Please Don't Report Me

Ian, Joseph and I are sick. Really sick.

Ian was the first to exhibit symptoms including high fever, terrible cough, "productive" sneezing, and a general overflow of mucus. Joseph and I joined Ian several days later. Scott employed positive thinking to avoid this one.

Yesterday I decided a little fresh air may do our bodies some good. Since Joseph was asleep upstairs, we postponed a walk around the neighborhood and Ian and I just went for a stroll in the backyard. I decided my poor satsuma tree needed some moisture, so we came back in to fill a water pitcher.

While the water was running, I heard Joseph coughing, then chocking over the baby monitor. I put Ian down and dashed upstairs. When I got there, Joseph was breathing just fine, so I set about giving him his acid reflux medicine and soothing him back to sleep.

Usually when I leave Ian behind, he protests, demands to know where I am going, and throws a tantrum/hits the blinds/throws things at the satellite box until I return. But as I soothed Joseph, I didn't hear any of this going on downstairs. I smiled to myself and thought it wonderful that Ian was concerned with his brothers safety and was so patiently awaiting my return.

When I did return, about 10 minutes later, Ian was no where to be found. (Cue panicking mother) I looked first to see if I had left the back door open. It was shut tightly. Then I searched in all the usual and unusual hiding places, but found nothing. And then finally, I spotted Ian out the window in the back yard. I guess I had left the back door open, and he had just been nice enough to shut it behind him.

Despite the fact that he was barefoot and strolling among fire-ant landmines, he was perfectly safe. Since Joseph was now crying upstairs, I decided we would take a walk around the block afterall. So I put Joseph in the baby carrier and Ian in his stroller and we set out. Wanting to travel light, we left through the garage and used the code to shut the garage behind us, instead of bringing my keys.

Turns out the boys hated my fresh-air idea, and both cried from the moment we left. Ian wanted his bunny. Joseph hates his baby carrier. Both were hungry and tired. And sick. So I shortened our route and tried to cross a street by driving the stroller off a curb, instead of waiting to encounter a ramp. It was a high curb, but I was still surprised at how long it was taking for the front stroller wheels to hit the street. Ian was still crying. I finally look down and saw that I hadn't locked the stroller into the open position -- it had folded up with Ian's chest pressed to his thighs. So sorry, Ian.

I locked the stroller into the open position, and we proceeded immiediatly home. Both boys were still crying. This walk was such a bad idea.

When we arrived home, I parked the stroller beside me and attempted to open the garage door. The code just wasn't working. I entered the code over and over again. Ian stops crying and starts chanting "Try again! Try again!" So I tried again. Again and again and again.

Finally, my little coach gives up and starts saying "Uh-oh! Uh-oh! Uh-oh!" Eventually I notice that his little voice is getting quieter and quieter.... the stroller that was just beside me was now rolling backwards down the driveway! I ran after him and reached him just as the stroller jolted to a stop in the street. Ian looked nervous, but thankfully was perfectly fine.

I rolled Ian back up the driveway, and now instead of feeling frustrated, I kissed his little blond head and felt thankful a car hadn't come by at just the wrong moment. I tried the code 8 more times, and then finally called a friend to come rescue us. As soon as I dialed her number, the garage door magically lifted open.

We unloaded our weary, sick selves into the house. Ian got his bunny and then went to find his beloved "Dingle Bells", which I'd hung over the front door knob. They were "stuck" and he yanked on them 'til the string split. Dingle Bells and beads showered the front hallway. Now I stay awake at night wondering what hidden corners those little chocking hazards were flung to.

Sigh.

Christmas Season is Here!

We had a great Thanksgiving. Scott made a delicious turkey and baked an incredible apple pie -- including a crust made from scratch! We had a fun evening celebrating with two great families, and have been enjoying leftovers for the last several days.

The day after Thanksgiving, Scott climbed up into the attic and got down all our Christmas stuff! This year I could hardly wait 'til after Thanksgiving to set it all up. The boys and I have been listening to Christmas music for the last 3 weeks...

Even though we were sweating in the 80 degree weather while we assembled our tree, it still feels like the Christmas season is here!

Ian loves the carol-playing moose from my childhood. When my sister finds out this moose now lives at my house, I bet she will be a little jealous...

Ian found a strand of bells and enthusiastically shouted "Dingle Bell! Dingle Bell!" The singing leader in nursery brings similar bells for the kids and Ian was eager to show us what he had been learning. But by this point, Ian was tired of all the pictures I was taking. So he took his bells and went to hide in the corner.

Our tree-topper is a pair of doves that adorned a present we received at our wedding.

Ian

Here is some of what Ian has been up to lately. During these activities, Joseph was most likely to have been sleeping. Or eating.

Drinking Orange Julius. Scott has made this a Saturday morning tradition. Ian calls it "yummy drink".

Good to the last drop.

Finding and then kicking back with "Daddy's buttons". They are forbidden, and therefore he loves them.

Rearranging the furniture, hiding cars under the cushions, and then taking a nap with "Da bunny an' da binkie"

Growing another mullet.Haircut number 2. He did not remain calm during this procedure. Helping Daddy with the dishes, i.e. banging a whisk on the sink. Check out the new haircut.

Nursery

Here is Ian on his first day of nursery

Ian is now old enough to begin nursery at our church, which means that now we only have to wrestle to keep him calm and quiet for the first meeting, and then he gets to go off to learn about Jesus and play and eat snacks for the remaining two hours with a bunch of other kids his age. Scott and I have spent the last 9 months of church pacing the halls with Ian, dreaming of the day when Ian would begin nursery. And yet, like some other anticipated milestones I can think of, this transition was heart wrenching for me.

After all, Ian and I have spent very little of his 19.5 months apart. I have been the primary overseer of his learning and growth. And I like it that way. It is hard for me to know that when he goes to nursery, there is a part of his life that I will know so little about. His teachers (who I hear are wonderful) will teach him things. He'll play with other kids (and sometimes they might be mean to him!) and I won't be there to watch. He has only been there once, and he has already come home singing songs that someone else taught him. My baby is growing up. From this point onward, I will have less and less control and influence in his life. His world will continue to expand. It hasn't helped that I have had nightmares of going to pick Ian up from nursery, only to discover that the nursery leaders let some kidnapper pick Ian up after nursery. I know this nursery thing is far more dramatic for me than for many mothers. But tell me... am I the only one who felt this way?

As I sat at home with Joseph while Ian and Scott were at church last Sunday, I actually found myself watching the clock, thinking... "Okay, it's 3:13. Sacrament meeting is over and now they are walking to nursery." "Now it's 3:50. Ian is totally in nursery." "It's 5:05, Scott is probably going to pick him up right now!" Thankfully, Scott knows and loves me, and called at 5:10 pm on his way home from church to report that Ian loved nursery and was coming home safe and sound.

Don't get me wrong -- nursery is going to be great for me. I am thrilled to be going to Sunday School and Relief Society tomorrow, knowing that I will be able to stay more than the first 4 minutes. (Of course, the countdown begins for Joseph to become the squirmer/screamer who we pace the halls with.)

And I am relieved that Ian has taken to nursery quite readily. He actually could have started going to nursery almost two months ago, but between the hurricane, Stake and General Conference, and a new baby in the family, we just haven't been to church much. So there wasn't any easing Ian into nursery like I had expected. And I'd been prepared for Ian to have a hard time with the adjustment, too. But Scott tells me Ian was eager to play from the beginning, and after changing Ian's diaper and bringing him back to nursery, Ian just marched right back in and didn't look back. This kid was supposed to be going through separation anxiety. But apparently nursery is cool enough to make a kid forget his parents.

Hopefully I will be able to drop Ian off at nursery tomorrow and not linger by the door for the next 2 hours. Heaven help me when Ian starts all-day Kindergarten.