Little Kids

Yesterday the kids and I uploaded a bunch of pictures onto the computer. OK, I uploaded them, but they enjoyed viewing them. I had a video I thought was Riley playing soccer, but apparently Phil took a video of random kids (not including Riley) running around. That got me thinking about videos I posted on another site of the kids.

I pulled up the site, and the kids were transfixed. And of course I got a few tears, remembering how little these kids were. And even way back then, Jeremy was in love with his sister. So for your viewing pleasure:

Riley feeding Jeremy on March 17, 2007.

The kids climbing the stairs May 4, 2007.

And you can bet my uterus ached just a little.

Going Home

On my wedding day seven years ago,

at my first true home.

For those of you who know, I live nearby to where I grew up. I'm about 45 minutes from my childhood home, and my parents have lived there for about 30 years.

I had the opportunity to have some time without the kids this weekend, being spoiled by my parents. I'm blessed to have these days every now and then, and they usually occur when I'm on the verge of running away from my kids or selling them to the closest bidder. Going to my folks' is a mental vacation, always allowing for a full stomach from all the culinary delights and uninterrupted sleep.

I rode the train into my hometown and was immediately greeted by my parents, who quoted a Seinfeld episode right from the beginning. I had such a craving for fried onions, and there's no better place than Hackney's, so off we went.

The rest of the time with my parents was spent lounging, reading, watching tributes to Paul Newman, followed by a 10-hour sleep. It was heaven. On Sunday we went to the Flea Market at Allstate Arena where we found a few things we just couldn't live without. We hit one more delicious locale, and then I figured I should go home.

Home. That's a funny word. Because all during the time I was "home." I was in the house I grew up in. I was where I felt at ease. I was with my family. But I needed to go "home" to see my husband and kids. Could it be possible to have two homes?

As I pondered this aloud, my dad said he had the same feeling whenever my mom used to say she was going "home" to visit her parents. He would feel hurt, because, after all, isn't the house he lived with her considered "home?" So she changed it to say she was going to visit her folks'.

I don't think it bothers Phil that I think of both places as home. Whenever my parents do sell, I know their new house won't be considered home to me. But until then, I guess I'll just enjoy the fact that I have two homes full of loving family.

My home with my husband and kids,
minus the boat (it was the former homeowners).

Germs

Our house has become infested with germs. It's rather depressing. After spending most of the summer sick-free, within the last month all four members of the family have come down with colds. It's hard to remember the order, but I believe I was sick first with allergy-type symptoms. Being the CEO of the house, I cannot afford a sick day. I trudged through, telling the kids I couldn't do all the fun things they wanted simply because I didn't have enough energy. And it's hard to fix food for people when the last thing you want is nourishment.

Then Phil became sick. I received the dreaded phone call from him while he was at work. He uttered the five words no woman wants to hear: "I think I'm getting sick." I told him to tell his boss and see if he could get home on an early train. Did he listen? I think you know the answer to that. It was a little inconvenient that he was sick over the weekend, necessitating the child-handling all to me, but when you're sick, you're sick. He even admitted he'd rather be sick during the week, since he would rather be doing anything but rest on the weekend.

Last Friday, Riley woke up with extra sniffles. She acted fine, other than the need for an extra Kleenex or two, so I got her ready for school. After school, her teacher told me that Riley said she wasn't feeling well, but she participated in all the activities and ate snack. So I guess she couldn't be too sick. Unfortunately for Riley, she lost her voice on Saturday due to whatever bug she picked up. It was rather cute to hear her talk, all hoarse, but I felt bad that she was still under the weather.

Wouldn't you know that Jeremy got sick on Monday and Tuesday. Guess he was feeling left out. I knew something was up when he just wanted to sit in my lap at 11 a.m., and the next thing I know he fell asleep. Having a child sleep on your chest is just about the best feeling in the world. With a 102.5 fever, I couldn't blame the kid for feeling a bit sluggish. He slept for about 45 minutes, ate some lunch, and took a monster 3-hour nap. After loading him up on Tylenol, he began to feel better and was well enough for a visit from grandma on Tuesday evening.

I pride myself on my children rarely getting sick. Riley didn't have her first ear infection until last year. Jeremy (*knocking on wood*) has never had an ear infection. Ever. It's rough when the family is sick. Let's just h ope this isn't a precursor to how this winter shall be!

Raising a Boy

I don't remember Riley ever being so fascinated with body functions. And I'm rather surprised that it has happened with Jeremy so young. Being a woman myself, I don't recall being so enthralled with these sort of things either, although I'm sure some family members would care to disagree.

Just a few minutes ago, I noticed Jeremy dumped a puzzle on the table. That's fine. No worries. Then I see him bending down, as if he's looking for something. I asked him, "Did you drop a puzzle piece?"

"Nope. I'm pooping." Ah, fun stuff.

Reminds me of yesterday when Jeremy put his cup on my leg. I said, "Excuse me?"

"Mommy, did you just have gas?"

Yeah, somehow this isn't what I imagined when finding out the child I was carrying for nine months was a boy. I have a feeling, though, this is only the beginning...

No More Monkeys

The other day Jeremy bumped his head on the table and then started singing the "No More Monkeys Jumping on the Bed" song. He doesn't actually *know* how to say the word monkey; instead, he calls them by the sound they make: eee-eee. I picked up the camera and asked him to sing it again. And then I asked him to count. Riley taught him how to count to 10, which I think is adorable By the way, that's exactly how he counts when he and Riley play hide-and-seek. It requires her to find a place to hide rather quickly.

Oh, and I can't for the life of me figure out how to rotate the video (it's rotated correctly on my hard drive), so just bear with me and turn your head.

Children's Bouquet

This past weekend was crazy. Crazy as in neverending rain crazy. We broke a record on Saturday with more than 6 inches of rain. In one day. Roads flooded near Chicago, my parents' basement got flooded (although, if it rains minimally, they get water seepage), and it made for an all-around crappy weekend.

What did the weekend teach me? It made me realize how much my kids are outside. And how they need to be outside. They were running around in circles (literally) at one point in the master bedroom, until they bumped heads and that was the end of that.

Being inside all weekend made me dread winter even more. Those who know me know how much I hate cold weather. I could go year-round wearing shorts. The minute it snows, a little part of me cries. But for the sake of the kids, I do bundle us all up and head out in the frigid temperatures. I just don't enjoy it.

So Monday, being the first rain-free day in three days, the kids and I went for a walk. They were disappointed to know we couldn't head to the park (it was still wet from all the rain and dew), but I told them we could go for a nice long walk.

Riley wanted to be in the wagon, Jeremy insisted on using the Princess scooter (don't ask). Along the way they encountered dandelions, also known as the perfect flower for a kid. Our walk turned into an extended affair due to the numerous stops to pick flowers for "Mommy." How could I resist?

All it took to make them happy was to present me with flowers. And as I walked with them, I thought about asking them to move a little faster so we could get home. But then I thought why would I want to do something like? What's my hurry? Why do I need to get home since they've been cooped up inside all weekend. What's making them content is to pick what I would call a weed. So I let them. And this is the end result (sorry it's a little blurry--I didn't realize that until later):

The Little Things

Some days it doesn't take much to make me happy.

-Being greeted in the morning by Jeremy saying, "Good morning, Mama." (As long as it's after 7.)
-When Phil comes home after I've had a rough day.
-My weekly M&M Blizzard treat to myself for making it through the week.
-My People subscription.
-Naptime.
-Trashy TV, especially shows on Bravo.
-Chatting with my girlfriends.
-Riley bragging about her day at school.
-Getting emails from family.
-Hearing the kids laugh.
-Having someone else prepare dinner (which reminds me, check out Kraft's Food and Family magazine if you haven't. Click HERE for the link to sign up. It's FREE! Jill, that means you!)
-The spa. (Always a good present idea.)
And finally:

Pictures like these.

My beautiful prince.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Riley wanted Jeremy to play with her in the dirt this afternoon. He wanted to hit the ball around with me. She asked him when he was going to be done. He turned to her, looked her straight in the eyes, and said, "Two more minutes." Think I say that enough to the kids?

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Riley's been known to say a few things that have me speechless. A few months ago Riley came up to me with a problem. "Mom, can you help me? My panties are stuck in my tushie." How do you not help buy smile?

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Man, if they didn't make me laugh with the things they say, I think I might go a little crazy.

Party Time

The kids and I headed to Bloomington on Saturday for cousin Ethan's third birthday party. Phil called me from work on Friday, muttering some words no wife wants to hear: "I think I'm getting sick." So Saturday I insisted he stay home, and I loaded up the kids for the three-hour drive. We packed a lunch to eat on the road, and off we went.

The kids were great for the first hour, and then we stopped at a rest stop. They were on their best behavior, holding hands while walking to the building for a pit stop. A few people commented at how cute they were. Yeah, if they only knew!

After lunch, we jammed ourselves back into the minivan, and we headed to great-grandpa's. We planned to stop there on our way down just to say hi. Luckily the kids napped for about an hour until we got there.

Turns out, great-grandpa wasn't there. He had told us before: "If I'm here, I'm here. If I'm not, I'm not." For 91, he's pretty accurate. We left him a note and then headed on the rest of our journey.

The kids were holy terrors the half-hour we still had to drive. I think getting out of the car both times made them antsy to get out for good. They were just aggravating each other (and me!), so when we finally arrived, we all practically ran out of the car.

Ethan's big present was a rental of an inflatable bouncy contraption, that all the kids (and Kevin) seemed to enjoy. The kids had fun running around, playing on bikes, trying to hit candy out of the monster truck pinata, and eating cake and ice cream.

Ethan, Riley and Jeremy bouncing around.

Aiming for the pinata while Uncle Kevin looks on.

Riley takes a swing.

We headed back home around 6:30, and I thought for sure the kids would be exhausted from all the activity. Nope. Riley fell asleep about 45 minutes from home, and Jeremy lasted until 30 minutes from home. I spent numerous conversations with them trying to get them to settle down, but it fell on deaf ears. We pulled into the driveway at a little after 9. Another birthday celebration over.

Oh, and Phil is feeling better. I still told him he owes me, even though he had a decent excuse.

All the cousins: Riley, Ethan (holding Caden), and Jeremy.

First Week, Complete

Riley finished her first week of school on Friday. She had a great week, reporting that they had graham crackers for snack one day, and pretzels another. The kid can't remember what else she did, but she rarely forgets a snack. The highlight of her week was our arrival on Wednesday, in which we saw a two-to-three-foot turtle crossing the road right by school! It was quite the sight.

Another highlight was one of the moms approaching me on Friday and asking if I was Riley's mom. I told her I was, and she said her daughter asked her to put three ponytails in her hair for school, "just like Riley's." I laughed because Riley gave me three rubber bands on Wednesday to put in her hair, so I gave her pigtails near the top of her head, and then I grabbed the rest of her hair and threw it into a ponytail. I figured there are bigger battles to fight. Apparently we've made a mark.

J and I have gotten back into our rhythm of just the two of us. We spent Tuesday going for a walk and to the park, Wednesday at the Parent/Tot center and Friday going to garage sales. He gets almost as excited as his Mama whenever we run across a bargain. I did score on some clothes for the kids on Friday--picked up Riley a brand-new, tags-still-attached swimsuit for next year, and some larger-size sweatshirts and sweaters for her. The J man got a Boston Red Sox shirt, which Phil gave me a hard time about purchasing. Yes, we're still a White Sox family, but Boston will always be near and dear.

And below is a picture Riley drew on her first day of school. I'd say her drawings are becoming more legible. Reminds me of the pictures Derek drew with his people always having belly buttons.

Dad is at the top left, followed by Fiona (kitty),
Jeremy, mom, and Riley at the bottom.

Life as a Kid

Life was so simple when you were a kid. No responsibilities, no bills to pay, no one to take care of.

You could sleep whenever you wanted, wherever you wanted, knowing that someone would look after you.

Making Jell-O could be the highlight of your day.

You ran everywhere. You never thought to slow down or take it easy. Your feet just somehow ran anytime you needed to get somewhere.

Going to the park was like winning the lottery. There were so many contraptions to climb, so many swings to enjoy, so many slides to go down.

Even better was playing in the sprinkler. You didn't worry about if your swimsuit made you look fat or that you couldn't swim well. Running in and out of the sprinkler was all that mattered.

Money was a foreign idea. You had no idea how much money items cost. You didn't care.

You had someone to tuck you in at night, to watch over you, to read stories and reassure you that there are no monsters under your bed, no thunderstorms coming, no scary noises that will wake you from your perfect dreamland.

Somedays I miss being a kid. Being an adult isn't nearly as much fun. But watching my children enjoying life the way they do sure helps.

First Day of Preschool

Today was Riley's first day of her second year of preschool. Does that make sense? She's in the fours classroom, since she misses the cutoff for kindergarten this year. She needed to be 5 by September 1.

She's at the same school she attended last year, which is wonderful seeing as she has a lot of familiar faces. I went to the orientation last week to meet the new teachers (Ms. Betty and Ms. Gay), and to get acclimated with the new room. I have no doubt Riley will succeed and thrive there.

This morning started off with baby chocolate chip pancakes a la Dad. Phil works from home on Tuesdays, so this was a special treat. She gobbled them up, and then asked me to pick out a few outfits for her to choose from. The picture above shows her choice.

The four of us took her to school, signed her in, and the minute the teachers opened the door, she gave us big hugs and was off. Just like that. No looking back. No sad faces. She was just gone.

Jeremy and I hung out while Phil worked, and I admit that it was sad not having Riley around. It doesn't seem that long ago that I was lamenting about what on earth I was going to do all summer with the kids at home!

J and I picked Riley up (she asked where Dad was, and I reassured her that he was waiting for her at home), and she was just so excited to tell us about her day. She waited until she got home to tell everyone at the same time and show us her drawings. I'm so proud of her. It's hard to believe she'll soon be in kindergarten. But I think I'll be more of a mess when Jeremy starts preschool!