I'll Be in the Powder Room

He's crawling! I would probably call it official since Friday. I'm in for it now. They can officially take off in three different directions. Prior to Friday, Elijah was "migrating." By lunging and turning and sitting, he would get around a little bit.

His last chemo visit went well. His blood counts were basically normal and he had another dose of  IVIG. The doctor said his levels were rising enough that he might not need it again.

You'd think I was intentionally averting my attention from my 2 and 3 year old, just to see what interesting thing they'd do, based on the stuff they accomplish. That's tempting on some level, but, no. They have plans ready to execute, the moment I nurse a baby or take a shower. The other day, while I was holding Elijah and folding laundry (doing neither very effectively), Isaac got the baby powder out of  the changing table pocket, and powdered the entire kitchen and himself. I sent him upstairs to play and, planning to clean the kitchen when Brian came in from mowing, I sat down to nurse the poor, famished baby. Ian sneaked in, and thinking Isaac's project hilarious, he snitched the baby oil and painted over top of the powder. I only caught him when he poured the oil all the way to the living room and started shaking it on Elijah's head.

Usually, I'm good about waiting until the last minute to mention plans to the boys, but this time, my mixture of excitement about Disney and wondering if it will thrill or terrify them, has weakened my resolve. Now, every time we pull into a parking lot, Ian asks, "Is this Disney?" Last week, he put on a Handy Manny costume from 2 years ago and vowed to wear it to Disney. After two straight days, I was starting to think he was really going to leave it on until our trip. It wasn't until I got him pirate and fireman pajamas that I convinced him to take it off.

I'd like to take the boys to the Bodies exhibit. I went before and it was really amazing. Since Ian has been asking all about bones and muscles and all, I think he'd really get into it. I tried to get Brian to go last weekend, but he came up with lots of reasons not to. It turns out he just doesn't share my fascination.

Thanks for Losing so I Could See You Better

Last night Brian and I went on our "mystery date." We had a super-tasty dinner at Frank's on the way up to Atlanta. As we were nearing town, he was having me look all over the car for his sunglasses. When he asked me too look in the glove box, I opened the door and there before my eyes were two shimmering tickets to the Falcons v. Patriots game! My very first football game ever! And end zone seats too! I've wanted to go to a football game for oh-so long! We sat there with our refillable Coke and popcorn and $5 cotton candy and I fretted over my cheering obligations: home team...but...Patriots!...but, home team?..or Patriots? It ended up being a rather universal appreciation for good plays...which by nature of the game, was mostly for the Pats. The benefit of home team being stomped was that at half-time, we had amazing near-front-row seats on the end zone. Now, if only they'd come play on this end.

Our brave and well-qualified friend, Heidi, watched all 3 boys for us. She has 4 boys, so I think she's a superhero. As we drove away from the house, I had a brief pity party for myself, missing my babies. I lamented that it was first time I'd been anywhere without Elijah. Well, except for that whole first 11 weeks thing...and maybe the grocery store. OK, nevermind. I'm a sap.

Two Steps Cleaner, One Step Disaster

I turned on my computer and Ian announced, "It's time to plaay FAM-il-y Feud!" Am I addicted?

The boys had a lot of fun today, but in the way that mom...well, not so much. While I prepared Elijah's dressing change supplies for the home health nurse, I hear the boys sounding dangerously happy. I entered the kitchen to find Isaac pouring water out of a bottle I had left on the counter and Ian was stomping in the puddle with his galoshes.

While I was preparing some black beans, I saw Ian grab some grapes out of the refrigerator.  I didn't see Isaac grab the strawberries. Now I have a carton full of strawberries with one bite taken from each of them.

The ultimate offense took place as I was putting Elijah down for a nap. I had spent hours folding about two years-worth of laundry and stacking it on the ironing board, my most recent attempt at keeping my folded laundry out of "their" reach. Yes, they dumped it over and were playing Pirate Ship in the pile.

Yesterday, Ian renamed everyone. Of Elijah, he said, "I'll call him Flapjack." Isaac is Captain and Ian is Luckie. That must've been only yesterday's names. I haven't heard them again.

Brian tried to round Isaac up for a change and Isaac ran off bellowing, "You'll never find me now!!"

Elijah is preparing to join the fray. Whilst he cuts teeth 3 and 4 on the bottom, he is trying so hard to crawl. He goes from sitting to reaching out to just barely on his hands and knees before he either returns to sitting or lands on his belly. He's also pulling up on things to his knees or feet. Oh boy, I'm going to be in trouble!

Well, the house is creeping into presentability, in spite of them, and I can't wait for my date on Thursday!

La Laa La Laa Laa *pthhhck*

Somebody ran over a Smurf.

Baby Moses

I was doing the laundry this morning and was digging near the bottom of my basket and I found a pump bottle of foam soap wrapped in a stiff washcloth. I laughed to myself, remembering that Ian had called that bottle "Baby Moses" the other day. I tossed the contraption into the bedroom and Ian yelled, "You hurt Baby Moses!" A few minutes later Ian came by with Moses stuffed into an empty tissue box (we won't talk about why we had an empty tissue box lying around), saying, "We need to keep Baby Moses safe. This is his car seat." Then, as we were trying to leave the house for breakfast, Ian demands, "Wait! We need a safety window for Moses!" Ian and Isaac debated for a moment about where the window should be. Ian was set on a Buzz Lightyear-esque dome. After we cut the top off a plastic water bottle and assembled the window, we all marched contentedly to the "New Van."

Fun Things

I will be posting random and fun things I find around the house, thanks to my busy little boys. I have a backlog in my picasa albums.

Such as, painting baby brother

A cow in a rocket ship

A pepper that is "blowing"



"Fixed" deoderant



Hammered pasta

Gnawed butter

Taking baby "out of space"


Um...

and...

Home made waffle lid


Stay tuned folks.

If you start using the potty, I'll laugh at your poo with you.

Scrubbing poo out of the carpet before breakfast is not the best marker of a good day. That's OK. I'm keeping my eyes on the Prize.  We are planning our escape to an undisclosed location *.* at an undisclosed time. Having bumbled through the morning with my free-day-at-the-children's-museum virus, I put the kids down for a nap. Tip-toeing to the toaster (sing that in a squeaky voice), with my non-napping baby in one arm, I almost wish someone was witness to my deftness as I yank the toaster lever up, sending my horribly wonderful toaster pastry prize into the sky, high enough for me to snatch it with the same hand. Mmm. The only thing more rewarding than evil treats is managing to gobble them without the boys noticing.

Junk-snacking is not a great idea. This bug already botched my new workout routine after only one trip to the gym! I figured I'd be nice and not share our boogers with them. Interestingly, it seems the last time I had a bug was also the last time I blogged. I'll try not to make that a habit. I've also been "partying" with an over-clocked thyroid, which doesn't make me the friendliest mama on the block, and...also has me constantly seeking a sugar fix.  Oh leetle vacation, where are youuu?

If anyone is keeping a list of things moms/wives don't care to hear, I have a few you can add.  They range in severity from "*sigh*" to "OMG I don't ever want to hear that again."

1. Toddler saying: Mooooooom! Change me! Change me! (accompanied by a squishy trail of special effects)
2. Husband saying: Your toothbrush is awesome!
3. Toddler saying: Dad! Let's play poop! (proceeds to crawl between dad's legs, saying "poooo-oop!")
4. Toddler in bath hollering to me in next room: He he he! I'm tickling myself mom!
5. Toddler to dad: Take! I taked your penis and now you have a 'gina! (I think we're a little obsessed with "down there" right now)
6. Pre-schooler saying proudly: Look! I made a golf club. (holding up carefully torn page from a book)

So the other day, my sweet love sent me a business-romantic meeting request for a 7-hour "special event" that requires a sitter. I don't really care at this point if it's grocery shopping. He's made it so...intriguing, so...mysterious. I'm ready to grab my cart and go! Actually, he's a great "picker", so I know it will be cool.

Guess I'll go Neti the Drooling Yeti (i.e. irrigate my sinuses).