Oh brother!

Bryce had his 4 month appointment last week.  Reed was performing the whole time, saying hi to “Doctor Mike” and showing off with is look and find book.  He was very charming and I think he likes the appointment much more when the doctor is poking and looking at Bryce rather than him.  However, he is the ever protective big brother and doesn’t like anyone else picking on Bryce and making him cry.  It’s perfectly fine if he makes him cry, but heaven forbid if anyone else does.  Bryce is perfectly healthy and impressively strong (good genes!) so the only concern is the flat head that he’s developed, which is more of a concern on my part than it was for Dr. Garrison.  He said he’s seen worse and that it wasn’t too late.  By the way, it’s really no comfort when a doctor tells you they’ve “seen worse” because, of course they have- they’re doctors!  I don’t know why they think this is supposed to be reassuring.  

Regardless, Mike and I have made such an effort to not leave Bryce lying around because I really didn’t want him to have a flat head. I was aware of it since before he was even born and swore that I’d carry him and hold him jus t as much as I did Reed.  I feel so bad for second babies who get left lying on their backs.   I’ve tried to hold him as much as I can with a toddler running around my house.  It’s been much easier over the past month or so that he’s strong enough to sit in the walker or bumbo seat, so he’s off his head more during the day.  The culprit is the fact that he sleeps on his back and I mean flat on his back.  Reed never did- Reed was a tummy sleeper and would sleep no other way, so he has a beautifully round skull in the back.  Poor Bryce, I don’t want him to think that he has a flat head because we don’t love him as much!  Maybe I can massage it and get it to round back out.

I even tried to get him to sleep on his tummy for naps, but he never liked it.  You can only do so much. I know you can’t put a whole lot of merit into their measurements as babies besides to check on growth and consistency.  There’s really no direct correlation to their height and weight as adults, but so far it looks like Bryce could be bigger than Reed.  He was a pound less and almost an inch smaller at birth, but since then he’s grown more rapidly than Reed did at his 4 month appointment.  Bryce is 16lbs and 26.9 inches.  Two pounds more and an inch longer than Reed was.  This is to his advantage if Reed continues to brutalize him- at least Bryce will catch up faster and be able to hold his own ground around his big brother!  I’ve been told they will fight, I’ve been told they’ll be best friends and worse enemies.  I know it won’t prepare me, but I’ve been told, so at least I’ve been warned. I’m a girl so it’s going to be hard for me to relate, their childhood will be vastly different from mine.  Don’t worry, I’ve got two books on raising boys so I plan to be well read on the subject and braced for the impact.

I’ve read a few chapters; let’s just say I’m buying stock in Band-Aid.

Bryce still likes the Soothie pacifiers, they’re the big, round, gummy kind. He hasn’t yet transitioned to the plastic kind with the handle on them.  The problem is that as soon as he loosens his suction, that thing will bounce all the way across the room and out the door before you can blink.  So, we’ve been using this “wubbanub” pacifier (can you believe they named it that?) that we actually received as a gift at my baby shower for Reed. It has a little stuffed animal attached to it, so it looks like he’s cuddling with this little blue pony on his chest. 

We’ve come to rely heavily on it, especially at night and in the car.  

The one on the left is my creation!

I’m sure you can guess what’s coming, yes, we lost it.  It took one day of searching all over the house and retracing my footsteps leading up to the disappearance before I broke down and “popped in” to check BabiesRUs for a replacement.  I say “pop in” because there is no such thing when you have two littles.  Hauling them in and out of anywhere is a chore and must be made worth it! Much to my dismay, I found the display of pacifiers utterly disappointing.  Right there in the middle of the wall, almost swallowed by the rest of them was the lone hanger- empty from tip to end.  The tag above it was labeled, Wubbanub (what a ridiculous name).  Of course.  I felt defeated.  Of course they were out of stock, it was only the ONE thing I needed. I had a fix when in mind when got home.  My remedy was a quick sew job with a Soothie and a palomino horse beanie baby.  It’s a much larger animal than the one that comes on a Wubbanub (for crying out loud, could they have come up with a better name?) but it was a much cheaper option! The best part is that I’ve been receiving compliments on it everywhere we go.  People point to it and say, “is that one of those Wubbanubs? It’s so cute! I’ve never seen one like that!” to which I admit, “Nope, I made it myself.” Mommy MacGyver style!

The original has since been found. But of course!

The one about Mother's Day of course!

I owe a big thanks to my sweet husband for making my Mother’s Day special. First, you should know that Mike doesn't celebrate mothers in general on Mother’s Day.  He’s a firm believer in Mother’s Day being celebrated between mother and child.   Since we have a bit of a conflicting view on the subject, last year was a disaster. I thought it was going to be a very special day filled with sweet surprises and loving gifts.  After all, I’m the mother of his children!  I’m the only mother in this home, I’m pretty much the queen of all mothers in his life right now.  He thought that spending the day together and going to lunch was a good enough celebration. He assumed that Mother’s Day wouldn’t really be celebrated until the boys were old enough to really understand and show their appreciation.  By the time we were in bed that night, ready to go to sleep, I had finally realized that Mother’s Day was over and there weren’t going to be any last minute gifts or sweet tokens.  At least I was able to open up and tell him how disappointed I was in my first real mother’s day.  I explained my expectations and he explained his position.

 This year he made a sweet effort to celebrate on behalf of the boys.  There was a bouquet of flowers on the counter when I woke in the morning, with a wrapped gift, bag of dark chocolates and a card.  The card had notes written for each of the boys as well as himself.  The gift was a pretty set of lotions, and breakfast was toasted Eggo waffles with sliced strawberries and powdered sugar.  The theme was perfect, and gave me a glimpse into the future when it really is the boys choosing my breakfast and my gifts.

Mother’s Day is a reminder of how much responsibility is on our shoulders. On Mother’s Day, all around us are constant reminders of where we are falling short.   Clips and poems and sayings about what a mother is.  Who are these women that this stuff is based on?  The sermon at church on Sunday was a tribute to mothers and their unconditional love.  The bond between mother and child- forged from the womb, and I get this part. I love my babies more than anything in this world and I would do absolutely anything for them.  The sermon went on about how moms heal wounds with their kisses, they have never ending patience, they are great teachers, keep everything organized, know where everything is, clean up spills, kill germs and make a home comfortable and warm. Mom is the cook, the janitor, the driver, the teacher, coach, mentor, and agent.  In my house, most of these duties are split.  Mike is definitely more patient than me.  I’m not really a great cook, at least not a consistent cook.  I only drive when I’m the only adult in the car and Mike is their role model, rightly so.  We alternate who feeds the boys, we alternate who brushes Reed’s teeth and who puts them down.  I don’t dive to the rescue when Reed is hurt and cover his boo-boos in kisses.  He doesn’t normally require affection after a spill.  I’m supposed to be the foreign language translator , but half the time I don’t know what the heck Reed is saying either, so don’t look at me! I’m even supposed to be able to distinguish Bryce’s different cries.  I know two cries- there is a cry for “I’m either tired, hungry or need a new diaper.” And then there’s “I’m in physical pain because my brother is a brute.” The latter is high pitched and on the verge of hysterical.  But the first cry doesn’t distinguish between the 3 needs.  I just check off the boxes till I get the one that soothes him. 

I don’t take on any of the jobs single-handedly.  Maybe I should have given Mike a happy mother’s day card!  
Does that make me a bad mom? Are you guys disappointed in me?  This is the honest truth of it all.  I’ve got less than two years experience and I’m still learning.  At least I can say that I love to learn.  I even attended a conference last week, called Project Mom- Be Even Better. My iPad is now packed with both voice memo recordings of the speakers and notes from each class I took.  But the first thing I did when I got home is go over all my notes with Mike and try to decide how to apply new new-found knowledge. 

My marriage is a partnership!  I’ll admit that all the Mother’s Day stuff going around really made me feel like I wasn’t measuring up, but then I decided that I am just lucky to have such a great partner who can pick up all my slack!

The one about a sparkplug drama queen

I’m a bit of a spark plug.  I can be passionate, opinionated and a bit bossy.  Mike is so laid back that in the beginning of our relationship he had a hard time listening to my stories.  I never give the short version- I can try, but when I fail, I usually end up going back to the beginning and starting over.  I re-live the story, I get worked up all over again, and Mike would say, “Why are you yelling at me?”

Then I would yell, “I’m not yelling at you! I’m just telling the story!”  I didn’t understand why he couldn’t just listen to the story and it was distracting to me that he wasn’t paying attention to what I was saying, but instead to how I was saying it.

My mom can tell you that my stories have always started with a full description.  I was teased as a child, “Yes Connie, the sky was blue and the grass was green- just get to the point.”  It hurt my feelings to be teased about the way I told my stories.  I just wanted to come home from school and talk about my day.  I just wanted to go back on Monday and tell my friends how my weekend was.  If you hear a, “Fine, how was yours?” from me, then something is probably wrong. Either that, or I’m conducting some sort of social experiment.

Mike used to call me a drama-queen.  I call it passionate.  I choose a side and I commit to it. I decide how I feel about something and I give all my supporting evidence to back it. I can change my mind in a week- but at that moment, I’m sticking firmly to my guns.

I can’t apologize for the way I am.  I accept the way I am, I try to tailor and shape my behavior for certain situations, of course, but when I need to be me- this is what you get.  I work at giving my boss the short version, people I’ve just met get the socially correct answer.  However, my husband and my good friends just have to love me like this!

The most successful friendships I’ve had have always been with a compatible personality.  Someone who will let me talk- make me feel like my details are appreciated.  Someone who doesn’t want to compete with me for time to talk.  A similar personality to mine is probably not going to work out.

I once told a guy that chocolate is the key to my heart, but that wasn’t true. Listening is the fastest way in and questions, feedback and sympathy are sure to seal the deal.

I can talk for hours. I find myself very fascinating.  Is that the first-born daughter in me? The self-interest? The easiest way for me to fill silence is by talking about myself.  I’ve been working on a filter, but it’s a constant battle. 

I love learning about my friends too. Their experiences, the reasons behind their decisions, their thoughts on different theories.  But, it’s a struggle to keep from butting in with my own additions.

Blogging is a great outlet and I love each one of you for reading it regularly.  I hope I’m keeping it interesting enough for you all!

The one where I brag- about me as well as Reed!

Life has been so fun and so busy lately.  I don’t know where the time is going, but somehow it’s May! At least I know I’m not the only one feeling like I have my head sticking out the window of a speeding train and life is a blur of beautiful colors whirring by. However hard it is to make out the shapes and details- it’s still amazing, fun and breathtaking!

I need to take a moment to brag here for a second.  I don’t think you guys realize how abusive I am to my creative talent.  The moments when I feel inspired and words are bubbling up inside me- I usually have my hands full.  I’ll be feeding Bryce a bottle, holding him in my arms and looking into his blue eyes, when the thoughts and ideas start rolling through.  I might be sitting at Reed’s bedside in the dim light of his lamp, reading him a book and looking at the way he’s just kicking back and listening to my voice and I think, “I never want to forget this moment”.

But I have to wait!  I have to save it all up- keep a couple notes in my phone so I don’t forget topics, and then when, or mostly, IF the boys nap at the same time- I can plop down and throw open the laptop.  GO! I tell my fingers. Hurry! You have precious few minutes here, so get going!  Its difficult, let me tell you.  Writers block is not an option.  There’s no warm up exercises- I just have to start typing and hope that something intelligible shows up on the screen.  I apologize deeply for the times when it doesn’t and you end up trying to decipher my ramblings.

So I have to applaud myself for being able to pound this out on demand.

I want to talk about some of the things Reed is saying and doing right now.  I’m sure I’ve mentioned that he knows all the letters of the alphabet. He can both identify when asked, “Reed, what letter is this?” or if asked, “Reed, where’s the letter S?”  But that’s been months ago- well before his 18 month mark, so now we’re working on the sound that the letter makes.  We are also teaching him the shapes of the states, so you can ask him, “Reed, where’s Oklahoma?”  His Cars book has a few of them, so he can point out Oklahoma, Texas, California, Arizona… the others are sketchy and hit or miss at this point.

Reed has started putting sentences together.  The one we probably hear the most is “Oh no, Reed.”  This probably means he fell (he doesn’t cry when he gets hurt unless its pretty serious).  At 19 months he said, “Yay school bus!” when he saw a bus, so I asked him, “Reed do you want to go to school today?”  He said, “No.  No Yay School”.  I guess school wasn’t “yay” that day!  Unfortunate, because he had to go anyway, but it made me really happy because he was expressing his feelings about it. Two weeks later I made him an omelet for breakfast and when I set it in front of him he said, “Mommy. Cook. Egg.”  Mike and I both got so excited to hear him say that!  He repeated it to himself over and over.  

Then last week right before he hit 20 months he put two of his regular phrases together into one big one.  He likes to point out that I’m driving so he’ll say, “Mommy drive. Mommy drive.  Reed, no drive” He likes to sit in the front seat when we get home and play at the wheel while we’re parked in the garage.  He also likes to point out our vehicles so he’ll say, “Mommy’s car” and “Dad’s truck”.  Well, last week Mike and I had switched vehicles so I could take the double stroller to the zoo and Reed said, “Mommy drive- Dad’s truck”. 

These kinds of things make me act like I’m on drugs.  There is no casual and calm praise given, no.  It’s a high pitched flurry of praises coming out of my mouth like a machine gun.  “Reedthat’ssogreat! You’resosmart! YoujustsaidMommyDriveDad’sTruck! That’ssogood! You’reamazing! ILoveYousoMUCH! GreatJobReed!!! You’resosmart! I’msoProudofYOU!”

Pretty amazing the stuff you’re capable of when you become a mom.  You know the super-powers that you get just for becoming a parent? They’re supposed to be things like super human strength (lifting a car off your child) or lightning fast speed (catching your baby from falling off a tall landing at the playground) usually to save your child’s life.  So far my only super-power has been lighting fast speed of the mouth and superhuman strength of the vocal chords.

I know he thinks I’m a goofball.  I’m subscribed to the “praise good behavior” school of thought.  He said “bup” for a long time and then changed to “mup” before finally sounding out the word milk correctly. When he did, I made such a scene that he looked at me with twinkling eyes and a half smile like- “wow, Mom. Okay, I’ll call it milk from now on.”  The shower of kisses, hugs and chanting, “Yousaidmilk! Yousaidmilk!”  made him feel pretty darn good.

One of the sweetest things is when he hears Bryce crying and he says in his sing-song voice, “Bryyyyce”.  Sometimes he wants to put his pacifier in for him, but sometimes he just keeps doing whatever he’s doing and calls out to Bryce, as if just the sound of his brother’s voice will call the little guy down.

We drove to Fayetteville last weekend for a weekend of bike racing and Reed has been cheering, “GO MIKE!” and “GO CRAIG” ever since.  I don’t think he’s realized who “Mike” is yet.  He likes to say it because he gets us to chuckle and the kid sure has a sense of humor, so he likes to be funny.  Saturday afternoon was the road race and Mike came in a few minutes after the lead pack.  I said, “Oh man, Reed. Dad got dropped.”  When Mike circled back around and came to talk to us, the first thing his little toddler says to him is, “Dad dropped” (in a very disappointed voice, no less!) He’s a mocking bird, and not only did he pick up what I said, and my tone- but he repeated it over and over for hours!! Poor Mike!!

It was a great weekend, though. Both boys did really well with the trip and we had lots of fun at not only the races but the park nearby and the hotel pool. Our friends Josie, Matt and Luke were also there for the races, so that made it fun to have good friends around.

We are looking forward to the next one!

The one about the things we do as parents!

Reed met one of his favorite super heroes! Super Why!

We do some really silly things once we are parents.  Two years ago if you caught me wearing an Elmo shirt, you would have to ask if I lost a bet.  Now, you would know that I giggled to myself when I saw the shirt because the thought of bringing a huge smile to Reed’s surprised face to see it on me, would be worth the purchase.

I had so many rules before I had kids and I thought they would stay thick black lines.  I didn’t want toys in the living room. Toys belong in the bedroom.  Yet, there are toys strung across every living area in my house.  I didn’t want childish baby clothes- puppy dogs and dinosaurs were rejected.  Plaid button ups, solid polos and argyle sweater vests were hunted. Okay, so this rule has stayed quite ridged- I still love “little man clothes”  and our rule is that if Mike wouldn’t wear it, then the boys can’t wear it. Except sweater vests- haha! Mike wouldn’t be caught dead in one and such.  The only bend there is the pajamas. Reed loves Cars, Elmo, Thomas and the like- so bedtime is an exciting time because he gets to wear his “choo choo pants”. 

I scour the internet for family activities and events to take the boys to.  What I consider fun is what I know will bring joy to Reed.  My favorite band is now Spaghetti Eddie.  I search the calendar on his fan page for the next concert that I can take the boys to.  When family comes to visit- I want drag them to all our “regular” spots.  Tuesdays is library day.  Our library has a large children’s room where they host storytime, or “lapsit”.  The lady who runs it, Amy, does basically the same routine each time.  15 minutes of free play, then the clean up song.  After that she will do a few songs like “itsy bitsy spider” and “head, shoulders, knees and toes” and then maybe a book.  Following that is the felt board where we search for either the mouse behind a house, a goat behind a boat, or kitten behind a mitten.   There is some dancing for the toddlers- a CD she plays with the songs “Finger poppin” and “shake your sillies out”.  Lastly is the bubble machine, which is probably the favorite. The kids follow her around like a tot-cult.  This is every week on Tuesdays and Reed loves the library.  I can ask him, Reed do you want to go to the library? I will always get a “yes!” in answer.  Sometimes we hit the Children’s Museum after the library and it’s a ton of fun, too!  Another reason Tuesdays are so great is that it’s garbage day and oh boy- that is a big event around here! Reed is fascinated by the garbage truck!

Last week, Mike took the day off to spend a wonderful Tuesday with us.  He got to see just how much Reed enjoys the library.  Both of our moms, as well as our dear friend Cassie, have taken Reed to the library for me (the 3 weeks  after Bryce was born).  I feel honored to take him every week so I can imagine just how special it was for each of them to experience that with him.  Thursdays is normally the zoo. They have a great playground, perfect for Reed’s size.  Really good playgrounds are a tough find.  I have an eye that’s always on the lookout when I drive past a park.  Location is important, followed by cleanliness and variety of equipment.  A steering wheel somewhere in the playground is a must for Reed.  That’s guaranteed to keep his attention and earn his approval.

The signs painted on a restaurant window advertising “Family Night” would put a mental note in my mind to STEER CLEAR!  Now it’s the opposite. The more entertainment and activities I can find for my littles the better!  It’s not about me anymore. It’s about my boys having fun.  I never understood the sacrifice until I was making it myself.  I didn’t get why mom’s tortured themselves by hauling their kids around and suffering through the mind numbing noise and clatter that they love.  But it’s not a sacrifice at all!  I love it! I need it and I seek it out!

When Bryce was born, people thought it would slow me down.  Thought I’d become a hermit.  They thought they’d have to come to me in order to play because it’d be too complicated and too difficult for me to get out of the house with them both.  No way, I say.  I’m out as much as I can be while Bryce is still a breeze!  He’ll sleep anywhere, take a bottle anywhere and can’t run away!  I don’t know if I’ll stay as mobile or as willing to pop in and out of places, but we’ll just have to wait to see what happens!

The one about big differences

At 3 months old Bryce is already so different from Reed.  First, let me say that I always thought Reed was a pretty easy baby.  That was before I learned what a joy Bryce is.  He’s taught me the textbook definition of “easy baby”.  You can always see a smile playing around his eyes just waiting to pop out. His grin is so easy to draw out, in fact, I can’t even claim credit for it 80% of the time.  He doesn’t normally cry unless its one of the three things he’s trying to communicate. (Hungry, sleepy wet).  Reed used to cry because he wanted soothed.  He preferred to be bouncing, swaying, sung to- and of course always, always to be held.

Bryce enjoys being held, but sometimes he just wants his space.  It feels like you’re just giving up- in the evenings when he’s had a bottle and a clean diaper, and he’s done playing in my lap- he will start to squirm and grunt like something is wrong.  My natural reaction is to hold him closer, bounce him and hum a little tune or “shh shh shh”.  What he really wants is for me to go lay him down in his bed!  As soon as we release him, his whole body relaxes as if in a big sigh, “Ahhh… that’s all I needed! Now go away!”
This is so funny because I think he always needs me in order to be happy. I didn’t know babies could be like this!  He’s got a laid-back kind of independence. He likes to watch, observe, and be on his own a little more.  The smiles he gives us are so heart-melting.  He’s such a pleasure to be with- he makes being a parent a complete joy and oh so rewarding.  Those blue eyes just dance (we are crossing our fingers that he gets to keep them!) and his sweet voice coos with delight.

Reed dominates with his charming and (loud) out-going personality.   He’s entertaining to watch and play with so yes, Bryce has to be able to compete!  I’m sure glad he chose this route, it will definitely get him far! 

The one about surprise babies and stretch marks

When people ask me if Bryce was a “surprise” I initially get defensive and say no, he was just a bit earlier than we planned.  I wonder if this sounds as ridiculous to the listener as it does to me when I put it on paper.  I mean, how is that not the same thing? 

I say no because I don’t want Bryce to ever think that we didn’t want him.  There is such a negative connotation to the description of “surprise” when applied to a baby or pregnancy.  As a child, along with my friends, we would make fun of kids who were said to be an accident, or a surprise.  And you better believe I had full bragging rights- being the only one of my mom’s kids who was planned.

Speaking of bragging, I was had been so proud and grateful that I didn’t get any stretch marks from my pregnancy with Reed.  I have always feared them… more than feared.  Dreaded and despised them.   I didn’t want to watch my skin tear apart and leave angry jagged lines that would scar me forever.  I knew that if I didn’t get any stretch marks then I would be able to lose the pregnancy weight and get just as fit as before so that no one would ever be able to tell I had kids.  Every magazine cover displaying some celebrity mom in a bikini claiming to have the secret convinced me it was possible.  My abs have always been my most favorite feature of my body- hands down.  Even after I lost the weight, it took me until Reed was 6 months old, almost to the day, to get into my old jeans because my hips were still coming back together.  But it still wasn’t the same.  The skin isn’t as taut and my belly button looks like it just came home from partying all night.

Then there was my pregnancy with Bryce, I was a few pounds shy of my previous max pregnancy weight, but definitely not in as good of shape.  Less toned and all around less fit from not working out every single day of my pregnancy.  Let’s face it- I was a lot more tired from keeping up with a toddler and making sure he was getting everything he needed.   

Mike was supposed to be my “Stretch Mark Lookout” since I couldn’t see the lower half of my belly.  I wondered sometimes if he would have said anything if he did spot one.  Would he keep it secret from me for fear of unleashing a torrent of wailing complaints?  Nearly two months passed after Bryce was born before I saw it.  A small slanted brown line, about an inch and a half in length on the left side of the lower part of my belly.  I smiled.  I placed my hand on it, I rubbed my finger over it, I pulled at it and poked it while I stared down at it.  I stood straight up and looked at it in the mirror.  I wanted to see it as others would see it.  I couldn’t pull my eyes away from it- I wanted to snuggle it and love it. 

Much to my astonishment, I didn’t hate it. I wasn’t disappointed and I didn’t want to cry.  All the reactions I expected – just didn’t happen.   Of course, I was looking at a tiny little thing- hidden for so long because it blends into the indentations my clothes leave on my skin anyway.  In no way did it resemble the claw mark of a beast.  So, I am still grateful, believe me.  It’s my trophy.  It’s like a tattoo that I got to remember a wonderful vacation.  

I love my babies- I don't even think of my body the same way anymore.  And I know how incredibly cheesy this all sounds.  Before I was a mom, I thought it was all excuses and defenses when women proclaimed their love for their post baby bodies.   An excuse for why they never got back into shape.  Now I see something different. I relate to the changes in the way you look at yourself, how you can learn to love yourself again and accept the differences. 

But I will get back into shape.  I will wear a bikini on the beach again.  There will be no exceptions. 

The one about strong & smart

Reed is so smart and so strong!

At his 18 month appointment we told his pediatrician about all the milestones and abilities of our toddler. He was so impressed that he half joked that he should be asking the 3 year old appointment questions!!

Reed has so many words now, that there's no point in trying to count. Plus, he will learn a new one any chance you give him. I just have to tell him what it is and ask him to repeat it back.  The next day, I can ask him again and he'll remember it. He can identify all 26 letters of the alphabet, you can point to words on signs, t-shirts, books... he knows all the capital letters.  He has an alphabet puzzle that he started working on at 16 months.  He knows that saying "please" will guarantee that he'll get what he wants, and takes advantage of that all the time.  His ability to learn just blows me away.  Anything we want to teach him, or anything he wants to teach himself.  At church last week, he methodically removed the pens from the holes in the wooden pews and re-inserted them over and over and over. When he started it was hard to make the target, because he was holding the pen at the very end- then he got better and better. 

When it was mastered, he moved on. Watching him play with his race track is the same thing. He focuses so hard that it seems our house could come falling down around him and he would probably move the bricks away so he could continue dropping cars down the ramps. That is some impressive concentration. He must have got it from his dad, because I can only get in that zone when I'm painting :o)

His strength is another thing to applaud.  He watched his dad do pull ups a couple of months ago and insisted to be given the opportunity to try the same thing.  Reed started hanging from the pull up bar and was able to hang longer and longer. Now he grabs onto the beams at the playground and even lifts his legs and swings himself back and forth. He cracks himself up!

I can't say he's lacking in any area. Verbally he's brilliant. Intellectually he’s a genius. Physically he's Hercules. Socially he’s charming and suave. Emotionally he’s compassionate and aware.

Not only is his ability to learn impressive, but his desire to do so is sensational. 

  

So far, Bryce is on the same track.  Mike and I are so involved with our boys, Reed’s teacher told us to keep “doing what we’re doing” and his pediatrician said “continue doing whatever it is you’re doing, because it’s working”.  I don’t really see how people could not do what we’re doing. I don’t feel like its work. I don’t feel like I’m sacrificing anything that I’d rather be doing, to spend time reading books to Reed and singing songs to Bryce.  I don’t feel like it’s a “daily grind” while my children are learning and soaking it all up.  Its fun and I enjoy spending time with my babies.  I enjoy being away from them, too! Don’t get me wrong. That’s why I love being part time. I think it makes the time that I spend with them a much better quality time. The challenge is to stay ahead of Reed and not let his learning stall. To keep pushing that gas pedal and throw new things at him every day. The applause is what keeps him going. He loves to please!

Bryce is easy to get a smile out of. Sometimes he'll just be sitting there by himself smiling at nothing- I'd like to take credit for it, but sometimes it's just not in response to anything I did!  But if I do want to make him smile, I just tap his nose or his cheeks.  His eyes light up and his grin widens into a joyous smile!

He's starting to sleep better, he still wants a bottle every 3 hours, but sometimes he'll sleep for 3 to 4 hours. He is in the office next to our room for now. We want to wait until he starts sleeping through the night before we move him in with Reed. 

I can't complain much. Mike's been helping me out in a big way, staying up later when Bryce won't fall asleep when we're ready and letting me go to bed early.  He also takes one of the night wakes, we divide them into First Shift and Second Shift.  Plus, he's the one who gets up in the mornings when the boys are ready to start the day. Sometimes that's 5am. I love him for knowing how much I love my sleep and giving me extra time in bed here and there.  We both know that he functions a lot better on lack of sleep than I do.  I did it for a while, but I don't have the endurance to keep going.  Things begin to fall apart.  My memory, then my patience, followed by my logic and my coordination. 

The one about copy-cat & Bryce starting MDO

Reed does the funniest things.  Yesterday I took him to the playground down the street (Bryce was asleep in the stroller) and he was just so happy and having so much fun playing.  He has a couple of tasks he must complete while at the playground these days.  The first is the pinecone journey.  I’m not even sure how to spell his word for pinecone. It’s sort of like “by-bow”.

Step 1. Find two pinecones

Step 2.  Climb up the ramp with both pinecones. (Sometimes when he’s getting clumsy, he’ll let me take them and place them at the top so he won’t fall)

Step 3.  Climb the step to the top level and throw both pinecones down the spiral tunnel slide.

Step 4. Turn around and ask, “Go?” (short for “where did they go?”

Step 5.  Slide down the straight slide

Step 6.  Retrieve pinecones.

Step 7.  Start over.

We can get through ten or more rounds of this before he starts adding variations or finds something new to do. Up next? The hill.

There’s a couple of small sloping “hills” surrounding the playground. Reed loves to run down them. There is a thrill in it that is purely adventurous to a toddler. First he trudges up the hill, while I narrate. “Uuuup the hill!” I draw out, while he grins on his way up.  “Stop.  Turn around,” I instruct.  “Down the hill!” I chime as he throws his feet, one in front of the other- his little body bouncing and bumbling down the hill.  His hand flapping in front of his bent arms. He squeals in delight as he turns around to trudge back up the hill and do it again.  If he falls, he hops up and brushes his hands together saying, “dirty” or “oh no!”

He also likes to copy me.  He looked so handsome standing in the grass in his brown shirt and blue jeans with the trees as a back drop, so I got on my knees to take a picture.  He smiled and got on his knees, too.  The look on his face was expectant, like- Okay mom, now that we’re down here, what are we going to do?  I laughed at his imitation of me and then he started fake laughing, too! I guess that completed his impression.  

A couple of days ago, he copied me as I was sneezing- I felt it coming and I bent at the knees and waist in anticipation. He smiled so big, watching me, and copied my posture. Then I sneezed and he said, “CHOO!”  Mike and I were both cracking up!

Bryce had his first day of school a week ago (last Monday, when I went back to work). He was 8 weeks old that day.  I was ready, and I think he was, too. He’s pretty laid back most of the time and it’s not hard to make him happy or comfortable.  I dropped them off at Mother’s Day Out and for the first hour, Reed and Bryce are in the same room, for early care.  They said Reed was pretty happy about Bryce still being there and kept going over to check on him.  However, when Bryce’s teacher came to get him at 9:30 and take him to his own class, Reed lost it! He screamed “BICE! BICE!” for 20 minutes, he cried for his brother! Reed almost had his teachers in tears, they were so sad for him!  They took Reed down the hall to explain to him that Bryce was safe and happy in his own class room.  

Bryce in the Moby carrier at the airport

The next school day, they let Reed “take” Bryce to his class and he seemed to be much happier with that arrangement.  It was only when they were changing Bryce’s diaper (he’s in the adjoining room) and Reed could hear him crying, that Reed started to worry and cry for Bryce again.  They had to lift him up to look through the window and show him that Bryce was okay.  He’s breaking all their hearts with his concern for his brother! Such a sweet little man! 

The one about a mother's hands

I have my mom’s hands.  They are identical to hers when she was around my age.  If I held them up to hers now, of course you would see the differences, but when I look at my hands, I see my mom’s hands. I don’t know when it hit me the first time, but I think of it so much more often now that I have kids.  It comes from the way I touch my babies. I lay my palm on Bryce’s cheek and run my thumb back and forth over his eyebrow.  When Reed’s hands are cold I put them inside both of mine to warm them up.  To make Bryce smile I tap my finger on his nose.  When I’m holding Reed in a hug I put my fingers in his hair or when I look at his face I’m constantly running my fingertips through his hair to sweep it to the side.

This sometimes gives me a feeling of nostalgia and makes me miss my mom and the way she touches me. The way she warms my hands in hers, the way she arranges my hair when it’s gone awry. The way she runs her thumb over my knuckles when she holds my hand in church.  Sometimes leads to the rope fraying and I begin to miss my mom and the way she mothers me.  The way she’s always on my side when I’m upset and venting to her.  The way she finds the simplest things I do or say side-splintering-hilarious. The way she sky rockets my self-confidence with her praise and encouragement, be it about my art, my writing, my grades, my singing, or my ideas.  The way she involves herself as much as possible to make me feel special.  
She shows genuine excitement, like when she came to watch me race in the RedMan Triathlon. She displays sincere interest, like when she would take off from work in the middle of the day to see me when my sophomore drama class was performing short plays at the elementary school.

Yes, I have my mom’s hands. I watched the way they changed from the hands of a daughter to the hands of a wife and now the hands of a mommy. They are gentle, animated, and protective.  The hands don’t make the mother, but I hope I learned enough from my mom to be a great one.