I never know what Preschool C is going to say. And that does give my life a sense of adventure. It can also be really really embarrassing. We've been working with him for awhile now on being nice when spoken to, and it seemed like he was getting better at it. He's an outgoing friendly little fellow...most of the time.
For example, we saw a friend from church this week. She said hello to us and Preschool C kept saying, "How do you know me? How do you know about my baby sister?" We got in our van and he finally recognized who it was. Then he said, "Hmmm. I didn't think I'd see her again." I asked him why and he said, "Cause, I thought she was about to die." Preschool C is fascinated with death and the subject of Heaven right now. But that's a whole other blog.
Then we went through the McDonald's drive-thru to feed my sweet tea obsession...it really is an obsession. The worker waved to him through his little van window. He yells, "Go away. Get back in there." She looked so sad. I thought I was going to melt into my seat. So we talked, all the way to the grocery store about being nice to others, hurtful words, and thinking before we speak. I thought we had made progress.
We got to the grocery store and Preschool C wanted to ride in those horrible carts that are like little trucks. You know, the carts that are totally impossible for mothers to drive, causing you to sideswipe innocent shoppers and knock off almost every corner shelf item as you blush and mumble apologies? Well, he was driving his little cart through the check out and the weekend manager starts talking about my little shopper that I had with me. And Preschool C begins to honk his "horn" and say, "Stop talking! Quit talking to my mom like that! Who do you think you are? Don't talk to my mom like that!" I smiled, bent down, and began to whisper various threats into Preschool C's ear to get him to just stop talking. Now.
Well, at least it wasn't as bad as a couple of weeks ago in Maurice's when he started telling everybody that I wasn't his mom...thank goodness they know me.
I got home and husband was in the recliner, holding my cuddly, smiling, ever-cheerful Baby T. My calm, sweet, predictable little girl. I told him that next time I run errands, I'm taking her!!
K
Monday, January 17, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Detour
Well we are finally settling back into a routine after the crazy holidays!! Baby T got sick with RSV and went into the hospital on December 28. Since she started feeling badly on Christmas Eve, I kind of feel like I missed the holidays.
We spent New Year's Eve at home, alternating shifts of caretaking and sleeping. Baby T refused to be laid down, and we teetered on the brink of insanity from a lack of sleep. I think I teetered more that husband. I need my sleep.
So I FINALLY got my Christmas decorations down. I was taking all of our ornaments off of the tree one night while the house was unusually quiet. Husband and Preschool C had gone to small group, but I kept contagious Baby T home. She was sitting ever so happily in her swing, watching me take ornament after ornament off of the tree. I had to smile, looking at all the ornaments from the past, and the ones we had added this year. They all represent so many wonderful memories. I suddenly felt blue, thinking that Baby T's first Christmas was really not too spectacular. And Preschool C, who had reached the pinnacle of Christmas spirit, fully embracing the Santa myth for the first time, had been a little shoved to the side. We had made all kinds of fun plans for Christmas vacation, and we didn't accomplish one of them. I had worked myself into a pretty sad little spot. It was such a good pity party I could have sent out invitations.
And then I looked back at the pretty pink swing. And the beautiful smiling face of my healthy, happy, growing baby girl. I realized I did have some Christmas memories. I remember a very sick little baby. I remember how awful she sounded trying to breathe the night before I took her to the doctor. I remember sitting up all night Wednesday night with my husband, watching the effort she put into breathing. I remember praying my heart out. And I remember waking up Thursday morning to a smiling, wonderful, oxygen-rich little girl. I know that tons of babies get RSV. I know that it comes and goes quickly. But I also know that God was with us that night, and I am thankful. And that is really the best Christmas I could ever have.
And now we are well-rested. Baby T started eating solids this week. She licks her lips at dinner and joins right in. It wasn't long ago that Preschool C was doing the same thing. And now he has mastered his counting book and is writing perfect M's and N' all on his own.
I was talking with my ever-so-wise Aunt this week about how sometimes we set ourselves up with expectations. When those aren't fulfilled, we are disappointed. I had my expectations for the holiday, and they didn't pan out. But when I was able to let that go, I realized that I have something so much better. I have my family. I get to hug and kiss and hold them everyday. Now THAT is something to cherish in my heart.
K
We spent New Year's Eve at home, alternating shifts of caretaking and sleeping. Baby T refused to be laid down, and we teetered on the brink of insanity from a lack of sleep. I think I teetered more that husband. I need my sleep.
So I FINALLY got my Christmas decorations down. I was taking all of our ornaments off of the tree one night while the house was unusually quiet. Husband and Preschool C had gone to small group, but I kept contagious Baby T home. She was sitting ever so happily in her swing, watching me take ornament after ornament off of the tree. I had to smile, looking at all the ornaments from the past, and the ones we had added this year. They all represent so many wonderful memories. I suddenly felt blue, thinking that Baby T's first Christmas was really not too spectacular. And Preschool C, who had reached the pinnacle of Christmas spirit, fully embracing the Santa myth for the first time, had been a little shoved to the side. We had made all kinds of fun plans for Christmas vacation, and we didn't accomplish one of them. I had worked myself into a pretty sad little spot. It was such a good pity party I could have sent out invitations.
And then I looked back at the pretty pink swing. And the beautiful smiling face of my healthy, happy, growing baby girl. I realized I did have some Christmas memories. I remember a very sick little baby. I remember how awful she sounded trying to breathe the night before I took her to the doctor. I remember sitting up all night Wednesday night with my husband, watching the effort she put into breathing. I remember praying my heart out. And I remember waking up Thursday morning to a smiling, wonderful, oxygen-rich little girl. I know that tons of babies get RSV. I know that it comes and goes quickly. But I also know that God was with us that night, and I am thankful. And that is really the best Christmas I could ever have.
And now we are well-rested. Baby T started eating solids this week. She licks her lips at dinner and joins right in. It wasn't long ago that Preschool C was doing the same thing. And now he has mastered his counting book and is writing perfect M's and N' all on his own.
I was talking with my ever-so-wise Aunt this week about how sometimes we set ourselves up with expectations. When those aren't fulfilled, we are disappointed. I had my expectations for the holiday, and they didn't pan out. But when I was able to let that go, I realized that I have something so much better. I have my family. I get to hug and kiss and hold them everyday. Now THAT is something to cherish in my heart.
K
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