Three photos that tell you a little something about my children

I am often snapping photos of the kids with my iPhone. Most of them are pretty crappy, because it's the iPhone (and an old one at that -- with the sucky camera) and I'm not a great photographer.

But a photo isn't all about the technical execution of it, right? Beauty, lighting and composition are important, yes, but what's even more important is what the photo means to the viewer.

So when I was looking back through my collection of phone photos and came across these three photos, I felt really proud of my incessant snapping. Because somehow, I captured something really core about each of my children -- without even really trying.

 Clair:

 
At first glance, this looks like a photo of Clair sleeping sweetly in her crib. She is a pretty champion sleeper, but that's not what got me about this pic. Look carefully. Do you see the green and pink things decorating her blanket and sheets? Yes, well those are supposed to be decorating her wall! Remember that tree I spent 90 minutes applying to the wall behind her crib, when I was pregnant with her - and had a raging head cold, to boot? This is what has become of it. She peels the stickers off the walls and tosses them around her crib, or flings them on the floor. Why? Because she can.
My Clair is always, always getting into things. She is always doing something stereotypically toddlerish. She is a silly, mischievous little rascal, and I LOVE it that this photo of serenity is accented by evidence of the A+ she gets every day in Advanced Level Nuisance.
Also...I just love her so much. I crept into her room to take this photo and -- even though she had clearly just been destroying my decorating work -- my heart just overflowed watching her sleep.

Dean:

I have said before that Dean is a do-er and a helper. But the older he gets, the more and more those traits show through. He is SUCH a help to me and to everyone around him -- even when you don't actually *need* his help, he insists on giving it. He has been asking and asking to help wash the dishes (I know right? Who does that?), and I usually say no because ...ain't nobody got time for that.
But on this night, I said yes. And lo and behold -- this child actually paid attention when I showed him how to wet the sponge, turn off the water, soap up the sponge, wash all the surfaces of each dish, rinse the dish and then put it in the dish drain. After I showed him ONE time, he did it himself with such precision and conscientiousness, I was shocked. He did a great job! And he was so proud of himself. I love how helpful my little boy is, and how much he enjoys being a caretaker. Lester and I still could do much better finding activities that satisfy his need to be cutting, banging, fixing, fiddling, doing. And we are going to really make an effort to do that, because he really loves being up in the mix so much. But in the meantime, until we find some kind of toddler shop class or some such, we have a ton of chores he can do! :-)

Cary:

I love this photo -- which I took because Clair was being so silly, pretending to sleep in the kitchen (fake snoring and all). I snapped it because of Clair, but then I realized that it is really illustrious of Cary's wonderful bookworm personality. At night before bed, he reads. In the morning, when he is supposed to be getting himself dressed, he reads. In the middle of craziness (baby sisters sleeping on the kitchen floor?), he reads. He reads books, magazines, catalogs, pamphlets, the local pizza shop flyer. If it has words on it, he studies it, every page, brings it to bed and hoards it. When it was his turn to pick something to bring to school to share with his class this week, he chose his High Five magazine. And when he is into his "reading," it is SO hard to tear him away. I can't tell you how many timeouts we've had to threaten because he gets so engrossed in whatever he is reading and it's like he honestly just blocks out everything else. He reminds me a ton of the way my mother describes herself at this age. Lazy as a lima bean; not the most social child; always, always with her head in a book. How did I give birth to my mother, y'all?

I love these three little human beings. And it is SO much fun getting to know who they are.

Boys' first day of school (sorta); a wedding, a hangover and other tidbits

Today the boys had their orientation /first day at their new school!

We met their new teacher, toured their beautiful classrooms, watched as they selected cubbies, played with toys, did some spin art, and met new friends. They also saw their friend Marcus, and fell right in together, like old times.

This is the multi-purpose room. We were waiting to go up and tour their classrooms.

Their new teacher, Mr. Valle.

The Three Amigos. That's Marcus - in the stylin' hat.

Making spin art.

Their masterpieces! (And my toes.)

Guys - it is such a nice building, with all the things you think of when you imagine what a pre-school should look like. I got all teary thinking about how blessed we are to be able to provide this kind of place for our kids - and about how this is the kind of school ALL kids deserve. I don't know how the years will go -- or even this year -- but I can tell you that I really felt good when I left there today.


This week is another crazy week, with weird schedules and introducing the new aftercare sitter to the routine, so I'm not completely out of the "I need a Xanax" woods just yet. But I'm getting there.

Speaking of the new aftercare person, Friday was officially Michelle's last day with us, after four years of being a total member of our family. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH! :-(
 

We'll miss you, Mi-Mi!

I am so sad about it. She was a Godsend, truly. I don't know what we're going to do without her. We made a special dinner for her, and gave her flowers and a balloon, and we had chocolate cake to celebrate our time with her. We were all really sad (but cake helps!) and we're determined that Michelle will not be gone for long. We'll still have her come hang out with the kids for some date nights, etc. And she wants us to Skype with her from time to time, too. I love it that she loves my kids so much, especially because they ADORE her. So, for us, it's just see you later, Michelle, and not good-bye. You can't get rid of us that fast!

This weekend, as a matter of fact, we would have used her to go to my friend Andrea's wedding, but we decided to let them stay with my parents overnight so that we could enjoy the wedding and not have to get up at the crack of dawn the next day.

Andrea's wedding was fabulous! She looked beautiful, but she's asked us not to share photos of her, so I won't. Just trust me when I say her dress was gorgeous! And it was great to get together with her and so many friends and drink and eat and cut-up and dance the night away. We had so much fun!!

"Ussie" with my girls Kelly and Shreya

Me and my sweetpea. Check him out in his new tux -- and 35 lbs. lighter! I hate him.

Why am I so short? I blame my parents.

The fellas, stylin'!

By the end of the night, women were bringing out bottles upon bottles of spirits, with fireworks coming out the top. Yes, it was that kind of night.

I might have done a little too much cutting up (ahem) because the next morning, Lester and I both needed this -- in copious amounts.

But it was great to get to go out to brunch with my sweetie and ease into the day. Many thanks to my Mom and Dad for watching the Davis crazies for us! We love you!

Cary and B.O.B. are becoming friends

Some of you mentioned the B.O.B. books for Cary when I mentioned a while back that he was showing some very preliminary early reading signs.

I was doubtful that he was ready, so I didn't get them. But lately, Cary has been poking his bottom lip out, lamenting that "I don't know how to reeeeeeaaad," and "I can't reeeeead!" so I figured it couldn't hurt to at least try the books and see how he does.

We got the first set of books last week, and he is doing so great with them, I can't even tell you!

I don't know why the sound on this video is soooo incredibly low, but if you turn your computer speakers ALL the way up, as far as they'll go, you can hear him sounding out words phonetically, like a big boy! So proud of him! Most of all, he is really proud of himself!

Dean is also doing very well with the books, though he is not as adept just yet as his older, book-loving brother in this area. But what has surprised me about my builder/doer/helper boy Dean is that --  once he saw Cary "reading" --  he immediately took a serious interest in the books, and has been asking me every day to read them to him and help him sound out words. And unlike Cary, who is easily frustrated when he doesn't quickly master something, Dean is undeterred by mistakes and just wants to keep trying and trying and trying. I SO admire that trait in him. (Not sure who he gets that from, but don't look my way...)

It's nice to see them both excited about these books. Generally, Dean has his "thing" and Cary has his, and they both sorta don't care what the other one is into. But with this, both boys are equally psyched about at least trying to figure out what those darn words on those little pages are actually saying!

Looking forward to them learning even more about reading this school year! Maybe by this time next year, they'll be reading bedtime stories to us.

I've got 99 problems and my kids are 3 of them

Sometimes all my kids are going along swimmingly, being insane but normally so, nothing special to report. Same ole, same ole. Another day another diaper.

But these days, I have issues with each one of them. Issues I honestly am not sure how to handle.

Let's start with the oldest, shall we?

Cary: He wore his glasses for two days without problems. Then, all of a sudden, when people are around, he refuses to wear them. At my mother's house, he donned a Batman mask to avoid having to put on his specs. At church, he wouldn't go into his classroom with them on - just flat out refused. And today, when I made him put them on, he took them off and flung them to the floor.
I know part of the problem is that we made a huge tactical error by making a big deal out of the glasses and how cool they were in the beginning. My Dad came by and oohed and aahed; we even asked the hostess at Gertrude's to tell him how handsome he was in his new glasses, which she was happy to do (because he DOES look cute in them!) Turns out, Cary doesn't love all the attention his glasses bring. He told me, "I don't want people to say things about them!" But why he doesn't want to wear them even at home all of sudden, I have no idea. And I don't know what to do to convince him that he has to wear them. I don't want to turn the idea of his glasses into a sore spot, but I keep finding myself threatening him with timeout if he doesn't put them on. The doctor was adamant that he has to wear them full-time or else his vision could get worse. So what else can I do?
Color me stumped.

See? Here he is lying in the bed "reading" a book WITHOUT his glasses.

Dean: Did I post here before about the time Dean stashed a lollipop under his pillow, to eat, I suppose, after the rest of us had gone to bed? I can't remember if I told you all that story. But nevermind that because guess who did it again? This time with a STOLEN piece of candy from Target? Yes, you guessed it. My middle child. While I was in North Carolina for my friend Laurie's 50th birthday, Lester had to take all three kids to Target. At the checkout counter, apparently, Dean spied a piece of candy he wanted, tucked it into his pocket, carried it all the way home, put the candy under his pillow, got undressed, put his pajamas on, and said not. a. word. the whole time about his contraband. Lester only discovered it because the child who has the sophistication to swipe candy, stash it away, DELAY GRATIFICATION (helloooo!) and keep a poker face the entire time is still only 4 and too young to realize that he had to pick up his pillow (hey dumb-dumb, move your hiding place next time, eh?) to get in the bed after our nighttime prayers. Of course, after Lester found the candy, there was a long conversation about stealing and what that means and about honesty, etc. Lester told me later he was "crestfallen" about it. And I am too. I know that Dean doesn't really understand what "stealing" is, but the fact that he is capable of that kind of planned-out deceit is ...unnerving. Not totally surprising -- he's always been the child who looks for things to get into to. But still, it's alarming. Even if he is only 4.
Color me flummoxed.

No cavities at this last check-up, but I don't know what will happen if he keeps stashing candy under his pillow at night. Also, how can I get him to use his powers for good?!?!

Clair:  The first day of summer camp went OK. The next day, not as well, but still OK. By Day 3, she was in tears from the time we started getting her dressed until after Lester dropped the kids off at school. She cries great big, sad tears, and pleads with us with her eyes not to send her to school. "I don't want to go to camp!" she wails. "I want to stay here with Mommy and MiMi!" It breaks my heart. And now, I guess because she's so freaked out by being left at summer camp, she also has reverted back to acting the fool at children's church. Yesterday, for the first time in forever, they flashed us on the screen during service to come get her from her class. Some of it has to do with the fact that yesterday was the day they moved all the pre-school kids up a level, so the boys went from the 3s to the 4s and Clair went from the 18-24mos. class to the 2-year-olds class. So the change wigged her out, I know. But she was crying at home before we even left for church, once she ascertained where we were going. She refused to put her shoes on, thinking that would prevent us from taking her. And at one point, she even started climbing, barefoot and resolute, up the stairs, saying, "I want to stay here - by myself." It rips my heart out the way she cries, and it also affects my mood for a good part of the day. She's just so highly-anxious! I also really worry now about what will happen when we (hopefully/prayerfully) find a new person to take care of the kids afterschool. She LOVES Michelle and will likely flip the funk out when her time with us is up.
Church, camp, school in the fall, a new caregiver -- I just think this whole transition is going to suck suck suck. 
Color me defeated.

How can you be so cute and independent and fearless sometimes and so fearful and anxious and maddening other times? Quit breaking Momma's heart, girl!

Here's lookin' at you, Cary.

The boys' pre-school does a complimentary eye screening, and when the results came back last month, Dean passed, but Cary did not.

So yesterday, we took Cary to see a pediatric opthamologist.

And sure enough, my little sweetie is nearsighted and has astigmatism.

This is what things look like for Cary. And if they're too far away -- forget it.

That poor kid, I swear. If ain't one thing, it's another with him. First his ears (which I have some lingering concerns about, by the way, but that's a post for another day) and now this.

In the scheme of things, having to sport spectacles is far from the worst thing that could ever happen to a child, I know. But I still feel sad that my little 4 lb.-4 ouncer seems to have really borne the brunt of being born too early and too small. I keep thinking, "If only I could've kept him in another week! Even a few more days!" I know that's silly. But if I could go back in time and force myself to stay in bed the week before my water broke, I would so do it. (I'd do a lot of other things differently too, come to think of it, if I had access to a time machine. Most of them involve traveling, saving money and avoiding narcissistic, emotionally unavailable knuckleheads. But I digress.)

We ordered a pair of glasses for him that look similar to this (but not exactly these) and they'll arrive in about seven business days.

OK, I gotta admit. He is pretty darn cute in glasses!

The doctor says he will need to wear glasses all the time - and forever. He said the astigmatism might actually improve with eyeglass-usage, but he'll be nearsighted for the rest of his life.

I'm not sure how one gets a 4-year-old to keep a pair of eyeglasses on all day, everyday. So if anyone has suggestions, I'll take 'em. I did order two books for him about having to wear glasses. And we've been trying to downplay the "problem" with his eyes and play up the coolness of getting to wear glasses.

But other than that - I have no frame of reference for this (no pun intended). Pro tips, anyone?

All I know is, despite the ear challenge and the eye challenge -- and whatever else comes up in his little life -- all my eyes see when I look at him is pure perfection.

The Cary-Clair dynamic

Cary, last night, referring to Clair:

"Mommy, why does my brain keep telling me, 'Tease her, tease her?'"

Seriously guys. He loves to torture her. And not just in the typical "take her toys, make her cry" kind of ways. He finds subtle ways to make her know that she is not in the Cary-Dean Cool Club. All the time.


If I say, "Guys, look at these shirts I bought you!" And they say, "Wow! Cool!" And then I tell Clair, "Here's your new shirt, sweetie!" Cary will turn to her, quick as lightning, and say, "That's not cool at all, Clair!" For no reason! She wasn't paying him any attention. Her shirt has nothing to DO with him!

What is that all about?? I can't stand it!

He taunts her, runs to jump in a space if he sees her headed for it, closes doors when he sees her coming in, complains incessantly if I lie her down on his bed to change her into her pajamas. "Get off my beddddddd!" he whines. "That's my bed!"

I guess I have a basic understanding of sibling rivalry, but this seems to go beyond. 

Dean does not do this to her. He has his almost-4-year-old moments of being selfish and not so nice, of course. But mostly, he cares for Clair, looks after her, gets a little distressed if she cries too long or too hard. He's patient with her and will, on many occasions, automatically include her in whatever it is he and his brother are doing. More than anything, it seems, he is not threatened by her presence, like Cary seems to be. In fact, he seems to rather enjoy her being a part of things. So why doesn't Cary?

Parents of twins and other siblings - tell me: Does this get better over time?

Pictures can lie

Don't believe everything you see in photos.

Despite the appearance of wintry family fun, this snow day excursion lasted only about a half-hour before Cary started whining incessantly that he was "coooooooold!"

Clair actually did enjoy the snow - eating it.

Re-purposing beach toys!

The wildlings are climbing the wall!

Despite Dean's sudden interest in my "crown books," he actually isn't quite ready to read "Game of Thrones."

This is how we found him this morning, after Lester came in to wake the boys up for school.

 Despite what Lester says, my eldest child does not look like Bruno Mars:

Similar hair maybe. But Bruno has way more coordination.

Despite Dean's severe side-eye at his friend Marcus, he actually was really jump-up-and-down excited that they both were wearing the same Batman pajamas for "Pajama Day" at school.

Not sure where Dean learned how to give such exemplary side-eye. Ahem.

See? Best Batman buds... (this photo you can believe!)

Parent-teacher conference

Lester and I went to our first ever parent-teacher conference last night.

We sat in tiny little chairs in the boys' classroom and heard all about how great our sons are. According to their teachers, Cary and Dean are "so sweet" and very "polite" and almost always on task when they've been asked to sit criss-cross applesauce with their hands in their laps. They are "bright" boys and know their letter sounds, shapes and colors -- and even a couple of Spanish words (rojo and azul). They also take their "jobs" very seriously, we were told, even though that's something we already knew. "Door holder" and "line leader" are tasks we hear a lot about in our house.

Their teachers also talked about Cary's supreme love of books and reading, and Dean's supreme love of being the boss of everyone.

"Dean is a real alpha male," Miss Michelle told us. "He is going to be running the world one day."

That made me laugh.

All in all, it was a really good visit. If all our parent-teacher conferences go that way, I'll do a happy dance for the next 15 years.

I was slightly concerned that the school doesn't seem equipped or willing to help nurture Cary's reading readiness. But then I talked to my Mom and she reminded me that pre-school is more about helping kids develop holistically -- with a special emphasis on social, emotional and behavioral markers. Lester was already of that mindset, and he assumed as well that there wasn't much the teachers could do even if they wanted to in a class of 19 three-year-olds. (And Cary and Dean are only there half-day.)

So I'm no longer concerned. We'll just keep working with reading at home with both boys and continue to support the school in the areas that they are focused on this year -- such as using their inside voices. If they can help my two megaphone-mouthed boys to do that, I will give their teachers a million dollars.

Great evening at home with the kids

When I got home last night the kids were in dress-up mode.

In honor of Movember, I decided to heighten the fun and add stick-on mustaches to their get-ups. But the Davises were not as enthralled with this idea as I was. 

I had to bribe Cary and Dean to keep theirs on long enough for me to snap a picture, and Clair isn't old enough to understand bribing, so she just cried and then ripped hers off and threw it on the floor.

(Note: That dinosaur costume is really made for someone Clair's size, but Cary refused to take it off all night. He made us all call him "Dinosaur Cary" and he roared at us 'til bedtime.)

Later on in the night, the kids were all "co-wing" -- Clairspeak for "coloring" -- with pens and stray pieces of paper. This happens quite a bit; there's lots of scribbling and pen-poking and usually nothing really worth noting comes out of their artistry.

But last night, Dean drew an actual person! For the first time ever! 

"It's you, Mommy," he said. "On the beach!"

Awwww. I was really very impressed. One of the fascinating things about parenting is watching how children develop. Sometimes you can see things happening gradually, as with Cary right now and pre-reading. And other times, it's scribble, scribble, scribble, scribble, and then BAM! a stick-figure with a head, eyes, legs and curly hair!

And finally, I felt good about our decision to get our butts to church again when this conversation happened:

Clair, climbing up the stairs, whining because she thinks she's going to fall: "Ah fall! Ah fall!"
Me to the boys: "Cary and Dean, go tell your sister she's OK and that she's not going to fall."
Cary: "Clair, it's OK. Don't be scared. God is always with you."

Isn't that so sweet? I don't think Clair bought Cary's encouragement, because I had to stop what I was doing and come get my poor whining girl, frozen on the stairs. But it doesn't matter. I felt so great about Cary (CARY!) rushing to help his sister, and remembering what they're learning in children's church when he did. 

A rare moment of Cary looking sweetly at Clair. Could we be turning a corner?

And then we all had dinner together, all five of us, and there was cookie-cake for dessert, gifted to us by a friend! 

All in all, it was a really, really good night.

(Until I woke up at 4 in the morning in a full-on heart-racing, blood-coursing in my ears, can't regulate my breathing panic. But that's a post for another day.)

Go wash the dishes, Mom!

The other night Cary said to me, "Mommy, we don't need your help anymore with this puzzle. Go wash the dishes."

Go. wash. the. dishes. Wait...what?

It's not so much that my 3-year-old had the audacity to order me to do something (Cary has a long way to go toward understanding his tone, and also what is appropriate to say to adults and what is not. We are working on that. Daily.)

It's that he ordered me to wash the dishes! What is this? 1950?

Careful readers will remember a post from a while back where I detailed the chores-breakdown at our house. In it, I noted that Lester actually washes the dishes the majority of the time in our house. I do my fair share, but it just ends up a lot of times that he does the dishes. So where did that sexist statement come from?

His statement (command?) reminds me of this Modern Love piece: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/10/06/fashion/a-feminists-daughter-finds-love-in-the-kitchen.html?emc=eta1&_r=0

I read Modern Love all the time, but this one was one of the most beautiful and nuanced posts they've run, I think.

It's about a daughter of the feminist movement, her complicated relationship with her own mother and how it colors her relationship with her 10-year-old daughter. It starts off when her daughter lists reasons why she loves her.

"You make my lunch most days,” she began, “and you make dinner,” the blogger says. Other observations followed, including that she was “huggy” and “smart.” But first came the kitchen.



The post goes on to explore the writer's many feelings about being connected to the kitchen. "Why does food service count the most?" she wonders.

But in the end -- as she revisits her childhood, kindly, but not rosily -- she comes to the conclusion that it's not so bad being associated with the kitchen, a warm place where people are fed and nourished in various ways - all important. She says:

I know how much the mundane care of children matters. That is why I stop work when the school day ends and greet my daughter with a hug. I may be tired, stressed out or grumpy; I may bemoan the confinement, the repetition, the career limits. But I do it anyway. I pull away from paid pursuits and open myself to the opportunity to delight in my daughter.

My delight comes freely, inspired by a leggy girl with rich brown eyes who has just come home. But our time together is about more than delight. When I hand her a snack and look into her face, seeking the stories of her day, I intend for her to feel how much she matters. She matters more to me right then than anything I could be doing without her. And we will not have these afternoons forever. 

We will not have these afternoons forever. Or these evenings on our floor between dinner and bedtime, playing Legos, reading books, tumbling off the sofa, playing "monster" or doing puzzles.

Which is why I ignored my child's tone, and his directive, and kept right on helping.

Those dishes can wait. So can the lecture on feminist history. 

And one day in the not-too-far-off future, it'll be Cary's job to do the dishes. 

Hear ye! Hear ye!

Cary now has bionic hearing!

OK, not really, but as of yesterday he does have tubes in his ears and the spaces behind his ear drums are finally fluid-free! Yay!

The surgery went exceptionally well. The procedure itself took like 10 minutes. It started at 7:30 a.m., and after recovering (with a Popsicle, the Disney channel and doting nurses fussing over him) Cary, Lester and I were home by 9:30.

The docs and nurses all told us that children usually wake up from the procedure screaming bloody murder, disoriented and grumpy.

Here's how Cary woke up.

He was quiet and curious and a little bored by the whole thing, actually. Then they turned on the cartoons, gave him a Popsicle, and he was in Heaven.

He kept asking, "But where's Dean's Popsicle?"

We go back in 3 weeks for a hearing test, but I can already tell that he hears things better. Yesterday, on the porch, a police helicopter hovered over our neighborhood (a regular occurrence, I'm afraid) and Cary said, "That helicopter is too loud!" Then, this morning, I turned the shower on and he said, "It's too loud!"

So we think the tubes have done the trick! If all's well, the doctor said they'll be in for a year. Not sure what happens after that, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Anywho, I'm glad we got this procedure done and over with. One fewer thing on the worry list to worry about. And also, please God let this mean no more AUGMENTIN. (Ugh! That stuff is the worst!)

In other news, my Mom came out to spend the night with us on Sunday so she could be with Clair and Dean while we were at the hospital with Cary.

She must've done this puzzle a thousand times. Bless her!

The boys adore her! They asked her to sleep in their beds with them,  repeatedly asked her not to leave, even asked her to "live here with us," and only wanted to be wherever she was in the house. Cary almost peed on himself once because he didn't want to go to the bathroom because, "Nana will leave in a second!" Only after we assured him that she was spending the night would he go.

And even Clair was happy to be with Nana! She allowed her to hold her and kiss her. She let Nana braid her hair! Instead of being clingy and whiny and afraid, she was her sweet, silly, jabbering self.

I was so happy for my Mom to see Clair this way. I wish she was able to come visit us more often, so she could get to know the real Clair a little more.

My baby girl is getting to be less baby and more girl. (Sadness!)

Cary and Clair both love Dean the best. Look how cute they are!

 Anyway, I'm back at work today -- so time to FOCUS!!

Cary has been on a roll

*Playing with these last night, the boys were whizzing through, matching pictures with letters like old pros. Then I noticed Cary looking forlorn. "I can't find it," he whined. "I can't find it!"
"Which one are you looking for?" I asked him.
"W," he said.
I did a quick scan of the floor and realized the W was already matched with its picture, the watermelon, and was away in the box, with the other already-matched cards.
"Are you sure you're looking for W?" I asked. "What picture do you have?"
He turns the card around so I can see it, showing me a yellow, sour fruit.
"Wemon," he says.
"Ummm, yeah, sweetie," I told him. "Good job trying, but I think you want the 'L.'"
Then I cracked up (silently).

*In the tub, going over personal information.
Me: Dean, what's your last name?
Dean: DAVIS!
Me: Good job! Cary, what's your last name?
Cary: Ummm. ummmm....ummm..."Beary?"

(Guess we have to do the last name drill a little more often with that kid. And stop calling him Cary Beary.)

P.S. I know we have not done a good job doing the personal information stuff with my kids. When did you all start drilling the whole "Phone number, address, call 9-1-1 in an emergency" stuff? Is now a good age to start?

* This morning, as I get dressed:
Cary: Mommy, do you have a baby in your tummy?
Me (sighing): No, but thanks for that, kid. That's just leftover from Clair. I'm done having babies.
Cary: Nooooo. I want you to have Russy!

Cary Beary is hysterical. Love that kid.

Cary's hearing issues revisited (plus a bit on Clair)

Yesterday, I took Cary to a hearing assessment center, because Lester and I had been having some lingering feelings about Cary's hearing.

The bad news: Cary does have some "reduced" hearing, the doctor said.
It is likely caused by fluid that remains in his ears, unable to drain for some reason. The doctor said, for Cary, it's like going through life with his fingers stuck in his ears. He can hear, but it's muffled, or not as clear as it could be. The fluid can and does shift, most likely, which would explain why sometimes he can hear us just fine, and other times it's like he's wearing Beats by Dre' headphones.

The good news: This is not a permanent condition. This has not had any effect on Cary's verbal or cognitive abilities (which the doctor called "quite good.") So this has likely not been going on for very long. And this is something that is common in children his age, and easily treatable.

We have an appointment next week with a pediatric ENT who will be able to establish with more certainty just exactly what is going on with Cary, and give us recommendations to fix the problem. The doctor we saw yesterday said he can imagine a range of solutions, from prescription decongestants to surgically-implanted tubes.

Those who know me will be so proud to know that I have not spent ridiculous hours reading everything ever written about fluid in the ears, tubes, "reduced hearing," or any key words that would send me down the rabbit hole of worry/anxiety.

Instead, I took Cary out to Friendly's for ice cream and had one of the best lunches of my life just sitting and talking to my sweetie, who -- freed of his extrovert attention-grabbing brother -- was charming and peppy, waving at customers and brightly chirping "Hi!" "Hello!" "Oh, hi!" to servers as they walked by.

And Les and I will just wait to hear what the ENT says -- in conjunction with our pediatrician -- and make decisions when we have all the information we need. In the meantime, we know our baby is just fine. So there's no need to worry. (This kind of attitude is so freeing! Is this the 40 talking?? If so, I like it!)

In bed last night, I prayed to God, my heart filled with gratefulness that Cary is as OK as he is. And that all our children are extremely healthy. I know this is not a given, and that many, many amazing parents are dealing with frightening and unthinkable health concerns with their kids. Fluid on the ears makes me a little sad for Cary (who wants to go through life with your fingers in your ears?) but I know that there are FAR worse things. And again I say, we know our baby will be just fine.

###

Meanwhile, we took Clair in for her 15-month-checkup today and here are her stats:

Weight: 20 lbs., 14 oz. (She lost weight during that horrible pneumonia and is just starting to put it back on.)
Height: 20 and 1/4 inches

(Note: My sister points out that there is no way Clair can be 20 inches, as some babies are BORN longer than that. I'll have to check on this.)

She is doing exceedingly well development-wise. She is bright and energetic, has great receptive language (she told Dr. Bodnar to "shhh!" when he said something about quiet) and is, in Dr. Bodnar's words "a beautiful child, and I don't just mean physically."

I couldn't agree more!

Don't you love a little girl in jellies?

Wednesday explorers

I left work early yesterday to go home and be with Clairzee.

But on my drive home, I took note of how absolutely beautiful the day was and how green the grass and gorgeous the pink on the trees. I came in the house and Clair's cheeks were cool for the first time in days. She was cheerful and energetic. She looked more like herself. I almost cried.

And then I decided right then and there that the boys needed to get out in this day more than Clair needed me to snuggle her. Lester was happy to stay home with her, so we threw some balls and bats in the car and drove around the block to Herring Run park and the fields across the street from the boys' school.

We kicked the ball a little, hit the tee ball a little, watched a bit of a girls' lacrosse practice and ran around in the grass and the sun and the flowers, without a care in the world.

Then we decided to go exploring along the trail between the stream and the park. This was awesome, folks. I don't know why we haven't done this before.

Love this photo. They look like such big boys.

Tree-climbers.

They loved the independence of being able to just walk wherever they wanted and stop and explore whatever they wanted.

I love how they're looking at one another in this picture.

Where's Cary?

I have to say that this was one of the best afternoons we've had together in their short years on this earth. And there was no planning, no jam-packed schedule, no agenda, no fee to get in, no crowds, no constant cries for snacks, no over-stimulation and no jackets required.

We did, however, experience a  major meltdown when it was time to go home for dinner. Cary would've stayed out in the woods all night long if he could.

Let's zoom in on that cranky face, shall we?

Hahahaha!

I know he was really heartbroken that we had to leave our adventures in the woods, but his temper tantrums crack me up.

Despite that small bump in the road, this was a glorious afternoon and I'm sorry Clair missed it, but as soon as she's 100-percent better, we'll include her on future jaunts.

The return of the prodigal curls

Those of you who've been reading for a little while will remember that when I was pregnant with Clair, I knew I was having a girl before the doctors told me.

I knew because my naturally curly hair went flat, flat, flat.

Clair stole my curls, clearly, because her hair is even curlier and more coily than mine. And I worried that my hair would never be the same.

Well, it's taken a full year after Clair's birth, but ... MY CURLS ARE BACK!

Really bad selfie, in my office. But! You can see the beautiful necklace Lester gave me for Valentine's Day, that I LURV so much. It's got three silver discs, each one pressed with the name of one of my kids. And there's a tiny hangtag thingy you can't see that says "Blessed." Awwwww.

Hooray! Reason to celebrate! Drinks all around!


Also, in other things-we-inherit/steal-from-our-parents news, Cary is so clearly Lester's child, as evidenced by this right here:

This is one of Cary's favorite things to do -- "read" catalogs and magazines.

Yes. That is him posted up in the bathroom, intently "reading" the Costco catalog.

Like father, like son.