Milestones

I haven't been keeping my blog the most up-dated, so here are a few milestones that the boys have reached in the past few months:

Sam

Sam is finally potty trained. I tried all sorts of methods (we read books, picked out cool big boy underwear,went all day for days with no clothes, did sticker charts, reward charts, gummy bears bribes, and much more), but I had finally resigned myself to the fact that he just wasn't ready. Then my good friend, Heidi, gave us a bin of toys for boys (some cars, jets, etc.) She had received the toys but has all girls. So as a last hope, I put all of the toys in a big, clear bag and told Sam it was the potty bag. Every time he went potty in the big boy potty, he could reach into the bag and get a surprise. He started wearing big boy underwear that day, and has only had a few accidents in about five months. He doesn't even need pull-ups or anything at night. Potty training is a piece of cake...ha ha!

Sam can not only sing the alphabet song, but he also recognizes letters. I didn't realize how good he was at this until Nic and I were working on some word puzzles. Sam wanted to play, so I told him to find certain letters to spell out the words I needed. He was able to identify every letter. He can also spell his name. In fact, he likes to get on daddy's Iphone and the Ipad and type his name. At first, he had his letters mixed up a little, and we would get reminders of appointments with 'asm', but he has since remedied that problem and now we receive NUMEROUS reminders about SAM all day long. I feel like I'm in one of the those Mormon advertisements--"Family: Isn't it about time?" Sam makes sure that we remember to spend time with him every day! =)

I hate to admit it, but Sam is also a screen junkie. He can work the Ipad and Iphone without any problem. My dad just got an Ipad, and we like to joke that Sam can go show grandpa how to use his computer. He really could. The kid is very technologically smart. He has his favorite games that he likes to play, and one of his favorite things is browsing apps and picking out new ones that he wants to try. He always wants to know the password so that he can purchase new apps. Sorry, kid, that ain't going to happen! He also has his favorite shows, including: Diego, Dora, Pocoyo, Pingu, Eebee, Yo Gabba Gabba, and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. His two favorite movies right now are: Despicable Me and Rio. Some Disney movies are a little too intense for him still (he's a little sensitive to the scary parts like Ursula on The Little Mermaid). And whenever I start feeling a little guilty about how much screen time he has, he does something like acting out an entire scene while inserting himself as a character in the scene or counting to 8 in Spanish. He's learning new things constantly. And we do try to do non-screen things each day too.

He is full of curiosity and imagination. I love it! Sam is also quite the comedian. His two favorite jokes are:
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Because he was walking that way. (This is a Sam original).

Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Boo.
Boo who?
You don't have to cry. It's just me!

As for church, Sam graduated from the nursery in January and is now a Sunbeam. The transition has not been very smooth, however. Sam loved nursery (snacks, toys, and lots of attention, who wouldn't?) from day one and it has been very difficult to let go. He has fallen asleep in class a couple of times and one time he ran away yelling. (After hearing stories of how Nic ran away from school when he was little because he got a new teacher, I'm thinking it might be hereditary). But he seems to be doing a little better and seems to be enjoying class time.

Sam loves being a big brother, if not just for the torture factor. He and Mark are starting to get to the point where they play together for a little bit, and Sam loves helping to take care of Cole (or Baby Mo Mo, as he likes to call him). One of my greatest desires as a mother is that my boys will be best friends. We're working on it every day!

Mark

I didn't think it would ever happen, but in January, Mark finally decided to walk. Mark just never showed any interest in walking. He didn't even like to stand very much. After I had Cole, I couldn't really lift Mark very much at first, but I ended up doing it because the kid just wouldn't walk. And he would start getting really frustrated because he wanted to get somewhere but couldn't. Perhaps he was a little spoiled and got carried around too much, who knows. I kept asking his pediatrician and our Early Intervention specialist if it was a physical problem or had to do with his earlier issues, but it was just the fact that he needed to decide that he wanted to do it. Mark is definitely bull headed, and you don't tell him what to do. It has to be his decision. But once he started walking, he was running. He is constantly on the go now. And he is my little athlete. I think he has daddy's athleticism. He can throw really well, kick a ball, jump, and climb. Sometimes I worry a little because with his shunt he's not supposed to do contact sports, but he's my boy with the build and interest in football. We'll just have to cross that bridge when we get there.

Mark is definitely all boy. It's funny to see the similarities and differences between Mark and Sam. While Sam's cars like to talk to each other, Mark's cars drive. Mark loves to drive his cars all over the place (complete with the car sound effects). Mark loves dirt. We just got a sandbox a month ago, and Mark practically lives in the sandbox. He loves to be outside. Now that the weather is getting warmer, I don't hardly see the kid anymore. He goes outside in the morning and then I drag him back in for meals and bedtime. Mark's nickname is Bonk because he is such a physical boy. He is constantly bonking his head, hammering on something (or someone), or moving my furniture. That kid is crazy strong!

Just last month, Mark graduated from Early Intervention. Melinda, his specialist, did his bi-yearly evaluation and told us that there isn't anything more she can do for him. He is right on schedule for fine and gross motor skills. He is very smart and socially outgoing. You would never know all that he has been through. He's just a regular toddler. While I'm excited for this next step, I'm also really going to miss Melinda. I will post the letter I wrote to my legislators about the Early Intervention program later.

 The only thing that he is kind of lagging with is talking. He can say 'dada', 'momma', 'nan-nan', 'banana', 'gu-gu' (gus), and a few other little words, but that's about it. Lately, he's been making more effort to communicate, but still gets really frustrated when he can't communicate what he wants. He's also funny because, unlike most kids, he says, 'yeah' but not 'no'. If you ask him something and the answer is yes, he'll say, "yeah, yeah!" If the answer is no, he just won't answer you. I can remember a time when I thought 'no' was the only word in Sam's vocabulary! This next month we're going to start working with a speech therapist to help him communicate better. Melinda says that it might just be a defiance issue, and knowing Mark, she might be right.

Mark especially loves being the older brother to Cole. He loves to hug and tickle his little brother. He sometimes needs a little reminding to be gentle, but, for the most part, is super cute with his baby. And he loves all other babies too. He loves to play with babies and bring them toys. Mark has a big heart and likes to share toys and snacks with Cole and with other babies. I think Mark and Cole are going to be especially good friends.

Cole

I like the rhyme, "Old King Cole was a merry, old soul..." because it describes Cole perfectly. He is such a merry soul. He's so good natured and always smiling and laughing. You can say 'tickle' to him and he'll laugh. The only time he's not very happy is when he's hungry. That's a very serious time!

Cole is my rock n' roller. He rolls everywhere. He started rolling onto his tummy pretty early on and now you have to keep an eye on him. Within a minute, he can make it clear across the room. I call him my 'Rolley Cole-y." I wonder if he'll crawl a lot sooner than his brothers did. He is really good at lifting his upper body with his arms. And he wants to be running around with his brothers so badly.

Cole also got his first tooth when he was just six months old. He now has his two front bottom teeth. And that kid loves to eat. He would nurse all day if I let him and loves baby food. The other day we were at the park. I had Cole on my lap and was talking to one of the other boys, when I looked down and discovered that Cole had eaten half of his brother's peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I guess I'm going too slow in introducing solid foods. He's ready for the good stuff! At his six month appointment, he was in the 7th percentile for weight and our pediatrician recommended nursing him more to get more calories for him. Nic thinks Cole paid the doctor to say that, because he doesn't look scrawny by any means. But we've been working on eating more, much to Cole's happiness.

A Love for Books

I love books, and I love to see my boys love books. I hope that they will always have a love for reading. I like to watch Mark go to the bookshelf and look and look until he finds his favorite books. I like how Mark's favorite way to read is sitting on top of you. I like watching the boys' reactions to books--their smiles and laughs and excitement. I want to remember their first favorites, so I just thought I would write down the first books that captured their hearts (the books that we've read over and over and over and over again until everyone has them memorized).
By the way, here are a few of my first favorite books (I still have them memorized!):

Sam's First Favorite Books:

Mark's First Favorite Books:

Cole currently likes to eat any book. I'll post his favorite books when he's more selective and more into reading than eating.

Being a mom is like being a cage fighter.

The lights dim. The crowd turns their attention to the entrance as a spotlight falls upon a single silhouette entering the arena. The Itsy Bitsy Spider blares from the speakers as I-mean-it-you-have-until-the-count-of-three Mom enters the ring.  Once again the lights dim as multi-colored beams of light flash across the arena. Fight For Your Right to Party (Beastie Boys) begins to blast through the arena, as Toddler the Terrible enters. The crowd goes wild...


Being a mom is like being a cage fighter. No rules. Anything goes. Fight to the finish. There's blood, sweat, and tears...for the mom. And that's just from trying to get a toddler to get ready in the morning.

At night, I sometimes feel like those fighters that they interview after the fight who are barely coherent from one too many blows to the old noggin.  "Ya know, there at the end, I was just trying to make it to the bell..." Forget winning. I watched this one ultimate fighting match once where one of the fighters was pretty old for the sport. He didn't win, but people respected him for trying. His victory was that he made it to the end and that his young, whipper-snapper opponent didn't deliver a KO (knock-out). That's how I feel some days. Maybe I didn't teach my children Japanese today or proper etiquette at the dinner table; maybe the house isn't spotless; maybe dinner wasn't a gourmet meal (let's just say we had a panini with fruit and a nut cream tonight); but, we are still alive and well. Victory.

Being a mom is like being an olympic gymnast.

May 5

One day, when my second son was just a baby, we were at storytime at the library. When it was time to leave, my two year old decided that he didn't want to go yet. We were six feet from the doors, and Sam decided to do the sack of potatoes maneuver which then progressed into the helicopter arms, body wiggle evasive maneuver. I had Mark, only a few months old at the time, clutched in one arm while I tried to get a hold of my flailing two-year-old. I remember bending and moving in ways that I didn't think possible for the human body as I tried to hold onto one child while grabbing the other, all while maintaining a smile (that-I-wish-I-could-just-spank-my-child-right-now-but-spanking-is-bad-so-I-would-never-do-that-at-least-not-with-so-many-witnesses smile). And I remember thinking, "This must be what it feels like to be a gymnast in the Olympics." You're pushing your body beyond physical limits all while smiling for the crowd and pretending like it's easy. The only difference is that for moms, there's no cheering crowd, no gold medal. Just as well, the gold medal would probably just end up in the bottom of the toy box with the rest of my jewelry.

Being a mom (of a newborn especially) is like being a zombie

May 4

Scary-looking, brainless, the walking dead...these are all words that could describe a zombie OR the mother of a newborn baby. Now hear me out before you stop reading in a huff. When I had my first baby, I was very scary-looking for probably the first month. I know some moms don't ever go through this phase, but I'm going to be honest and say, I did. (Still do sometimes when all three boys have the stomach flu or some bug).

 I remember one late night walking by a mirror and seriously scaring myself with my reflection. I hadn't done my make-up in weeks, my hair in days...I'm not sure how long it had been since I had showered. I hadn't slept for longer than three hours at once, and I the dark circles and bags under my eyes were evidence of this. I was pale and exhausted and pasty and exhausted...and did I mention that I was exhausted?

I was also brainless. My sister mentioned the other day that some study found that pregnancy brain can last almost two years after having the baby. I believe that this is due to the scientific fact that babies in utero devour your brain cells, and everyone knows that you can't grow new ones. Add the lack of sleep, extra demands, and hormones, and I think it's a miracle that women even remember how to breathe. Was it breathe in or out first? I never can remember. I mean, I have a master's degree, but for awhile there, I could barely make complete sentences or use words with more than one syllable.

As for being feeling like the walking dead, I think that's the best description of what it feels like when you're a sleep-deprived, over-stressed new mommy. Some writer friends and I were into writing zombie haiku, and this is some of my zombie haiku written on the edges of the nursing chart that I used to keep track of things (that was when I had my first baby and thought I could be all organized like that--I kept track of how long he nursed, number of dirty diapers...needless to say, it didn't last long). Anyway, here's the tender thoughts I had in the middle of the night while nursing:

With dragging footsteps
In the middle of the night
Time for feeding.

Mom with no make-up--
A hideous sight to see,
Looks like a zombie.

Dark circles under eyes--
Resembling the living dead;
Not zombie--Mombie!

Being a mother is like being in a three-ring circus

May 3

A few months ago we were on a little vacation. It was actually a work trip for Nic, and we got to tag along. Every morning for breakfast, we (three little boys and I) had to cross a parking lot and go down a flight of stairs for the hotel breakfast buffet. Picture this: I had my six month old strapped to my chest in a baby carrier, my eighteen month old on my hip, and my three year old hanging onto my belt loop. We would make our way down the stairs, I would sit Sam down at a table, drag a high chair over, and then juggle glasses of juice to my offspring who would shortly spill said juice.

We had four mornings of this and I noticed that every morning we got the same two reactions: people were either astounded and amazed like we were a flying trapeze act or people openly laughed and were amused like we were clowns piling out of a miniature car. That's when I realized that being a mom is like being in a three ring circus.

I mean every mother knows how to juggle, figuratively and literally. And ask any mother who has ever stepped on a wooden block or toy car on the very top step while carrying a basket of laundry, every day is filled with death defying acts. Trying to sneak out of the room of a sleeping baby while not stepping on any of the creaky boards or noise-making toys that come out of nowhere is like tight rope walking, but with higher stakes. There are hoops to jump through, lions to tame, and crowds to entertain. Some days I feel like the elephant balancing on a tiny ball, working for peanuts. But, hey, I sure do like those peanuts.

Being a mom is like being on a soap opera.

This is from Honest Mom (here's the link to this post: honestmom.com). She has a ton of great stuff on her blog to make you smile or sigh with relief that someone else thinks as you do. And I know that people say that girls are a lot of drama, but I feel like there have been many Oscar worthy performances in my home as well. =)

May 2

HOW BEING A MOM IS LIKE BEING ON A SOAP OPERA

We moms may wear yoga pants all day, every day. Drive minivans whose interiors are coated in Cheerios and raisins. And be lucky if we got to drag a comb through our hair in the morning, let alone shower.

The glamorous aspects of our lives are easy to miss, I admit.

But trust me. Being a mom is actually full of drama, mystery, and intrigue.

In fact, being a mom is strangely just like being in a soap opera.

Think about it:

Someone is always losing her memory at a very convenient time. “Did you use markers on this stuffed doggie to make it a ‘rainbow doggie’?”  ”I don’t remember.”

Someone’s always coming back from the dead. Snow White’s head pops off and mommy fixes it. Baby Doll suffers a lethal gash to the abdomen and mommy sews it. A paper doll Fancy Nancy disappears and is presumed dead, but mommy finds it. They all come back. Resurrections galore.

Every day is filled with intrigue. What is that mystery smell in the basement? Who decided to color the rug with crayons? Where, for the love of God, is my kid’s beloved kitty cat that she lost for the third time today?

If there’s a secret to keep, it’s not going to be kept for long by the townsfolk. “Daddy, we made you a present for Father’s Day! But mommy told me not to tell you it’s a mug, so I can’t tell you what it is.”

Anytime two people are about to have sex, the scene gets interrupted. In soaps the interruption is in the form of a commercial, because daytime TV can only show so much. In parenting, the interruption is in the form of your kids. Or the dog. Or the iPhone pinging that you have a text. Not that I would ever look at a text during sex. That would be SO WRONG.

Characters tend to talk to themselves or think out loud. I walk around narrating my day, to the
dismayfascination of my captive audience. I do it because it helps me remember what I am walking into a room to get, and not because millions of people want to know if I will, indeed, find the glue gun. But you know. Same difference.

An illicit sibling is eventually discovered. Oh, wait. Is that just me?

Someone gets possessed. Like Marlena in Days of Our Lives, I too, can become possessed. Not by a demon, per say. Unless you consider Pinterest a demon. Which I kind of do, considering its slightly scary grip on me. Piiiiiin meeeeee. Piiiiiin meeeeeeee. Did you just hear that?

There is a crime on a daily basis and everyone denies being the perpetrator. Ah, intrigue again! The crime: spilled maple syrup on the table, chair, and floor. The suspects: my two daughters, who vehemently deny any wrongdoing. Will the threat of no cookies after dinner make one of them snap and confess?

There’s a love triangle. In my house, we have a love triangle, that’s for sure. Me and my two daughters, who fight over whose turn it is for mommy to read, shower them, help them get ready for bed … you name it, I’m in the middle. Surrounded by
crazy love.

People disappear from their beds in the middle of the night. And then reappear next to your bed. Looking for a glass of water at 2am.

See? Our days are positively filled with drama and mystery!