11.26.10
We usually do this closer to Christmas, but since we're not sure when we'll be back in town... Grandma DJ invited the cousins over her house Friday to decorate 48 sugar cookie cut-outs.
I love that we're a crew of six under six now. Grandma DJ has three grandsons and granddaughters. It makes all of our gatherings extra fun. And loud. And dramatic. And did I mention fun?
We're driving home now, and My Sweets just asked Buby what was his favorite part of our whole Thanksgiving road trip. Without hesitation he responded, "Seeing Sid and Lily." He really really adores those girls. Next year Oliver and Mason will join in the mess.
It's tradition to cut down a Christmas tree with my parents. Whether it's our tree or theirs depends on who roadtrips for Thanksgiving, but it's something fun to kick off the season.
My Sweets liked the idea of using the same saw every year, so in 2008 he bought a basic wooden one from the hardware store and carved in the date. That first year we already had a tree at home, but we helped Grandpa J cut his on Christmas Eve. {Yes, the 24th.} Last year we went with my parents near their house and then again near ours. This year we'll do the same.
Ideally tree cuttings are a family affair, but yesterday was blistery cold near my parents. My Sweets offered to stay in the car with the babe while I hopped out with Buby and Bleu. But Bleu refused to wear a coat or socks {surprise!}, so it was just me and Buby tagging along. We took a wagon ride into the concolor field and immediately found the perfect tree. Seriously, my mom spied the prettiest tree ever!
Buby jumped around so giddy, threw snowballs, climbed a mountain of hay, ventured down the crazy black slide, saw a real reindeer, rolled snow, and thoroughly enjoyed his cup of cocoa. He loves winter! We did it fast and returned to the car. Bleu couldn't have cared less that she missed all the action. She was perfectly content right where she was.
11.27.10
11.26.10I don't like shopping or crowds or rising before the sun for that matter. I do, however, like chilling on Grandpa J's couch while sweet baby Oliver naps on my chest. That I love.
We're on the road again. Be back home late Sunday. Wishing you all a wonderful holiday with family and friends. There is so much for which to be thankful this year.
On a very sad note, my cousin Kathy passed away early this morning. She died of cancer. Our thoughts and prayers are with the McCoys and the Clarks. Kathy was such a sweet and beautiful person, and she will be missed.
Can you find the baby? Don't worry, I only set him down for a split sec.
If you've ever been to our house you know the designated playroom is organized, at times meticulous. Buby and Beu are both excellent "cleaner uppers" when asked... I'd say especially Bleu. BUT when asked to play independently for any length of time she turns into a two-year-old tornado.
P.S. Baby proofing is at the top of my to-do list. Give me a week.
for my three lovelies.
for my sweets.
for my family.
for my friends.
for my freedom.
for my health.
for my good fortune.
for my environment.
for my bed.
for my food.
for my clothes.
for my books.
for my life right now.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Note: On the eve of Oliver's birth Grandma DJ found this triple J brick at a nature preserve-- seemingly in the middle of nowhere--and handed it to me. It sits on our fireplace mantel now.
This little guy was born 4 Mondays ago. It's hard to believe.
No idea what this was originally, but isn't it cool? My Sweets found it buried in our soil a few weeks ago while turning the garden for the season. Our house was built in the mid 1800s, so we're thinking it's old. I keep it on my kitchen windowsill now.
This is Buby working hard for his money. He loves to earn little bits here and there by helping Daddy with outdoor chores. He has a piggy bank for college, an antique bell jar for lose change, a 529 savings account, and a shark-motif "spending wallet."
Buby is starting to make age-appropriate decisions regarding how to spend and how to save, and it's so cool to watch.
Watching baby Oliver be poked and prodded in the hospital or telling Bleu girl that she couldn't stay there with me overnight. Both were heartbreaking.
She only visited on Friday morning, and once we saw how difficult it was for her to say goodbye My Sweets kept her happily distracted until Oliver and I returned home on Monday afternoon.
P.S. Thank you Allison and Jon for entertaining Buby and Bleu on Saturday. You guys rock.
11.20.10
- Oliver babe runs a fever of 100.8 on Thursday evening.
- His pediatrician re-admits him into the hospital.
- Standard procedure on infants under 30 days old, but it totally stinks. This is our fourth night sleeping here. Or should I say not sleeping here.
- No more fever. Babe is fine. Vitals are excellent. Pediatrician takes urine and blood cultures {oh the torture!} and sets the clock 48 hours for results.
- Babe gets two antibiotics through IV in case of dangerous bacterial infection.
- Platelet count is elevated.
- Anxiously waiting on those cultures. We want to go home!
- After 39 hours the hospital breaks it to me that the blood culture is lost. LOST.
- Doctor apologizes and blames lab. Nurse apologizes and blames emergency department. Doctor redraws blood {oh the drama!} and resets clock 48 more hours.
- I want to cry but don't. I miss Buby and Bleu so much it hurts. Oliver appears healthy though, and that means everything to us.
- He's pooping and peeing and eating superbly. Weighs in at 10 lbs, 1 oz. today.
- I feel for My Sweets, who is handling it alone at home. He feels for me, who is handling it alone at the hospital. We text a lot.
- Daytime television is awful. AWFUL. I'd rather stare at a blank wall.
- Hospitals smell. They are loud and dirty. I just found a bug on my bed. A beetle type that would not die. And what's up with these mashed potatoes?
- The hospital is on fire. That's right. "Code Red in electric room 2." Nurse slams door shut and six fire trucks pull up outside my window.
- Poor baby has had his rectal temp taken more times in four days than Buby and Bleu have in their lifetimes. Now he just sleeps through it.
- I hold/comfort/nurse my sweet newborn around the clock and pray he doesn't get sick from being here.
- He smiles at me for the first time. And second time. And 20 times after that. Wow, it's a good smile. Everyone here comments on his sweet disposition.
- Assuming all tests are negative, the doctor will discharge us tomorrow afternoon.
- We try to salvage our week as a family and keep the babe in a bubble, away from all germs. Seriously, nobody is touching this kid.
- Update: Blood culture came back negative and we high-tailed it out of the hospital. Later our pediatrician explained that actually we'll never know if the fever was spiked by a virus or bacteria, since by the time the hospital redrew Ollie's blood he had been on antibiotics through IV for almost 40 hours. And he continued to be on them until we left.
This is becoming a neat tradition. My Sweets sets it up. Buby and Bleu count down and push the trigger. We all stare into the clouds and then race through fields after the rocket.
Looking for our rocket last Sunday.
Bleu in the middle of what Buby so affectionately refers to as a "fussdown." 
And all that's nice. I love that Buby and Bleu are so different {they always have been} and yet they carry on like two peas. Even at ages two and five it's obvious that they adore and respect each other. I hope that continues for many many years.
Recently my friend Sara stopped over after the kids went to bed. She asked me how they've changed since last winter. Well, last winter Buby had the long hair and Bleu had the short. Ha! I didn't know where to start except to describe all the things that make them who they are right now.
Buby builds up. Bleu knocks down. Buby eats fast. Bleu eats slow. Buby looks both ways and proceeds with caution. Bleu runs ahead and takes her chances. Buby tries to make his clothes, shoes and seat belt extra tight. Bleu tries to make her clothes, shoes and seat belt extra loose. Buby layers up when it's cold. Bleu refuses anything cozy or weather appropriate. Except at bedtime. That's when Buby kicks off the covers and Bleu asks to be tucked in once again.
Buby likes meals. Bleu prefers snacks. Buby is open to suggestion. Bleu wants it her way. Buby is a daddy's boy. Bleu is a mama's girl. Buby can be bribed. Bleu cannot. Buby appreciates musicals and movies and live theater. Bleu would not dare sit still long enough. Buby lets me sing in the car. Bleu does not. Buby likes my hair down. Bleu likes it up. Buby prefers to ride. Bleu prefers to walk. Buby uses his indoor voice outside. Bleu uses her outdoor voice inside. Buby likes to stay clean. Bleu likes to get dirty.
Buby asks for company in the bathroom. Bleu requests her privacy. Buby is ticklish. Bleu pretends to be. Buby has incredible focus. Bleu has incredible energy. Buby asks just once and waits. Bleu serves as a constant reminder. Constant. Now Buby likes his hair short and styled. Bleu likes hers long and wild.
They both talk all day and love out loud and know how to tug at our heartstrings. In that way they are just the same.
The children bring home sticks and stones and dinosaur bones {just kidding} from every nature hike we take. They are completely smitten with all things Mother Earth, and we love that about them.
But it does get messy. So last spring I designated a small table on our front porch The Nature Table. It was a way for me to keep our foyer clear of crumpled up leaves and worm-hatching acorns. The kids pack their pockets full and then empty out before heading inside. Here's what the table looks like this week.
Baby's belly button. His cord finally fell off Sunday, just shy of three weeks. It was hanging on by a thread toward the end, and I was giddy at the thought of his first real bath.
My Sweets couldn't escape the office for long after Oliver was born, so his paternity leave actually begins now. He's happy, I'm relieved, and the children are over the moon. The next two weeks belong to us.
There are several things I'm super psyched about. Tommy will play bus driver on most days. Hurray for that! He's 100xs the chef I am, so I assure you we'll be eating very well while he's home. He spends one-on-one time with each child, and that's invaluable. He plays cool music and invites us all to dance before dinner. He lets the bebe snooze on his belly after hours so that I can check a few things off my to-do list. Like shower. He rocks at all things Husband and Daddy.
In the next two weeks I will finally take a moment to catch my breath. My body is still recovering from the birth since I've been consumed with taking care of three wee ones; waking at night to nurse; commuting back and forth to school {500 miles a week}; making it to tennis, swimming, gymnastics, and doctors appointments on time; being prepared for holidays, birthday parties, cultural fairs, and lantern walks; and maintaining a happy "flow" around here between all the extra diapers, feedings, laundry, and cleanup.
I must say the transition from two children to three has been our smoothest yet. Baby Oliver fits right into our lives like he's always been here. He is such a cuddle bug. Buby is my hero. Period. That kid is beyond-his-years amazing. My Sweets and I always knew it, and his teachers make a point of telling us daily.
Bleu has adjusted well to all things Oliver, but she has had some extra feisty in her lately. I think it's a mix of her just being herself, her being two, and her no longer being the baby in the house. That girl can make me laugh and cry in the same breath. I love that about her {I really do}, but there are days... There are days she breaks me by lunch and I have to remind myself, "Okay. It's cool. Just 8 more hours."
Anyway. My point is that I am V-E-R-Y much looking forward to this delayed paternity leave. My Sweets is always a treat to have around.
When Daddy can get home and finish up bedtime.
11.5.10
While I cook meals Buby and Bleu color or craft at the kitchen table. Often Buby will flip through his sight words and then read Bleu his latest phonics book. He loves to read to her. Oliver watches me from his chair.
Last night while I was preparing our dinner of steak, vegetables, vine tomatoes and mozzarella Buby drew a picture of twin rocket ships. {Ever since he and My Sweets launched that rocket into the woods he's obsessed with all things that can fly.} I noticed he was using fluorescent dot stickers to fancy them up. Awesome!
Then he asked me if he could have an empty water bottle from the recycle closet. I said, "Help yourself." Seconds later I glanced over and saw him cutting the bottom off the bottle with his school scissors. He said he was making a REAL rocket ship to match his picture. But he looked deflated, like he suddenly realized he didn't know how to do it.
I quick trimmed a piece of red construction paper {quick because I was also nursing the baby standing up} and showed him how to fill the inside with color. His face lit up and he went right to town with those bright dots again. When it was time for bed Buby handed me the picture and the rocket and asked if I would make the wings so that he could bring it to Show + Tell. Show + Tell is a big dealio every Friday at school, and it became obvious that Buby's impromptu rocket ship was trumping Daddy's special coin from Hong Kong.
After 2/3 of the kids were sleeping our friends Sara and Daymien snuck over for a bit. They were up from the city. We sat around chatting and drinking wine {them, not me}, sharing travel adventures and digital pics... securing paper wings and flames to my five year old's rocket ship. Of course.
Show + Tell was a success. And as soon as Buby jumped into my car at pick-up time he said, "Don't worry Mom... I told everyone you helped." Ha!
Buby on his weekend nature hike with My Sweets. He was all about the binoculars.
I don't care what they say about Baby Bjorn. I absolutely love and rely on my front carrier the first few months. I've had the Bjorn Sport for five years now.
We are a busy tribe, and I like to keep the babes close when we are out of the house and I cannot give him my undivided. I have my eye on this Ergo Baby carrier for the next phase.
11.7.10
My invitation to help sponge bathe the baby was well received. In fact, there was a mad dash to help me set up. This was Bleu's second time assisting and Buby's first. They know all about soft spots and umbilical cords and keeping Oliver safe and warm.
We had our follow-up with the pediatrician on Friday and discovered that the hospital incorrectly measured Oliver at birth. I guess it happens all the time. I had the nurses double and triple check this time so that his poor baby book isn't a scribbled mess.
Instead of 20 1/2 inches it turns out Oliver was 21 3/4 inches when he was born. We thought he was our smallest when actually he was our longest. And if he'd stayed inside a few more days, he probably would've been our biggest, too. {The goal for breastfed babies is to reach birth weight by day 14. Ollie was 8 lbs, 9 ounces on day 11.}
It's amazing how similar the stats are...
Buby: 21 1/4 inches, 8 lbs, 2.5 ounces
Bleu: 21 inches, 8 lbs, 7 ounces
Oliver: 21 3/4 inches, 8 lbs, 2 ounces
Dearest Oliver,
Today you are two weeks old.
Your being here feels so natural. So perfect. I can hardly remember what life was like before you came along. Our family is incredibly blessed to have you, and we know it.
Not much has changed in the last two weeks. You are more awake during the day and more sleepy at night. Hurray for both! You love to cuddle and nurse and nurse and cuddle. There is no schedule yet... I feed on demand and you catnap when the mood strikes.
You have beautiful hair. It's much darker than your siblings. Your eyes are a creamy milk chocolate with hints of navy. They sparkle. You have the longest fingers and feet I've ever seen on a baby. You inherited your daddy's cleft chin. Someday this will drive the ladies wild. You have cute button ears and long skinny legs. Your skin is heavenly. Your lips pink.
You nap in my arms. You squeeze my finger now. You poop pretty much constantly. You are mesmerized by ceiling lights. You travel well. You join us at the dinner table {thanks to an infant reclining seat}. You are starting to study Buby and Bleu with great intensity. You breathe heavy in your sleep. You like music and are not bothered by commotion.
You have such an agreeable nature. You communicate so well without speaking. You like your back rubbed. You don't mind sponge baths, though you shiver silly when wet. You love to be swaddled tight in fleece. You remind me a lot of Buby as a newborn. Sweet, content, as lovely as can be.
I am honored to be your mom, grateful for the opportunity and so looking forward to this journey with you. My little boy.
Watching baby 1 and baby 2 swoon over baby 3.
10.30.10
Costumes were interesting this year. Bleu wanted to be one thing and one thing only... a "strawberry monster." That's what she told my friend Allison back in September, and she did not waver. Every single day she reminded me of her big plans to dress up.
As it turns out berry costumes {and I don't mean Strawberry Shortcake} aren't so popular with the 3T/4T set. I lucked out last minute. Personally I don't think she resembled anything with the word "monster" in it, but I put some black polka dots on her cheeks and she was tickled.
And Buby... I can't tell you how many times he changed his mind before he finally decided on a ghost. We sat down at my computer to look at costumes {I know ghosts are easy to make, but I was due any day and needed to check this off my list}. Buby didn't like a single ghost, and honestly I didn't either. He thought they were all too scary and kindly requested a "happier, friendlier ghost."
I asked Grandma DJ to help. She picked up a plain white sweatshirt, a twin flat sheet, and black sticky-back felt. She stitched arm holes, I made a face, and the day before Halloween Buby added his fish tie and the crazy hat he crafted for spirit week last year.
I thought he looked adorable. Well, adorable-strange. Then minutes before our village parade was set to begin Buby announced that he needed a jet pack. He frantically scoured the playroom for something that would work. Uh oh. This was serious. He said he couldn't fly, and a ghost who couldn't fly didn't feel like a real ghost at all. Be still my heart. I didn't want to crush him, and telling him that he'll never fly felt like telling him there's no Santa. Worse. I suggested we go visit Daddy in the garage. He always knows what to do.
Moments later Buby galloped out of the garage with an enormously proud grin on his face and a rainbow kite tied to his back. He thought he was the coolest, most psychedelic "pterodactyl ghost" ever, and when the wind picked up just enough he swore he could float off the curb.
Mission accomplished.
