holyboogers

It’s amazing to me how each day with Noah will remind me of moments I shared with Ryan when he was younger.

A few days ago I had Noah sitting on my lap, facing me.  I zoomed him backward so that he was upside down and tickled that chubby tummy of his until I extracted the greatest of belly laughs.  I then pulled him back up to me to observe that goofy new crooked-toothed smile of his, one top tooth fully grown, the other just coming in :)  How cute can you get?  Well, he decided that this whole upside down thing was just too much fun to pass up and pushed his legs off my chest with such force that I had to catch him as he flew backward, giggling the entire time.  I tickled him once again and pulled him back up just so he could push himself back again and again :)  This seems to be one of his new favorite games to play with me now and when he first discovered that being upside down was just that much fun, I immediately remembered when Ryan made this dicovery as well.  And that’s when the smile quickly jumped onto my face and I began to laugh right there with Noah.  These simple discoveries that we witness our children making has got to be one of the most amazing aspects of parenthood, that’s for sure.  And that would bring me to Noah’s second new form of amuzement.

He’s now discovered that dropping items onto the floor from his highchair is captivating.  He’ll sit there with his head and arm dangling off to the side of his chair and slowly let go of whatever it is he’s holding in his chubby fist.  And of course, we make a game out of it now :)  “uh oh,” I’ll say.  To that, he’ll giggle and do it again.  Of course.  I can definitely laugh about the adorableness of these moments, the way his head is tilted to one side, the sound of his voice as he laughs and how my reaction makes him want to do it all over again.  But man does the cleanup stink! :)  Today was the first day he’s done this in a restaurant and I must have looked truly interesting to onlookers as I was on my knees picking up after the mess when all was said and done.  But hey - he was happy

I’ve been planning for quite some time now to take Ryan sledding with my  mom’s group.  When I originally made these plans, I made the assumption that Jay would be back from Portugal and I would therefor have help with the boys.  I’ve since come to realize that I just shouldn’t assume anything when it comes to Jay’s work.  Yes, he’s still in Portugal.

I woke this morning not wanting to get out of bed, but very excited for what lay ahead of us.  Come 9:30, I had the boys bundled up, I had the backpack carrier (where I was planning on putting Noah) set to go as well as all the other objects I would need for this excursion down the street;  snowpants, mittens, hats, camera.  I take both boys out to the car.  I get Noah buckled into his carseat and turn to the other side of the car with Ryan.  The door is just slightly ajar.  You have got to be kidding me, right?  I knew the disappointment that lay in front of me because sadly, I’ve done this before.  I place the key in the ignition, the slightest bit of hope still lurking within me.  No luck.  The battery is dead.  Ugh!  I take Ryan by the hand, pull Noah from the car, and head back indoors to make a couple of phone calls.  Luckily, I was able to catch one of my friends before she left her home to meet me at the sledding hill and she was able to stop here first and jump my care.  It worked, thank goodness!

I’m off.  Both boys are back in the car, all our gear spread out on the seats.  We arrive at the hill ten minutes later.  I get Ryan into his snowsuit, finish bundling him up.  I take Noah from his carseat and place his snowsuit on as well and then place him in the backpack carrier.  Then I take a minute to bundle myself up, hitch Noah to my back and make our way to the tunnel that I’ve been told is suppose to take us under the road and to the hill.  Whoah…they weren’t kidding when they called it a tunnel!  I was assuming it would be more like a narrow pathway, but a tunnel it was.  Circular in shape, and very low to the ground.  I found myself squatting rather low, an extra 25 pounds strapped to my back.  But we make it to the other end.  Success!  And that’s where the true fun begins. 

Immediately I see that the hill is shear ice.  And it’s huge!  Probably the largest hill I’ve ever been sledding on.  We’re slipping and sliding on the way up, but I find my footing on a narrow patch of grass and Ryan follows suit.  We make it to the top where I explain our tardiness to another friend of mine who has been there for over an hour at this point.  Thank goodness she’s an understanding person! :)  I scope out the hill and find the smallest portion.  I take Noah off my back and prop him up so he can watch what we’re doing.  Ryan finds his way into the sled, I give him a slight push, and off he goes…slowly at first and then faster, and faster.  Whoah…I put my hands on my head, my teeth biting my lower lip in anticipation of…there he goes!  He falls from the sled and tumbles on his side three times over.  When his little body finally comes to a stop he sits there crying and there’s no easy way I can get to him.  I end up sliding on my butt on the ice until I reach him.  He hugs me and the tears end.  We begin walking back up the hill and that’s when I realize I’m on the absolute wrong end of this thing to be climbing up!  I see where I need to be, where my feet will pick into more sturdy snow instead of this sheer ice that I keep slipping on.  I get in the sled and place Ryan in front of me, push off, and down we goooooo.   So fast!  I’m laughing as we end and get out of the sled, start trudging back up the hill.  Ryan begins to fuss and for the seven or eight minutes it takes us to get back to the top, the fussing doesn’t cease.  First he’s just upset that he’s slipping, then he’s angry that his mitten continues to fall from his wrist, then I’m convinced he just wants to continue on the path of crankiness since he’s begun it already anyway. :) 

We make it to the top.  There’s  a small shed that we enter and I see that my friend has got a happy Noah in her arms.  I’m so very thankful for the help!  “Snack Momma.”  Yeah…that’s Ryan.  I tell him that I don’t have a snack to which he throws himself on the ground in an hysterical fit.  Oh joy!  My girlfriend whispers that she’s got a cereal bar in her bag that he’s welcome to have.  I tell Ryan that he’s welcome to have a bar that our friends have brought, but that it’s not in my bag so we have to ask politely if we can eat it.  He wants to ask me, but refuses to ask our friends, so his fit continues.  Eventually I state that if he doesn’t stop with his behavior, we’re headed to the car and going home. To this, he screams louder.  I repeat myself one last time and when his fit doesn’t stop, I start getting Noah ready to go by placing him back in the backpack carrier.  I take Ryan by the hand and lead him down the hill.  “Bar, Momma.  Snack, Momma.”  He repeats this all the way down the icy hill, through the tunnel that I’m squatting to get through once again, and in the parking lot by the car.  “Bar, Momma,” he says as he loses footing and falls on his knees into a large pile of mud making him cry with even more intensity.  Of course. 

I eventually get both boys snuggled into their carseats and we head home.  Ryan cries the entire way through periodic breaks of “bar, Momma!  Snack, Momma!”  Once we pull the car into the driveway, the tears tend to slowly cease their downfall although he’s still asking me for a snack. 

And this was just our morning

Yet, through this all, I find that I put my boys to bed at night and my heart swells with this love.  I can almost feel the pull throughout my entire body as if the feeling were in actuality, part of my bloodstream, coursing fast and fully.  I was getting Ryan’s pajama’s on this evening and he saw that I had his Superman pj’s for him.  “Superman!”  he exclaims.  “I want my cape, Momma!”  This makes me smile. We head to the kitchen where his cape is kept, he extends his back to me, and I put it on.  He’s beaming as if he were an adult that was just handed a thousand dollars to do whatever they please with it.  I pull him to me, hug his body to mine, kiss his blonde head of hair over and over again.  He giggles.  I do it more.

Three years old is going to be a challenge.  I can feel it.  And yet I know that each evening when we’re laying in bed together as I sing him to sleep, these challenges will be far from the forefront of my mind.  I’ll be looking at his blue eyes bearing into mine with adoration, with happiness and fulfillment, and that’s all I need. 

Our power went out. An enormous ice storm hit southern NH and left approximately 500,000 people without their heat, hot water, lights. The fly on the wall watching me at 3 am on Friday morning must have been having his hysteria fit as Noah decides to poop, which he never does in the middle of the night. But I heard it. 3 o’clock in the morning. How do I know what time it was if my power was out? I cuddle Noah in my arms and walk through the pitch-black cold hallways of my house, his head nestled to my chest so I won’t accidently bonk him on the wall. I find my way to the kitchen and then feel my way through the drawer that holds our candle lighter. Flick. It’s on. I light a few candles, place Noah on the floor and proceed to undress him. No poop. You have got to be kidding me! I got up for nothing? Apparently he had a big case gas! Go figure. I dress his body back up, cuddle him in my arms once again, and then walk the few steps to where my cell phone had been charging on the countertop. I flip it open and that’s how I learn the time. This is also my light-source for the rest of the night as I find my way back through the hallways to my bedroom and later as I take a cranky Noah to his swing at 5:30 in the morning because I’m eager to do absolutely anything it takes to get a few more minutes of sleep!

Sleep I did…and the light was slowly illuminating my room when I woke for the day. An hour! I’m now in love with the baby swing! Ryan and I get out of bed and I check on Noah who would still be sleeping for another few minutes. Darn is it cold in my house! When Noah wakes I actually wrap him in a snowsuit to keep his body warm. I get breakfast ready (a wholesome meal of Nutrigrain bars because I have no power in my house…ha!) and once Ryan is done eating I decide that I’ve got to get the boys out of the house and into a warmer area. Hey…the power was bound to be back on when we got home from our day out, right? So I pack the diaper bag with a few diapers and I head out the door to the mall. Boy did I underestimate this storm. Roads were blocked with tree branches not only on the ground, but weighted down so heavily with ice that they scratch the top of my car. I’m swearving as if I had a bit too much to drink just to dodge the roadblocks and salvage my wheels. We head to the mall where I thought for sure we’d be all set. I open the trunk to get our double stroller out and ready to accomodate the boys and that’s when I learn that we’ve got a leak in the trunk. The entire stroller was soaked through with water and a puddle lay on the top where it decided to make it’s home. I take it out and shake it off and decide to let Ryan walk and place Noah in the front carrier, all 19 1/2 pounds of him. Ryan was good to go but I end up waking Noah in the process and had a very cranky baby on my hands for the duration of our time in the mall. We walk to the entrance and learn that half the mall has power and the other hald does not. Okay…I can do this. I let Ryan play in the toddler play area and then we walk around the mall. I think we must have been there for a total of an hour, my back aching with the weight of Noah, when there just simply isn’t anything else for us to do. I call a girlfriend and we go to her house for the rest of the afternoon. Thank goodness she has power, and thank goodness too, that she’s such a wonderful woman to take us in for that amount of time!

Now the gravity of our situation hits me as I speak to my friend and speak to others on the phone, listen to the news. Our power was possibly going to be down for days. I call my mother and leave a message on her cell phone to let her know she’d have unanticipated company for the night I hadn’t packed a single thing and was most definitely not ready to spend the night out of our home, but I was already half way to her home and I would much rather go straight there than make the trip back to our house and then all the way to mom’s chancing a screaming baby and a cranky toddler in the car for that amount of time. I’m thinking that was a good decison

We get to mom’s and learn that my sister and her husband are also out of power and would be spending the night as well. This is when we talk about pipes freezing, about all my food going bad, about the 700 plus ounces of breastmilk I have in my deep freezer spoiling. The breastmilk in itself is enough to form a nauseatiing feeling in the pit of my stomach. And for the yummy icing on this most delicious cake is the fact that my husband is still in Portugal.

I suppose the above is all a prelude, an explanation, an excuse of sorts, to what happens next. I do some shopping with my sister and her son the following day. I lose my keys. Ha! But of course, right? Luckily, the keys are soon discovered in a store. Thank goodness for that! I follow her to the mall where she wants her son to see Santa and I agree to go along with the boys. I get Ryan out of the car, walk to the other side, open the door and realize that Noah has fallen asleep. I don’t want to chance waking him up as he’s been uncharacteristically cranky these past couple of days so I tell her I’ll just meet her back at our mother’s house. She moves along. I close Noah’s door, take Ryan by the hand, bump myself on the car and drop something at the same time, and I suppose the elastic ball of stressors that have slowly built up has flung one of it’s pieces off and instead of my exhaling an “oh boogers,” which is what normally comes out of my mouth, I let it out. “Oh, sh**!” And then of course there’s this little man beside me, holding my hand and paying attention to a toy he’s grasping. Eyes are downcast. I don’t even think he’s paying attention. I’m wrong. Almost immediately I hear “Oh, sh**!” My steps pause. I look down at him, but I don’t react. I don’t want him thinking that this is funny or that it’s something that can attract Mommy’s attention so quickly and therefor, definitely something to do again. Instead I wait. And thank goodness, he doesn’t say it again, doesn’t even look up at me. Phew…

The kicker? I’m on my family’s case all the time to watch their mouth around Ryan. He’s at an age now where he catches on to absolutely everything around him. He’ll hear something once and that’s all it takes. We underestimate the abilities of our children day after day, that’s for sure. I’m constantly attempting to substitute a four-letter word spilling out of my mother and my sister’s mouths with an equivalent to one of my “holy boogers” phrases. And with all this prodding, I’m the one that he imitates. One of the very few times I’ve slipped, and he catches on. Hmmm…

Luckily, he hasn’t said this again. My fingers are crossed. I suppose it was bound to happen at some point. Let’s just hope I’m not in the middle of a playdate or in line at the supermarket when he drops a toy and belts out to a quiet room “oh, sh**!” The fly on the wall who thought he had his fix of hysterical moments would realize he had room for one more and would fall to my feet laughing at how my countenance would transform so suddenly and will never again see such a shade of red.

I made dinner one-handed tonight.  Noah was just not having it…so anxious I was to place him in his swing and have him rock back and forth, fist in his mouth, a smile on his face.  But that wasn’t happening.  The only place he wanted to be tonight was in my arms, so there I went…to the kitchen stove to make a simple pasta dinner, stirring spoon in one hand, Noah on the opposite hip, my arm supporting his back.  Dinner made, I ladeled out Ryan’s pasta into his dish, Noah still resting happily on my hip.  Ryan satisfied for the moment, I sat in my chair about to eat my dinner as well when Noah made it mighty clear to me that I wasn’t about to leave him out…no way!  So…I ate dinner one-handed tonight also as I nursed Noah.  What?  Ryan wants more?  Darn!  It’s on the stove.  Drop my fork and lift my body out of my chair, now 19 pounds heavier as Noah is still attatched to my breast.  Man am I a pro at multi-tasking!  Dinner ends and I have absolutely no time to clean up as I’ve got to get the boys up to the bathroom and then to bed. 

Today held a “first.”  I’ve got a mighty big boy :)  19 pounds in a 4-month body…yeah, he’s got some massive baby chunk loaded on.  So much so that he’s outgrowing his infant tub.  If he could sit unassisted, that would be one thing.  I could simply place him in the tub along with Ryan.  But that’s the most ideal situation and we all know that when we’ve got children, you’re jumping day-to-day…you make do with what you’ve got, and you figure out various ways of doing things.  You adjust.  And tonight Noah DID take a bath with his brother.  Yesterday I was at Babies R Us and purchased a bath seat that would help to support Noah in what we call “the big boy tub.”  Holy crap, my baby was in the big boy tub!  Already??  Gone is the infant tub, stored away, perhaps never to be used again.  -sigh-

I fill the tub with water and Ryan hops in.  He’s so intriqued with this new seat in the bath with him and immediately wants to climb all over it.  I tell him that this is Noah’s new tub and that his body is too big for it.  Those aren’t the words he wanted to hear, so instead of climbing inside of it, he takes a chance that I wont scold him for leaning against it with all his might, throwing toys inside of it, and dumping water.  Ahh…the joys :) 

In goes Noah.  Oh my goodness, does he look so big!  He’s sitting in his new chair, back supported well, chunk hanging from chin to toes.  I laugh.  But the moment is unfortunately fleeting because no sooner is Noah in his chair than I have Ryan saying “Noah out my tubby.”  And not just once, mind you.  Over and over again…he’s a broken record for sure.  And when he realizes that I’m not going to take Noah out of “his” tub, he proceeds to join in with the bathing.  But a toddler trying to be helpful can most definitely keep you on the edge, and I was on the literal edge of the bathtub, bathing Noah while attempting to grab the cup filled of water that Ryan continuously tries to dump on Noah’s head.  Man did I whisk Noah out of there rather quickly!

Noah’s clean and I breathe in the scent of his soft skin as I dry him off.  Duuuummmmpppp!  Yeah…that would have been Ryan dumping an entire cup full of bath water out of the tub and onto Noah’s hair.  Yikes!  Moments later he’s sulking in a time-out. 

So Noah’s first bathing experience out of the infant tub didn’t go as smoothly as I would have hoped, but I would still deem it a sucess :)  Two clean and happy children came out of that bathroom, one walking in his blue dog pajama’s and the other on his mommy’s hip, both to be cuddled and put to sleep with love (and man was Mommy anxious to have some time to relax!)  Can’t get any better than that

I suggested a new Thanksgiving tradition to my husband this year and he was happy to oblige me.  A Thanksgiving journal.  Each year, I’d like to sit down with my husband and with my boys and reflect on our year…I’d like for us to reveal one thing that we are individually thankful for in our lives, place perspective on how truly fortunate we are.  Although I’ve done this in the past with family in my youth, never have I written it down.  What an amazing keepsake this will make for my children…to be able to look back upon their very own words when they become men. 

Ryan is only 2 1/2 this year, and Noah is only four months so I wasn’t expecting much when I asked them the words “what makes you happy?”  I didn’t think Ryan would really understand what “thankful” meant.  I wrote that I was thankful to have my husband home for the weekend as he’s been in Portugal since the middle of August and is unfortunately there as I type this now.  Jay said that he was thankful to have a strong wife that could endure his absence and care so well for our children (awww…) and then it was Ryan’s turn.

Mommy:  “What makes you happy, Ry?”

Ryan:  “Snowman!”

Ha!  A snowman.  How funny is that?  I admit that I was expecting something of the sort…but I thought that perhaps it would be Superman or a pirate as those are the things he’s been into recently.  But no…he’s thankful for a snowman :)  I can only imagine this is b/c snowmen have been in the back of his mind as the first snow flurry fell just the other day

Mommy:  “What makes you happy, Noah?”  This I say in a high-pitched voice as Noah looks adoringly at my face and smiles revealing the dimples in his cheeks I love so much.

Noah:  “Ahh goo!” 

That’s what I thought