Here We Go...

My children and I disagree on many things, but nothing so profoundly as the emotions elicited by the first snow of the year. I looked out of my window this morning and suddenly felt the burden of years fall on my shoulders. (Okay, I'm exaggerating slightly. But still...) Meanwhile, the girls shrieked their delight while dancing around the house singing songs of winter bliss. Even Curtis formed a "glass is half full" opinion of the view from the back window. I am friendless.

One of the drawbacks of an OCD nature is that I can't stand to drive on my driveway when there's snow on it. So, I bundled up and dragged myself outside to shovel the 5 feet of white stuff that dumped on my driveway. With a husband who is typically hundreds of miles away (conveniently) whenever snow falls, the task is generally mine to perform. Unfortunately, within minutes of accomplishing this back-breaking feat I can usually look out the window to see a fresh coat starting to gather. Grumble, grumble.

I don't like winter.

Words of Advice

A few words of advice for my artistically-motivated young daughter:

When committing acts of vandalism you might want to resist the urge to sign your name.

Otherwise blame and responsibility will, regretfully, be quite easy to ascertain.

Halle-freaking-lujah!

We have experienced a much-needed breakthrough with our little boy's sleeping habits. Last night Curtis officially slept through the night. He went to bed at 6:30pm (I know, holy cow!) and didn't wake up, or make a peep, until 6:30 this morning. Wahoo!

Now, before you think this miracle happened of its own accord, let me assure you that it didn't come without a fairly high price. First, it was preceded by 7 months of him waking up at least every two hours each night. As you can imagine, this took its toll on the rest of us...especially his mom. I've always been rather adept at adjusting to life without sleep, but for some reason (I'm tempted to blame it on age) this time I wasn't dealing with the sleep deprivation very well. It finally reached a point where I could tell that I was physically and mentally suffering. I had a long talk with his pediatrician and, after establishing that there was nothing preventing him from sleeping (other than his fondness for his mother's company), we decided it was time to let the poor boy cry. It took a few days to work up the courage, but after a couple particularly rough nights I decided it just needed to be done. 

The first night was horrific. At least for me. Two hours after his bedtime he was ready for a little company. When I didn't respond to his cute cry he took it up a few notches. For three...yes, three...hours he screamed steadily and heartily. He finally quieted down only to resume an hour and a half later for another 90 minutes. Then, a half hour later he decided to make one last ditch effort and bellowed his lungs out for another hour. Wow.

I was pretty worried that I'd walk into his room in the morning and wouldn't see an excited, smiling face like usual. But apparently he doesn't hold grudges because I was greeted with just as much (if not more) enthusiasm as ever. Whew. We were a tired mom and baby the next day but I was anxious to see if one night of holding my ground would make a difference. And it did. Each night he has improved and each morning he is happy as ever to see me. His sleep time has increased and his daytime naps have improved. What a great day!

The Eye of the Beholder

Some days my kids make me feel like a million bucks. Especially when they pull out the "You're the bestest mommy in the whole wide world!" On days like that I feel like I'm maybe doing okay.

Then there are days like today. First thing this morning I was helping Lindy get ready for school. She stood in front of the mirror and stared at my reflection for a while. After spitting, she promptly informed me that she "saw something on TV that would help get rid of the little zits" on my face. Infomercials strike again. 

Then later, Ellie decided my hair needed to be "fixed". She took her fingers, shoved them in her mouth, covered them thoroughly with spit and proceeded to style my locks into a more aesthetically pleasing coiffure. Gee, thanks.

Tomorrow I might try to shower before they wake up... 

Seven Months

What a month! I do believe that our little guy might actually be one of the most spoiled little babies on the planet. From the second he wakes up in the morning he has all four of us totally wrapped around his fingers. His sisters constantly want to hold him, talk to him, tickle him, or make him laugh. And, to be honest, Ian and I seem to enjoy doing those things just as much.

He is getting around quite well. He's not crawling, thank heavens, but by rolling, pivoting, and rolling a little more he manages to get pretty much anywhere he wants to. He hit the 18 pound mark at his 6-month check up. He's still average for a boy, but compared to his sisters he's a brute! Lindy didn't hit 18 pounds until her 1st birthday! I guess it's probably because he LOVES to eat. He's developing a little bit of a beta-carotene tan due to his love of all foods orange. Hopefully we'll be able to convince him to round out the diet a little and add in some green beans, peas, or even some fruit.

We just adore you, Curtis. Thanks for making our home such an amazing place to be!