For Cole, on his blessing day

To a Child
By Sophie Jewett

The leaves talked in the twilight, dear;
Hearken the tale they told:
How in some far-off place and year,
Before the world grew old,

I was a dreaming forest tree,
You were a wild, sweet bird
Who sheltered at the heart of me
Because the north wind stirred;

How, when the chiding gale was still,
When peace fell soft on fear,
You stayed one golden hour to fill
My dream with singing, dear.

To-night the self-same songs are sung
The first green forest heard;
My heart and the gray world grow young—
To shelter you, my bird.

Birthday

Today we've been celebrating five years of this face:


But of course we've been celebrating it so much we are too fatigued to actually write about it. More tomorrow...

Brothers

Staycation

I recently decided to take my three kids, sans Jeremy, to visit a friend in St. Paul, with a stop to see another friend en route in Des Moines. It seemed like a great idea at the time. After all, what could be more fun and easy than driving seven hours in the world's tiniest car with a four-year-old, a three-year-old, and a six-week-old baby?

(Incidentally, I think there's something wrong with me. I think nothing of taking the kids on day-long outings but feel a bit nauseated at the thought of taking them to the grocery store. I should do more grocery shopping on my day trips.)

At any rate, I never had the opportunity to test my braverism, because all of my friends and their kids ended up sick. Curses!

But since I'd already told the kids about our trip up north, I figured I had to make it up to them somehow, so we planned a wee staycation instead.


We started out with a movie and a slumber party in the front room--in sleeping bags, no less! For the movie, we opted for the kids' first-ever viewing of The Lion King, fast forwarding through all the sad and scary parts. That made for about a 20 minute movie. (I haven't watched that movie in years, but seriously: Mufasa? What a downer!)

The next morning, I managed to wrastle them all into the car for a trip to Kansas City. We didn't even shove off until 10:00, and even though I was silently swearing while pumping up the tires on my double jogging stroller, I managed to hardly yell at anyone or throw any breakables. We'll call it a win.

I really dug what little I saw of KC. What a great city! I have always been something of a city girl at heart. I love the energy of cities and how much there is to do there. I love the parks and the fountains and the art and the distinct little neighborhoods and the restaurants and the museums and the architecture... Kansas City is a nice size, has tons to do, and feels truly thriving and immense compared to our little hamlet of 11,000 souls. I had fun being there.

I took the kids to Science City, which, you may have guessed, is a science museum. When we arrived, the museum was literally overrun with elementary school kids on field trips. Clara took this in stride, but Jonathan just kind of wandered around looking dazed. It only took one girl with a runny nose coming up and touching Cole's hand for me to decree that we needed to go out of the museum and have a snack, since Jonathan wasn't having any fun ("Yes I am," he weakly replied).

Luckily, since we'd gotten such a late start on the day (curse those jogging stroller wheels!), while we were munching we watched probably 300 children line up and leave. What a beautiful sight! I nearly cried. By the time we got back in, there was about an hour an a half left until closing, and we had our run of the place. Fantastic.






I'd planned to also take them to a place called Kaleidoscope, but the little snafu at the museum forced us to postpone that adventure for another time. But we were certainly hungry for dinner when we were done, so we headed over to the Crown Center, where I surprised them with dinner at Fritz's, which is a burger place that delivers food via model trains. Awesome. I knew about this because of my friend Emily's superb blog. My kids instantly recognized it, which I realized when Clara said, "You'd better take some pictures for our blog, too!" Consider it done, Sis.





Note: I tried to take a video of the train delivering our food, but it ended up being pretty wild as I lunged out to keep the box of food from dumping over as Jonathan and Clara eagerly reached to snatch it. Also, I think that at some point I will both take and post a normal picture of myself. Wouldn't that be something?

Halloween forecast: patchy with a chance of pumpkins

I decided to combine my Halloween pictures with pictures of our recent trip to the pumpkin patch. My reasons are two-fold: 1) I kind of forgot about taking Halloween pictures until it was too dark to take good pictures, and the pictures we took before the downtown trick-or-treating a few nights before just weren't very good; and 2) the pictures at the Patch are awesome.

We ventured to the Pumpkin Patch a couple of weeks ago with Clara's Pre-K class. It was extremely reminiscent of the last time we went to a pumpkin patch, which was three years ago, when Jonathan was a brand new baby. Crazy. Not much was different about this year's experience, other than that we now live in Missouri and Jeremy has new glasses. And technically the baby is different, though to look at the pictures I can't be totally sure.



The Patch was just a family farm about three miles from our house, but it felt like we were deep in the country (who am I kidding? Almost everywhere feels like deep country around here!). Clara lived it up with her Pre-K friends, Jeremy walked around with Cole, and I hung out with Jonathan when I wasn't busy wondering why Clara likes her Pre-K friends and teachers about a billion times more than she likes me. Sigh.

And then, of course, yesterday was Halloween. We had a fun Halloween this year, all said.


Clara decided to dress up as Elphaba from the musical Wicked, though she quickly figured out how few people (at least in our neck of rural Missouri) know who Elphaba is, so she just started telling people she was a good witch whom everyone thinks is bad, or, more often, she just said she was a good witch. And she didn't even once use the word "whom." I'm debating whether that's even the right usage, but I think it is.


Jonathan decided to dress up as a stereotype, I mean as Spiderman. I think I've mentioned his latest passion for superheroes. It's a phase that's holding strong. Anyway, I thought he looked pretty cute in his muscly spidey suit, and I know he felt pretty awesome, so I guess that's what matters.


Cole primarily dressed up as a hungry, chunky baby.

Jeremy showed up to teach his classes wearing a sign around his neck that said 7,000,000,000. My alert readers will be able to tell that he was dressed as the world population--kind of a scary costume, depending on your view of the world. Certainly it was an apt costume for a human geographer.

I dressed up as a crabby mommy. It's a well-worn costume.


At any rate, it was a pretty magical night, as far as Halloweens go (crabby mommies aside). The weather was very mild, which made trick-or-treating a relative pleasure. Watching the kids run down the street in the cool evening air collecting handfuls of loot from the neighbors just warmed my cold, grumpy heart.

Buckety-Bucket-List

(I am struggling to figure out this new blogger format! Why is the spacing either immense or nonexistent between lines?)


This is my shameless effort to win a giveaway on another blog. Here's the official pronouncement: 


This is my entry in the Just Ask Bucket List Getaway Giveaway. Just Ask offers a breast and ovarian cancer screening and is encouraging people to share 15 things that I want to enjoy in my lifetime as a reminder to be aware of my health. Want to enter? Head over to TodaysMama.com to get the details.


That said, I do not like the phrase "Bucket List." I can't explain why. But I do have things I'd like to do, and here are fifteen of them:


1. Win a blog giveaway. (Seriously!)
2. Learn to use a kitchen knife really well.
3. Travel in Europe.
4. Buy a house.
5. Have a basement playroom. (Do these things all count as "buckety"?)
6. Sleep in a treehouse.
7. Have an awesome wall tent in my woodsy backyard.
8. Touch a dolphin.
9. See orcas in the wild.
10. Go on an overnight backpacking trip.
11. Go to Alaska.
12. Hike Half Dome.
13. Learn to take great pictures.
14. Be debt free.
15. Give my kids a happy childhood.


That was harder to come up with than I thought. I've never really thought about bucket lists before. It takes enough energy just to get through my day, let alone think about the future. :)


This has been a pretty lame post. Hope everyone is having a grand day!

A walk in the park

We ventured into the "big city" today to 1) get out of town; 2) get a little shopping done; 3) go to the park; 4) get frosties (frostys?) at Wendy's. Obviously we can go to the park right here in our own home town, but there's something exciting about an "exotic" park 45 minutes away.

And we can't get frosties where we live.

The kids had a great time, even though the playground was in the middle of extensive renovations, leaving only a pair of swings and one of those old-school tall metal slides. I've always thought those slides were a bit hazardous, and I'd be surprised if they left it up when the new playground is done. But seriously, there's almost nothing better than zipping at top speed down a slick metal slide. It's one of the truest joys of childhood.

Jonathan's motto: Carry a big stick. Walking softly is optional.
    Cole's motto: Feed me, change me, love me. Will do, sweet baby.

The inaudible howl of the biggest-littlest wolf

I can think of three times in my life when I have been creeped out by my own home. Case #1 was when we once picked up some bed bug stowaways at a (nice) hotel and had to endure extermination procedures followed by months of picking up every conceivable piece of fuzz in the house and examining it with a strong light and a magnifying glass. (True story. There are more details, but I'll spare you. And in Jeremy's defense, I should add that he was not the one picking up pieces of fuzz, but you probably could've guessed that on your own.)

Case #2 was when we first moved to Missouri and started finding smallish beetle-ish bugs in our house. I don't know exactly what they are, other than that they live in the grass but also enjoy venturing into more civilized territory from time to time. They really bothered me at first, but we don't find many of them and they're really not that bad, all things considered.

Case #3 is what we're dealing with at present: the robustly-sized, fuzzy-wuzzy wolf spider. I thought about posting a picture, but then I realized that I might never open my blog again if I had to face seeing a hairy-scary close-up of a nasty spider every time I did. Gross. But it's also a bit gross wondering whether I might see one every time I turn the corner.

We're working on a few things to mitigate our little blossoming problem, like sticky traps, but I seriously do not like those spiders. And they're poisonous! Websites like to point out that they're not aggressive and won't bite unless provoked. But why, then, call them "wolf" spiders? Wolves are predatory and often aggressive. They are hunters. If I were naming a poisonous but shy spider, I would've chosen a more innocuous name. Like maybe "pantywaist spider" or just simply "the wuss."

But I was not around when spider names were being doled out, so until something changes, we'll just be listening closely for the cry of the wolf.

The sound of silence

Yesterday I took Clara to the doctor for her 5-year well child check (is she really almost five years old??). I wasn't sure how much of the visit she remembered, since she was largely preoccupied with her increasing anxiety about whether she'd be able to get a flu shot or the much beloved flu mist. (Answer: I opted for the flu shot this year on the off chance the live virus might somehow infect Cole. She was most displeased.)

Anyway, at one point the doctor asked me whether Clara took a nap. I scoffed. "Neither of them do," I said, gesturing in mild disgust at my two older children. She said, "Well, that's a horrible thing! You would all feel better with a bit of rest every day."

Tell me about it, sister.

Before I go on, I should say that until this summer we actually were pretty regular with an hour of "quiet time" every day. This was a most beneficial exercise--for me if no one else. But between our seven week stay in Utah, family reunions, moving to Missouri, enduring excessive heat (and excessive pregnancy), and having a new baby, "quiet time" kind of fell to the wayside.

This is no longer true.

Since Clara has immense respect for teachers, doctors, and basically any authority figure with the notable exception of her parents, I thought I'd casually bring up the doctor's recommendation for a rest time every day. So today, I picked her up from preschool, we came home and had lunch, and then I told them they'd be spending the next hour having pleasant repose in their room, including a half-hour of time spent doing nothing but lying in bed reading books! (Seriously, what is wrong with children?!?? I can't think of anything that would be more wonderful than 30 minutes of lying in bed reading a book!)

And guess what? My suggestion was met with absolutely zero resistance! So for the last hour, they have been quietly playing in their rooms, looking at books, etc., with nary a scream, hit, or yell. Such a blessed event.

I called Jeremy to tell him about it, and I expressed my concern that it might never happen again so easily. His response: "But it happened today."

Yes. Yes it did.

Our new favorite hobby...

Cole Samuel

On Tuesday morning, I drove to my 39 week doctor's appointment with Jonathan and Clara in tow. Five hours later, our cute little Cole was born. Obviously, we cannot have a baby without some sort of drama and trauma, but all things considered it was a relatively mild delivery, and we're so happy he's here safely!

When I met with my doctor at around noon on Tuesday, Cole's heart rate did a few unexpected decelerations. I tend to be a source of stress for my OBs, so when I looked at her with tears in my eyes and said, "That does not sound like my baby," she said, "Listen to me, with any other patient I would not be worried, but you're here and I'm here; let's just have this baby right now."

I, of course, was immediately emotional and worried, and I was an hour from home (the joy of living in a small town as something of a high-risk pregnancy: you have to go afield for your babies), had two kids with me, and Jeremy was at his office with no car. I tearfully called him and told him I would find someone to pick him up, then I called a dear and willing friend who dropped everything to pick him up, drive him an hour away, then take my kids home with her (thank you, Kristin, truly! We couldn't have done it without you!).

My doctor said as soon as Jeremy walked in the door we'd go to the operating room, and she was true to her word. Once he arrived and put on his "nurse's clothes" (as Clara calls them), we wheeled over to the OR. The c-section went well, other than the tarp/curtain was too close to my face and when they peeked Cole over the tarp he dripped two big drops of goopy-ness into my hair. I thought he looked truly enormous, but he's a pretty normal-sized baby: 20.5 inches and 7 pounds, 12 ounces.

After he was born and made his way to the nursery to get cleaned up, people seemed to generally forget I was there. Jeremy followed Cole, only to be made to wait in my hospital room. The anesthesiologist left, the doctors were stitching me up and talking about the best museums in Washington, DC, and I stared at the blue tarp. Oh well. I guess at that point I wasn't feeling very chatty anyway. :)

When I was finished in surgery, they wheeled me to recovery, then brought in both Jeremy and Cole. That was actually the first time I'd ever had anyone other than a nurse with me in recovery. I liked it! It made up for being abandoned in surgery. After recovering from a big drop in my blood pressure (I have low blood pressure anyway, but this was low even by my standards), the three of us went to my room and have been there ever since. Jeremy has been able to spend most of his time here as well, other than a run to the airport to pick up my mom the night Cole was born (I'm so glad she's here!!) and to teach one of his classes. But other than that, he's been helpfully at my side, helping me in and out of bed, changing diapers, and getting chastised by me every time he's said something too funny (it hurts to laugh!). I sure dig that guy.

The first night was tough. I never sleep that well away from home, but between the pain, the dumb clot-preventing legging things (I seriously loathe them), and feeding Cole, I only slept for about an hour.


The first day after the surgery is always the hardest, by far, but by the day's end I was totally "wireless," eating solid foods, and walking around. And the best part of the day was when Jonathan and Clara came to meet baby Cole! Clara was particularly enthralled by him. She just wanted to hold and cuddle and talk about him. She is such a sweetheart, and is always a good big sister. Even when she fights us on picking up after herself, etc., she is nearly always willing to help Jonathan, and I have a feeling she'll be just the same way with Cole. She was also really interested in hearing about my "wound" and was very helpful in holding my hand and adjusting my legs to help me feel better. She even suggested putting a pillow under my feet. So thoughtful!


Jonathan was a champ about meeting Cole. He seemed a lot more mystified by the whole situation, and even though he was excited to see and hold Cole, he was a lot more happy to eat my cupcake from dinner and sit by me on my bed. It must be a really strange transition for the youngest!

And now I'm waiting for the doctor's go-ahead to go home today. Cole has already been green-lighted, and if my doctor is ever done with her surgeries I'm confident she'll release me as well. Even though home comes along with its own craziness, it is home, and cliche as it may be to say, there really is no place like it.

Happy Birthday, Jonner!

I am feeling very tenderly toward our youngest child today. Not only is it his third birthday, and not only is he a sweet and wonderful boy, but I am keenly aware that he'll be my "baby" for only a few days more.


What to say about Jonathan? He is truly one of the sweetest, most mellow, easy to please, fun to be around boys I've ever met. He has big, beautiful eyes, the best little Charlie Brown head, and a seriously infectious smile. He loves his family, and he borderline worships his sister. He is truly charming.

Jonathan has lots of interests lately, but the two most notable are riding his scooter and tricycle and anything to do with superheroes. I'm not sure where the superhero thing came from, but it has more or less replaced his previous passion with motorcycles (though a superhero on a motorcycle is a guaranteed hot hit).

He still loves the tiny, scruffy monkey I "rescued" from the Syracuse church nursery when Clara was a baby. He has been potty trained for about six months, and he enjoys Backyardigans, especially (you might have guessed) a certain episode he calls "Bubble Boy" where the Backyardigans pretend to be superheroes.

Speaking (again) of superheroes, Jonathan is not void of superpowers himself. His four strongest powers (other than super sweetness) are as follows:


1. Super speed. The boy runs everywhere, usually with arms pointing straight down and looking straight at the ground.

2. Super touch-of-invisibility. Jeremy and I are convinced that no one on earth can lose things more efficiently than Jonathan. We will see him with the object in question, and then five minutes later it seems to literally have disappeared from the face of the earth. Jeremy and I have spent many a frustrated evening stomping around the house trying to find that evening's must-have bedtime item. It really is a remarkable superpower.

3. Super spilling: I swear that boy can spill on clothes he's never even worn. It's incredible.

4. Super style: Jonathan has a keen eye for which clothes are "awesome" and which clothes are "not awesome." This poses a problem because, as it turns out, nearly all of his clothes are "not awesome." Sometimes it's tricky to get him dressed in the morning.


Finally, to mark this momentous occasion I sat down and "interviewed" Jonathan about some of his most favorite things. I think it's an interesting snapshot of Jonathan at age three. He's a great kid:

Favorite food: cauliflower (that's what he said, and he did request homemade pizza and cauliflower for his birthday dinner, so it could be true)

Favorite dessert: chocolate cupcakes

Favorite 'special' (one of those can't-sleep-without things): monkey

Favorite toy: truck

Favorite song: "Belagu" (a Malaysian primary song)

Favorite song to dance to: Toss up between Beyonce's "Halo" and Katy Perry's "Firework"

Favorite book: Flying High, a riveting tale about the DC Superfriends

Favorite thing to do with Mommy: read books

Favorite thing to do with Daddy: jump high off beanbags

Favorite thing to do with Clara: play with garbage trucks when we get some

Favorite thing to do during the day: make up jokes for Clara

Best thing about being Jonathan: being Spider-man

Favorite color: blue

What he wants to be when he grows up: This got three responses: a dumb neighbor (???), The Flash, and Clara

Happy Birthday, Sweetest Boy! We love you!