Feels Like the First Time

When we found out that Charlie was a boy, my very first thought was, Oh thank you, God! 

My very next thought was, Aw jeah. A boy. Not my first rodeo. I can DO this I can be a boy mom!

Side note: I’ve heard wonderful things about raising daughters. I am not knocking daughters. Shoot, I AM a daughter. But, as someone who thrives on predictability and knowing what to expect, hearing the word “boy” was like God saying, “See? No more surprises.”

No more surprises.

I had my fair share of surprises before Charlie, didn’t I? My first pregnancy was a surprise. Two miscarriages were a surprise. Everything about my labor and delivery with Eddie was a surprise. Shoot, that was such a surprise it left me with a lovely case of PTSD.

Eddie is a dang surprise every day–both in all the good ways and some of the side-eye ways.

So another boy. I can do this. No surprises.

And then God fell off his chair laughing at me.  For the millionth time in my life, probably.

Yes, Charlie is a boy. Other than that, almost nothing has been the same as his older brother. From his birth, I kept waiting for Charlie to become colicky, have digestive issues, not sleep, but that never happened. He was–dare I say it–easy as a baby. He ate and slept and pooped. If he cried it was because he was hungry, tired, or poopy.  Ok, he didn’t even cry when he was poopy. He was even content to sit in his own dump.

Charlie was a laid back baby and trouble-maker toddler.

I haz it dat bowl peez?

I haz it dat bowl peez?

He is a charmer and knows that his big blue eyes and tiny polite voice can twist many a person around his little finger.

“peez I have it dat juice?”

“peez I have it dat cookie?

“peez I have it dessert?”

The last one he said through big crocodile tears just the other night after we told him no, because he didn’t even try his pork. Cortney was sitting next time him and set the ONE bite he needed to take in front of him and said, “If you want dessert, you need to take this one bite.” Charlie proceeded to yell, “NO!” in his tantrumy two-year old voice, cry and then look at me with two tears strategically placed under each eye, just about to drop. He turned his little mouth into a sad pouty frown, made his eyes huge, put his little hand out to me and whimpered, “I haz it peez, dessert?”

I so badly wanted to give him the damn dessert.

But Cortney held firm.

Eddie is my rule follower. You bet he ate the required dinner for the elusive, not-every-day dessert treat (not without massive whining, but he’s almost five, so you know). Charlie threw that tantrum just as far as it would go until he realized his daddy was NOT going to budge.

In fact, Charlie can be so stubborn, the very next night he ate zero dinner other than a couple raspberries and when asked if he wanted dessert he said, “NO!”

While his fits are loud and tearful, they are quick. If you just avoid saying, “no” to him, you can avoid the major meltdowns.

Yeah, about that.

“No” tends to be a dare for Charlie.

“Charlie, no no. Don’t stand on the couch.”

He will look at me as if I am making the world’s silliest request and say, “yes, mommy.”  As in, “duh, you stupid lady.”

He will fling himself off furniture. He will tumble down cement steps. He will fall backward off toys. He will jump…on and off anything. And then he will laugh his deep chuckly belly laugh.

He will see Eddie sitting nicely watching TV and tackle him. He will spy Eddie watching something on the tablet and stick his face in front of him. He will see Eddie playing with something and snatch it.

He is the button pusher, and Eddie is the button.

But he is a ball of love. He likes to sit on laps and hold hands and rub my arm and snuggle into my neck. He likes me to sing to him and rock him at bedtime. He likes to hold my face and push his to mine: nose to nose. He likes to whisper, “I yuv you, momma.”

His fine motor skills are ridiculous for a kid of his age.

I watch a lot of kids play with toys however they want, but Charlie likes to figure out how to play with them the way they are made to be played with, if that makes sense. He can manipulate twisting small parts and fitting puzzles together.

And he wants to be helpful. If I need him to come in the house, just saying “it’s time to come in,” will result in a meltdown. If I say, “Charlie, I need your help!” He will come RUNNING.

always fixing things for mommy.

always fixing things for mommy.

 

He says all the words and just 2 years and 3 month.

“I yuv you, mommy, daddy, Eddie,” unprompted, is probably my favorite. He listens and repeats absolutely everything and Cortney and I find ourselves cracking up and not at all keeping up with all his new words and phrases each day.

I want to find a way to bottle his tiny voice and keep it forever. I want to hear “bye bye mommy. I yuv you. have gate day!” every day for as long as I live.

I love the way he sees Cortney’s car in the garage as we pull in after daycare and announces, “YAY! Daddy home! Yay!”

I even love the way he laughs at me when I ask him if he is my boy, “nooo! Nae’s boy!” (Renae, his daycare mom. He might have her wrapped tightly around his finger. He truly is her boy.)

Every day he pulls another stunt, defies us in a new way, and laughs with abandon at something I didn’t know he was paying attention to, I think, “Man. This is NOTHING like the first time around. In many ways, THIS feels like the first time too!”

Because of course it does.

This is the first time I am Charlie’s mom.

always mommy's boy.

always mommy’s boy.

Always There

This weekend while digging through my purse for some aspirin for a teenager with a headache, I pulled a pipey (pacifier) out of my purse.

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We both laughed when she said to me, “I guess you can’t put being a mom on hold even for a couple days, huh Mrs Sluiter?”

I realized what she said was incredibly true; I am never really apart from my boys.

When we were in Chicago with just Eddie, each of us commented numerous times about things Charlie would like. Eddie even pointed out the fourth seat in all the restaurants adding, “if Charlie was here, that is where he would sit.”

On this trip, I caught myself smiling at things that Cortney would have commented on with an inside joke or one of his dry, witty comments. I saw places I wanted us to go to together.

I thought often of Eddie and how he would have either loved everything about the Rain Forest Cafe or he would have been terrified by all the loud noises. I imagined him seeing Navy Pier and going to the Children’s Museum and loving the BIG BOATS in the bay.

I smiled when I saw the stuffed lions at the Rain Forest Cafe and how Charlie’s immediate reaction would have been to ROAR at them. I said words the way my boys do, even though nobody really “got it” but me.

Before falling asleep I put a pillow on the side of the bed where Cortney would have been so I could roll over and put my butt on it the way I back up to him (he hates it, calls me a bed hog). I also imagined holding his hand as I fell asleep so I wouldn’t feel lonely in that bed alone.

When I woke the next morning my first thought was my three boys back home, and as if they knew that, a text came through with a picture from Cortney of the two little guys smiling over their breakfast plates with a “Good morning, Momma!” caption.

I had so much fun on the trip. While I wouldn’t call it relaxing because we were so busy, teenagers are less needy than little ones, so other than handing out aspirin from time to time, there wasn’t much “mothering” I had to do.  It was a break.

But I was so glad to get home to my favorite three dudes in the whole world.

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And I know they were happy to see me too…even if it was just for the stuffed animals and sombreros I brought home for them.

*************

You all have overwhelmed me with your gracious kindness that you are showing to me and my students. All the book donations that have come in so far have bumped my sad little classroom library from only 104 books to almost 320!! If you want to take a look at my wish list, you can find it here.

Also at the tail end of last week I found out that an article I co-authored will be published in the Language Arts Journal of Michigan.

And if those things weren’t awesome enough, I found yesterday (Monday) that I have been chosen as one of BlogHer’s 2014 Voices of the Year.

The good is very good.

Sometimes It’s Hard

I enjoy writing about the sweet moments of motherhood: the funny things Eddie says, the innocent questions, Charlie’s belly laugh and fearless nature.

But sometimes it’s not sweet.

Sometimes this motherhood thing sort of sucks, if I am being honest.

It’s an unpredictable, patience-trying grind of hard.

It’s Charlie’s refusal to listen when we say “no” or his adamant nonacceptance of sitting in timeout when he has made an egregious error like hitting his brother, slapping me, or throwing toy tubs at people.

It’s Eddie incessant whining when we say no to tablet time or candy or more chocolate milk.

It’s sassy mouths and scream-crying at bedtime.

It’s lollygagging and stalling when we are in a hurry.

It’s ignored requests and disobedience.

It’s 10 minutes of fighting after 10 seconds of playing nicely.

It’s all the water that ends up out of the tub and onto the floor, walls, toilet, and me.

It’s the high-pitched scream of “MINE!” from Charlie.

It’s Eddie’s long-drawn out “CHAAAAARRRLIE!” when his brother does so much as breathe wrong.

It’s the way Charlie planks his whole body when I try to buckle him into his car seat after daycare…and a long day of work.

It’s the way Eddie thrashes his whole body when he doesn’t get his way.

And then…

boys3

Contrary to what some mothers will say, these sweet moments do NOT make it “all better” for me. They don’t wipe out the headache or the wound up feeling in my tummy. But they do soften the blow.

As much as this motherhood thing is lovely and miraculous and more love than I thought my heart could ever handle, it is really hard sometimes.

And sometimes I just need to admit that.

Because He is Two

I love birthdays.  LOVE THEM. I feel like the entire world is supposed to make sure everything is just a little more awesome for you on your birthday.

So when Charlie woke up on Thursday as a two-year-old, I burst into his room with a “HAPPY BIRTH–”

He stood smiling in his crib with his balled up jammy pants in one hand, and a very wet diaper in the other.

“I poot,” he announced, and yes, I could smell it.

My heart raced, but there was no “poot” in his crib…just a crumb of one in his diaper.

“Where? where did you poot, Charlie?”

“I POOT!”

Thankfully Cortney had the wherewithal to take the nekkid booty baby and put a clean diaper on him while I searched. I left the room, came back, could still smell it, and searched some more.

It was under the rocking chair.

Across the room from his bed.

Thus started The Bird’s Second birthday.  We should have all agreed that was the highlight of the day and quit trying. But birthdays are AWESOME! It can only go up from here!  Onward and upward!

I forgot about a birthday treat for daycare.

It’s ok! Tomorrow!  Tomorrow he can bring one!

Off he went to daycare, in his new “2″ shirt.

The plan was that I would pick up a small birthday cake and meet Cort with the boys home by 5pm to head to Red Robin (YUM!) for birthday dinner. We always do birthday dinner at a restaurant, and long ago Eddie decided ALL birthday dinners take place at Red Robin (YUM!).

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The downfall of the evening was chocolate milk coupled with Charlie’s deep disdain of getting out of routine. By going out to eat rather than home, and then by not allowing him to get more chocolate milk (because he was wearing half of the first glass), created an evil vortex of toddler rage that began at the table and forced me into the ladies room with him so the rest of the patrons could eat their Red Robin (YUM!) tantrum-free.

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When he calmed down and I asked him if he wanted to go back to the table he declared, “no! I walk here.”

Dude wanted to stay in the bathroom and play.

Um. no.

I talked him into going back to the table only to arrive and have Eddie tell me with concern that he had to use the restroom. For the third time.

So I took him back to the ladies room, got him in a stall to do his business, and held his door shut.

In a small voice he explained he was having a hard time going with his boots and pants on because it was hard to balance, so I helped the little guy remove the constricting clothing and carry on with his business.

This is when I took the opportunity to peek out of the bathroom at our table. Charlie had become an anger ball again, and I could see Cortney didn’t know what to do since he couldn’t leave the table.  I leaned out of the bathroom and gestured to let Charlie just come to the bathroom since I know that is what he wanted.  I told Cort to just pay the bill, box up the food, and grab our stuff.

So there I was, in the ladies room (thank all the goodness that no one came into the restroom during all this), with a half nekkid boy on the can and a toddler running around slamming stall doors. It felt like it took our waitress and Cortney an eternity to get the bill squared away, but eventually he came walking to the restroom with our coats.

Eddie was sad because he had really been very good and he was looking forward to the staff singing to Charlie, and Charlie was raging because he is two.  He tried to plank himself when we got in the car for no other reason than he could, which prompted him to cry LOUDLY the entire way home.

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Cake seemed to cheer him up.

And eating the cake. Although we went through the “do you want cake?”
“NO!”
“No cake?”
“NO!”
“Ok…”
cue all the tears because we aren’t serving him cake.
“Do you want cake?”
“yesh peeese.”
Sigh.

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Then there was some more drama about getting cleaned up to open the gift.

And more madness when big brother wanted to help “too much”.

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Once the gift was open and put together and everyone had jammies on…there was fighting over the new toy.

So we put it away, turned on Curious George, calmed down, and went to bed.

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The day was…trying.

Charlie is now two and very two.

We had a party for him with just family on Saturday which went a bit better, but Charlie’s strong-will and headstrong ways increase each day.

Because he is two.

Charlies Second Birthday

 

Happy Second Birthday, Charlie.

We love you!

 

 

 

 

 

and then you were two

Charlie

Planned and prepped
smooth
peaceful
arrival.

Jokes and laughter
Given to Fly
calm
birth.

Silent and feathery
tranquil sleep
soft
snuggles.

Cries for food
quiet
sighs
days.

Rolling and crawling
observing
so
serious.

Watching and waiting
learning
processing
growing.

Suddenly and surprisingly
awkward
tumbling
skill-building.

Quiet and reserved
to
brave
boisterous.

Testing and side-eyeing
nooooooo
scowls
boundaries.

Jumping and running
loud
naughty
sweet.

Silly and giggly
expressions
words
personality.

Slowly and rapidly
changing
developing
Two.

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Happy second birthday to my Charlie Bird.

Words seem small compared to your big personality and giant spot in my heart.

I love you, Birdie.

*************

When Eddie turned two, I wrote him a poem as well. So it’s a thing now.

A Hairy Timeline

Cortney has been telling me for about a year that Charlie needed a haircut. I brushed it off until he made me a deal that he wouldn’t insist on a haircut if I agree that one will need to happen around Charlie’s second birthday (Eddie’s haircut was when he was two. Granted he was bald until he was almost one, but still).

Yesterday (Monday) was haircut day.

I have been thinking about it way WAY more than I should.

It’s just hair after all, right?

Before I was a mom I just didn’t get what the fuss was about baby’s first haircut. It’s JUST HAIR.

I regretfully take back all my know-it-all-ness.

And give you Charlie’s Hairy Timeline….

Charlie was born with what appeared to be pre-styled senator hair. Dapper little Bird.

Charlie was born with what appeared to be pre-styled senator hair. Dapper little Bird. My nephew said it was as soft as feathers.

By a month, the brown feathers have started to thin.

By a month, the brown feathers have started to thin.

 

Around six months he was back the style. My mom swore I was cutting it to the perfect style on the sly. I was not.

Around six months he was back the style. My mom swore I was cutting it to the perfect style on the sly. I was not.

By age one we were saying the first hints of "shaggy hair"

By age one we were saying the first hints of “shaggy hair”

 

Around 15 months we started realizing he also had the curl gene just like Eddie and Cortney.

Around 15 months we started realizing he also had the curl gene just like Eddie and Cortney.

Only six months ago I had to start trimming his bangs to keep them out of his eyes.

Only six months ago I had to start trimming his bangs to keep them out of his eyes.

 

Just before Christmas people started to comment that it was getting a bit long. So naturally I fell in love with it.

Just before Christmas people started to comment that it was getting a bit long. So naturally I fell in love with it.

Just a month ago.

Just a month ago.

 

Last week Thursday.

Last week Thursday.

waiting for cousin Rachel to finish cutting Eddie's hair so he can go next.

waiting for cousin Rachel to finish cutting Eddie’s hair so he can go next.

 

The last shot of the curls before they are cut off.

The last shot of the curls before they are cut off.

He did so well, though he seemed concerned the entire time.

He did so well, though he seemed concerned the entire time.

 

Haircuts = no smiles. It's serious  business.

Haircuts = no smiles. It’s serious business.

Hey ladies, I've got my first haircut. How you like me now?

Hey ladies, I’ve got my first haircut. How you like me now?

 

The curls are gone.

The curls are gone.

I am…not Ok yet.

But I will be.

For whatever reason the first haircut is the hardest.

I already told Cortney if there is a hint of curl after we wash it, you know I won’t be getting it cut for another six months…at least. Because I already miss burying my nose in those soft curls.

Especially because his hair smelled like cheese tonight after dinner.

Goodnight, Bird

“Charlie, are you ready for bed? Go night night?”

“noooo!” he tells me in his tiny voice, shaking his head so that his too-long hair flops around his face. “NO nigh nigh!” He furrows his brow at me.

“Charlie…do you want to rock-a-bye?  With Momma and Woof Woof and Blankie? Come rock with Momma?”

“Ah nigh nigh. Ah rock bye.” And he gathers up his puppy and blankie, tucking them snugly under each arm, and trots off to his room.

“Nigh nigh, Dad-do! Nigh nigh Ah-dee!” He calls as he waves.  Sometimes he stops for hugs and kisses. When he does decide to give kisses and hugs, he is very aggressive about it. If Eddie tries to get away without meeting Charlie’s demands for goodnight kisses and hugs, feet begin to stamp and a very small voice gets very, very big. “AH DEE! AH DEE NIGH NIGH!”

As I begin walking down the hallway towards his room, I can hear his little feet trucking after me.

He closes the door himself and finds me waiting for him in the glider. I pick him up and tuck him into the empty spaces against me. If I am not quick enough, he will look up at me and demand, “boat, ma ma. boat.”

And so I start singing Row, Row, Row Your Boat while he pushes his little fingers through the crochet of his blankie.

In the breath after I sing, he quickly mutters, “song,” from behind his Pipey.

This is my cue to begin singing You Are My Sunshine.

Sometimes he gazes up at me while I sing, but mostly he just rests his head in the spot on my chest that has pillowed his head since his first day.

Sometimes he pulls Woof Woof to his face, but mostly he lets his fingers weave in and out of his blankie.

After two songs we rock silently until he sits up and looks at me.

“Do you want to lay in your bed with Glowie?” I ask him.

He nods and mutters, “Yup”.

I scoop him up and hold him close, sniffing his hair and smootching that squishy cheek. I wish I fit in the crib with him so I could soak in his warm smell all night.  It’s so soothing.

But he leans toward his bed and I carefully lay him down on his pillow. He rolls to one side as I turn Glowie on, tuck blankie around him, and find his kitty and baby to lay next to him.

Goodnight, Bird

His face is so close to Glowie’s lit up face that his nose is almost touching the soft light of the glow worm. I stroke his cheek.

“Nigh night, Charlie Bird. I love you so much. Sleep tight and sweet dreams.”

He never utters a word as I leave, and it always appears that he will drift right off to sleep.  Yet less than five minutes later, I can hear him happily chattering with his Woof Woof and kitty and baby and Glowie.  Sometimes I hear him jumping in his bed.  Sometimes I hear him kicking the wall.

He almost never cries out or calls for us.

Eventually he finds a spot and falls asleep.

He is our “good” sleeper. Rarely does he need a buddy or help. Seldom does the throw a fit in protest of bedtime–any bed time be it nap or night time.

There are times I wish he “needed” me more, times I wish he wanted to cuddle and fall asleep on me. There are times I wish he just wanted to sleep in my arms.

Most of the time, though, I am Ok with his easy bedtime routine.

Besides Eddie still needs me to lie next to him at night until he falls asleep, and if I am lucky, he will curl up against me and breathe softly near my face.

Goodnight, Bird

two two

Dear Charlie,

You are twenty-two months today; two months from turning two.

It’s hit me sort of funny in a way I wasn’t expecting.  We were going along with life, being busy with the holidays and New Year and then suddenly…it was only two months until your birthday.  Two months to two years.

Charlie 22 months

You have changed and grown so much.

I search for that sleepy baby with the hair like feathers that once curled up under my chin in a swaddle to nap. I don’t know where he went.

I search for that quiet, stoic baby who took everything in and refused to smile on demand for anyone. I don’t know where he went either.

You spent your whole first year somehow connected to me. Ok, at least your first six months. The next six months I had to go back to work, but when I was with you, you were on my hip or in a carrier or on my lap.  If we went anywhere, you clung to me.

You’ve always loved your daddy (Dad-do, as you call him), but in the past few months you’ve acquired quite an affinity for doing whatever he is doing. As soon as you hear the garage door open you pop your head up and say, “OH! DAD-DO!” Then when you hear the door open you jump off my lap or spring from the floor and haul buns to the gate at the top of the stairs yelling, “DAD-DO! HI!” You want him to hold you, read to you, tickle you.

I love watching that.

Charlie 22 months

You’ve starting clearly saying Eddie’s name to: AH-DEE.

When you see his picture you say his name. When he walks in the room, you point and announce him. He is very independent, but you are more cautious about new places. When Eddie sees that you are are upset in a new place (like nursery at church), he so kindly calls you over to play so your dad and I can slip out. He takes care of you and wants to make sure you are Ok.

Because he has started playing with you, you have become slightly obsessed with being able to do every single thing AH-DEE does. If he gets juice, you want juice. If he gets a twizzler, you need one too.  If he is coloring, you climb up on a kitchen chair to do it too.  Usually Eddie is very patient with you, but sometimes–like when you try to actually sit ON him by the kitchen table–he loses his cool and calls me in for reinforcements.

Those are the times you get mad, Bird.

Charlie 22 months

Recently we were up north with the majority of the Sluiter Family and everyone commented on how you were SO GOOD. How you NEVER fussed.  Your dad and I just laughed because you totally “fuss”. In fact, you throw balls to the wall tantrums.

When we have to tell you “no”, that is unacceptable to you. You scream. You cry. Your legs stop working and you refuse to be anything but toddler dead weight on the floor.

If we try to pick you up, you arch backward or hit or scratch or pull hair.

You are a bit more of a beast than a Bird as of late.

But only when you don’t get your way.  The rest of the time you are happy and chipper and so SO funny.

Charlie 22 months

You are quite the chatterbox, but only when you are comfortable with your surroundings. At home you talk non-stop. My favorite thing is after we put you down to nap or to bed for the night because you will chatter on in there with your stuffies for up to thirty minutes! I can hear you doing the “woof woof” sound for your puppy and “meow” sound for your kitty and tons of other “talking” sounds. Eventually you talk yourself out and fall asleep.

Your vocabulary expands by the day. Just today you asked me to read you the “Elmo” book. You said “Ah-MOE, MAMA”, so we read it. You pointed out Abbie and looked at me while I said it. Then you went through the book again and you kept pointing her out for me to say. Finally at the end, you pointed out “AH-MOE” and then you pointed and said, “AH-BAY BEE”.

Then you pursed your lips in that little smirk that tells me you are pretty darn proud of yourself.

Your hand-eye coordination/fine motor skills are almost ridiculous for a kid your age. Today daddy watched as you put each shape into your shape-sorter correctly with no help. You don’t jam and cram, you carefully twist each piece in the hole you know it goes in. You do this with puzzle pieces and Duplos too.   I watched you pick up a crayon the other day at the doctor’s office to color while we waited for our turn. You picked it up and held it correctly. I just watched.

Charlie 22 months

Books are your newest and favorite thing. I think we have read Hippos Go Berzerk over a thousand times…just today. I love this new love of yours, but seriously, let’s expand to some other stories. We have a whole PILE of board books.

I do that a lot with you, Charlie. I just watch you play. I watch you go about what seems to be your “work”. You can be so serious about it all, but you love to play. You love to explore. You love to figure out how things work.

Your favorite things are Duplos, BIG trucks, stuffies and blankies, and anything Eddie is doing. You love to run and laugh, and one of my favorite things is your deep, belly laugh. I also love how much you love to run around the house without a stitch of clothing on. I can tell you feel free and I know I have to throw a diaper on you because you WILL pee on the carpet, but you just love to RUN! Your blond curls fly behind you as you book it through the entire upstairs just laughing until tears stream down your face.

I hope you always have a love for Eddie and your Dad-do and your MAMA.  I hope you always have a belly full of chuckles.

Charlie 22 months

It’s hard to watch you go from baby to little boy. My arms ache for that tiny birdie you once were. My nose remembers your baby smell.  My heart hurts when I think about cutting your hair in a couple months (because that is the deal I have with daddy. I get baby hair for two years. Then snip snip).

Charlie 22 months

Two more months of “baby”.

I will take that two months and I will snuggle it up.

bye, bye baby

001

I remember this time…around 20 months…when suddenly baby legs are long and their walk not so much a toddle of a drunken sailor anymore.

009

I remember looking at Eddie one day wondering where the baby went–the tiny wailing mush-pile in my arms.

015

 

Tiny babies are suddenly everywhere and I look around our house and realize that none of them live here anymore.

033

 

Oh the busyness is still there.  It is not stop running and jabbering and crying and quarreling and eating and playing in our house, but these are the sounds of little boys, not babies.

035

 

Gone are the days of complete helplessness. There is a helper around every corner now–sometimes willing, other times not. Voices can now tell me “yes” and “no”.

037

Everyone in this house can take direction…even if he acts like he can’t sometimes.

048

There are no more baby sounds or smells. No bottles lining the counter or baby food piled in the pantry. Instead there are sippy cups of sour milk hiding behind chairs and messes that Nobody made.

049

 

There are tantrums and fits and “NO!” and “MINE!” yelled through the house so loudly I wonder if the windows will break.

050

 

But if I am quiet and still, I can still sometimes smell that infant scent lingering on your skin and in your hair. And I can still hear little gurgles and coos coming from your crib where you still find comfort and sleep.

052

 

Your skin is still soft and squishy even if it’s stretched out over a little boy and not all wrinkled up on a baby.

066

 

And when it’s silent and dark in the house, you would still rather lie close to me, matching your breathing to mine, while I hold your hand and run my fingers through your soft hair.

069

 

I know though that the baby is on his way out, and the little boy is on his way in. I’m not a stranger to this stage. But I won’t let the baby go without giving it a bit of a fight.

I’ll hold on to those curls and that softness as long as you will let me, Charlie Bird.

Happy Twenty Months, my lovie.

~Momma

 

 

 

 

My Halloweenies

Halloween is not my favorite holiday.

Cortney and I never got into dressing up or going to any parties (not that we were invited).

When I was a kid, we weren’t deprived of Halloween or anything, but it wasn’t a big deal.

We had homemade costumes and we went trick or treating in our cousin’s neighborhood since we didn’t really have a neighborhood.

No one came trick or treating to our house either.

When they can’t see the house from the road because of woods, most kids won’t walk up that driveway.

So when Cort and I moved to a subdivision, I was all excited about the trick or treaters…until we had the million kids come the first year and we had to get a loan for the payments on all that candy.

Any excitement I have ever had for Halloween died after that first year in our house.

But we have kids now.  And while Charlie probably wouldn’t care one way or another, Eddie certainly does. We were not going to bee scrooge mcscrooge pants just because we  don’t like the “holiday,” so we sucked it up and brought the fun.

Hunting for the perfect pumpkins

Cort explains size and shape for perfect carve-ability.

Cort explains size and shape for perfect carve-ability.

 

No, this is not his costume. That is his legit stocking hat.

No, this is not his costume. That is his legit stocking hat.

Time to carve. Cort explains the process to Eddie.

Time to carve. Cort explains the process to Eddie.

 

While he was interested, he was still too grossed out to touch the guts. He told me "maybe when I'm five." Yeah. Maybe.

While he was interested, he was still too grossed out to touch the guts. He told me “maybe when I’m five.” Yeah. Maybe.

The finished products. Cort carved Eddies (left), and I carved Charlie's (right).

The finished products. Cort carved Eddies (left), and I carved Charlie’s (right).

 

Eddie chose to be the Flash this year while Charlie was a dinosaur by default (it's what we had already)

Eddie chose to be the Flash this year while Charlie was a dinosaur by default (it’s what we had already)

Neither trusted the other when it came to candy.

Neither trusted the other when it came to candy.

 

Regardless of the candy, Halloween is not really Charlie's favorite either. But Eddie LOVED it.

Regardless of the candy, Halloween is not really Charlie’s favorite either. But Eddie LOVED it.

Eddie had the biggest blast ever.

He got to go to the Pumpkin Patch with school and then with us. He got to choose his own costume (because $20 for a Flash costume is less than I would spend to try to make a Flash costume). He got a boat-load of candy. And he got to have a party at school.  Although this conversation happened:

Me: Eddie! How was your Pumpkin Party at school today??

Eddie: Fine.

Me: That’s it? Wasn’t it so fun?

Eddie: Yeah, but it wasn’t a REAL party.

Me: Wait. What? Why not?

Eddie: There was no dancing. Parties have dancing, mom.

Well. Ok then. Kid knows what he likes in a party.

And he will probably be eating Halloween candy until…Christmas–when I through it out just to replace it with all the new candy he will get.

Halloween is still not my favorite, but I do like seeing my boys have a good time.

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