Al Gore has convinced me we need to start recycling and use those cute little reusable shopping bags my beloved Wegmans has offered.
Thanks to my wonderful friend Christine, I had the chance to see Al Gore speak last night at the University of Buffalo. It was informative, interesting and funny (!). Yeah, he's funny too. Who knew?
If only we could turn back time. But I won't get into that right now.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Friday, April 27, 2007
Toothless No More
Griffin has teeth. TWO TEETH. They popped up sometime between last night and this morning. This may explain the crying fits and the two hours of sleep we all collectively enjoyed last night. Teeth. My baby, my last little baby has teeth.
EDITED TO ADD: Yeah, I am already done with the sweet nostalgia from Griffin's two little teeth. He has already bit me once and those little vampire baby teeth hurt to high heaven (or hell.) I am going to threaten him with immediate weaning if he doesn't keep his fangs to himself.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
We are Back
We are tan, happy, and back from our week long jaunt to Florida. It was spectacular. We soaked up as much sunshine and outdoor time as we could possible squeeze into one week. Our first morning, Aidan was up at the crack of dawn, dressed himself in his swimsuit and asked to go down to the beach at 7 a.m. We managed to hold the boys off until 8:30 am. But once at the beach, the boys were like wild animals escaped from their cages. They simply ran and ran some more until they collapsed into a sand pile with a shovel to dig. It was the theme of the vacation. Run, jump and dig. For preschoolers, that may be the perfect vacation.
Aidan and Brennan both declared they never wanted to go home. The first time we got them back into the car to go out to dinner, Brennan erupted with tears and wailing.
"I don't wanna go home, " He yelled with tears in his eyes, "I stay at the beach." While we assured him we still had plenty of time left on our vacation, he remained on edge anytime we had to get in the car to go anywhere. He was convinced we would sneak him back to Buffalo and cold, cold snow.
We enjoyed the sun, but we also enjoyed the chance to spend time with my grandparents. Chris and I get such a kick out of my nana and grandpa. They are their very own 'Stan and Ethel' variety show come to life. Some of my favorite grandparent exchanges:
My grandmother put together a pile of papers and old magazines to take to the recycling bin in their building. She left and returned a short time later, carrying a pile of new magazines and papers. I assumed she had picked up her mail on her way back to their condo. My grandmother settled in to read one of the newspapers in the chair next to me. My grandfather walks into the room, eyes the paper she is currently reading and asks in a teasing voice, "Jennie, did you pay for that newspaper?" My grandmother looks guilty and hides behind the paper. We come to find out that my grandmother likes to shop the recycle bin for new reading materials. Heh.
Another favorite: I was a little stressed our first night in Florida because the boys would not settle down to sleep. It was way beyond their normal bedtime, and they still stubbornly refused to drift off. My grandfather saw I was stressed and told me to let it go.
I replied: "But they're going to be unbearably cranky tomorrow."
He laughed and said, "Then let them be cranky."
I gave him wide eyes and said with exasperation, "But this is my vacation and I don't want to deal with cranky kids."
He laughed, shook his head and said, "Honey, you're not on vacation. The kids are on vacation. You are not on vacation. You want to know who is on vacation? Your grandmother and I are on vacation." Funny and a wise man too.
Griffin also enjoyed his first trip to both the pool and beach. He survived having his toes put into the somewhat cold Gulf of Mexico, but seemed a little astonished by the bright Florida sun. (That's what happens when you are born in December in Buffalo!)
All in all - a good time was had and memories were made.
P.S. I also must express my absolute devotion, adoration and just plain love for JetBlue. If I could, I would fly JetBlue with my children everywhere. We sat down in our seats, the boys popped on their headphones and sat QUIETLY while they watched Dora and Diego on their individual tvs. JetBlue, I truly love you. And our fellow passengers who eyed us with suspicion upon seeing that we were traveling with three children four and under, well, they love you too.
Aidan and Brennan both declared they never wanted to go home. The first time we got them back into the car to go out to dinner, Brennan erupted with tears and wailing.
"I don't wanna go home, " He yelled with tears in his eyes, "I stay at the beach." While we assured him we still had plenty of time left on our vacation, he remained on edge anytime we had to get in the car to go anywhere. He was convinced we would sneak him back to Buffalo and cold, cold snow.
We enjoyed the sun, but we also enjoyed the chance to spend time with my grandparents. Chris and I get such a kick out of my nana and grandpa. They are their very own 'Stan and Ethel' variety show come to life. Some of my favorite grandparent exchanges:
My grandmother put together a pile of papers and old magazines to take to the recycling bin in their building. She left and returned a short time later, carrying a pile of new magazines and papers. I assumed she had picked up her mail on her way back to their condo. My grandmother settled in to read one of the newspapers in the chair next to me. My grandfather walks into the room, eyes the paper she is currently reading and asks in a teasing voice, "Jennie, did you pay for that newspaper?" My grandmother looks guilty and hides behind the paper. We come to find out that my grandmother likes to shop the recycle bin for new reading materials. Heh.
Another favorite: I was a little stressed our first night in Florida because the boys would not settle down to sleep. It was way beyond their normal bedtime, and they still stubbornly refused to drift off. My grandfather saw I was stressed and told me to let it go.
I replied: "But they're going to be unbearably cranky tomorrow."
He laughed and said, "Then let them be cranky."
I gave him wide eyes and said with exasperation, "But this is my vacation and I don't want to deal with cranky kids."
He laughed, shook his head and said, "Honey, you're not on vacation. The kids are on vacation. You are not on vacation. You want to know who is on vacation? Your grandmother and I are on vacation." Funny and a wise man too.
Griffin also enjoyed his first trip to both the pool and beach. He survived having his toes put into the somewhat cold Gulf of Mexico, but seemed a little astonished by the bright Florida sun. (That's what happens when you are born in December in Buffalo!)
All in all - a good time was had and memories were made.
P.S. I also must express my absolute devotion, adoration and just plain love for JetBlue. If I could, I would fly JetBlue with my children everywhere. We sat down in our seats, the boys popped on their headphones and sat QUIETLY while they watched Dora and Diego on their individual tvs. JetBlue, I truly love you. And our fellow passengers who eyed us with suspicion upon seeing that we were traveling with three children four and under, well, they love you too.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Monday, April 16, 2007
Caution - Discussion of Bodily Functions and/or Fluids Ahead...
There is something about becoming a parent that allows you to discuss bodily functions and/or fluids with relative comfort. My day today has been all about bodily functions and fluids and it is only early afternoon.
This morning I negotiated a truce between Aidan and Brennan as they brawled over the ownership of a rescue hero action figure. (Mind you - we have like fifteen of these same silly action figures - but they both had to have THIS specific one or else!) I negotiated this truce from the comfort of the porcelain throne in my downstairs bathroom. Privacy? Please, not to the mother of three. You better be prepared to conduct your business and settle sibling disputes while your drawers are down.
Later this same morning, I dusted off my trusty ol' breast pump determined to put some milk away for my return to work in one month. As of today, I have NO milk in reserve. NONE. And since Griffin has taken an absolute dislike of any and all formulas, I should really get a pumpin'. I was inspired to begin my pumping program by my amazing friend Danielle who has enough milk in reserve for her nine month old that he may be able to use breast milk as a chaser in college. Yesterday, Danielle managed to pick her husband up from the airport, endure three flight delays, and drive herself to meet a bunch of us girlfriends for brunch while she pumped. WHILE she drove. If there was a La Leche award for breastfeeding super hero of the year, Danielle should totally get it. As it is though, my freezer is empty and the clock is a tickin'. And so I commenced the pumping session. Within two seconds, I am surrounded on both sides by curious eyes. I sit in a chair, pump a pumpin', with Aidan on one side and Brennan on the other. This is the exchange that occurred:
Brennan: "Whacha doin' momma?"
Me: "I'm pumping milk for Baby Griffin."
Aidan: Peers closely at the still empty bottles hanging from my breasts, "Where's the milk?"
Brennan: "I see some! I see some!"
Aidan: "Where?"
Brennan: "There! There it is! Good job momma!"
Aidan: "Hmmm, that's not much though." Looks at me with concern, "Are your boobies still warming up mom?"
Yeah, I gave up with about 1/2 an ounce of milk.
And later, later this morning, Brennan has to go poopies. Brennan likes everyone and anyone in his vicinity to know that he is about to go, is going, and has gone poopies. He will pop a squat wherever he may be and do his thing. This is the exact opposite of his brother Aidan who would disappear for fifteen minutes to go do the deed and then afterwards deny it until the smell became unbearable.
Brennan is still in diapers. I know that I should encourage him to go use the potty once he has announced his intention to go poopies, but I am just too damn tired and well, lazy, to do the follow through on this. I do manage to halfheartedly ask Brennan each time if he would like to try on the "big boy potty", but he always declines.
So, this morning - Brennan announces he has to go poopies as we are all in the playroom. He proceeds to squat and lean on our Fisher Price ramps around garage as he apparently takes care of business. He grunts. He groans. All at full volume. Brennan then starts narrating the progress of the poopy.
Grunt, Groan.. and then "Oooo - it's a hard one Momma. A hard one."
Interested despite himself, Aidan starts to cheer Brennan on with his hard work.
"Keep at it Brennan. You can do it."
I am just trying to keep a straight face. Finally, Brennan straightens, pumps his hands into the air and yells, "AWWLLLL DONE!" Aidan claps. I go get wipes and a clean diaper.
And even later, later, later this morning. Aidan has his own quality time in the bathroom working out his very own poopie. Aidan, however, likes his privacy during the deed. But after it is all finished and complete, I hear a shout, "Brennan, come see my poopies!"
Brennan, in the next room, shouts back, "Okay Aidan."
I hear Brennan running into the bathroom. There is silence. I then hear Brennan, "Wow, that's a big one Aidan."
Aidan: "Thank you Brennan."
Brennan: "You're welcome."
Welcome to crazy. This is my life. And it isn't even over yet for the day.
This morning I negotiated a truce between Aidan and Brennan as they brawled over the ownership of a rescue hero action figure. (Mind you - we have like fifteen of these same silly action figures - but they both had to have THIS specific one or else!) I negotiated this truce from the comfort of the porcelain throne in my downstairs bathroom. Privacy? Please, not to the mother of three. You better be prepared to conduct your business and settle sibling disputes while your drawers are down.
Later this same morning, I dusted off my trusty ol' breast pump determined to put some milk away for my return to work in one month. As of today, I have NO milk in reserve. NONE. And since Griffin has taken an absolute dislike of any and all formulas, I should really get a pumpin'. I was inspired to begin my pumping program by my amazing friend Danielle who has enough milk in reserve for her nine month old that he may be able to use breast milk as a chaser in college. Yesterday, Danielle managed to pick her husband up from the airport, endure three flight delays, and drive herself to meet a bunch of us girlfriends for brunch while she pumped. WHILE she drove. If there was a La Leche award for breastfeeding super hero of the year, Danielle should totally get it. As it is though, my freezer is empty and the clock is a tickin'. And so I commenced the pumping session. Within two seconds, I am surrounded on both sides by curious eyes. I sit in a chair, pump a pumpin', with Aidan on one side and Brennan on the other. This is the exchange that occurred:
Brennan: "Whacha doin' momma?"
Me: "I'm pumping milk for Baby Griffin."
Aidan: Peers closely at the still empty bottles hanging from my breasts, "Where's the milk?"
Brennan: "I see some! I see some!"
Aidan: "Where?"
Brennan: "There! There it is! Good job momma!"
Aidan: "Hmmm, that's not much though." Looks at me with concern, "Are your boobies still warming up mom?"
Yeah, I gave up with about 1/2 an ounce of milk.
And later, later this morning, Brennan has to go poopies. Brennan likes everyone and anyone in his vicinity to know that he is about to go, is going, and has gone poopies. He will pop a squat wherever he may be and do his thing. This is the exact opposite of his brother Aidan who would disappear for fifteen minutes to go do the deed and then afterwards deny it until the smell became unbearable.
Brennan is still in diapers. I know that I should encourage him to go use the potty once he has announced his intention to go poopies, but I am just too damn tired and well, lazy, to do the follow through on this. I do manage to halfheartedly ask Brennan each time if he would like to try on the "big boy potty", but he always declines.
So, this morning - Brennan announces he has to go poopies as we are all in the playroom. He proceeds to squat and lean on our Fisher Price ramps around garage as he apparently takes care of business. He grunts. He groans. All at full volume. Brennan then starts narrating the progress of the poopy.
Grunt, Groan.. and then "Oooo - it's a hard one Momma. A hard one."
Interested despite himself, Aidan starts to cheer Brennan on with his hard work.
"Keep at it Brennan. You can do it."
I am just trying to keep a straight face. Finally, Brennan straightens, pumps his hands into the air and yells, "AWWLLLL DONE!" Aidan claps. I go get wipes and a clean diaper.
And even later, later, later this morning. Aidan has his own quality time in the bathroom working out his very own poopie. Aidan, however, likes his privacy during the deed. But after it is all finished and complete, I hear a shout, "Brennan, come see my poopies!"
Brennan, in the next room, shouts back, "Okay Aidan."
I hear Brennan running into the bathroom. There is silence. I then hear Brennan, "Wow, that's a big one Aidan."
Aidan: "Thank you Brennan."
Brennan: "You're welcome."
Welcome to crazy. This is my life. And it isn't even over yet for the day.
Friday, April 13, 2007
He's a Sweet Baby, I Swear...
Griffin is the sweetest baby. A snuggler who loves to be kissed and held. He nurses wonderfully well, takes three naps a day, and wakes only once at night to be fed. A sweet delightful dream of a baby who smiles easily and loves to giggle. This is all true. It's just that to be all the above, Griffin has to be with me. Only with me. Otherwise, he turns into what Chris has affectionately nicknamed, "the beast."
He cries and wails. He refuses to eat. He has spit formula back at his grandmother and has clamped his lips shut when offered a bottle. He howls so loud that his whole face turns purple. There is no consoling the beast unless and until I return.
We are blessed to live close to family who are always willing to babysit. The boys are loved and cared for by grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. But even Griffin's grandparents have become a little scared of him. On the rare occasions that I have left him, I return to tales of horror. He refused to eat or sleep. He cried so much and so loud that Brennan walked around the house with his hands clamped over his ears. Miraculously, once I return and hold him, the beast transforms into the sweet baby Griffin that I know and love. It is an instantaneous and amazing transformation. It baffles my husband and boggles the mind of his grandparents.
I am not sure how to help Griffin deal with our separation. I go back to work in one month. In one month, he will be away from me for three days a week, nine to ten hours a day. This will be difficult for us both and it seems almost impossible for Griffin. How do I make it easier? What can I do? I feel like the clock is ticking and I don't know how to ease this transition.
The thing is - I am excited to get back to work. I enjoy my three days at the office. But how can I look forward to something that will be so difficult for my baby? I am at a loss.
In better news, Griffin is now four months. FOUR MONTHS! He is 18 pounds - and in the 95% for both weight and height. My little chunker of a baby. My little love of a beast, what are we going to do with you?
He cries and wails. He refuses to eat. He has spit formula back at his grandmother and has clamped his lips shut when offered a bottle. He howls so loud that his whole face turns purple. There is no consoling the beast unless and until I return.
We are blessed to live close to family who are always willing to babysit. The boys are loved and cared for by grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. But even Griffin's grandparents have become a little scared of him. On the rare occasions that I have left him, I return to tales of horror. He refused to eat or sleep. He cried so much and so loud that Brennan walked around the house with his hands clamped over his ears. Miraculously, once I return and hold him, the beast transforms into the sweet baby Griffin that I know and love. It is an instantaneous and amazing transformation. It baffles my husband and boggles the mind of his grandparents.
I am not sure how to help Griffin deal with our separation. I go back to work in one month. In one month, he will be away from me for three days a week, nine to ten hours a day. This will be difficult for us both and it seems almost impossible for Griffin. How do I make it easier? What can I do? I feel like the clock is ticking and I don't know how to ease this transition.
The thing is - I am excited to get back to work. I enjoy my three days at the office. But how can I look forward to something that will be so difficult for my baby? I am at a loss.
In better news, Griffin is now four months. FOUR MONTHS! He is 18 pounds - and in the 95% for both weight and height. My little chunker of a baby. My little love of a beast, what are we going to do with you?
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Love and HBO
I have moments with my husband that confirm that we are indeed meant to be together. I am not talking about romantic walks on the beach moments or lovey dovey we are so in love moments, but rather flashes of insight in the minutia of our daily lives that no one else would really understand.
For instance, remember when Aidan was projectile vomiting during our road trip to Florida? The collective response of Chris and I was full out tears dripping down our face, holding our sides laughter at our predicament. Our joint ability to find humor in that instance reminded me why we found each other.
This weekend we had free HBO. FREE HBO! To say we were excited over our FREE HBO would be a slight understatement. Free HBO means FREE HBO ON DEMAND. And FREE HBO ON DEMAND meant we could watch a whole season of Entourage during every moment our children slept. We went to bed Sunday night a little sad with the knowledge that our FREE HBO would be gone come Monday, but - we were content to know we sucked every little last bit of preview out of that FREE HBO.
I had just finished putting the last child to bed on Monday night and was changing into some comfy pjs, when Chris walked into our room and asked if I was coming downstairs to watch tv. I told him I had a few things to do, but I'd be right down. And with glee in his face, he replies, "Okay, but come down soon, we still have FREE HBO." At seeing the happiness this gave him, and the joy it brought me, I know that no one, absolutely no one, would have either one of us. Truly.
For instance, remember when Aidan was projectile vomiting during our road trip to Florida? The collective response of Chris and I was full out tears dripping down our face, holding our sides laughter at our predicament. Our joint ability to find humor in that instance reminded me why we found each other.
This weekend we had free HBO. FREE HBO! To say we were excited over our FREE HBO would be a slight understatement. Free HBO means FREE HBO ON DEMAND. And FREE HBO ON DEMAND meant we could watch a whole season of Entourage during every moment our children slept. We went to bed Sunday night a little sad with the knowledge that our FREE HBO would be gone come Monday, but - we were content to know we sucked every little last bit of preview out of that FREE HBO.
I had just finished putting the last child to bed on Monday night and was changing into some comfy pjs, when Chris walked into our room and asked if I was coming downstairs to watch tv. I told him I had a few things to do, but I'd be right down. And with glee in his face, he replies, "Okay, but come down soon, we still have FREE HBO." At seeing the happiness this gave him, and the joy it brought me, I know that no one, absolutely no one, would have either one of us. Truly.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Fun.. and then Not So Much
What's Fun? Trying on all your summer clothes for our upcoming trip to Florida and discovering that they all fit. Yipee!!!
What's Not So Fun? Literally, two minutes later, loaning a pair of sweatpants to your mother in law and witnessing in person what my gigantic clothes actually look like on someone who wears a size four. Yep. Not fun. Not so much fun at all.
What's Not So Fun? Literally, two minutes later, loaning a pair of sweatpants to your mother in law and witnessing in person what my gigantic clothes actually look like on someone who wears a size four. Yep. Not fun. Not so much fun at all.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Hello Blue Eyes...
I have brown eyes. Chris has green. Aidan and Brennan have brown eyes. And then there is number three, little Griffin, with the eyes that are of the bluest blue.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Let's Go to the Beach...
We are off on our annual family trip to Florida in a couple of weeks. With the way we are all talking about it, you would think we were leaving tomorrow. The sun, the sand, the beach, the sun, the ocean, the sun, and oh, the sun. Did I mention the sun?
This year we are travelin' in style baby. Jet Blue and their roomy, comfy leather seats and all the television my kiddies can stomach. This is in stark contrast to our travels of last year. The Griswold family 24 hour overnight driving excursion to Florida. A three year old, one year old, hubbie and newly pregnant and oh, so nauseous me all shoved into an SUV. Let the games begin! Yeehaw.
Chris and I were so naively enthusiastic about our road trip with the kids. We would save money, have fun and truly bond as a family all at the same time. I start to giggle when I think about it. And then outside of Pittsburg, about six hours into the trip, Aidan started projectile vomiting in bumper to bumper construction traffic. I desperately tried to catch as much vomit as I could in an empty Target bag, but the sheer force and volume of the vomit had me beat. We had to pull over at a truck stop to fumigate the car. While Chris cleaned up buckets of puke from the back seat, I begged and pleaded for the boys to stop collecting all the cigarette butts littering the parking lot.
This was six hours into the trip. SIX hours. We all had to get back into the family car and drive the rest of the way with the stench of dried puke coloring the air. This was a hurdle for any person, but a first trimester pregnant lady? Forget it. I basically had to drive with my head out the window to stop myself from dry heaving.
Aidan swore he felt much better after his little fit. Hours later we stopped at a Wendy's in West Virginia for dinner. I have never received so much attention at a Wendy's before in my life. The heads swiveled and turned to follow our progress throughout the restaurant. If that wasn't enough, my children decided to add to the entertainment. As I waited with Aidan and Brennan at the table, Aidan glanced at me, and asked in that bell clear preschool voice, "Mom?"
"Yes, honey?"
"Do you like penises?"
My head snapped as I turned to face him. "What?" I hissed. And then as I took in the horrified stares of the other customers, I whispered to Aidan, "We can talk about this in the car."
"Why mom? Why are we going to talk about penises in the car?" Just then Chris walks up to the table, shoots me a look and interjects, "We're going to talk about what in the car?"
Sigh. Just another Rockwell Family Vacation.
While the rest of the road trip passed somewhat uneventfully, I realized that Aidan had been somewhat scarred from the 24 hour ordeal. We arrived in Florida and headed straight to the beach to allow the kids to play with family that had already arrived. As it got close to bedtime, we told the boys it was time to go so we could all get some much needed rest.
Aidan looked scared for a second and then asked in a shaking voice, "Am I going to sleep in my seat in the car?" Poor kid thought vacation meant sleeping overnight in the family car. Heh.
Florida here we come... in two or three more weeks that is. Until then, Brennan is practicing wearing his swim goggles around the house:
This year we are travelin' in style baby. Jet Blue and their roomy, comfy leather seats and all the television my kiddies can stomach. This is in stark contrast to our travels of last year. The Griswold family 24 hour overnight driving excursion to Florida. A three year old, one year old, hubbie and newly pregnant and oh, so nauseous me all shoved into an SUV. Let the games begin! Yeehaw.
Chris and I were so naively enthusiastic about our road trip with the kids. We would save money, have fun and truly bond as a family all at the same time. I start to giggle when I think about it. And then outside of Pittsburg, about six hours into the trip, Aidan started projectile vomiting in bumper to bumper construction traffic. I desperately tried to catch as much vomit as I could in an empty Target bag, but the sheer force and volume of the vomit had me beat. We had to pull over at a truck stop to fumigate the car. While Chris cleaned up buckets of puke from the back seat, I begged and pleaded for the boys to stop collecting all the cigarette butts littering the parking lot.
This was six hours into the trip. SIX hours. We all had to get back into the family car and drive the rest of the way with the stench of dried puke coloring the air. This was a hurdle for any person, but a first trimester pregnant lady? Forget it. I basically had to drive with my head out the window to stop myself from dry heaving.
Aidan swore he felt much better after his little fit. Hours later we stopped at a Wendy's in West Virginia for dinner. I have never received so much attention at a Wendy's before in my life. The heads swiveled and turned to follow our progress throughout the restaurant. If that wasn't enough, my children decided to add to the entertainment. As I waited with Aidan and Brennan at the table, Aidan glanced at me, and asked in that bell clear preschool voice, "Mom?"
"Yes, honey?"
"Do you like penises?"
My head snapped as I turned to face him. "What?" I hissed. And then as I took in the horrified stares of the other customers, I whispered to Aidan, "We can talk about this in the car."
"Why mom? Why are we going to talk about penises in the car?" Just then Chris walks up to the table, shoots me a look and interjects, "We're going to talk about what in the car?"
Sigh. Just another Rockwell Family Vacation.
While the rest of the road trip passed somewhat uneventfully, I realized that Aidan had been somewhat scarred from the 24 hour ordeal. We arrived in Florida and headed straight to the beach to allow the kids to play with family that had already arrived. As it got close to bedtime, we told the boys it was time to go so we could all get some much needed rest.
Aidan looked scared for a second and then asked in a shaking voice, "Am I going to sleep in my seat in the car?" Poor kid thought vacation meant sleeping overnight in the family car. Heh.
Florida here we come... in two or three more weeks that is. Until then, Brennan is practicing wearing his swim goggles around the house:
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