-hours of newbornesque Up All Night exhaustion.

Things are better now. Eyes are brighter and appetites have returned.

Pfew.

Scenes From a Tuesday: the Confidence and the Pride

So, remember how I was all "Lucy's so whiny."

Look at these giant babies in their big kid stroller waiting at the pediatrician's office yesterday! (Foreshadowing)

Yeah, she has an ear infection. Yes, another one. Sigh. Thanks big kids, for dragging every germ and booger in from the outside world. On the positive side, these babies are building up immune systems of steel, I suppose? Hope?

I have to say, this whole third and fourth kid thing? I don't want to get over confident here but it just feels nice not to worry about every little thing the way I did with #1 and to some extent, #2. Lucy had a cold. It lasted a long time. It didn't seem to be getting any better, in fact it was getting worse. Add in the whining and I finally called the doctor. With #1 I would have likely been at the pediatrician's on the second or third day of said cold.

Even yesterday, when the doctor briefly mentioned tubes (not that they were needed but that we'd have that conversation after a few more ear infections--Lucy's had three) I did nothing but shrug. By the way I thought it a bit ridiculous for the doctor to even mention tubes but I think she did it because she knew I had experience with them (Leo) and I did ask how many ear infections Lucy has had (seems like a lot for someone her age but I remember Ellie seemed to have more than a few early on, too) so maybe she thought that's where my questioning was headed. Oh and don't worry, I'm not too overconfident: I check to make sure they're all still breathing before I go to bed at least once a week.

***

We went to Ellie's favorite indoor playground yesterday (at the mall which depresses the hell out of me but hey, we finished at the doctor and there were still several hours before Leo got home and it was either that or go home and be annoyed by how messy the house felt and fight the War of the TV with Ellie). Sometimes just getting out of the house is half the battle and there we were, four of us out in the world and ready to make the most of a Tuesday.

While Ellie played, the babes and I took in the scene. No popcorn at the refreshment stand so Lucy opted for a cell phone baggy (it came with the big kid stroller) and Harry, an empty breast milk container.

I marveled at how times have changed in just a few short months. Before Christmas we came to this same playground and the babies either slept bundled in their cars seats within the Giant Ridiculous Stroller (Lucy) or nursed (Harry). Now, we're (sort of, almost) getting to the point where where we can go places and I don't need to nurse someone.

After fussing ensued I took both babies out of the stroller (which was a bit of a balancing act and took some thought and imagination, believe me). We took our spot on the carpet and watched the big kids zoom around. Ellie met a little girl named Maya ("that's my mom's name!" I heard her squeal at top volume from across the playground). And then immediately the two girls were at my side with Ellie making the introductions. And just like that, they were off again, playing "Alien." Or something.

I was proud of Ellie yesterday. Well, first I was happy for her. Often when we come to the playground, two things happen:

A) there is no one there but us (the trouble with the suburbs and a not very bustling suburbs I might add, coupled with the fact that we are hearty stock who often go to the park when others would not).

or

B) Ellie is too friendly and frightens all the other children away. Seriously. Ellie, bless her little heart, she tries so hard. Sometimes too hard. She wants to give hugs to people she just met.

But she played it relatively cool yesterday and she and Maya hit it right off and before I knew it they were doing "crazy slides" and concocting that good old game of "Alien" (which seemed to be a variation of "Tag" that also included a lot of pulling on clothes and a bit of wrestling).

But there was a third little girl who was a little younger than Ellie and Maya. I could tell she sort of wanted to play with the girls but wasn't sure how to. She would walk up to them and seem to start to say something and then stop. Maya had no patience for her and kept playing. Ellie would stop and wait a beat and when this younger girl did nothing she shrugged and went on with Maya. Then Third Wheel's Mom did something that I thought was a leetle odd: she approached Ellie and Maya and asked them to play with her daughter. Hmm. OK, not my style but to each her own.

But that's when the pride comes in. Ellie really did try to include this little girl. She would pause before running off with Maya, motion to her, encourage her to climb the slide with them or get in the boat. Mean Girls terrify me and it's one of the things about having daughters (daughters plural? OMG daughters!) that scares me. And believe me, four year olds can be mean. I've seen it already and well, let's nip that in the bud right quick, shall we?

Wherein the Most Relaxing Part of My Week So Far Was the Pediatrician's Office. The Second Trip In One Day. And No I'm Not Kidding

You would think that I, having been Leo's mom for as long as I have, would no longer be capable of being surprised by my boy. But oh, he still shocks me, so often in good and wonderful ways. And I should be ashamed of myself for forgetting this fact.

It might sound strange and unbelievable, but the most relaxing part of today, of the week so far, was the last-minute, late afternoon trip to the pediatrician's office that Leo and I took together.

It all started last night when I sat nursing Harry at Who Knows What Hour and listened to the gravelly wheezes of Lucy in her crib as she slept. Or tried to. Harry didn't sound much better. Their little coughs and rasps have been going on at least a week now and I knew it was time to get them to the doctor. Leo, at seven and a half seems so much sturdier, so I wasn't too worried about his cough. But when the pediatrician pronounced pneumonitis in the twins this morning, I knew it was time to get Leo into the doctor.

Today was one long stream of camp drop-offs and pick-ups and trying to get the babies to sleep and eat "solid" food in between and taking them to the pediatrician. Once I realized Leo should be seen by the doctor too, I told myself that if I had to take all four kids to the doctor by myself at the end of the day (aka Witching Hour) that I might as well buy myself a one-way ticket to Crazy Town while I was at it. So I texted our babysitter. Thank the Lord she was available.

Leo was NOT happy that he didn't get to stay with our beloved babysitter but Ellie and the babies did. He was even less celebratory when we pulled into the parking lot of our pediatrician. The poor guy knew. But we rallied. He found his seat in the waiting room and read books. To himself. By himself. Who is this big kid I have, suddenly, who is too cool to be read to?

In the exam room (where we had a lot of quality time, a good hour while we waited to be seen by the doctor), we joked and chatted and Leo drew pictures. He told me about his day at camp, which included a visit to a local arcade/amusement park where he rode a "big slide" and bumper cars. I'd would have paid money to see that. As much as I think siblings are great, Leo (like most kids I'm sure) is just a different creature when he's just one on one. When I can pour all my attention on him, he's just a sweet little gentleman.

But I'm burying the lead, which is that not only did Leo allow the doctor to listen to his heart and lungs without protest, but he also stood stonily still as the doctor examined his throat and, drum roll please, HIS EARS. Longtime readers will not the enormity of this news. When our doctor suggested he'd like Leo to use an inhaler I squirmed. That didn't sound like something he'd go for. But shame on me, because when the doctor pulled out the inhaler and explained it was something that "pilots use" (it looks a little like the mask you'd use on an airplane in the event that oxygen becomes an "issue"), Leo was all for it and huffed and puffed into that little inhaler like he was born to do it.

Our next stop was the local Mom & Pop pharmacy to fill all three prescriptions (yes, three out of four of the kids are on antibiotics. Oh, the awesomeness). Leo befriended the pharmacy manager. Within a few minutes of our arrival, he had Leo sweeping and straightening shelves. Also there were some high-fives and fist bumping.

When it was time to go, the pharmacy manager walked us out to the car into the cold night. I thanked him and he told me "he had fun too" and that we made his day.

You can't really ask for more than that, can you?

Up next: Conquering the Great Haircut Terrors.

Some Cuteness and It's Too Early For This

Lucy, the Crazy Tongue Wagger. The girl loves her new-found tongue.

Also, Ellie and I both have strep. Harry does not (adding to my list of Things That Are Pathetic: watching a four month old get a strep test). Poor guy didn't know what hit him. He has a raspy, too many Marlboros smoker's cough, which is why the doctor decided to test him. But no strep.

So here I sit again, amongst unfolded clean laundry. Only tonight, I'm too tired and feeling too lousy to even care. So that's progress, I guess.

A Little Whine for Wednesday

Ouch.

It just feels like there is not enough coffee in the world lately. I feel like I've hit some kind of a sleep wall. I can't really figure it out, because the babies aren't sleeping any less than they were before. Suddenly I am just ten times more exhausted than I have been all summer and oops-it's now fall I guess. OK then.

I know it's really blurry but I just couldn't resist. Did someone say fall? Pumpkins?

I keep hearing different things. Six months is the magic mark when the sleep gets better. Or is it four? Since the babies were technically premature, arriving almost a full month early, they're not really almost four months old. Blah blah blah. I know, boring. And it's not like I haven't done this baby/no sleep thing before (although, not with the two babies thing). I know that it gets better. But when you're in the middle of it and your body aches like you have the worst hangover of your life for days and weeks on end? It does not feel like it will get better.

And last night was the season premiere of one of my favorite shows and I (pathetically) looked forward to it a little bit all day. I DVRed it and Erin and I sat down with our little dinner after all the kids were in bed and it felt just a little bit like old times (i.e. pre-babies/aka when I could hope to sort of sleep through the night/finish a sentence without feeling brain dead/wear pants without elastic). And guess what? I couldn't even keep my eyes open. Sleeping for just two hours (which I can usually hope to do once the babies go down for the night between 8 and 9) was more appealing than my favorite show, the show that could almost always put me in a good mood when I needed a little "pick-me-up." Last night? I just found it annoying/like it was trying too hard.

It doesn't help that today dawned especially early. Side note: do the days even begin? They just all seem to blend together lately as days are apt to do when they "end" at 10:30 pm and start up again at 12:30, 2:30, 4:30 (I'm looking at you Harry). But this morning poor Erin had to leave the house at 4:30 (to work an unusually early shift). Leo (in our bed of course) shot up like firecracker when he heard the front door close. "Where's Mama?" he asked, urgently.

And I groaned. I had one baby in my arms in the midst of nursing and the other blessedly (for now) sleeping in the crib. The plan was to get the nursing baby (which one was it, anyway? Like it mattered) back to sleep for at least another hour or two. And I urged Leo to go back to sleep with us. But he would have nothing of it. Thank goodness he managed to amuse himself for the next two hours without me as I crawled back to bed and prayed that he didn't A) escape out of the front or back door (he's recently learned how to use keys in locks, oy) or B) cook himself breakfast ala scrambled eggs on the gas stove (yes, it's been done/attempted by him. Don't ask).

The happy ending here is, my alarm went off at 6:30 and the babies stayed asleep and I went downstairs to find Leo happily playing in the basement and chattering to himself. When he saw me he demanded "Cat in the Hat" and "pizza." I showered him with praise for letting Mommy go back to sleep and I'll let you figure out which request I complied with.

And just in time for all these glorious classes for Ellie, she caught some kind of icky coughing bug that will surely elicit the Bad Mom Stare if we try to go anywhere today. Ellie woke me up in the middle of the night ("I just want my Mommy!" is there anything more pitiful?). I rubbed her back and listened to her seal bark and finally, when I couldn't take it anymore I rifled through the medicine cabinet to find the medication she was prescribed for last year's bout of croup, hoping that it had not turned poisonous in the last fourteen months.

Even when I'm so tired my eyes are watering, it feels good to leave the house. To do something. Yesterday I took Ellie to the mall to get her bangs cut (no more cute short bob for her, she's announced, she wants to "grow pig tails"). We ended up at the mall's indoor playground where we ran into one of Ellie's friends from preschool. Ellie ran around and played and squealed for a good hour and I got to have a bit of adult conversation. But today I think we need to stay in. I'll do my best from keeping Ellie from coughing the plague all over the babies and I'll be putting on another pot of coffee.

Someday, I'm going to miss all of this. This too shall pass, and all of that. But right now? I just need some sleep.

Catch-Up

Just going to jump in here. I hate going long stretches without writing. But enough about that.

So.

We took Ellie to her first play, “Beauty and the Beast” (a musical, but not the Disney version).

Leo, as you’ll recall, is a theater veteran. I’d say it was a success though the production was decidedly low budget and no where near as good as the show Leo and I saw (I swear the beast costume was a fox or a bear—there was absolutely nothing beast-like about him and Erin and I had a good chuckle over “Beauty and the Fox.”) Anyway the kids didn’t seem to mind.

Ellie had her first ballet class last weekend.

No, that blob is not my thumb, it's some dad. They close the door shortly after the lesson begins so that's the best I could do. Ellie is in the center in the black leotard and white tights, the poor dear is the only one without a ballet skirt (don't worry, we rectified that immediately after class).

She has been asking to take a dance class for some time and it's been hard to find one that doesn't conflict with Leo's swimming but I finally found one and felt victorious!

I’m not sure what was more exciting, the class, the new white ballet shoes (here she is getting her ballet shoe "fitting") or the little pink outfit (leotard/skirt combo) I let her pick out from the dance school’s “store.” She pirouetted through the house and took that outfit on and off about seventy five times between Saturday afternoon and Sunday night. And almost every morning since that class, the first words out of her mouth upon waking are "Do I get to go to ballet today?"

If there’s anything cuter than a three year old in a black leotard and white tights, I’m not sure what it is.

Erin had a birthday, I had a birthday and Leo celebrated by getting some kind of very unpleasant stomach virus. He even woke us up at 12:30 a.m. birthday morning to start the festivities. Poor guy. Of course, I had just commented to someone aloud how we’d remained reasonably unscathed this winter (while furiously knocking wood) and of course, wouldn’t you know it. When Leo is sick, his energy level plummets to the point where he is unrecognizable. He’s this eerily agreeable, compliant, passive little person.

Also, he lies on the couch, which is SO not Leo.

Thankfully, he seems to be on the mend, though the stomach thing morphed into a cold.

For my birthday (which fell on a Monday, really, shouldn’t there be a law against Monday birthdays?), Erin made me this which was A-MA-ZING. I threatened to put my face into the entire bowl and just call it a day but I restrained myself.

In Babies News, these two are trucking along and currently weigh an estimated 1 pound, 13 ounces each. That seems huge to me (I mean, at this stage in the game) but what do I know?

Not sure if you can make it out but the sonographer captioned this one "Two Heads Are Better Than One." Awwwww.


Only one baby was feeling particularly photogenic today. This is "Baby B." That's a leg, in front of the face.

A less exciting shot, but don't want anyone to feel left out, I present, "Baby A."


Yesterday when Leo was home sick he and I watched an episode of “Make Room for Multiples” which he was absolutely fascinated by. He’s getting very interested in the belly (which is admittedly, hard to ignore) and has been able to feel some actual kicks. I think he’s still scarred from seeing me suffer from morning sickness, because he’s still talking about the babies making me ill.

He kisses the belly several times a day and then me. Seriously? Leo has the biggest heart of any child I’ve ever known. His empathy and sensitivity is just boundless, it seems. The other night when he was sick and I lay down with him before bed, he pulled me into his chest, holding me, as if I was the one who needed a little extra comfort and care.

Thankful

No question, the highlight of last week (and there weren’t many, trust me, other than we got through it) was the post dinner Beatles dance party on Tuesday night. There was a story on NPR (the supper time soundtrack) about the Beatles finally being released on iTunes. For some reason I decided to play the kids a few songs, which led to one of my all time favorites—“In My Life.” So there was Leo, strumming his soy corn dog stick like a guitar. And there was Ellie, boogying, a la one of the Peanuts Kids.

It was a lovely, silly, sweet transcending moment, amidst a week of work stress and a frantic call from the school nurse to quickly come get a puking Leo. Let’s just say the words “New York” and “New Jersey” and “quickly” should never be used together. Oh and Leo was fine, by the way.

In other news, who doesn’t LOVE a two and a half day work week? Let’s hear it for long holiday weekends!

Speaking of Thanksgiving, last week when I was dropping Ellie off at school in the morning, I spotted her class’ latest Thanksgiving creation (no, not that one up there, though that one is pretty spectacular and offered me a much needed laugh—oops, is it mean to giggle at your kid’s art project?). No, the piece I’m talking about was a simple card with a small, clumsy turkey collage. Underneath, each child had dictated “what they were thankful for.” Ellie’s read:

“I’m thankful for Leo.”

And darn it if I didn’t tear up a little in the pre-k hallway.

Fail

I missed posting yesterday. My first fail of the month. Gah. I'm not even going to get into the excuses because I'm pretty sure no one here really cares how tired I was last night. I'm going to try to post twice today so that will still be "31 for 21," right?


It was another beautiful fall weekend here. Seriously I just want to bottle up these days that are just so bright and clear and mild with just the perfect touch of appropriate chill to the air, the backdrop of everything being glorious changing leaves. I. Love. Fall.

I do not, however, love the raking of those glorious leaves. I managed to rake most of the backyard and then there was a bit of a logjam getting the leaves from our backyard to the curb. See above. Hopefully this year I will get them to the street before the snow arrives.

As I mentioned, Leo was a little under the weather all weekend so he was extra cuddly and at times, a little extra cranky. Sunday afternoon after a busy morning of playing Chuck it with Ruby outside, Leo, Ellie and I piled into bed for some quiet time (since there would be no napping). All I can say is thank you Nick Jr. for the Halloween marathon. It was just what the doctor ordered.

In bed Leo asked for a snack and then announced that he wanted an apple. Since I had just brought him grapes (inhaled in five minutes) and then a banana, I told him he could get his apple. So he disappeared downstairs for a few minutes and returned with not one, but three apples, one for Ellie and one for me too (though neither of us had asked for one). That boy. Even when he's crabby, he's a sweetie.

Thursday Listiness

1. After a long string of muggy days of 90+ temperatures, we finally have a reprieve. Summer came too fast and hard for me this year. I can handle this misery in August because I know that pumpkins and caramel apples and cinnamon candles are just around the corner. In June? The heat just makes me crabby.

Sure, Leo doesn't mind the heat. As long as he doesn't have to actually do anything except of course be, you know, cool.

2. Ellie continues to astound me with her little one-liners (more like six or seven or eight liners, really) and her marquee-worthy personality. I know this is not exactly newsworthy or interesting to probably more than a handful of people but, when your first child doesn’t speak for three years and your second child doesn’t stop speaking, well it’s just remarkable to me on a daily basis. Just as remarkable: Leo's uncanny ability to communicate everything with a limited vocabulary.

3. Case in point: Last week Ellie developed a terrible, three-pack-of-Marlboros a day sounding cough. I kept her home and took her to the pediatrician (the day after an all-nighter where she literally coughed all night, in our bed). I assure you that I brought her into said bed because there was absolutely nothing else to do (I am many things but I am not the Family Bed Mom).

4. Well, she was miserable in her crib and she was miserable in our bed. There was just no comfortable position or destination, it was one of those nights where you really question everything: parenting, the meaning of life, why you ever made any decision..you get the point. As a very wise person once said, "the days are long, but the years are short." But when you're a parent and your kid is sick, the nights, they are the longest.

5. And then she woke Leo up around 1 a.m. with all the hacking and crying and carrying on and then it was truly horrific. But bless little Leo who has become quite the compassionate little Florence Nightingale. At one point when my judgment was truly impaired (what do you want? It was 1:14 a.m.) and we were all in the bed together, Leo tried to pat Ellie on the back in an effort to appease the cough but she roared back at him like a little banshee and would have none of his sympathy. In the end, Ellie and I slept in Leo’s bed and Leo and Erin slept in our bed. Don’t ask. We all (sort of) made it through the night.

6. The next morning, the sun came up and poured through the kitchen window, the coffee was made and its comforting aroma permeated the house. The kids got dressed in crisp t-shirts and shorts and had their faces and hands washed. And all was OK again. Proof that everything truly does look better in the morning. Even when you don't sleep. Much.

7. Ellie has not let us forget the novelty that was the whole “go into your room” experience. The actual cough is long gone but she has developed an excellent fake cough which she dusts off around 8:30 every night when she starts asking to “come to your room. Because I have a cough Mommy.” Hack, hack.


8. There’s been a development in Leo’s language and I can’t say I’m bragging too much about this one. “Bad Dog” has been replaced by “Poopy Head.” Yes it’s true. And as annoying and irritating and ridiculous as it is, I admit I’m a teeny bit impressed. Why? Because really, have you spent time with any typical five year old boys lately? I hate to generalize but I think it’s fair to say that most of them pretty much love anything scatological. Calling someone “poopy head” is in my estimation, about as typical five year old behavior as you can find. If only there was a category for “gross out humor” on Leo’s report card. He’s practically advanced. Ah, my boy.

9. In more Leo news, summer school seems to be off to a good start. The extended year program is through the district and runs the month of July, from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. After that Leo takes spends his afternoons at the daycare/aftercare program where Ellie is (known as "Little School" in our house.) He has the same teacher and aides and I think it's essentially the same program during the school year, just abbreviated. One change is that because of the timing (the bus was coming to the house way too late for me to get to work in time), I've been taking Leo to school myself. It's a small change but I find myself enjoying it. It's more time together in the morning and less time for Leo on the bus. Also, I get to see the teacher and the aides every morning as well as some parents. As a working parent it's hard sometimes, I feel like my kid has this whole other life independent of me that I don't get to be a part of. Don't get me wrong, I like that, but to a point. I was worried about how he would do at drop-off. He used to cry and cling to me when I brought him to school but we've seen a huge shift this year. He still looks disappointed to see me go but he lets me leave without a fight. And so far, (knock on wood) no tears. He's really maturing.

10. Lastly, the new look for the blog. Love it? Hate it?

"Boobies," the Potential End of a Political Future and Live! Nude! Girl!

That got your attention, didn’t it?

It’s been so quiet around here lately! Where is everyone? Have we all succumbed to mid-winter/post holidays/pre-tax refund (or bill-gah!)/malaise?

In any event, I hope everyone is OK.

We are plugging along.

Last night, Leo did. Not. Feel. Well. He whined in agony when I told him it was time to turn off “Yo Gabba Gabba” (damn you Nick Jr. for your uncanny ability to advertise “Coming up next! Dora the Explorer” at the precise moment that I set dinner on the table.)

Sidenote: We are late to the Yo Gabba Gabba party. I put it squarely in the “shows that mesmerize kids to the point that it’s creepy" (is it mind control?) but still, is there anything cuter than Leo, bolting off the couch so that he can join his Yo Gabba buds in their dance moves? I know, I’m biased.

Speaking of Nick Jr., they are currently running a segment on homemade smoothies. They're simple enough to make and I'm already a big smoothie maker, but whenever Leo sees this ad, he comes straight to me and demands, simply: "Boobie."

So I’m choosing to ignore the tell-tale very faint beginnings of some kind of…rash on his face. I’m in complete denial that Leo might have strep. Again. He didn’t eat a bite of dinner last night and I didn’t push the subject (I’ll admit the leftover pizza and frozen fish sticks were not all that appealing but I do think there was something else going on).

After a good five minutes of a pathetic Leo lying silently, tummy down on the love seat, I went to him and held him. I asked him if he wanted to read a book and he agreed. He asked for juice and we read a sing-a-song Sesame Street book and that seemed to perk him up a bit. A few minutes later Ellie padded over to us, cheese pizza crust in hand. An impromptu after dinner (or in Leo’s case, dinner replacement) sing-a-long was born.
***
Upstairs, we sped through bedtime preparation, skipping a bath. I didn’t want to miss the window of tiredness with Leo, though I didn’t think there was much chance for this. At first he refused Tylenol with a stomp of the foot. I didn’t push it, and 30 seconds later he approached me. I honestly think he knew it might make him feel better. He’s getting old enough to know. Or at least I think so.

And then Leo fell asleep on the toilet.

I hope I’m not endangering Leo’s future political career with this news, but it truly was a sight to see.

Meanwhile, Ellie was busy with the constant running dialogue that she provides to life. It’s truly comical: “When I was sick I went to the hospital because I threw up when I ate the cupcake from the bookstore...Mommy you have a boo-boo...I kiss your boo-boo...” (all true, by the way). Leo was in and out of consciousness atop the commode, watching Ellie with humor and bewilderment and a general look of “does she ever shut up?” on his face. (The answer, bless her heart—is No).

"Oh Mommy!" (Looking at my bathrobe) "You have a pink one!"

Once in bed, Leo fell asleep in less than a minute (a new record, I think).

Ellie…did not.

I took a shower. I cleaned up the kitchen. I let the dog in. I let the dog out. I let the dog in. I put away all the laundry (yay me!). I ate two oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and drank a mug of milk. I watched “Life Unexpected” (eh…I like. I don’t love it. But I’m hanging in there. I’m enough of a sap to be patient and to appreciate the sentimentality of it. If nothing else I enjoy (and get a little teary/nostalgic) all the shots of the Portland skyline.

All the while, Ellie sang. Ellie whined. Ellie chatted. Ellie dropped and called out for her “pink bobby” (her word for pacifier, I know, I know, she’s 2 ½ and still sleeps with a pacifier. Shoot me. It makes her happy. I am big on “life is too short, and if it’s not hurting anyone…”).

It was nearly lights out (for me) at 10:30 and the little chanteuse was still going strong. I figured I could just leave her couldn’t resist checking on her.

And sure enough, when I opened her door a sliver. Birthday suit city.

I don’t know what it is with the late night singing and nudity with Ellie. I will say that she’s very cooperative and seems to be in on the joke. She knows exactly what she’s doing. She has been known to fall asleep naked (she wakes up when I try to dress her so it’s better to catch her before she falls asleep).

There was gleeful skipping into the bathroom, there was galloping back to the bedroom for a brief haggling over pajamas (No Mommy! I want the pink ones!). And there was blissful contentedness to be tucked in with two blankies, two bobbies and Cleo.

And then, eerie, miraculous silence.
***
Leo was fine this morning. Granted, he didn't eat his waffle, but he drank his "boobie" with abandon and later ran to the little yellow bus with a spring in his step. Today at least, there was no (feared) call from the school nurse.

And hopefully, tonight will be better than last night. For Leo and the little diva songstress.

Wherein the Three Day Weekend Becomes a Five Day (And It's Not a Good Thing)

I'll spare everyone the gory details of a sick post. Well, it might get a little "sick posty" but I'll try to restrain myself.

Saturday was a great day. We tried to take the kids to the indoor playground I'd been bribing them with all week (Me, to the kids when they weren't cooperating: "If you don't get on the bus/get in the car/put on your coat/fill in the blank/ we can't go to the slide place..." (we call the playground the "Slide Place" because, um, it has slides).

Well there was a last minute birthday party at the freaking Slide Place, so open play was cancelled (OMG the guilt! You should have seen Leo and Ellie's faces when we got all the way there, took our shoes off and we were told no.) That was a low point. But a quick change of plans and we were on our way to their second favorite indoor activity, Barnes & Noble.

We had our requisite cupcakes at the cafe before leaving and...Ellie wokeup from her nap at 5:30 COVERED in cupcake. You know where this is going. At first I thought, Oh well, hey, she did eat an ENTIRE chocholate cupcake. Maybe it was just a case of too much of a good thing.

But she then proceeded to vomit continuously for the next, oh, five hours. Couldn't keep anything down. Not water, not apple juice, not Gatorade. And her pathetic pleas for "more appa jews" were beyond pitiful. We'd called the pediatrician since the vomiting was really non-stop. And after five hours of it, he said we should take her to the emergency room for probable IV fluids.

Well that was not something I need to again for a long time. The tiny IV "cast" the finding of the teeny vein, the holding down of pathetically weak toddler who doesn't have much strength to fight the IV.

But hey, we were home by 4 a.m.
***
Sunday and Monday we took it easy (obviously). Leo had been acting not quite himself all weekend, a touch less, shall we say, exuberant? He'd been downright cuddly on Saturday night. In fact, while Ellie vomited in my lap, Leo was literally snoring at Erin's side on the couch. And then Monday afternoon I noticed a little rash on Leo's face. And I knew the minute I saw it that it was strep. He had the same rash last spring when we all rode the strep merry-go-round (I think we all had it at least twice, except for Ellie who only got it once).

And then Monday night was a rough night for Leo. He woke up wailing around 2 a.m. Horrible cough. Sidenote: I am obviously failing miserably at making this not be a sick post.

Tuesday morning Leo was full blown Strep Pizza Face. By noon, we'd seen the pediatrician (lucked out with an early appointment) and had our confirmed diagnosis (duh! Can you believe the ped doubted me? Yes we saw my not favorite one, the one I keep meaning to ask that we don't see--she cringed when Leo hugged her, you know, he was all strep germy and everything).

And did I mention poor Erin is sick too? Strep and a DOUBLE ear infection, which should just be illegal for grown-ups to get. So she had an incredibly restful sick day (note sarcasm) with quarter hourly calls from work and the non-stop needs of the two hooligans.

And in the midst of all of this, I have a touch of something too. Would not be surprised if it was strep--I'll go to my office clinic when/if I ever go back to work (kidding). If there is anything less fun than being a mom when you're sick, let me know what it is and I'll make sure to never do it.

Poor, sweet Leo. The guy just got over adenoid surgery (done to preven chronic sinusitus, so of course it makes sense he would immediately get strep--gah!). He can't catch a break. But through all of it, he is really mostly a sweetie. The irony is, a sick Leo is a slightly subdued Leo, which is definitely easier.

Yesterday he was actually lying down on the exam table at the ped's office. Yea...SO not normal. He is just so grateful, for the littlest things. On the way to the car at the ped's office there's a little coffee kiosk that sells fruit and juice and candy. Of course Ellie demanded M&Ms. Leo spotted the watermelon and asked for that. He loves watermelon and I thought, January, watermelon? Why not? What wouldn't taste better with a sore throat?

So while we waited in the parking lot for the antibiotic to be filled (I love you Walgreens Pharmacy Drive-Thru), Leo ate watermelon and said "Day-Yoo Dee-Dee." (Thank you Mommy). Ellie didn't press too hard for those M&Ms and was happy with her orange juice and Pirate Booty.

Last night, all three of us exhausted and short tempered, we read (against my better judgement because it's hardly the "soothing" bedtime book) "The Hokey Pokey," and the two little squirmy, chatty people put their right hands in and left legs out. They dissolved into a pile of giggles, ended only when I had to prevent Leo from sticking his streppy fingers too close to Ellie's mouth. And I thought to myself, yea, the puking and gnarly face rash, and the choking down of antibiotics and the missed work and the pediatrician co-pays, all of it is a real drag.

And it's all going to be over much to soon.

From the Offices of Granola, Holiday Mix and Oatmeal Cookie Central and "Uppy Uppy Uppy" and also: SNOW

You may have heard that it snowed. Why, yes it did.

We built a snow man. Leo was beyond excited…

even though our snow man was more like a snow bump. Or snow lump.
He didn’t mind. There was plenty of snow-at least a foot, but it was so powdery. Just not snow man snow.

It sounds corny I know, but it warms my heart how much joy Leo gets from the tiniest things, like a snow man/bump/lump. He is the eternal optimist and has the sweetest little soul. I just have to remind myself of this fact when he crawls into the back of the minivan and laughs at me and refuses to get into his car seat and I want to strangle him.

Here's an illustration: This is Leo doing his homework on Sunday night. The happiest little boy to do homework ever.

And, the fruits of my labors, otherwise known as “how I spent my Saturday before Christmas.”

These are just some of the homemade goodies for the many teachers, therapists, aides and bus drivers in our life. There are about twenty more bags that just didn't make it in the photo.

I admit, I got a little crabby and manic during the whole process. I kept thinking to myself, so THIS is why people give gift cards! But now that all the little baggies are stuffed and the labels are made and the ribbons are tied and the cards are written, it feels worth it.

And re. Miss Uppy Uppy Uppy, Ellie still seems under the weather. She took three hour naps both Saturday and Sunday but was up at 6 a.m. and in our bed this morning, which is never a good sign. And her new favorite phrase is “I want to go to your room.” Poor Noodle.

This morning when I left her in tears at daycare I told her we just had to get through one more day. Tomorrow is her holiday concert at the daycare (I’ll be bringing my tissues for that one) and it’s also surgery eve, as Leo goes in for new ear tubes and his adenoidectomy on the 23rd.

Tomorrow was going to be my one day to do everything I needed to do before spending the next twelve days straight with all kids all the time (I'm off work for almost two weeks--notice how I do not call it a "vacation"), but alas, it looks like I will have a partner in crime as I clean the house and finish up with the last minute Christmas and grocery shopping.

I can think of worse things.

Sick Kids and Broken Sumps Pumps, Alternatively Titled: It's FUN to Be a Grown-Up!

You know it's bad when your kid's teacher calls and suggests that perhaps you should keep your kid home the next day. Apparently Leo spent all of Thursday hacking all over everyone, not eating his lunch, yawning and just being generally miserable. By the time she called me (early afternoon) she conceeded it would be too late for me to get him before the school day ended. And so I scrambled at work trying to make arrangements for today. And Ellie could use a day off too. She still sounds like the Marlboro Man.

And because the last hour of my day at work wasn't stressful enough--trying to finish three stories in an hour and delegate my work for the next day (and did I mention today is my holiday work party? That I am missing FREE margaritas?). Seriously. Anyway, as I was saying, if that end of the day stress wasn't enough (because if I don't leave by a certain time then I miss my bus and I'm late picking up my kids, my kids who are already the LAST kids to get picked up). It's like a gigantic domino set, the whole schedule thing. If one thing falls, they all do.

And then, home to the sump pump alarm which had been going off all day and night which I think Erin and I had sort of been hoping would just "heal" itself.

For those of you who don't have the pleasure, in layman's terms, a sump pump keeps your basement dry. Northern New Jersey, where we live, is prone to flooding. Big, major, awful, thousands of dollars flooding. And so we have a sump pump. Well, did you know sump pump batteries die? I didn't. And did you know that when you buy a replacement battery, you also have to buy BATTERY ACID to pour in that new battery?

Lucky Erin got to tromp out in the 22 degree wind storm last night to good old Home Depot to buy the goods, which included yes, a box of freaking battery acid. We worked together to pour it into the new battery and shortly before midnight (yawn) we were back in the working sump pump business. Pfew.
***
And so today instead of free margaritas and co-worker gossip I am taking Ellie in for her follow-up wheezing exam (please no nebulizer, please) and will throw Leo in for good measure (to be checked out by the ped for his horrendous cough). And if that wasn't fun enough (two sick kids to the ped), let's also go to the ENT! He had asked that I call him the next time Leo is "junky" so he can properly check out the adnoids. All I can say is this procedure involves a numbing spray and something (a tube? a scope? going up the nose or down the throat or something equally awful). Leo is going to LOVE that. I mean really, kill me now, OK?

We WILL be stopping off at the wine shop on the way home.

Unbeknownst to Leo there is numbing spray in his immediate future (don't ask me how I'm going to swing that ENT apointment with both the kids since Leo's going to need some serious restraints) but for now, Leo is a happy clam, sitting on the couch watching "Dora's Christmas Carol" for the seventy-millionth time. He's doing his second favorite thing in the world, eating scrambled eggs. Sure it's technically a sick day, but at our house, we call this, falling into a barrel of schmaltz.*

*I believe this is Yiddish for swimming in chicken fat, which at one time was considered a delicacy. I know, I know, kind of gross. It was something my grandma and mom said when someone was really, really happy. At least, for the moment.

Of Visitors and Nebulizers and Snow Man! and Soy Corn Dogs for Snow Suits

Busy times. You’d think I’d completed all my holiday shopping or better still, that I’d been busy crafting or making everything by hand.

Um, no.

First the good. My wonderful friend Jennifer (mom to the adorable Lily, one of Leo’s many prospective future fiancees) came from Portland for a long weekend. Thanks to my incredible partner, I came and went from home as I pleased, shirked pretty much all domestic and kid-related responsibilities and played New York City tourist with Jennifer all weekend.

We spent our days admiring the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, gazed at the holidays windows of Sak’s and Bergdorff’s, watched skaters twirl and fall at the exquisite skating rink at Bryant Park.

We walked about eighty blocks in one day, from Times Square to the tony shops on Fifth Avenue to the Plaza Hotel to SoHo, where we finally collapsed at a really bad bar for some extremely weak drinks (trust me, I’m an expert). Saturday we “did” suburbia. The Short Hills Mall, Target, my favorite kid’s resale shop. There was a delicious home cooked meal (thanks Sweetie), scallops sauteed with tomatoes and Brussels sprouts. And wine. Lots of wine.

Meanwhile, Ellie had a nasty, two-pack-of-Marlboros-a-day-sounding-cough all weekend (yes, while I was out shopping and boozing it up, you can go ahead and say it). Monday morning I just knew if Ellie went to daycare that I would inevitably get the call. I kept her home and although she sounded pathetic, she was in good spirits. An afternoon appointment with the pediatrician (because everything might be swine flu, I admit it, I’m a little paranoid) found some wheezing, which the doctor did not like. She assured me on the continuum of wheezing it was very slight, but still, I guess they don’t play around with two-year-olds and breathing problems, which is fine with me.

Probably no surprise that Ellie did not enjoy the nebulizer treatment, which involves a creepy looking mask and a mysterious, smokey looking medicine wafting through said, mask. There were tears and tears and many tissues and a hysterical crying I haven't heard since the newborn days. I’d like to make a public thank you to that poor nurse who helped me hold Ellie down while we tortured her with the nebulizer, for she had the pleasure of hearing me perform “Old McDonald,” “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” “I’m a Little Teapot”…anything to appease a shaken and miserable Ellie.

The doctor sent us away with a prescription for an inhaler and an exorbitantly expensive “pediatric mask” that goes with the inhaler—and of course it wasn’t covered by insurance—why would it be? It is, after all, deemed “medical equipment” (cause most people buy “medical equipment” for fun).
***
In happier news, last night Leo said a new word: “Snow man.” He seems to be in the midst of a vocabulary explosion, lot of new words and better pronunciation of existing words. He now says a pretty clear “thank you,” as opposed to the old “day,” which seemed to be his version of “thanks.”

And this morning. One of those mornings in which by the time I get to work I feel like I’ve put in a full day already. As I looked out the dark window at 5:55 a.m. (thanks, Leo) while the slushy, snowy, freezing rain mixture pounded away, I contemplated if there would even be an open daycare to take Ellie to or if Leo would have school (the two are related since the daycare just announced it would close when our town’s schools close—cue me having a panic attack about his news but that’s a whole other conversation).

It took bribery with a soy corn dog (Leo’s idea, trust me) to get Leo into his snowsuit. Then Ellie was up and she took one look at Leo in his winter finery and demanded “snowsuit and hot dog!”

Two words probably not commonly associated with each other, which means, totally normal in our house.

Aargh, Oy, Heavens to Betsy and a Note From the Teacher No Parent Wants to Get

I don't even know where to begin. I've started about fifty posts in my head in the last week but not one has actually become something.

Everyone is slowly on the mend from their various sicknesses (I guess, knock wood). But yesterday morning started with a bang and the hits just kept up on coming. Then there was the call that came later in the day from daycare to come pick Ellie up and the trip to the doctor (with both kids, always fun) to see if she had pink eye (she didn't). But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Ellie awoke at 5:30 a.m. which is code for I Don't Feel Well And Should Probably Stay Home From Daycare (she's normally the teenage sleeper of the house--I wake her booty up at 7:30 almost daily).

Staying home with a little sniffly cutie would have been all well and good except I had a BIG work deadline looming. And honestly, aside from the runny nose and sort of watery eyes, she was fine. Once she woke up and moved around a little and had something to eat and drink, she was in good spirits, her usual chatty, jokey, semi-cooperative self.

So yesterday morning was the usual flurry of ridiculous activity when both kids wake up early. There was me upstairs, speeding to get ready while Leo and Ellie were parked in front of "Sesame Street." Leo protests whenever I put it on (he apparently thinks he's too cool for it) but almost immediately gets sucked into it once a cute Muppet or two appears. Poor Ellie rarely gets to watch it so I try to sneak it in for her at least once a week. I mean, someone has to teach that girl to read, right? (joke).

It was sweet, because Leo knows Ellie loves Elmo. As soon as an Elmo segment came on, Leo called to Ellie, "Ey-yie! Ey-yie! Elmo! Elmo!" and pointed at the screen with excitement, as if she wasn't sitting right there watching the exact same thing he was. But she patiently and enthusiastically received his order to Enjoy Elmo: "Yea Leo, yea. Elmo."

Meanwhile, as I was doing my hair (sounds way more complicated than it is, trust me) I heard Leo calling something to me from the bottom of the stairs, a breakfast request I was pretty sure. It sounded like "duh-duh" which could mean a lot of things--pancakes or French toast, most likely.

When I got downstairs I realized what Leo had been saying, for there on the coffee table in the living room sat a Trader Joe's mini cheese pizza, still in the wrapper but out of the box. This means he had taken a chair, scooted it up to the refrigerator and found his desired meal.

It was barely 6 a.m. but my first reaction to frozen cheese pizza for breakfast was Why the Hell Not? I mean, whatever gets you through the morning, right?

The best part of the Leo Frozen Pizza Incident was that later in the morning when I grabbed a box of tissues from the shelf where we keep the paper recycling, I realized that Leo had actually taken the pizza box and had the forethought to put it in the paper recycling bin! My little environmentalist.

And also, my little bully, apparently.

How's that for a segue? Yesterday I received a note from Leo's teacher in his communication book:

"Two days in a row Leo has taken the glasses of another child at recess and thrown them in the bushes. He has been spoken to about this and asked to apologize, which he has. Yesterday he lost "Center" [free-play] privileges, tomorrow he'll have to sit out recess. Please discuss this with him at home and let him know this is not acceptable behavior."

Not acceptable behavior? I'll say! Where's my hugging teddy bear boy (that's what Leo's pediatrician calls him--I love our doctor but he is definitely the type to say things like "Downs kids are so sweet and cuddly)? Where's my guy who is the first to rush to the aid of his crying classmate (true story, from several past teachers and even his current one, well, before the Throwing Glasses Incidents of 2009).

We've definitely been noticing some increased aggression coming from Leo. We had a good stretch there for a while with the sibling rivalry. It seemed that Ellie's talking and ability to "bargain" with Leo was making things better and less, well, violent. But now, we seemed to have turned another corner. Ellie is getting bigger and her vocabulary is exploding and she is more and more of a "threat" to Leo and his things every day (at least that's how I perceive how it might be for him).

There's been way more pushing and shoving and yes, a return of the growling. And he's even started hitting me a bit. There are apologies and time-outs and then two minutes later the behavior is repeated.

Of course I wrote back to the teacher about my embarrassment and concern and general horror at the whole glasses/recess event. I told her I was open to suggestions on how we might handle Leo's not so welcome new "tricks."

Gah. Not good.

The Happiest Sick Person I Know

Leo zoomed into the pediatrician’s office going about twenty miles per hour this morning. He headed straight past the “Not So Well” sign (the office has a “well” and a “sick” room, god bless ‘em) and dove headfirst into the pile of books. Yeah, he looked really ill.

All the office ladies greeted him enthusiastically, along with my favorite nurse practitioner. Whenever we go to the pediatrician’s, the whole crew has to check in with Leo. It’s pretty sweet. Leo’s the guy who screams like he’s being tortured whether it’s an ear exam or a flu shot, but he’s also the guy who hugs the bearer of the otoscope or the giver of the shot, the second any “procedure” is over. He can’t help himself.

The school nurse called me yesterday morning as I was headed into work. I saw the number on my caller ID and my heart sank. It’s too soon to be getting sick calls—it’s only week two of school. She explained Leo’s teacher was concerned about the amount of, er, “secretions” coming from his nose. It’s true. Leo’s had a horrific runny nose going on a few weeks now. He’s cheerful in spite of it and seems fine otherwise, so I haven’t wanted to run to the doctor to get prescribed a dreaded antibiotic. I’d hoped this little bug would work itself out but alas, it didn’t seem to be doing that.

I vowed to call Leo’s doctor and made an appointment for the next morning, which was today.

Sure enough, the verdict was bacterial sinus infection. The doctor took his time examining Leo though of course he did not make it easy. His chest was perfectly clear, and the doctor told me that pneumonia can be difficult to diagnose in people with Down syndrome, something about the low tone masking it? He also said it’s important to treat sinus infections quickly so that they don’t spread to the nasal bone. Yikes and also, geesh. But he said Leo was in no danger and we definitely caught it in time. Great, another thing to add to my list of medical paranoia.

The doctor asked me if we’d ever considered an adnoidectomy (Leo does seem to get 2-3 of these sorts of infections every winter and September seems a bit early to be starting). We agreed to keep an eye on things. I’m certainly in no hurry to rush him into surgery, especially since he seems to have finally graduated from his need of the ear tubes (knock on wood).

Feeling a little panicky with all the talk of “infection spreading to the bone,” I chose to fill the prescription this morning and give Leo a dose before I took him to school. Can I just pause to marvel at the wonder of antibiotics? Every time I get sick and am prescribed one (which thankfully isn’t often except for my three-time run at strep throat this spring, yay!) I am amazed at how quickly I start to feel better.

Leo was angel at the pharmacy. I try to support our neighborhood, independent pharmacy whenever I can (you may recall one especially touching time last winter when the pharmacist took pity on me with my two sick, sleeping children in the car and not only came out to my car to take my credit card but also hand delivered the medicine to me while I waited with the kids-yes my heart was warmed and a permanent customer was made).

Today the pharmacist even commented on how good Leo was: “Sometimes when kids come in here they just run all over,” he chuckled.

And that used to be Leo, a lot. Running around, not listening. And it certainly can still be. But today Leo was content to sit in the waiting area with the little muffin I bought him at the coffee shop by the ped’s office. I am noticing so many good things with Leo lately. He is more willing to hold my hand, less prone to bolting. I’m not so hesitant to run simple errands with him the way I used to be. Of course, all of this is also a heck of a lot easier when it’s just the two of us (Ellie was at daycare).

And much to my surprise, he didn’t even freak out when I took him to school. There were no tears and just a brief “collapsing into a limp noodle” incident, which he did every time I took him to school late last year and the year before. He did need a bit of cajoling from one of his classmates. Little Terry came out to the hall to greet Leo, who stood, back against the cold, tiled wall, hands over his eyes (‘cause you know, if he can’t see us we can’t see him). It took Leo less than a minute to go into his classroom where he took off his coat, put his backpack away. I’d visited the class before but that was before Leo was a student there. Before he was, you know, a real, live kindergartner. This is the first time I’ve seen Leo there in action.

When I left him he was sitting at his little desk, perched over his notebook intently and preparing to start a writing assignment. He didn’t even look back at me, didn’t even seem to notice I was leaving.

I know, it's only week two at the new school, but I think he’s really happy where he is. Sinus infection, take that.