Saturday was a day of dates. I started with Brennan and breakfast. He insisted that he sit right next to me in the booth so he could hold onto my hand and hug me while we ate. He sipped his hot chocolate, ordered pancakes with sprinkles, and hugged me every thirty seconds or so.
It was a perfect breakfast.
Later that day, my mom volunteered to watch the boys so Chris and I could have a date night. We kept it simple - an early dinner and a movie. Chris and I often spend so much time with other people or other couples at double dates or social events that I forget how much I enjoy having him all to myself. Talking uninterrupted over dinner or holding hands in a darkened movie theater makes for an ideal Saturday night date.
Saturday was a day of dates. I think I could get used to this.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
One on One
I spend most of my time with the boys as a pack. I don't think I realized this until Sundays became time for Griffin and me to bond, to lunch, to shop, alone, while his older brothers skied. I love Sundays. Yes, it's easier to parent one child at a time, rather than three. But it is also so precious to have the one on one time with my child, to listen to him uninterrupted, to giggle with him and love him up selfishly and unabashedly.
Last Saturday, Aidan had a swim meet. Aidan's entry into the meet was a little past the deadline (yes, bad mother. BAD!). This left him only swimming in one race. We were done much earlier than planned and instead of heading home, we opted to go out for breakfast, just the two of us. Aidan was thrilled to have me to himself over bagels and hot chocolate. And once again, I loved the chance to enjoy one of my children solely and completely.
This weekend it is Brennan's turn. I told him that on Saturday, we are leaving his brothers home with Daddy and heading out to breakfast, alone. His eyes lit with excitement as he pondered our options for breakfast fare.
Later that evening, as I put Brennan to bed, he hugged me close and whispered to me, "I have so many things that I have to tell you about school and my friends from today, but I am going to save it all for our breakfast. That way I can tell you all of it without anyone else there. No one else can hear. It will just be me and you."
I smiled and told him I couldn't wait. He asked me to help him count down the days until Saturday again. I left him, snuggled up under the covers, counting down the days to Saturday on his fingers.
It is such a simple thing, to take your child out for breakfast with just the two of you, but sometimes it is the simplest things that matter the most of all.
Last Saturday, Aidan had a swim meet. Aidan's entry into the meet was a little past the deadline (yes, bad mother. BAD!). This left him only swimming in one race. We were done much earlier than planned and instead of heading home, we opted to go out for breakfast, just the two of us. Aidan was thrilled to have me to himself over bagels and hot chocolate. And once again, I loved the chance to enjoy one of my children solely and completely.
This weekend it is Brennan's turn. I told him that on Saturday, we are leaving his brothers home with Daddy and heading out to breakfast, alone. His eyes lit with excitement as he pondered our options for breakfast fare.
Later that evening, as I put Brennan to bed, he hugged me close and whispered to me, "I have so many things that I have to tell you about school and my friends from today, but I am going to save it all for our breakfast. That way I can tell you all of it without anyone else there. No one else can hear. It will just be me and you."
I smiled and told him I couldn't wait. He asked me to help him count down the days until Saturday again. I left him, snuggled up under the covers, counting down the days to Saturday on his fingers.
It is such a simple thing, to take your child out for breakfast with just the two of you, but sometimes it is the simplest things that matter the most of all.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Child Care Equals Stress
One of the most stressful parts of parenting for me is child care. Organizing it, worrying about it, finding it, scheduling it and worst of all, reacting quickly when arrangements fail.
This morning, Griffin's preschool called and told me I had to come and get him. They thought he had pink eye.
I just saw him this morning, and while one of his eyes had some redness, it isn't pink eye. I told the school this. They did not agree with my assessment. I asked if there was any discharge. No discharge, but still It. Is. Pink. Eye. I must come and get him immediately.
I call Chris's cell phone and get no answer. (humpf.) I call Griffin's doctor to schedule an appointment to have him seen this morning to ensure we get the eye thing under control. After I explain Griffin's symptoms, the receptionist at the doctor's office refuses to schedule an appointment for Griffin. She refers me to a nurse. I speak to the nurse, who, after my explaining Griffin's symptoms as seen earlier by me, and now relayed by his school, tells me emphatically, "I can not write you a script. He doesn't have pink eye."
Great, right. I tell her that perhaps, to be on the safe side, can I just have the drugs for pink eye anyway? I bet you can guess what her answer was, right? No. No drugs for the illness he doesn't have, but that the school believes he has. The nurse suggests I buy him some Visine. Perfect.
I quickly pack up my computer, my files and leave scribbled instructions with my paralegal. I race out of the office to pick up my allegedly "sick" child. This "sick" child who seriously has one patch of red in his unrunny, undischarging eyes and is now jumping on his bed in his room refusing to nap. Yes, I should get lots of work done from home today, thank you very much.
I fear for the school if they do not allow him back tomorrow. Seriously. Fear.
This morning, Griffin's preschool called and told me I had to come and get him. They thought he had pink eye.
I just saw him this morning, and while one of his eyes had some redness, it isn't pink eye. I told the school this. They did not agree with my assessment. I asked if there was any discharge. No discharge, but still It. Is. Pink. Eye. I must come and get him immediately.
I call Chris's cell phone and get no answer. (humpf.) I call Griffin's doctor to schedule an appointment to have him seen this morning to ensure we get the eye thing under control. After I explain Griffin's symptoms, the receptionist at the doctor's office refuses to schedule an appointment for Griffin. She refers me to a nurse. I speak to the nurse, who, after my explaining Griffin's symptoms as seen earlier by me, and now relayed by his school, tells me emphatically, "I can not write you a script. He doesn't have pink eye."
Great, right. I tell her that perhaps, to be on the safe side, can I just have the drugs for pink eye anyway? I bet you can guess what her answer was, right? No. No drugs for the illness he doesn't have, but that the school believes he has. The nurse suggests I buy him some Visine. Perfect.
I quickly pack up my computer, my files and leave scribbled instructions with my paralegal. I race out of the office to pick up my allegedly "sick" child. This "sick" child who seriously has one patch of red in his unrunny, undischarging eyes and is now jumping on his bed in his room refusing to nap. Yes, I should get lots of work done from home today, thank you very much.
I fear for the school if they do not allow him back tomorrow. Seriously. Fear.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Three Isn't Easier the Third Time
No, three isn't any easier the third time. You would think, by now, that we would have the hang of this whole parenting gig. It's three. It's a developmental phase. We will get through it. Sure.
Oh dear Lord, I just hope we make it through. Three kicks us in the ass. It is my worst age. It is the age my children morph into demons. The age of tantrums and outright defiance. It is the age of a whole lot of time outs. Three is exhausting and feels never ending.
Yes, our dearest third child Griffin is exemplifying all that three means to Chris and me. He is spectacularly three. And we are already counting down the days until he is four.
Tonight, Griffin was in rare form. Chris had put him to bed, without books or cuddles, as retribution for his behavior on the car ride home from hockey. Griffin screamed and howled at the top of his lungs in protest. It was unbearably loud.
While Griffin raged, Chris and I crawled into bed with Brennan to give him a few moments of pre-bed snuggles. Brennan was beyond delighted to have us both in bed with him at the same time. His face glowed as he directed us where to lay on his bed. He pushed me over towards him as he pulled Chris over to the middle of the bed. I couldn't quite figure out what Brennan was doing, but Chris and I indulged him good naturedly.
After we were placed just where Brennan wanted us on his bed, Brennan sighed with contentment.
"Now," he said softly, "I can cuddle with you both together!" He put one arm around Chris and his other around me and gathered us close to him.
As we all snuggled together in Brennan's bed, I remembered Brennan at three. My sweet, cuddler, joyful five year old boy was also once spectacularly three. Let's just say Brennan did three with a vengance.
It gives me so great hope that we may actually find the light at the end of this third tunnel. And I can only hope for a sweet four year old Griffin waiting for us in its wings.
Oh dear Lord, I just hope we make it through. Three kicks us in the ass. It is my worst age. It is the age my children morph into demons. The age of tantrums and outright defiance. It is the age of a whole lot of time outs. Three is exhausting and feels never ending.
Yes, our dearest third child Griffin is exemplifying all that three means to Chris and me. He is spectacularly three. And we are already counting down the days until he is four.
Tonight, Griffin was in rare form. Chris had put him to bed, without books or cuddles, as retribution for his behavior on the car ride home from hockey. Griffin screamed and howled at the top of his lungs in protest. It was unbearably loud.
While Griffin raged, Chris and I crawled into bed with Brennan to give him a few moments of pre-bed snuggles. Brennan was beyond delighted to have us both in bed with him at the same time. His face glowed as he directed us where to lay on his bed. He pushed me over towards him as he pulled Chris over to the middle of the bed. I couldn't quite figure out what Brennan was doing, but Chris and I indulged him good naturedly.
After we were placed just where Brennan wanted us on his bed, Brennan sighed with contentment.
"Now," he said softly, "I can cuddle with you both together!" He put one arm around Chris and his other around me and gathered us close to him.
As we all snuggled together in Brennan's bed, I remembered Brennan at three. My sweet, cuddler, joyful five year old boy was also once spectacularly three. Let's just say Brennan did three with a vengance.
It gives me so great hope that we may actually find the light at the end of this third tunnel. And I can only hope for a sweet four year old Griffin waiting for us in its wings.
Friday, January 22, 2010
More From the Mouths of Babes
Griffin: "I smell something bad. Something really, really bad."
Me: "You do?" I start to sniff around the house, concerned the dog has had an accident.
Griffin: "Yes, it's bad. I smell poopy!!!"
Me: "Poopy? Really? Where?"
Griffin sniffs the air, turns to me with wide eyes and yells, "Oh, I know! It's your breath Mommy!"
______________________________________
The boys watched Alvin and the Chipmunks last night before bed. Halfway through the movie, Brennan turns to me and says thoughtfully, "If we were the chipmunks, I would be Alvin, Aidan would be Simon and Griffin would be Theodore!"
Brennan smiles at me and continues, "Would you like to be our Chipette Momma?"
________________________________________
I am in the bathroom attending to business. Faintly in the background, I hear Griffin yelling, but can't make out what he is saying. As he gets closer, I hear him yell, "Mommy! Mommy! Where are you? Mommy! I have to tell you something Mommy!"
Griffin's yelling continues and gets more agitated. Irritated, I open the door to the bathroom a crack and yell back, "I am IN THE BATHROOM!"
Griffin yells back, "Where? Mommy! I have to tell you something!"
I yell even louder, "IN THE BATHROOM. I AM IN THE BATHROOM. ON THE TOLIET, OKAY?"
Griffin runs to greet me in the bathroom.
"Mommy, I have to tell you something! I have to tell you something!"
I sigh, wondering when, exactly, I will ever have a moment of privacy again. "Yes, Griffin, what do you have to tell me?"
Griffin smiles and says sweetly, "I love you Mommy" and walks away.
I guess a lack of privacy is but a small price to pay.
Me: "You do?" I start to sniff around the house, concerned the dog has had an accident.
Griffin: "Yes, it's bad. I smell poopy!!!"
Me: "Poopy? Really? Where?"
Griffin sniffs the air, turns to me with wide eyes and yells, "Oh, I know! It's your breath Mommy!"
______________________________________
The boys watched Alvin and the Chipmunks last night before bed. Halfway through the movie, Brennan turns to me and says thoughtfully, "If we were the chipmunks, I would be Alvin, Aidan would be Simon and Griffin would be Theodore!"
Brennan smiles at me and continues, "Would you like to be our Chipette Momma?"
________________________________________
I am in the bathroom attending to business. Faintly in the background, I hear Griffin yelling, but can't make out what he is saying. As he gets closer, I hear him yell, "Mommy! Mommy! Where are you? Mommy! I have to tell you something Mommy!"
Griffin's yelling continues and gets more agitated. Irritated, I open the door to the bathroom a crack and yell back, "I am IN THE BATHROOM!"
Griffin yells back, "Where? Mommy! I have to tell you something!"
I yell even louder, "IN THE BATHROOM. I AM IN THE BATHROOM. ON THE TOLIET, OKAY?"
Griffin runs to greet me in the bathroom.
"Mommy, I have to tell you something! I have to tell you something!"
I sigh, wondering when, exactly, I will ever have a moment of privacy again. "Yes, Griffin, what do you have to tell me?"
Griffin smiles and says sweetly, "I love you Mommy" and walks away.
I guess a lack of privacy is but a small price to pay.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Check Ups!
Brennan and Griffin had their yearly doctor’s check ups today. The yearly check up is one of the most concrete, defining moments of understanding how much your child has grown, both literally and figuratively.
The boys both measured in at the 95th percentile in height and weight. Griffin coming in at 40 pounds and Brennan at 50 pounds. After getting weighed, I helped the boys undress to await the doctor. Griffin then decided he had to use the bathroom. Brennan quickly joined in the request. Off we set down the hall, the boys strutting ahead of me, naked except for their stylin' star wars and spiderman briefs.
There is nothing cuter in this world than a little boy, pot bellied, and oh so sweet, strolling confidently around in his big boy underwear. (I should probably be worried about how unconcerned either of them are at being seen in public in their undies.)
The doctor was soon ready to see us all. She asked the boys a series of questions and I was thoroughly entertained by their answers. Brennan was somber and almost nervous about speaking to the doctor he has had since he was born. Griffin, on the other hand, kept interjecting to expand upon his answers or Brennan’s answers. The doctor clearly got a kick out of Griffin.
At one point, the doctor turned to the boys and asked if they like to swim. They both said yes. She then continued in a serious tone, “Swimming is good, but remember, that you never, ever, ever go near a pool, or a pond, or a lake or anything else with a lot of water unless you have a big person with you, okay?”
Both boys nodded, but Griffin smiled and said, “Or if an Adult is with you.” Griffin pointed at the doctor and said in a explanatory tone, “Adult means big person. It's another word for big person.”
The doctor laughed for a good minute and then turned to me to ask, “Is he always like this?”
Oh yes. Three going on thirteen. Yep, that is our G.
The visit quickly degenerated into a screaming fest when both boys had to get shots. They were not pleased. I calmly held them and spoke to them as each got their shots. It was a stark contrast to the mother I used to be that cried just as hard as I watched my babies get their first shots. I don’t think it is just the kids that have grown through the years. I may have done some growing myself.
The boys both measured in at the 95th percentile in height and weight. Griffin coming in at 40 pounds and Brennan at 50 pounds. After getting weighed, I helped the boys undress to await the doctor. Griffin then decided he had to use the bathroom. Brennan quickly joined in the request. Off we set down the hall, the boys strutting ahead of me, naked except for their stylin' star wars and spiderman briefs.
There is nothing cuter in this world than a little boy, pot bellied, and oh so sweet, strolling confidently around in his big boy underwear. (I should probably be worried about how unconcerned either of them are at being seen in public in their undies.)
The doctor was soon ready to see us all. She asked the boys a series of questions and I was thoroughly entertained by their answers. Brennan was somber and almost nervous about speaking to the doctor he has had since he was born. Griffin, on the other hand, kept interjecting to expand upon his answers or Brennan’s answers. The doctor clearly got a kick out of Griffin.
At one point, the doctor turned to the boys and asked if they like to swim. They both said yes. She then continued in a serious tone, “Swimming is good, but remember, that you never, ever, ever go near a pool, or a pond, or a lake or anything else with a lot of water unless you have a big person with you, okay?”
Both boys nodded, but Griffin smiled and said, “Or if an Adult is with you.” Griffin pointed at the doctor and said in a explanatory tone, “Adult means big person. It's another word for big person.”
The doctor laughed for a good minute and then turned to me to ask, “Is he always like this?”
Oh yes. Three going on thirteen. Yep, that is our G.
The visit quickly degenerated into a screaming fest when both boys had to get shots. They were not pleased. I calmly held them and spoke to them as each got their shots. It was a stark contrast to the mother I used to be that cried just as hard as I watched my babies get their first shots. I don’t think it is just the kids that have grown through the years. I may have done some growing myself.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
One is Like a Vacation
Each Sunday, I get up way too early to play tennis. When I return home, Chris immediately sets out for the ski hills with Aidan and Brennan. They both have a two hour lesson and then spend some time skiing with Chris.
This leaves just me and Griffin home. Just the two of us.
I have to tell you, having one child, just one child, well, it's a little bit like being on vacation. It's easy street!
This past Sunday, G and I headed to Target. We did some shopping, some giggling and had a whole lot of fun. After making my mandatory 100$ donation to Target's bottom line, we were off to Wegmans for our grocery shopping.
But first, we split some Chinese food at Wegmans cafe. G is a big fan of Wegman's organic chicken dumplings. It was like a little date, our mother and son lunch. I was relaxed and he was joyful to finally have me all to himself. We lingered over lunch, just enjoying each other's company.
If I had to admit it, even the grocery shopping that followed was fun with just one child.
We timed our arrival at home just as the other two boys were returning from skiing with Chris. It was back to our normal, chaotic, oh so loud household.
I wouldn't trade our family of five for a minute, but I am already looking forward to my Sunday date with Griffin next weekend. It is a treat to have these stolen moments to love him up all on his own.
This leaves just me and Griffin home. Just the two of us.
I have to tell you, having one child, just one child, well, it's a little bit like being on vacation. It's easy street!
This past Sunday, G and I headed to Target. We did some shopping, some giggling and had a whole lot of fun. After making my mandatory 100$ donation to Target's bottom line, we were off to Wegmans for our grocery shopping.
But first, we split some Chinese food at Wegmans cafe. G is a big fan of Wegman's organic chicken dumplings. It was like a little date, our mother and son lunch. I was relaxed and he was joyful to finally have me all to himself. We lingered over lunch, just enjoying each other's company.
If I had to admit it, even the grocery shopping that followed was fun with just one child.
We timed our arrival at home just as the other two boys were returning from skiing with Chris. It was back to our normal, chaotic, oh so loud household.
I wouldn't trade our family of five for a minute, but I am already looking forward to my Sunday date with Griffin next weekend. It is a treat to have these stolen moments to love him up all on his own.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
It's a Zoo
After watching Brennan interact with Chewy, Chris and I have come to the conclusion that Brennan's alter ego is a puppy. He is loveable, cuddly and can cheerfully get into a bit of mischief, even when he has the best of intentions.
When Griffin heard that Brennan was a puppy, he wanted to be an animal too. Griffin ran up to Chris and yelled, "I am a puppy too Daddy! A puppy!"
Immediately, Chris and I shook our heads with force and stifled laughter.
"No G, you are not a puppy. You are more like..." Chris thought for a moment and then continued, "You are more like a lion."
We all immediately agreed that G is just like a little lion.
"But what about me Dad?" Aidan asked.
"You are our owl, Aidan." Chris replied.
A puppy, a lion and an owl. Our menagerie of animals with their very different personalities. I always thought our house was a little bit like a zoo.
When Griffin heard that Brennan was a puppy, he wanted to be an animal too. Griffin ran up to Chris and yelled, "I am a puppy too Daddy! A puppy!"
Immediately, Chris and I shook our heads with force and stifled laughter.
"No G, you are not a puppy. You are more like..." Chris thought for a moment and then continued, "You are more like a lion."
We all immediately agreed that G is just like a little lion.
"But what about me Dad?" Aidan asked.
"You are our owl, Aidan." Chris replied.
A puppy, a lion and an owl. Our menagerie of animals with their very different personalities. I always thought our house was a little bit like a zoo.
Saturday, January 09, 2010
Book Shopping
Chris's Aunt gave each of the boys a gift card to Barnes and Noble for Christmas. It was a fantastic idea and I was really excited to take each of them shopping for a few new books.
It was a painstaking process. The boys belabored each selection. Aidan would announced he had picked a few books, only to reshelve them a few minutes later. We had to coax Brennan away from the chapter book shelves with Aidan to a more appropriate level for his age. (As Brennan fully pretends he can read, this was not an easy task.) Two and a half hours later, the books were selected and we were finally ready to head home.
Each boy left the store with their own bag stocked with their book selections. As we got in the car, I heard Aidan say to Brennan, "And you know what Brennan? The best part is that we get to KEEP these books!"
Brennan's mouth fell open. He turned to me, confused, and asked, "What? We get to KEEP these? Forever? We never have to give them back? Ever?"
When I confirmed, that yes, the books are theirs to keep, Brennan lets out a shout of joy and yelled, "I get to keep them! Hooray!"
I guess we have been spending too much time borrowing books from the library.
It was a painstaking process. The boys belabored each selection. Aidan would announced he had picked a few books, only to reshelve them a few minutes later. We had to coax Brennan away from the chapter book shelves with Aidan to a more appropriate level for his age. (As Brennan fully pretends he can read, this was not an easy task.) Two and a half hours later, the books were selected and we were finally ready to head home.
Each boy left the store with their own bag stocked with their book selections. As we got in the car, I heard Aidan say to Brennan, "And you know what Brennan? The best part is that we get to KEEP these books!"
Brennan's mouth fell open. He turned to me, confused, and asked, "What? We get to KEEP these? Forever? We never have to give them back? Ever?"
When I confirmed, that yes, the books are theirs to keep, Brennan lets out a shout of joy and yelled, "I get to keep them! Hooray!"
I guess we have been spending too much time borrowing books from the library.
Friday, January 08, 2010
Wii-Intervention
Our family may need a Wii intervention. We have spent more time than I can admit playing hours upon hours of Wii. It is quality family time - each of us giggling or cheering as we either participate or watch the antics of the Wii combatants, but it is a whole lot of Wii time.
From Wii Sports Resort (frisbee, basketball, airplane dog fights, ping pong, oh my!), Rock Band, Grand Slam Tennis, Tiger Woods Golf (without the mistresses) and Mario Kart, Wii has become our winter activity of choice. (Hey - Baby it's cold outside!)
We will probably stop soon. Maybe. Just as soon as I can manage to beat my seven year old in Mario Kart. Maybe then. Until then, at least I reign as resident Ping Pong champ. Game On.
From Wii Sports Resort (frisbee, basketball, airplane dog fights, ping pong, oh my!), Rock Band, Grand Slam Tennis, Tiger Woods Golf (without the mistresses) and Mario Kart, Wii has become our winter activity of choice. (Hey - Baby it's cold outside!)
We will probably stop soon. Maybe. Just as soon as I can manage to beat my seven year old in Mario Kart. Maybe then. Until then, at least I reign as resident Ping Pong champ. Game On.
Monday, January 04, 2010
The Pup
I have to be honest, when we made the decision to go ahead and get the pup - to have Chewy join our family, I thought we would regret it. I honestly thought I would seriously and greatly regret it. I was doing it because I knew it would make the boys happy, but I also foresaw a whole lot of work and frustration awaiting me.
But I did it anyway.
I haven't regretted it for a moment. Not a one. (Not even when he ate two socks and threw up for a day. NOT EVEN THEN. Well, okay, Chris pretty much handled the sock vomit and all, but still - not a regret!)
I love this dog. I adore him. I could not imagine a better dog for us. He is so sweet and loving. He is calm. He is easy to train. And he has the softest fur - I could bury myself in it. He is like a walking, breathing stuffed animal.
Strangely enough, he has also become my puppy. Chris handles much of the dog grunt work, getting up with him in the morning, feeding him, bathing him, etc. In spite of this, Chewy still follows me around like a lovesick puppy, eager for a snuggle or a belly rub. After a few weeks, I told Chris that I think Chewy sees him just as a manservant, a minor inconvenience of getting to me. If I say "Come", Chewy runs at me like I have a steak hidden in my back pocket, while any commands from Chris or the boys are responded to haphazardly by our dog. Chris handles it with good humor, but the boys get a little frustrated. The boys get even more frustrated (particularly Griffin) when they are trying to sit on my lap or get my attention and Chewy tries to nip them or nudge them away from me.
The other night, I was home alone. The boys were all in bed and I was watching tv, laying on a chaise. Chewy walked up to my feet and simply stared at me.
I looked at him and asked, "What Chewy?"
He barked loudly at me and before I could react, he jumped up into my lap and started kissing my face. He then made himself at home on my lap, curling up in a ball with a sigh of contentment. My fifty pounder lap dog.
I adore this dog.
(My future sister in law, Lynda, took this picture of me holding baby Chewy Thanksgiving weekend. It is hard to believe I was able to pick him up and snuggle with him like that. He is now WAY too big to be picked up or carried and is well on his way to being one, big dog. One big, big lap dog.)
But I did it anyway.
I haven't regretted it for a moment. Not a one. (Not even when he ate two socks and threw up for a day. NOT EVEN THEN. Well, okay, Chris pretty much handled the sock vomit and all, but still - not a regret!)
I love this dog. I adore him. I could not imagine a better dog for us. He is so sweet and loving. He is calm. He is easy to train. And he has the softest fur - I could bury myself in it. He is like a walking, breathing stuffed animal.
Strangely enough, he has also become my puppy. Chris handles much of the dog grunt work, getting up with him in the morning, feeding him, bathing him, etc. In spite of this, Chewy still follows me around like a lovesick puppy, eager for a snuggle or a belly rub. After a few weeks, I told Chris that I think Chewy sees him just as a manservant, a minor inconvenience of getting to me. If I say "Come", Chewy runs at me like I have a steak hidden in my back pocket, while any commands from Chris or the boys are responded to haphazardly by our dog. Chris handles it with good humor, but the boys get a little frustrated. The boys get even more frustrated (particularly Griffin) when they are trying to sit on my lap or get my attention and Chewy tries to nip them or nudge them away from me.
The other night, I was home alone. The boys were all in bed and I was watching tv, laying on a chaise. Chewy walked up to my feet and simply stared at me.
I looked at him and asked, "What Chewy?"
He barked loudly at me and before I could react, he jumped up into my lap and started kissing my face. He then made himself at home on my lap, curling up in a ball with a sigh of contentment. My fifty pounder lap dog.
I adore this dog.
(My future sister in law, Lynda, took this picture of me holding baby Chewy Thanksgiving weekend. It is hard to believe I was able to pick him up and snuggle with him like that. He is now WAY too big to be picked up or carried and is well on his way to being one, big dog. One big, big lap dog.)
Sunday, January 03, 2010
Skiing into the New Year with a Little Sake
After two days of life in pjs and hours upon hours of Wii tournaments, the whole family managed to get dressed to go out to dinner on Saturday night. We met our friends, Danielle and PJ, and their children, Ryan and Lexi, for dinner at a Hibachi/Sushi restaurant that opened recently.
We all had a blast. Not only did the chefs entertain us with crazy antics as they cooked up a storm right in front of us, but the chef would pause in his cooking every few minutes to yell "Sake" in a loud voice as he pointed at one of us. If we nodded, the chef would yell, "Sake!" again as he took a squeeze bottle of sake and squeezed it across the grille into our mouths. They even kept a separate "sake" bottle of water so the kids could get in the fun. The boys loved it.
Today, Chris took Brennan and Griffin to their first ski lessons. While both boys have been out on the slopes a few times with Chris, this was their first day of independent instruction. Chris kept calling me from the slopes with updates on their progress. He interrupted his update midway for a burst of laughter when Brennan took out his instructor on the hill, causing everyone to fall over.
Both boys did really well at lessons. Aidan shot up several levels and is now riding the chair lift on his own like a champ. I know I say it constantly. I know. But it all does really go so very fast. Next year, all three boys will be gone every Sunday in the winter skiing up a storm. It's hard to imagine, but I know it will be here before I know it.
We all had a blast. Not only did the chefs entertain us with crazy antics as they cooked up a storm right in front of us, but the chef would pause in his cooking every few minutes to yell "Sake" in a loud voice as he pointed at one of us. If we nodded, the chef would yell, "Sake!" again as he took a squeeze bottle of sake and squeezed it across the grille into our mouths. They even kept a separate "sake" bottle of water so the kids could get in the fun. The boys loved it.
Today, Chris took Brennan and Griffin to their first ski lessons. While both boys have been out on the slopes a few times with Chris, this was their first day of independent instruction. Chris kept calling me from the slopes with updates on their progress. He interrupted his update midway for a burst of laughter when Brennan took out his instructor on the hill, causing everyone to fall over.
Both boys did really well at lessons. Aidan shot up several levels and is now riding the chair lift on his own like a champ. I know I say it constantly. I know. But it all does really go so very fast. Next year, all three boys will be gone every Sunday in the winter skiing up a storm. It's hard to imagine, but I know it will be here before I know it.
Saturday, January 02, 2010
Peace
News Years Day was perfectly peaceful. After the bustle of the holidays, it was wonderful to have a day at home in our pjs to relax, play games and nap.
We all went outside as a family to play in the snow, build snow forts and throw snow balls at each other. We played every game possible on Wii and even threw in some board games to mix it up.
During a quiet moment, I relaxed in my pjs and watched the lights of the tree. I thought of the year behind me and the year to come. I thought of many goals and resolutions I could add to my list for 2010. But after a few minutes of considering my life and what I truly want it to be right now, I discarded each and every resolution but one.
For 2010, I wish my family peace. I want us to enjoy the quiet and learn to say no to the insane amount of activities, engagements and responsibilities. I will not overextend myself by volunteering for anything and everything that is asked of me. I will take time to reflect to determine what I and/or my family want to do, the things that will make us happy, rather than the things we have to do or the things we do just because we didn't take the time to say no.
I wish for more days of playing outside in the snow and playing endless hours of games with my children. I wish for more days of reading on the couch under a comfy blanket. I wish for more days of snuggling up with my husband at night to simply watch a movie.
There will be other years I can tackle my endless list of goals or things I want to learn or accomplish. But for this year, I will strive only for peace. For me and my family.
We all went outside as a family to play in the snow, build snow forts and throw snow balls at each other. We played every game possible on Wii and even threw in some board games to mix it up.
During a quiet moment, I relaxed in my pjs and watched the lights of the tree. I thought of the year behind me and the year to come. I thought of many goals and resolutions I could add to my list for 2010. But after a few minutes of considering my life and what I truly want it to be right now, I discarded each and every resolution but one.
For 2010, I wish my family peace. I want us to enjoy the quiet and learn to say no to the insane amount of activities, engagements and responsibilities. I will not overextend myself by volunteering for anything and everything that is asked of me. I will take time to reflect to determine what I and/or my family want to do, the things that will make us happy, rather than the things we have to do or the things we do just because we didn't take the time to say no.
I wish for more days of playing outside in the snow and playing endless hours of games with my children. I wish for more days of reading on the couch under a comfy blanket. I wish for more days of snuggling up with my husband at night to simply watch a movie.
There will be other years I can tackle my endless list of goals or things I want to learn or accomplish. But for this year, I will strive only for peace. For me and my family.
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