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.

Bye Bye Hanukkah, Hello Weekend and Princess Enabling

Poor Ellie. This was so not the Hanukkah picture I was going for. Tonight is the last night though, so the pressure is on to, um, document it a little better than this. We'll see how it goes.

Back to poor Ellie. And Leo. What a week it's been. The weekend couldn’t come soon enough, for any of us. Last night, thanks to traffic from an accident on the way home, good old daycare pickup was at 8 p.m. They had to make my children grilled cheese sandwiches. Sorry, but I don't usually plan on having them there until after bedtime. Ugh. And yup, cue the mom guilt. I know it’s no one’s fault and this kind of thing is rare (has only happened one other time since September) and they will have no memory of this (I hope) but still, it is a long, long day for two little people and I can't help but think it takes its toll. And so I feel guilty. And I know, I know, guilt might just be the most useless emotion out there, but it’s also so easy to go there! And so hard to resist it.

I let Ellie sleep as late as I could this morning (not an option with Leo-our little rooster is up by 5 a.m. most mornings, sigh) and was prepared for more tears at drop-off since I knew she was tired and is still fighting that cough, but she actually smiled and squealed when we pulled up to daycare this morning, saying "there's my school!" It's heartwarming and humbling how resilient children are.

We have a mellow weekend planned, well as mellow as a weekend could be when it involves baking about six dozen cookies, and making about five pounds of Leo and Ellie’s Famous Holiday Mix (it’s not as hard as it sounds, it’s basically Chex Mix with red and green M&M’s) and compiling all of that into the requisite cute and appropriately decorated containers as gifts for the village of teachers and therapists. I know gift cards are what they really want and what everyone is saying we're "supposed" to get them but we just can't swing it this year.

Basically, it’s the calm before the (good) storm and the next holiday and the next round of relatives (Hi Grandpa! Hi Grandma! (they arrive from Oregon for five days on Dec. 26).

And speaking of storm, did someone say snow? Up to ten inches are possible in New York City and probably even more in our parts. Leo’s played in the snow before but last winter Ellie was still too little to really enjoy it. A few weeks ago we got a dusting and she was giddy, so I can only imagine what a real snowfall will make her do. I have to say, as long as I can get to the store tonight to finish up all my baking supply shopping, I wouldn’t mind being snowbound for a day or two.

Or the whole storm could just totally blow over and be nothing. You know the way things can go with these “Winter Storm Warnings.”

In other news, this little item just fell into my lap for Ellie (and to be fair, Leo will love it and I'm sure fight Ellie for it).

Just, I know, don’t ask.

As much as it pains me and goes against almost everything I stand for, I’m going to go ahead and give it to Ellie for Christmas/Hanukkah/whatever. All the princess crap just grosses me out but I fear that the more I fight it the more she’ll want it. It will be like my cousins who were denied sugar at home and so went on sugar binges at friends’ houses. I don’t want poor Ellie to feel the need to princess binge.

Breaking News

The best report card ever for Leo arrived today.

From his speech therapist:

"Leo is developing a sophisticated sense of humor."

It brought tears to my eyes. I've always felt you have to be smart to have a sense of humor. I know plenty of people with 46 chromosomes who lack the ability to laugh at the world, to be clever. I haven't doubted Leo's intelligence for a long time, and I certainly don't need to have someone else tell me how funny Leo is. I live it every day, but still. It's always nice to hear it from someone else.

I am so proud of my guy.

Five for the Fifth

An inappropriate photo for a Hanukkah themed post. They love their $1 Target Santa hats. Sorry but I couldn't resist.

Why, hello!

Finally, a moment to touch the stone here.

Tonight is the fifth night (I think, right? It's strangely confusing to figure out) of Hanukkah, so here are five bullets:

1. The results of Friday’s ENT visit are that as an early Christmas (we celebrate that one too in our house) present, Leo will be getting a new set of tubes and saying goodbye to his adenoids on December 23. Yup, Merry Christmas Leo! Sorry, guy, but hopefully it will greatly improve his health and reduce the amount of antibiotic treatments. I think we’re on round number three in the last four months…not good.

2. The ENT appointment was not as bad as I had expected although I think my thighs are still sore from clenching them to hold Leo’s legs and prevent him from kicking our dear doctor where the sun don’t shine. And I’m sure Leo with his nasal cavity numbing spray and the tube with the light on the end of it but have a different opinion of how bad the appointment was. Luckily Ellie’s view of the whole procedure was blocked by the doctor so hopefully all that Leo screaming won’t traumatize her for life (don’t ask me what it will do to Leo).

3. The kids are really enjoying lighting the menorah this year. Leo calls it “dora” and the first night Ellie called it “birthday candles.” Last night the kids got their first gift (hey they don’t know that some kids get a gift every night and we plan on drawing out that innocence as long as possible). Upon opening, they swooped around the house appropriately.

4. Leo’s teacher is Jewish and I think she’s definitely pushing Hanukkah more than teachers in the past have. I know that this week they’re learning about Kwanzaa though so maybe they’re just actually giving the holidays equal treatment for a change. I’ve lived on the East coast for about ten years now and it still shocks me a little that I don’t feel like an alien because I celebrate Hanukkah. People actually put menorahs in their windows and decorate for Hanukkah. There is a Hanukkah section at Target for goodness sake. Sorry, Hanukkah rant over.

5. The whole “finish your Brussels sprouts and you’ll get your Hanukkah present” line—it totally works. Last night Leo ate an entire bowl of rice and beans in exchange for his present. This is a boy who could probably happily subsist on scrambled eggs, cheese quesadillas and grapes.

It's just a shame Hanukkah only lasts eight days.

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.

Overheard

I was making dinner last night, Leo was having a post-day care tantrum so I put him in a time-out (which he miraculously actually stayed in). Ellie did her best to assuage the situation:

Ellie: You crabby Leo?

Leo: NO! (growling)

Ellie: You crabby Leo?

Leo: NO!

Ellie: You crazy Leo?

Leo: NO!

Ellie: Do you have a boo-boo?

Leo: NO!

Ellie: You not talkin' to me?

Leo: NO!

Ellie: You love me?

Leo: NO!

Well, you have to give her credit for trying.

And in case you were wondering, Leo was hugging Ellie three minutes later (as soon as Diego came on).

Irresistable Turkeys (and Native Americans and Pilgrims)

I realize we've moved on to those OTHER holidays, but I just had to post this.

Leo made all of this at school. Clearly they didn't get the P.C. memo, but hey, I'm not arguing with the cuteness factor.

Photo Evidence: "No WAY!"

Someone better call Molly Ringwald.

'Cause she's missing her pout...

and I think Leo stole it.

Or maybe Barbara Eden in "I Dream of Jeannie," minus the smile and the genie bikini top.

Keep in mind if these pictures had a soundtrack, they'd be saying "No WAY!" (because the pout and the crossed arms aren't complete without that little gem).

Sorry about the underwear shot Leo, but think with all the "No WAY"-ing we've been putting up with, I've earned the right.

A Glimpse From the Merry-Go-Round

I missed my mom this Thanksgiving, no big shocker there.

At some point during the day my thoughts turned to her as they do on every holiday or important occasion. But I also had a strange (and by strange here I mean good) thing happen over the long weekend.

I was on the merry-go-round on Sunday with Ellie at our local zoo. Ellie was riding the polar bear (her choice) and bobbing up and down and looking appropriately wide-eyed and a little terrified. A lovely harpsichord rendition of “Jingle Bells” played continuously in the background. Erin’s mom, visiting from New Orleans, was watching the four of us (Erin had Leo) and waved to us from the sidelines with all the excitement and enthusiasm a grandmother should display.

The merry-go-round was going pretty fast and the music felt, as so much holiday music does for me, a little melancholy, a little bittersweet. I got a little teary (OK, not that unusual for me).

I don’t know if I was just caught up in the emotion of the moment or what, but every time we whizzed past Erin’s mom, waving and smiling, I swear I saw my mom too. I saw her hunched over in her khaki L.L. Bean trench coat, her frizzy shoulder length brown hair, her fair, freckled skin, wearing her comfortable, expensive European walking shoes and waving to us all. It felt like she was there.

When I talk about missing my mom and wishing she was here to see the kids, people often say “Oh she sees them” or “She knows. She's with you.” And it kind of annoys me, because, really, how does anyone know? I mean, I know people mean well. And I’d certainly like to believe they’re right. Because aside from the memories, the belief that she is still here, in some small way, it’s all I have.

Sunday on that merry-go-round, It really did feel true.