Sam's Second 2nd B-D Party

Thanksgiving 2011

The only thing this doesn't incude is the barfing.  Which is still going on.  Day 5.  Not me.  The other people who live here.  And not one of them has EVER made it to a toilet. 

Still, we're thankful.

To my sweet 2nd child on his 2nd birthday.

I two!

Happy 2 Bam-Bam!

I’m so excited that it’s your birthday because I needed an excuse to sit down and really celebrate YOU.One gets so overwhelmed what with all the parenting, cooking/cleaning, and full-time jobbing, that one often overlooks the most important things in life.And you are exactly that, my sweet.

1 day old

It was more than appropriate that you were born at Thanksgiving. Of course every parent is thankful for their children, but there is something about the “baby” that we all relish in a different way. The dessert of our family. The little red caboose. The happy ending.



Except of course, that you never were an END to anything. You were the beginning of a lot though. The beginning of more than I could ever imagine.



1 year old

The second child defies the laws of mathematics. The second child proves why numbers cannot explain everything (or, for some of us, anything). We went from 3 to 4 (25% total increase). From 1 child to 2 (50% kid increase). But we also went from 0 to 60. From play to fast forward. The laundry somehow quadrupled. The messes duplicated themselves like fecund viruses. Not that I’m likening you to a virus or a bajillion loads of laundry. You are much more enjoyable, of course. If only I could isolate you, reduce you to an easy fraction, solve the equation of how you can – at the same time -- completeour family and also transform it into a very complex algebraic expression.

One of the things I like most about you, Bammy, is that you have all the right amounts of things a parent might want in a 2 year old: Zero seizures (since March!), not that many tantrums (so far), a few bad habits (throwing hot wheels and kicking), plenty of sincere apologies (“I all done”), immeasurable hugs & kisses (which actually make a smooch noise now!), and infinite sweetness.

But what I love about you most is your commentary on life, which at this point is about 97% successful. One of my favorites is your simple rendition of “NO,” always emitted at a much lower pitch than your normal voice.

Another good one is, “No, Jah-Jah!” which, this morning was paired with the causative statement, “Mama night-night.” A

And we all get a kick out of your usage of the possessive pronoun “my” in place of the subject one, “I.” As in “My ewww” (I pooped), or “My dur-dur”(I’m dirty), or “My balls” (I have a diaper rash) – many thanks to your big brother Jah-Jah for that last one.

I also love these phrases:

· “Mone!” (Follow me! C’mon!)

· “Out-hide!” (I’d like permission to exit the kitchen and play on the back porch.)

· “Ooosh OFFF!” (Please remove my shoes.)

· “Ice.” (This one’s tricky; I’ve seen it mean “There’s a cooler that might have juice boxes” or “I want ice in my cup” or “the sun’s in my eyes.”)

· “Aulk!” (Let’s take the stroller out for a jog.”)

· “Nie-nie -- ewwww.” (My blanket smells bad.)

· “Kuck!!!”(There's a truck!”)

· “Usss! Usss! Elloooww!” (A school bus!)

· “I all done!” (Please do not put me in time out as I’m truly sorry and promise not to do it again.”)

· “Hi, Mama!” (I’ve climbed on top of the table and used a marker to color a placemat purple.)

But the best of all, no contest, is:

“Hode you, Mama.”

It's enhanced by the arms-held-high lean against my leg.

Some of your favorite foods are CHEEEEEEZ, ‘NACK (goldfish), and DIP-DIP (applesauce with graham crackers as a spoon).You also like NANAs (bananas) and CHEEEEEEZ.Did I mention CHEEEEEEEZ?But NOT the jalapeno kind (“My HOT!!!”).

You’re obsessed with Thomas the Train, Lightning McQueen, and now Simba. And your love of tractors, which is serious, but doesn’t quite surpass that of your brother when he was your age, has encouraged you to develop a new onomatopoeia for the English language. It’s not graphically plausible for me to put letters together to make the sound that you do, but it’s a combination of the sound a tractor makes (brrrm brrrm) and the word “tractor” itself. It’s simply amazing. And brilliant. And so true and real that even John Deere himself would approve.

Bammy, you are everything I dreamed for my little boy Sam. I always wanted a Sam, and I got an unfair amount of it: YOU. When I think of how lucky we are to have you, I feel that life is truly NOT reasonable: Sometimes, we get more than we deserve.

XOXOX,

Mama

11-23-09

Sam I Am

To Sam from his 92-year old great grandmother, who sewed this completely by hand.

He turns 2 on Wednesday.

Bammy's 2nd

We celebrated The Bam's 2nd birthday this weekend with Nanny, Grampy, Millie, Annie, Molly, Baba, Elijah, & Hannah.  Macy & Grandaddy couldn't make it (and besides we will see them in a few days for Turkey), but otherwise I think those are all his absolute favorite people. 

The Janeious made her usual, amazing cake structure, which as you can see is a 3-car train pulled by an engine with a smoke stack and some licorice tracks and oreo wheels.  Easy, of course.  I could've done it myself, but I was too busy reading my novel and throwing up.

Other than my 12-hour stomach bug though, it was a great weekend, and a nice kickoff to the upcoming holiday.  Which, of course, will always -- since 2009 -- remind me of my sweet Sam.

gRAND mASTER fLASH

This one just got placed into ENCORE (his school's gifted program).  Indeed.

Pie Contest

Tonight there was a pie contest at John's school.  In order to enter the contest, you had to pay a $5 entry fee and take two pies.  Brian baked them (pumpkin, of course), but last night as we were preparing for this event, it occurred to us that we could just show up, not pay (or bake), and still eat pie. 

We are stupid.

Brian had his first basketball game tonight (he is coaching the girls' team), so I took the pies and the boys for this event.  All was going well until the showing of Charlie Brown's Thanksgiving Special.  At the exact moment when the introductory music stops and the characters are preparing to speak, an emergency evacuation was necessary due to the toddler melt-down over a tether ball that was simply not holdable no matter how nicely you ask and beg and plead and throw down.  Because it was tethered.  It was tethered because it's a tether ball.  Ahem.

We hate tether balls.

Why is it that when these things are happening, everyone else's kids are quietly munching popcorn and sitting with their legs crossed on nap mats, watching the movie while their parents mingle and sip coffee and eat pie and I tear at my hair and stumble awkwardly out of the building holding a screaming toddler and yelling over my shoulder to the other one that he better follow me because I.CANNOT.TAKE.ANYMORE.OF.THIS.

Yes, this one.  This angel.
And then on my way out the door, I announce loudly to the President of the PTO (who is my friend) that this is SO MUCH FUN that maybe we should do it all again tomorrow night and can she please pick up my 2nd pie tray because I have my hands full?

Yes, she says.  And then clarifies: To the pie tin retrieval, not the repeating of this event.  Next she confessed to me that she wanted to slip some cinnamon whiskey in her coffee.


We made it home.

The End.

This little bit of sweetness

This week there is a book fair at John's school.  So, last night, I pulled out my wallet and took out several dollars and put them in a Ziploc bag marked "BOOK FAIR."  It wasn't much, but it was all the cash I had.  He said thanks, stuck it in his backpack, and then we all sacked out before 8 p.m., which is how it goes at our house these days.  

This morning, at 6 a.m., I opened my eyes, and there stood John-John, beside my bed with with two dollars in his hand.  

"Mom, thanks so much for giving me the book fair money.  But I don't want you to have nothing in your wallet, so I dug these dollars out of my GIVING jar for you."

"You don't have to do that, sweet.  I don't need cash for anything today, so I'll be alright."  

"No, I want you to have this money, Mom.  You never know."

Then he socked me in the arm and left.

I'm at work now.  Just finished teaching two classes.  I'm hungry, but I somehow managed to pack an EMPTY lunchbox for myself.  So, I just took my $2 to the snack machine and got -- in honor of him -- some cheesy crackers and a Sprite.  

Moments like these make all the WHAT-IS-WRONG-WITH-YOU-STOP-PLAYING-THAT-KAZOO-AND-SPITTING-ON-YOUR-BROTHER moments worthwhile.  

Watching, Looking, Whatever

When the kids look at the TV (which is the verb my grandmother always used), I often look at them.  I notice how they drool and fold their feet just so.  I like the folded feet more than the drool.

And sometimes, when there have been too many activities in a Saturday, there is obvious exhaustion.  In this last picture, I love how John-John is nearly comatose while Sam tries to hog the heater.  It's cold.

But we've warm hearts.

Happy fall, y'all.

It is my favorite time of year. I love the colors. They all look good on me.

But man. It's turning cold, and it gets dark at 5 p.m., and lately I've been thinking about anti-depressants, I must admit.

Because the children are growing up, and instead of blogging about it (or even writing it down to blog about later), I'm going to bed early so that I can arise and face the next day of it all. I want to document everything about The Bam, just like I did for John-John. But.

If anybody has any great ideas about how to manage it all, please email me. Especially if your ideas involve a maid or fast food.

While I cooked dinner...

Fire Truck Song

Recently we discovered that Sam can sing all the "long O" parts of the Fire Truck song.  Here's how it goes in the car, on repeat:

Happy Halloween 2011