First Day Jitters

Tomorrow is the big day: James' first full day of kindergarten! His first day on the bus and the first day of the next 13 years. We went for a few hours on Friday and the parents heard from the guidance counselor and administration. James was with his class and I think he's fallen hard for his teacher. She a little and perky, but firm from what we saw and I know that my little people pleaser will do well. 

Before we left in Friday, his teacher read a cute story, First Day Jitters about being nervous for school. The funny part is that the teacher is the one with the jitters! The kids had a good laugh and then received a Baggie full of "jitter glitter".

Overall, James seemed excited and not at all nervous. He's loved preschool time with Rhonda and I think he's well prepared. As parents, we're working through all kinds of things. Some of them are pretty easy, just the logistics of it all. We need to pack lunch and a snack. Sneakers on Tuesday and library books in Friday. I've been working through the idea that more and more we are giving up control of our child. This is the way of life, we know that eventually we are raising our children to be independent and strong, but I think my growing pains have been worse then theirs! Again, it's a bittersweet feeling and I'm sure I will be crying after I put my big boy on the bus!

There is a poem in with James' bag of jitter glitter, you're supposed to sprinkle it under your pillow the night before school. Maybe I need to borrow some!

Remember when?

Remember when it was easy to find time to write this blog?

I'm not actually sure that I do remember such a thing.  It seems I'm having trouble remembering so many things lately.

For instance, James starts kindergarten next week and I can hardly remember what it was like for him to be a baby.  He seems so big and independent these days and now he's leaving daycare and going to a new school for long school days where I will have even less control than I do now...  Is that a run on sentence?  I see his baby pictures and I can remember for a minute snuggling his little tiny self, but now I give a hug to a big, heavy boy.  A big boy to tells me his thoughts and about his dreams (always about purple monsters...)  A big boy who plays games with other big boys and leaves his mother totally confused about what is happening.  A big boy who loves his brother and wants nothing more than Logan to follow his beck and call.  Logan, on the other hand, has no time for brother's instructions.

Remember when I thought we'd have two kids and I'd get this feeling of being "done" and then we'd be done?  Ha!  That thought was fleeting and I never had a feeling of done.  So here I am, almost 12 weeks pregnant with number 3.  Even more hilarious, remember when I thought I'd never even have kids? Time has made me a liar.

Kindergarten Registration

Yesterday, we took James to his new school to get registered for kindergarten. We took his list of needed items (birth certificate, deed, shot record) and were in and out in less than 15 minutes. 

James' main concern was wanting to go play with other kids at school. When he found out that we were confined to the front lobby of the school, he was upset.  But after we got some celebratory ice cream, he felt much better. 

At James' request, we went back to daycare and picked his baby brother up early. Then we came home and had a Cinco de Mayo pool party. Overall, a sucessful day. 

On natural childbirth

Having had two c-sections with my boys and never having even approached going into labor, I was unsure what to expect when a good friend of mine opted for a 100% unmedicated birth. During the months leading up to her having the baby, we talked a lot about whether she would actually be able to not take anything. After lots of waiting and a baby that arrived almost a week late, I got the phone call. She was in labor and going to the hospital. Well, going to the hospital after going home for a few hours and a snack. Food is always a priority for pregnant women, right?

By the time I got to the hospital, labor was in full swing. There was bouncing on a yoga ball, a birthing tub and lots of painful moaning. 

For lack of a better way to put it, that shit was crazy. 

I had no idea someone could make the noises that I was hearing. Once, while my friend's husband was getting something out of the car, I got to be her fill in hand holder. She wanted a specific grip and she squeezed like hell. I happily handed her back over to her husband. 

A few hours later, there were cries and screams. She was screaming for drugs and over and over again we'd remind her that she could do it. Breath through the pain and you'll be fine, we'd say. She would talk herself through the pain and occasionally curse us. At one such moment I asked her "So I shouldn't take a mid-labor selfie with you?" She flipped me the bird. 

But we knew she didn't really want the meds.  At one point my self appointed job was to put my hand over the toilet fixtures. Yep, you haven't lived until you've helped your friend labor on a hospital toilet. She kept flinging her head back and I figured the last thing she really needed was a concussion, so I guarded the pipes for almost an hour. 

After 8 hours in the hospital, I made my way home. I had to stay home with Logan that morning and while I was upset at missing the baby's birth, I also wanted to let my friend and her husband have their moment alone. Especially since she stuck to her guns and took no medication. Baby arrived after 24 hours in labor and for every one of them I was thankful for c-sections.

Now, on the back end of things, I see the benefits of her unmedicated birth. After two days in the hospital, mom and baby were on their way home. Since I had other complications, I spent 8 days and 5 days in the hospital for James and Logan. 

On another note, the boys get to meet the new baby today. James is now convinced that Logan is also a big brother. He's so excited to see the baby and so am I!

Sunscreen Failure

Yesterday, the weather was beautiful.  We were outside as a family in the morning and afternoon and it was wonderful all around.  At naptime, I got in a 4 mile run and was proud of myself for getting back into some exercise.  But let's think about that, I went for a run.  At noon.  In the full sun.  With no sunscreen.
So that was a bit of a failure on my part, one that I didn't even think about until we were brushing the boys teeth before bed.  Adam noticed that I was quite red on my shoulders and back and James heard him telling me how sunburned I was.
After brushing his teeth, I helped James into his night clothes and as he did this, James asked, "Mom, does it hurt?"
I said, "Does what hurt?"
"Your sunburn."
"No, it isn't too bad, I forgot to wear sunscreen."
"We always wear sunscreen at the beach!"
"Well yes, James, momma doesn't ever forget to put it on you guys."
"Oh."
I showered and Adam put some aloe on for me.  The burn isn't too bad this morning, but I do have a perfect outline of a racer back tank top.

The boys enjoying the sun

All the Bears

My Grandma Smith had a huge teddy bear collection. One thing I remember from growing up was picking a different bear to sleep with every time we stayed with her. They all had elaborate names and back stories of where she had gotten them. They littered her couch and living room. There were old bears, like the original Smokey the Bear (always a favorite in the very fire prone Northern California) and there new new bears with tutus or cowboy hats. The fact that my dad's nickname is Bear wasn't something I thought of as a kid, but now the boys call him Grandbear and its so very fitting.  

When I was around 16, after her husband passed away, she made an effort to move the bears to one of the back bedrooms, but there were still a few favorites on the couch. 

After Grandma died and items were given out to my cousins, aunt and mom, I ended up with three of the newer bears, a momma and two cubs. Being pregnant with my second son, my mom thought I would enjoy the three bears. 

They have been well loved since they came to Maryland. The momma bear is now a daddy bear (don't worry, there's a smaller momma bear somewhere, I haven't been totally forgotten.)

James calls him Big Bear and he's been hanging out in our living room this week. My boys never met their Great Grandma, but I'm glad they have one last gift from her. 

He's a puker

Logan is a puker. Since the day (almost) he was born, Logan has vomited. A lot. When he was a baby, he ate a lot, and if he didn't stop to burp often, he would puke. Sometimes an entire feeding. Looking back, he could have used some reflux medication, but hindsight is 20/20.

He pukes when food texture isn't what he anticipated. He pukes when he's extra snotty, and he usually is or has been due to his ear issues. Even with the tubes in his ears, he still has a strong gag reflex. Sometimes when he's crying or tantrumming puke is the result of his dramatics. This week he managed to puke on himself and Rhonda at daycare. (I have mentioned that she's a saint before, right?) 

And my real favorite - Logan often forgets to chew his food, a skill you can't quite teach. And the result?

You guessed it. More puke. 

Just this morning, we woke up to find a bed that had been puked in and then slept in. I'm not sure how he managed to sleep like that, but he was out for 12 hours. Adam striped the bed and cleaned the wall while I bathed a very stinky toddler. Divide and conquer!

As time goes on, we've gotten used to the vomit and Logan gets sick less often. 

We joke that it's a good thing he's a second child, because if your first kid was a puker, you might not have a second. 

Two months old, original photo caption: I'm a puker