While we love to watch our boys grow and develop and master new skills, sometimes we wish they would hold on to their imperfections a little longer. For example, David John used to say "strawbaberries" instead of just strawberries. We loved it and were actually pretty sad when he learned to pronounce the word correctly. I wanted to preserve some of the other things our boys say that I will miss when they're older.
1. "intersting" - this does not describe an internal insect sting i.e. a bee in your ear canal; no this is how our boys pronounce interesting. Maybe they are just trying to save time by eliminating one syllable.
2. "badgers" - nope, not an animal but more of a patch. They called Uncle Sam (my brother, not the political cartoon character) to ask him how many Scout badgers he has. They were impressed by his answer of 48.
3. "inside this out" - this is a request to turn something right side out, i.e. they hand us an inside-out shirt and say "inside this out please".
4. "gatoraders" - I know this made you think of reptilian mercenaries or perhaps Floridian frat boys but, in fact, this is the plural form of Gatorade. Our boys got to drink quite a bit of "gatoraders" when they had the stomach flu earlier this month.
5. "hummus bird" - it sounds like something exotic from the middle east, but it's really just a humming bird. It makes me happy that our boys even know the word hummus so they can make the mistake. Also, the state bird of Ohio is not the cardinal but the "carpet bird". I have no idea how it got it's new name.
6. "Easter Egg Bunny" - this one is self explanatory. I just think it's cute that they added the word "egg" to his name. David John loves the Easter Egg Bunny, although this year he was distraught when he opened the markers that were in his Easter basket. They were Color Wonder markers from Crayola. They have clear tips and only color on Color Wonder paper. When David John saw the clear tips he assumed the markers were useless and exclaimed, "Oh man! The Easter Egg Bunny left us dumb markers!"
7. "Barber Ann" - you've probably guessed that this is the title character from the Beach Boys' song "Barbara Ann". Elijah likes the song and requests it some evenings for bedtime. After I sang it he asked me, "Why did you sing 'take my hand'?" "Because that's how the song goes." "Oh. Why does he want to hold hands with his barber?"
8. "beanstalk" - not the kind you can grow in a garden. This is actually a word used to describe what Santa may fill with presents. David John informed me, "I hope Santa leaves me a minion toy and some fruit snacks in my beanstalk at Christmas time."
9. "stickernoodles" - pasta shaped embellishments? Nope. These are cinnamon-sugar cookies, aka snickerdoodles. I think this word might be preserved in our family vocabulary. It's just too cute to let go of. I love our boys' ways with words.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Saturday, April 6, 2013
Baby Bibas
It's been suggested that I have been a little lax about posting pictures of our newest addition. Benjamin calls him "Baby Bibas" which we find irresistibly adorable. Anyway, here are some more recent pics of the little man.
He loves his swing, but it often puts him to sleep.
He just got his social smile about 2 weeks ago. That smile makes our day, especially when it comes with a little "coo".
We were thrilled to have Aunt Gina in town this week. She is a saint and patiently endured all of our plans being ruined by the boys getting the stomach flu and then patiently endured the stomach flu herself.
He is getting so big, so fast. On Thursday he weighed in at a whopping 11lbs 9oz. We can't believe it.
We love you Baby Bibas!
He loves his swing, but it often puts him to sleep.
He just got his social smile about 2 weeks ago. That smile makes our day, especially when it comes with a little "coo".
We were thrilled to have Aunt Gina in town this week. She is a saint and patiently endured all of our plans being ruined by the boys getting the stomach flu and then patiently endured the stomach flu herself.
He is getting so big, so fast. On Thursday he weighed in at a whopping 11lbs 9oz. We can't believe it.
We love you Baby Bibas!
Blessed
We blessed little Tobias on March 3rd. It was a wonderful day, surrounded by our family and friends. I love that when we welcome a baby into our family he is instantly adored by a large cast of people. For Tobias' blessing we were able to have Marc's parents present in addition to my dad and two of my brothers. Marc's favorite mission companion drove over from Pennsylvania with his wife and four kids and we also had some of our close friends from Marc's work at the church and then the luncheon afterwards. A big thanks to everyone for helping with lunch preparations and keeping track the 7 little boys running around the house. Marc's mom made her amazing rolls and we had delicious deli meats that I purchased from Yeleseyevsky's Deli*. I've always wanted to go in there and Tobias gave me a great excuse. His blessing day was just another reminder of how good life has been to us and how much we will miss Cleveland and the ties we have made here. We are just so so blessed.
*Yeleseyevsky's Deli is not only fun to say but is a delightful place to visit. While the name is Polish, most of the people inside were speaking Russian and they offer not only meats but a wide variety of Russian and Polish products. We sampled some foreign chocolate and gummy candies. Beware the deli counter woman. She can be a little stern with us English-only speakers. I asked for some turkey and when she reached for the chicken I said "Oh no, the turkey please." She glared at me and spoke with her thick Russian accent. "You SAID chicken." It took courage to ask her to please get the turkey instead. I have suspicions she used to work for the mafia..The meats were fabulous though and the cashier was very nice. They even took VISA. I enjoyed hearing "Spasibo!" as I left the store.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Home Coming
We arrived home today after being away on a house-hunting trip in ND. The joys of being in one's own house reminded me that I wanted to write a post about coming home from the hospital. I have a chronic problem of desiring to write and imagining lines for so many more posts than I actually find the time to blog. Anyway, since Tobias is the last baby we will bring home from the hospital, I wanted to capture the experience.
Whenever I am late in pregnancy, I always get well-meaning advice to stay in the hospital as long as possible when the baby arrives so that I can recover before returning to my other munchkins at home. However, I always find the hospital to be less restful and just less desirable in general than my own home. It's not because of the people, our nurses this time in particular were absolutely fabulous. In fact, I had the very same postpartum nurse that I had with Benjamin. She was thrilled to see Benjamin when he came to visit Tobias. I bet nurses don't often get a chance to meet the babies they help take care of when they are a little older.
No, it wasn't the people, the problem with being in the hospital was 3-fold: the rules, the bed and the food.
Hospital rules require that poor mothers who are supposed to be resting get woken up, not only by their newborn babies, but by nurses coming to check vital signs in the middle of the night. I wanted to tell them that if I started dying I would let them know right away. Honestly, as soon as I am aware that Death is on his way to collect me I will push the nurse call button, I promise. Until then, you can assume that all of my vital signs are present and accounted for. It is unlikely that I would even be comfortable enough to slip into unconsciousness much less die anyway because of the awesomeness of the hospital bed.
Oh, the bed. Is there any more amazing piece of technology? The bed self-inflates based on how much pressure your body is putting on various parts of the mattress! The bed can be adjusted to multiple heights! The bed's head can be raised and lowered so that you can sit up to feed your baby and then lay down to go back to sleep! The bed is great for so many things! Except sleeping. Not so good for sleeping. The bed is uncomfortable. When it self-inflates, it sounds like your neighbor is mowing the lawn. Under your bed. When you raise or lower the head it creaks like the Titanic did as it was sinking into the Atlantic.
When you are able to shut out these noises, ignore the discomfort and drift off to sleep, you have disturbing dreams about being hired to mow the lawn on the Titanic while a screaming baby is strapped to your back. To me, this is less than restful.
After an eventful night of nursing, yard maintenance, and witnessing the death throes of a massive ocean-liner, one can naturally expect to be quite hungry; famished, in fact. At our hospital, they have a lovely system in which you call the cafeteria when you are hungry and order a meal off of a menu located on your bedside table next to the phone. The cafeteria then makes your food and supposedly it arrives in your room in about 30 minutes. In reality, the food arrives anywhere in the neighborhood of 1-3 hours after you order it in varying states of temperature and quantity. Sometimes you get two pieces of French Toast for breakfast, sometimes eight. An entree salad comes with one small packet of dressing. A side salad comes with 3 large dressing packets. A baked potato or a stack of pancakes comes with a single pat of butter. A solitary dinner roll arrives with four. Each tray of food arrived with a receipt delineating what was on your tray. Sometime quantities listed on the receipt differed from that in the tray. Specifically, only one cookie often appeared when the receipt said two. I think there was a cookie thief in the kitchen.
To stave off the pangs of food deprivation, Marc and I would imagine what was happening to cause such massive delays. We envisioned a giant Rube Goldberg machine much like the mousetrap game so that each time a tray needed to be loaded with food, someone had to spend 15 minutes setting up the machine and starting the chain reaction with a giant metal ball. We also speculated that perhaps there were cafeteria worker union regulations that only allowed them to prepare a certain quantity of food i.e. 3 trays in any given hour. Despite getting often cold, often tasteless food hours after we ordered it, we found it very difficult to complain. That is because the cafeteria has a secret weapon. Her name is Valentina. Valentina would bring the trays into our room with the air of one bringing in an expensive catered dinner. A matronly figure with a bubbly personality, blonde curls, dimpled smile and a beautiful Russian accent, it was impossible to complain to Valentina. You could just tell she sincerely wanted to help you and she sincerely wanted you to enjoy your food. We always felt embarrassed when food was left on the trays because we didn't want Valentina to know that it was less than delicious. Such were her powers that I believe she could negotiate peace in the Middle East. No one would be able to bring themselves to complain about the policies of neighboring countries with Valentina in the room. A treaty would be signed in no time.
At any rate, we were relieved when the hospital released us early to come home. Being married to a pediatrician has its perks. It was so nice to come home to my own bed. Marc didn't check my vitals even once in the night. It was great to get meals cooked by my mom or members of the ward and it was fun to see the "Welcome Home" decorations the boys made for us and Tobias. The pictures and signs were very sweet, even David John's random signs that read "Yogurt" and "Bubbles". The point is, there is no place like home and that is where I want to be.
Whenever I am late in pregnancy, I always get well-meaning advice to stay in the hospital as long as possible when the baby arrives so that I can recover before returning to my other munchkins at home. However, I always find the hospital to be less restful and just less desirable in general than my own home. It's not because of the people, our nurses this time in particular were absolutely fabulous. In fact, I had the very same postpartum nurse that I had with Benjamin. She was thrilled to see Benjamin when he came to visit Tobias. I bet nurses don't often get a chance to meet the babies they help take care of when they are a little older.
No, it wasn't the people, the problem with being in the hospital was 3-fold: the rules, the bed and the food.
Hospital rules require that poor mothers who are supposed to be resting get woken up, not only by their newborn babies, but by nurses coming to check vital signs in the middle of the night. I wanted to tell them that if I started dying I would let them know right away. Honestly, as soon as I am aware that Death is on his way to collect me I will push the nurse call button, I promise. Until then, you can assume that all of my vital signs are present and accounted for. It is unlikely that I would even be comfortable enough to slip into unconsciousness much less die anyway because of the awesomeness of the hospital bed.
Oh, the bed. Is there any more amazing piece of technology? The bed self-inflates based on how much pressure your body is putting on various parts of the mattress! The bed can be adjusted to multiple heights! The bed's head can be raised and lowered so that you can sit up to feed your baby and then lay down to go back to sleep! The bed is great for so many things! Except sleeping. Not so good for sleeping. The bed is uncomfortable. When it self-inflates, it sounds like your neighbor is mowing the lawn. Under your bed. When you raise or lower the head it creaks like the Titanic did as it was sinking into the Atlantic.
When you are able to shut out these noises, ignore the discomfort and drift off to sleep, you have disturbing dreams about being hired to mow the lawn on the Titanic while a screaming baby is strapped to your back. To me, this is less than restful.
After an eventful night of nursing, yard maintenance, and witnessing the death throes of a massive ocean-liner, one can naturally expect to be quite hungry; famished, in fact. At our hospital, they have a lovely system in which you call the cafeteria when you are hungry and order a meal off of a menu located on your bedside table next to the phone. The cafeteria then makes your food and supposedly it arrives in your room in about 30 minutes. In reality, the food arrives anywhere in the neighborhood of 1-3 hours after you order it in varying states of temperature and quantity. Sometimes you get two pieces of French Toast for breakfast, sometimes eight. An entree salad comes with one small packet of dressing. A side salad comes with 3 large dressing packets. A baked potato or a stack of pancakes comes with a single pat of butter. A solitary dinner roll arrives with four. Each tray of food arrived with a receipt delineating what was on your tray. Sometime quantities listed on the receipt differed from that in the tray. Specifically, only one cookie often appeared when the receipt said two. I think there was a cookie thief in the kitchen.
To stave off the pangs of food deprivation, Marc and I would imagine what was happening to cause such massive delays. We envisioned a giant Rube Goldberg machine much like the mousetrap game so that each time a tray needed to be loaded with food, someone had to spend 15 minutes setting up the machine and starting the chain reaction with a giant metal ball. We also speculated that perhaps there were cafeteria worker union regulations that only allowed them to prepare a certain quantity of food i.e. 3 trays in any given hour. Despite getting often cold, often tasteless food hours after we ordered it, we found it very difficult to complain. That is because the cafeteria has a secret weapon. Her name is Valentina. Valentina would bring the trays into our room with the air of one bringing in an expensive catered dinner. A matronly figure with a bubbly personality, blonde curls, dimpled smile and a beautiful Russian accent, it was impossible to complain to Valentina. You could just tell she sincerely wanted to help you and she sincerely wanted you to enjoy your food. We always felt embarrassed when food was left on the trays because we didn't want Valentina to know that it was less than delicious. Such were her powers that I believe she could negotiate peace in the Middle East. No one would be able to bring themselves to complain about the policies of neighboring countries with Valentina in the room. A treaty would be signed in no time.
At any rate, we were relieved when the hospital released us early to come home. Being married to a pediatrician has its perks. It was so nice to come home to my own bed. Marc didn't check my vitals even once in the night. It was great to get meals cooked by my mom or members of the ward and it was fun to see the "Welcome Home" decorations the boys made for us and Tobias. The pictures and signs were very sweet, even David John's random signs that read "Yogurt" and "Bubbles". The point is, there is no place like home and that is where I want to be.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Caution
I am sitting in the Minneapolis/Saint Paul Airport waiting for our flight to Bismarck, ND. Periodically, I hear a suave female voice with a British accent announcing, "Caution, you are reaching the end of the moving walkway." emanating from the delightful moving walkways positioned behind our gate. This made me wish for my own warning system announced by a suave British woman. "Caution, you are reaching the end of your mother's patience." That way, when I am starting to get really upset, I wouldn't have to express this to my boys, they would be warned in a calm, reasonable way. Maybe this could work for husbands too. "Caution, you are reaching the end of your wife's rope. Please stop what you are doing and plan a romantic evening out." If men listen to the voice on their GPS, surely they would listen to this advice as well. Do you think there are already patents out on personal warning systems?
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Showered With Flowers
Since Tobias was born, we have been basking in the warmth of the affection of our friends and family both near and far. We have received meals, gallons of milk, cookies, clothes, candy, babysitting and beautiful bouquets of flowers. For a solid week there, I felt as though I were living in a greenhouse. Each time I walked by one of those gorgeous vases of flowers it reminded me just how lucky I am. So far, life with baby Tobias has been a bit bumpy. He is a wonderfully sweet baby, but has had some unexpected needs. All of this love and support is seeing me through a difficult adjustment to 5 little boys 5 and under. I wanted to share our beautiful blooms (not to mention the balloon flowers Marc made for me) and a cute picture of the little man himself. Thank you, thank you to all who have showered us with the blessing of your friendship.
The David John Dialogues
We are thoroughly enjoying David John's 3-year-old-isms. Here are some of our recent favorites:
David John came with me to the side door when we heard a knock. We found a flyer asking us to support our local fire department.
D: Is that mail, Mommy?
Me: No, buddy. It's a flyer. Do you want it?
D: Yes. (thoughtful pause) Can I put it in my backpack to go to preschool?
Me: Sure,
D: Maybe I should not take it out of the house. If I take it out of the house and it flies away, it might not fly back to our house.
Me: Oh. I see. I hate to tell you this, but it doesn't really fly. It's just a piece of paper.
D: (smiling at me as though I am teasing him) No! Mommy! It is not paper. It is a flyer.
He happily took it to school in his backpack and I can report that it did come back home.
At preschool, they are doing an ocean unit so there is a lot of talk in our house about fish and other ocean creatures. The boys have also been bringing home a lot of ocean-themed crafts.
D: Mom, we made an octopus at school today. Octopusses have lollipops so they can walk.
Me: You made an octopus at school with lollipops for its legs?
D: No! I did not make a octopus with lollipops. Octopusses just have lollipops ON their legs so they can walk.
Me: Hmmm.... I'm not sure what you mean.
D: Mom! They have lollipops on their legs!
Me: Oh! Do you mean suckers? They have suckers on their tentacles?
D: Yes! Suckers! Lollipops!
I then tried to explain that "lollipops" was not always a good synonym for "suckers" but I don't think he got the message. At least I figured out what he was talking about.
Marc decided to run out and pick up a prescription one evening while I got the boys ready for bed. Marc generally hates shopping and does not often go to the store unless I am with him.
Marc: Okay guys, I'm going to run to the store for a few minutes.
D: Mom, are you leaving to the store too?
Me: No, just Daddy is going.
D: What?!? Daddy is leaving to the store by himself?!?
Me: Yep. Daddy is going to the store all by himself.
D: That's impossible! If Daddy leaves to the store I will pee my pants!
(Other people almost peed their pants because they were laughing so hard.)
David John loves to check the mailbox for mail and help carry the envelopes and sales ads into the house. Sometimes he checks it multiple times a day which means he is frequently disappointed by an empty mailbox. Apparently, he thought something sinister was going on because when he checked it today and found it empty he exclaimed. "I guess somebody stole our mail AGAIN!"
David John kept turning off a show the other kids were watching at a play date. I sat him down on my lap to talk about his naughty behavior.
Me: I hear you are making choices that are making the other kids sad.
D: No, I am not making them sad. (wicked grin) I am making them angry.
My friend and I tried valiantly not to laugh but it was a while before I could talk to him again with straight face.
Oh, we love that kid.
David John came with me to the side door when we heard a knock. We found a flyer asking us to support our local fire department.
D: Is that mail, Mommy?
Me: No, buddy. It's a flyer. Do you want it?
D: Yes. (thoughtful pause) Can I put it in my backpack to go to preschool?
Me: Sure,
D: Maybe I should not take it out of the house. If I take it out of the house and it flies away, it might not fly back to our house.
Me: Oh. I see. I hate to tell you this, but it doesn't really fly. It's just a piece of paper.
D: (smiling at me as though I am teasing him) No! Mommy! It is not paper. It is a flyer.
He happily took it to school in his backpack and I can report that it did come back home.
At preschool, they are doing an ocean unit so there is a lot of talk in our house about fish and other ocean creatures. The boys have also been bringing home a lot of ocean-themed crafts.
D: Mom, we made an octopus at school today. Octopusses have lollipops so they can walk.
Me: You made an octopus at school with lollipops for its legs?
D: No! I did not make a octopus with lollipops. Octopusses just have lollipops ON their legs so they can walk.
Me: Hmmm.... I'm not sure what you mean.
D: Mom! They have lollipops on their legs!
Me: Oh! Do you mean suckers? They have suckers on their tentacles?
D: Yes! Suckers! Lollipops!
I then tried to explain that "lollipops" was not always a good synonym for "suckers" but I don't think he got the message. At least I figured out what he was talking about.
Marc decided to run out and pick up a prescription one evening while I got the boys ready for bed. Marc generally hates shopping and does not often go to the store unless I am with him.
Marc: Okay guys, I'm going to run to the store for a few minutes.
D: Mom, are you leaving to the store too?
Me: No, just Daddy is going.
D: What?!? Daddy is leaving to the store by himself?!?
Me: Yep. Daddy is going to the store all by himself.
D: That's impossible! If Daddy leaves to the store I will pee my pants!
(Other people almost peed their pants because they were laughing so hard.)
David John loves to check the mailbox for mail and help carry the envelopes and sales ads into the house. Sometimes he checks it multiple times a day which means he is frequently disappointed by an empty mailbox. Apparently, he thought something sinister was going on because when he checked it today and found it empty he exclaimed. "I guess somebody stole our mail AGAIN!"
David John kept turning off a show the other kids were watching at a play date. I sat him down on my lap to talk about his naughty behavior.
Me: I hear you are making choices that are making the other kids sad.
D: No, I am not making them sad. (wicked grin) I am making them angry.
My friend and I tried valiantly not to laugh but it was a while before I could talk to him again with straight face.
Oh, we love that kid.
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