1103

That how many days Henry made it on this earth without throwing an inconsolable tantrum. Today was day 1104. And you want to know what it was about? A fucking lollipop. I knew I should have kept sugar away from him until he was at least 10.

looks like we've got retirement covered

This morning we were waiting for a cleaning person to come over (the mid-western, Lutheran guilt in my genes about not being able to keep my own house spotless could be the subject of at least another post if not an entire blog) and I was picking up toys and trying to get Henry out of his crappy mood. This cleaning person, Olivia, is new to us so I was telling him how nice she is and how she will help us get our house clean. He helped pick up a few toys as well. Olivia then called to tell me she was running late on account of little sleep caused by a toothache. Henry asked who was on the phone and I recounted the conversation to him. A few minutes later he said, “I’m going to help Olivia.” he paused long enough for me to figure that he meant he was going to pick up some more as he is sort of into that already. He then continued, “I am going to fix her tooth. I do a real good job.” I laughed out loud as he concluded, “yeah, but she might say no.” Later when she got here he told her that he was sorry her tooth hurt and when she started talking about how expensive it would be to see the dentist again he suggested $5 would be a good price and that he could help.

making bedtime a joy

Tonight, in the course of putting Henry to bed, he requested/whined/demanded in the following order:

“I can have a snack.” 87 times
“I want a snack.” 93 times
“I want cough syrup.” and the close cousin, “I need syrup for my cough.” Maple, perhaps would have worked? 62 times
“I want pee (or “pee pee” thrown in for variety) candy.” 165 times (many of which were on the verge of a crying meltdown)

The number of requests is approximated but I am not exaggerating. If I were exaggerating I would have said he repeated the last one at least 4,000 times. Because that’s what it felt like.

In addition, he just rolled over (having been asleep for a little over an hour) and moaned, “I can have it” 5 times before falling back asleep. Even in his sleep, he is nothing if not persistent.

hello, three!

I am continuing my tradition of writing a little note to Henry every night on his birthday. Here it is with the past two years following.

7/13/07
Goodbye, two. Hello, three! Today is your birthday and once again I just got out of the rocking chair with you on my lap. Only this year you walked to your big boy bed by yourself and then asked for three cups of water, two of them hot. I have your dad’s recent accidental delivery of warm tap water to thank for that new little quirk. In fact, now you are yelling at me for the fourth time to get you more hot water and wanted to show me the “birthday circle” you just made out of your new fire hose toy. You had a great birthday today, spending time with both sets of grandparents. You were gracious and sweet, thanking your daddy and me after we sang happy birthday to you first thing this morning. You told everyone how you are three and kept telling me how excited you were that today was your birthday and that you loved your presents. You also told both your grandma and me that we were beautiful at different times today. In short, you are still a charming little, (no. sorry. big that is.) boy. This has been a bit of a tough year with the words “no” and “now” leaving your mouth at high volumes more frequently than I would like but I am learning to be more patient and you are learning to be more patient and we are learning to live together and communicate better every day. Really, we are. You are making me a better, stronger kinder person and you make me smile and laugh every day. You are a great big brother and the best son I could ever ask for in all of the world. Happy birthday, sweet boy!

(You just convinced me to "baby rock" you one more time (I could hardly deny you on your birthday) and your little sighs and heavy little blonde head on my arm brought tears to my eyes once again.)

7/13/06
I just put you in bed, my big, wriggling, kicking, chatting, laughing, smiling boy. You still like to rock in my lap and ask to “baby rock” before bed most nights. Tonight we read a book about bunnies in love twice and then I sang your bedtime songs to you before I put you happily in your crib. I am sure that you are the only one in this world who will ever ask me to sing and I will be sad when you finally realize how off-key I am and don’t ask anymore. But I will also understand! I had intended to head straight for my computer to write you a note but I got a phone call and had to do some last minute work for a couple of hours first. That’s how our lives have been lately. Incredibly busy with most minutes of the day packed with activity. You are learning and growing and changing so fast I am constantly reminding myself to stop and breathe and take time to enjoy life with you. I put off the crazy work issues when I’m with you as much as I can and always try to focus on what’s most important in my life first, and that is you. Thank you for reminding me of that everyday. Happy birthday, Henry.

7/12/05
A year ago this hour I had just started to go into active labor. Tonight you had a tough time falling asleep so I rocked you in my arms and you fell asleep looking into my eyes. I cried and cried thinking about what an amazing year it has been and how every tough moment has been worth it. A year ago this house and our lives were focused on two people now we are three. I can’t imagine it any other way.

12 weeks old

Dear Mia,
Today you are 12 weeks old. We are in the middle of an intense electrical storm, something that happens rarely in Portland and I feel like writing a mushy, cheesy, silly letter professing my love for you. There are big bolts of lightening flashing and I can hardly believe that 12 weeks have past since you were born. I am so proud of our whole family. We have changed our lives completely and adapted and adjusted to new schedules and we are still holding things together (even if I have to keep reminding myself of that last part every day). But we are happy to do it, so happy to do it for you. I can hardly believe how much I love you already. You are such a strong, calm, sweet, goofy presence in our days. You are a little fussy now but we are used to it and we try to just do whatever you need to be comforted, knowing that it will pass soon and you will sweetly fall asleep on one of our bodies and wake up in the morning with grunts and snorts and coos (you are a very loud baby) and sleepy smiles. I can’t believe how much you are growing and changing in front of our eyes. I can hardly wait for each day that I get to know you better and love you more. I warned you I was feeling mushy.

high tech

Henry is sitting at Jason’s desk next to me and I keep suggesting that we do something (specific) different. And he says, “no. I am reading my email.” Sort of cute, right? Or, maybe not. But, the thing that’s funny is that he’s writing on a little note pad when he says it, not even looking at the computer. When I asked him what his email said, he replied, “point one eight,” which actually beats any of the email I have received today.

in the blink of an eye

No, for once this is not a post about how quickly kids grow up. Speaking of which, have I mentioned that my 2 month old weighs as much as an average 6 month old? No? Crazy.

Getting to the point, I am having a super crappy day. It is Jason’s birthday so I let him sleep in and got up early with the sick older kid and sleepless younger one. Now the kids are miraculously both sleeping at once and I should be too but I am too bummed out and generally angst and sad to do so. I took Henry to the grocery store this morning, which was insanely crowded and crazy. We made it out ok but as we were leaving I backed into a car in the parking lot. I was looking straight behind me and saw nothing. I am pretty convinced that he was trying to sneak by in the busy parking lot while my car was at least half way out of its space. There was a lot of scraped paint and my bumper has a very tiny little ripple in it but I know the cost is going to be huge. Everything was totally calm and civilized. Neither of us really admitted to being at fault, and while I don’t think I was, I just don’t know. Deep down I really don’t think I was but I suppose it is up to the insurance assessors to determine. I have been compulsively googling links about how insurance companies determine whether or not to raise rates after an accident. Everything with the other driver was totally civilized and calm and we exchanged information and each said we hoped the other one had a good day. It all happened so fast and the lot was so crowded I didn’t think to take a picture of his car with my phone or even get the model/make of the car (I only saw the side of it).

So then I started to feel paranoid about all of the ways things could go bad for me in this until I googled the driver. Apparently I ran into a trial attorney. Uh, great. He is actually a trial lawyer for childhood victims of sexual abuse (mostly by priests) and I think he has a column in the local paper on occasion. Fuck. Actually, it is probably a good thing. He was a nice guy and I seriously doubt there will be any issues of insurance fraud. I just am not up for fighting and bureaucracy and arguing tooth and nail that I am not at fault when I simply can’t be certain. I wish that the situation didn’t make me feel like I had to choose between being a decent human being and getting screwed by a shitty system. Most likely we will be out at least the $500 deductible anyway. This is such bad timing emotionally and financially I can hardly believe it. It’s just insane how a split-second can change your whole day and likely much more. I know that I can’t do anything more today and I need to buck up for Jason’s sake on his birthday (and a day off for all of us no less!) but for some reason this little thing really has me down and I don’t know how to get back up.

lunch

As I was just laying in bed with a sick, sleeping (finally) kid and a grumpy not sleeping baby, wishing she would fall asleep so I could do so myself, I had a daydream about something I didn’t even know how much I missed. Lunch. Or more specifically, lunch out, preferably with good company. Actually, it would not be inaccurate to say that I simply miss eating in the middle of the day while not standing and holding a small person. It has been years since I worked in an office (at all consistently) with people whom I consider friends. At both of my downtown, professional jobs things were often hectic and at the architecture firm I sometimes worked long hours and knew far too much about the crazy inner workings of the owner’s minds. But there was pretty much always that hour or half hour in the middle of they day when we would step away from it all and eat a burrito or middle eastern food or sushi or a sandwich from the ironic hipster café. Sometimes we bitched about work (probably a lot of the time) and sometimes we just chatted about whatever. Even just taking a short walk to the row of food carts behind our building and eating at my desk while screwing around on the internet was somewhat of an event. These days, when I am juggling kids all day and fitting in work (that I don’t want to be doing yet) and groceries and meals and cleaning, just having a break in the middle of the day sounds like such a luxury, let alone a break with good food and friends. I promise that if I’m ever afforded such a simple luxury again I will not take it for granted.

In only topically related news, I took both kids out for lunch a few weeks ago. To a sit down restaurant. By myself. It was not relaxing one bit but the food was good and I felt like super woman.