Milestones met; farm animals to pet. Big weekend!

This weekend, this happened:

Completely sitting up on her own! Ah yes, the golden age! When we can sit her on a soft pallet, surround her with a bunch of toys, and leave her alone while she plays. Until she falls over, of course. Or cries because she can't reach the exact toy she wants. But that's what Cary and Dean are for!
 
Also, this happened this weekend: Clair's first taste of rice cereal!

My baby girl is growing up. She'll be 6 months on the 16th -- a full half-a-year old. Wow. It is really going so much faster this time around. I feel like she was just born.

Speaking of time moving fast, my nephew Russy turned 5 (!!) this weekend. And the whole family celebrated at a local farm.

Happy Birthday Russ Buss!!

The boys were happy to run around in the grass.

And they loved seeing all their cousins!

Cary loved seeing and petting the animals. Here he is feeding a goat and making happy chortling noises.

Dean had no love for the animals. He was happy just to have a Capri Sun at all times.

See?

Clair was the life of the party, screeching and giggling and making everyone laugh all day with her big personality.

And she and Matty were soooo sweet together! Look at them -- holding hands! Awwww.

We bought Russy a Skippyjon Jones costume for his birthday. But of course we had to try it out ourselves first. My name is Skippito Friskito (clap clap)...

...I fear not a single bandito. (Clap clap!)

Can't believe this little cutie is 5 years old. Again, happy birthday Russy! We love you!

Forward, backward, staying in place

Clair: Moving forward

Clair can just about sit up on her own! This is a huge milestone that I remember from the boys' infancy. It is so very freeing when you don't have to prop a baby, or bring along some sort of sitting apparatus when traveling. And she looks like such a big girl, sitting up all straight-backed (for a few minutes at a time), playing with a toy and checking out the scenery.

And this morning, lying in my bed, playing with her feet, she started full-on babbling: DA-da! DAAA-da! Da-da-da-da-daaaa!

She sounds exactly like a fictional baby character in a Pixar movie. It's so adorable, I can't. even. deal.

Dean: Slightly stuck

Dean had a really bad evening yesterday -- very much like the ones I'd thought were somewhat behind us -- and of course, it was a night when Lester had a meeting. He was so over-the-top, all exposed nerves and tears and irrationality -- that I ended up putting both boys to bed at 7:25, no bath, no story, no fanfare. Just Good-night. Close the door. Heavy sigh.

It was all I could manage.

He's also started a bit of a stutter, getting stuck on the first words he's trying to say, especially when those words are "Cary," and "Baby Clair," for some reason. It often sounds something like: "Tarry-tarry-tarry-t-t-t-t-tarry-tarry (pause) Tarry took the Legos away!" I have read that we should ignore this, that his brain is just moving much faster than his mouth, but it worries Lester. Especially when paired with his stress-and-sleepiness-related eye-blinking, and his ball-of-nerves emotions. But, surprisingly, I (for once) am inclined not to worry. I think this is very normal for kids his age, so we'll try ignoring it and expecting it eventually  to go away.

Cary: Regressing

Cary, who can recognize all his letters, insisted today that a foam letter "L" was the letter "K." Like, arguing with me about it.

And this child who has known his colors for sooo long, very often lately, confuses red and yellow (who knows why.)

Michelle said, after two days of peeing in the potty, yesterday he flat out refused to sit on it (which made his shadow decide not to sit on it either.)

And this morning, Lester asked him if he wanted to go to school, and he said, without missing a beat, "mmm-MMM!" (Shaking his head no.)

Maybe it's just as well. It seems my two boys -- who demand to be on my lap more and more these days -- need a little more time at home. And that is alright with me.

Preparing for pre-school

Hard to believe it but the boys start pre-school in 25 days!

I finally started talking to them about it and preparing them by reading books (Llama Llama Misses Mama; Maisy Goes to Pre-School) etc., and surprisingly, Dean is the one who keeps saying, "Mommy, I want to go to tool!!" and Cary just looks a little skeptical and slightly pouty.

It'll be interesting how this all actually plays out at the end of the month, when we have to leave them at school. I am imagining tears and panicking and shot nerves (all around).

Meanwhile, I have started preparing myself for that emotional occurrence by ... shopping!!

I soothed my bubbling anxieties a bit by ordering the books I mentioned earlier and also adorable little kid backpacks, sippy-cup-style thermoses, reusable snack bags and labels with the boys' names on them.

Aren't these Skip Hop bags the absolute cutest? Although, I am now wondering whether a backpack with so much white in it is a good idea for a 2-year-old boy. The zebra may come back to bite me.

I'll have to deal with my actual emotions later, I know, but for now, I am feeling pretty good.

Thanks, retail therapy!

I refuse to get excited

Text I got from Michelle this morning:


The boys went pee pee 2x on the potty! Clair is having a great day as well.

After 2-plus years of parenting, I now know that this could mean something. Or it could mean nothing at all.

So, I won't even mention it. (Except to all of you.)

:-)

Discoveries

Things we have discovered about the Davis children in recent weeks:

1. Cary is the world's clumsiest child. We already knew this, but it was confirmed while at the beach. He seriously looked like he had been in a fight from all the falling he did. My poor child; he's all bruised and scraped up. Makes me sad.

2. Neither boy is a big fan of strange bathtubs. Go figure.

3. Dean just might be left-handed. We've suspected this for some time, but lately he has been choosing his left over his right more and more frequently. He still uses his right sometimes, though, and true handed-ness doesn't really show up for at least another year (maybe more). So we'll not invest in lefty scissors just yet.

4. Moving them to big boy beds is going to be an adventure. While at the beach, they slept together for the first time since early infancy. Oh, the hilarity and hijinks! It was fine for three nights, but when we have to go through these kind of shenanigans every night? Lord. I hope they stay in their cribs until they're teenagers.

5. Clair not only likes playing with her toes. She likes eating them!

6. Clair has a temper! She gets mad and throws things and yells at us when she doesn't get what she wants. At 5 months old, she does this. Hello. Can you say, "we're in for it?"

7. Dean loves to harass Cary. He takes food off his tray, pushes his napkin away, takes toys, sits as close as he possibly can to him, hits him and is just a general pest to his older brother. (But he's also very caring. When Cary is in a crying jag and can't express what he wants, Dean always goes up to him and says, "Tarry, no need to cry. Calm down. You want (fill in the blank)? O-tay!" It's really very sweet.)

8. Cary will answer for Dean if Dean doesn't know the answer to something, or is too slow (for his tastes) to respond. Dean's doing better though, at jumping in to avoid Cary stealing his thunder.

9. Both boys have learned to do three troubling things:

    A. Tell on one another -- "Mommy! MOMMY!! Dean is touching my chair!" "Mommy! Tarry took the Legos away!!"
    B. Tell "stories" -- Me: "Who has a poop?" Cary: "Deanie!" Dean: "Tarry!"
    C. Be bratty -- "Where are we going?! (fifty times)"; "Why are we going to this store?! (in a perturbed voice)"; "I don't want to go to the store! (angrily, and also fifty times)"; "I don't like this breakfast!!"

Again, can you say, "we're in for it?"

10. The boys know all their colors (including gray, white, black and brown) and all their shapes (including rhombus/diamond, heart and octagon.) Cary can recognize just about every letter in the alphabet and all his numbers up to 10. They can both count to 10 consistently and sometimes to 12! Yay!

Beach Training Trip 2012: Success!

We came home yesterday from Beach Training Trip 2012.

The verdict? Resounding success!! 

Color me totally surprised.

Despite my lack of pre-planning, we got out of the house on time and the boys managed the ride to Delaware without any whining or crying. Once there, we had a ton of fun! 

We got the boys to the beach four times (once even to the edge of the water!), rode a trolley, chased sea gulls, looked for sea shells, made new friends, rode kiddie rides (with minimal crying), took walks, ate frozen custard (wherehaveyoubeenallmylife?) and all sorts of other amazing junk food, and had an all around action-packed, but somehow relaxing, great time. I'm shocked. And elated. 

I honestly can't wait to do it again next year. Maybe we can even do a full week! (I cannot believe I'm saying this!)


Now...photos!!

At first, the boys would not even get close to the water. So I used the wagon as a buffer. They enjoyed watching the waves hit the shore -- from the safety of their vehicle.

Clair was an ANGEL the entire trip. She slept through the night in her Pack 'n Play, and rode with the punches for whatever it was we were doing. She even took a nap on the beach, attracting all kinds of people to come over and "awwww" at her. That's my girl.

Skill that must be learned: Eating food on the beach without getting sand all over everything. I'm pretty sure my children consumed more sand this trip than actual food.

The band-aids? Cary fell and scraped his head pretty bad. Once Dean saw that he had a band-aid, he had to have one, too. So this is how they walked around town, looking like rough 'n tumble city kids. Twins with matching "injuries" is cause for a whole lotta people stopping to ask questions, in case you didn't know.

You think I'm joking when I tell you that my boys do not smile, even when they're having fun. Because seriously, they thought this trolley ride was amazing! Can you tell? Of course not.

The trolley driver hated his job, and complained the entire time he was driving around. He also stopped the trolley in a shopping plaza to buy  a carton of cigarettes. This was hysterical to Lester and me. Reminds us of family members. LOL.

On our last day, we went to Rehoboth, to check out a new beach and some new scenery. The boardwalk there is hoppin'! But we had to stop every 6 seconds to let the boys grab fistfuls of popcorn, so eventually we got wise and just sat down and ate and people-watched until their was nothing left but butter and kernels. Dean might have eaten those too if we didn't throw the box away. (This is also where I got the frozen custard. ZOMG!!)

The boys rode in "fire trucks" and enjoyed it. But then, we tried them on "race cars" -- same ride, just different vehicles -- and Cary cried midway through. That was the end of the rides. But we got them on two! So we consider this a success!

My favorite photo of my two favorite beachcombers. Gracious, I love this pic!

The whole clan. We'll see you next year!

Pre-vacation craziness

We're leaving tonight for the Davis children's inaugural trip to the beach and I have done absolutely nothing to prepare.

This is so not like me.

I still have to go to the store, wash some clothes, prepare some snacks, pack, print out the directions to our hotel, etc. Why do I do this to myself? I should have taken today off to do some of this running around.
Ugh.

Truth be told, I'm not all that excited about this trip. Unlike many people I know, the beach is not my  favorite place on Earth. I don't dislike it, not at all. And whenever I've taken my sisters' kids to the beach, I have always truly enjoyed watching them play in the waves and on the sand, and playing with them.

But I always get too hot and want to sleep -- which you can't do with children running around; I can't swim, so that's a huge barrier; it's impossible to read on the beach with kids or even listen to your iPod (you have to have all senses on high alert). So I'm never really sure what to do with myself while there for hours on end.

I guess just play with the kiddos? Which is fine; this trip is for them, after all. But I always feel like I'm play-acting at being a beach-goer. It doesn't come natural.

Also, I always end up feeling a little helter-skelter keeping up with all the things you have to drag to the beach: towels, toys, coolers, snacks, sunglasses, sunscreen, something for the trash, something for the wet items, beach shoes, books, magazines, etc. And I am a total nervous Nelly, worried sick all the time that someone is going to drown. Even if we're just playing around the edge of the water, I still drive myself crazy worrying that a child will get stung by a jellyfish, bitten by some sea creature, cut his foot on a sea shell, etc.  It all makes me a little bit crazy, if I'm just being perfectly honest.

And also, can I just say, sunscreen on black skin?? ANNOYING as hell. It never rubs in all the way, leaving us cloaked in a ghostly-pale-purple sheen. We look ridiculous. (I'm just sayin'...)

But I know that kids the world over LOVE the beach.

For months after I took my eldest nephew some years ago to the beach, he talked about it and talked about it. Once in the car -- maybe two years later -- he said to me, randomly and apropos of nothing, "Auntie Tika, remember that time you took us to the beach? That was the best. day. ever."

Me, my niece Aminah and my nephew Kalonji at the beach in 2007. These kids had never been happier!

I will never forget that. So I want my boys to have happy memories of summer visits to the beach, even if it's not my absolute favorite thing.

I just wish I had done something -- anything -- to prepare before now, so that the lead-up to the restful, relaxing beach trip wouldn't be quite so exhausting.

Artscape weekend!

Baltimore has a fabulous free art festival every year called Artscape. Since having children, I have yet to get to go.

So this year, I was determined we were going as a family! And maybe we could even buy some art!

You know what they say about the best laid plans??

It rained on Friday and poured like nobody's business on Saturday. So we skipped the festival and decided we'd go on Sunday (the last day) instead. And apparently everyone in all of Maryland had the same idea, because it was packed!!!

Trying to push a single stroller and a double stroller through the wall of people was slow-going to say the least. And once it stopped raining, it was muggy and moist, which made Lester not a very happy camper.
There was no way to see any of the art, because of the crowds, nor could we really stop and listen to any musical acts.

So...all we did was eat. We stopped and got the boys (and me) hot dogs and French fries. That held them till we got to the end of the festival, where they had a kids' tent. Once there, we got them soft serve -- with sprinkles!

When one ice cream scoop costs $4.50 (!!!!) and the sprinkles cost $1(!!!), you buy one bowl and split it between the two boys. This is why I always carry two snack bowls and two sporks.

They loved playing on easels, and in a fountain of water, but they refused to play at the giant Lego table or at any of the crafts tables. The face-painting station was closing by the time we got to it; same for the balloon-making station. Cary found a crayon lying on the grass and inexplicably turned to a woman sitting on a low bench and WROTE ON HER WHITE DRESS!!!! (Yeah, I don't even know what to say about that...)

Markers!!! Sweeeeeeet!

We tried to find our friends Antwyne and Mari (Antony's parents) who were somewhere in the crowd, but no luck. A man was taking artistic, black-n-white Polaroids of festival-goers and I wanted a family shot, but Lester (cranky and tired by this point) vetoed the idea.

Like I said, best laid plans.

Actually, I'm making it sound worse than it was. It was a beautiful day, and good just to be out of the house, among the people, eating junk, people-watching and living life. The boys weren't at all cranky and Clair was as content as could be in her stroller. She even fell asleep (which is new for me. Cary and Dean would NEVER do that)! We had rock star parking, and when I got home, I didn't have to fix dinner or clean up dinner dishes. YES!


And, even though I didn't get to buy any of the beautiful art, I ended up winning the mother-of-the-day award by stopping and buying $1 light-up rings from two homeless guys selling junk out of a stolen shopping cart on the street. Cary and Dean LOVE their rings so much, Dean cried crocodile tears when we told him he couldn't bathe with it or sleep with it, and when he woke up this morning, the first thing out of his mouth was, "I want my ring!!!"

So, all's well that ends well, eh?

And...I took my own damn black-n-white photo of the kids. So there.

It only took 5 months to get 1 successful iPhone photo of all 3 Davis children! Now, to get one of them all smiling at the same time!!

Lessons learned about solo parenting

Wednesday night, Lester had an event to attend after work, so I was home alone with the kiddos.

As most parents know, evenings are often the hardest time. In addition to kids having had enough of the all-day-long-ness of the day, they're hungry, tired, (if you're working parents) they've missed you and act the fool when you get home, etc. Add to that the fact that there are things that need to be done: dinner, dishes, bathtime, bedtime, etc. and you have a recipe for defiance and meltdowns.

We'd gotten to a place where the evening routine was pretty uneventful, but then we had a third baby. And that just blew the routine to pieces. Clair needs feeding just when it's time to get dinner on the table for the boys. And she's really tired and really irritable and wants to be held just when the boys have had quite enough of dinner.

That means I only have one hand (at best) to stop the cranky twins from tossing food over the sides of their trays, pouring their milk out into their plates, putting food in their hair, you name it. There's an inordinate amount of whining and obstinance, and getting up the stairs for bathtime takes twice as long as it should.

Once up the stairs, Clair refuses to be put down during the boys bath/pajamas/storytime, etc. so it's almost impossible to do that whole song-and-dance without a second adult to help. The few times either of us have done the post-dinner bath/pajamas/story etc. alone have all ended with Clair screaming bloody murder in her crib. Once, she even threw up, she was screaming so much.

So Wednesday night, I decided things had to be done differently. In short, I knew I had to PREPARE, ANTICIPATE, DEVIATE and BE FIRM.

I came home 20 minutes early from work, so that I'd have a few minutes before Michelle left for the day to prepare. PREPARATION is key, I am learning (the hard way). There's almost no substitute for it.

I put the boys' dinner together and put it in the microwave, filled their cups with water, set the table with their plates and utensils. I brought their pajamas and night diapers downstairs, and laid out on my bed Clair's pajamas and diaper for after her bath. This way, when it was time for dinner, all I had to do was push the start button on the microwave and scoop the food on their plates. And I could do that with Clair in my arms (thus, no crying). We played and  read books and at 6:30 sharp, I started the dinner process.

While the boys ate, I sat in the dining room with them, and fed Clair the last of her 4 p.m. bottle. And instead of lingering at the table after dinner, like we often do, I ANTICIPATED the boys' mood-shifts. So as soon as the eating started waning and the shenanigans started picking up, I quickly moved the boys' dinner plates and cups, preventing any over-the-top craziness.

Because Clair had been fed and held, she was in a good mood. So after dinner, I let her play on her activity mat, while the boys jumped around and got their sillies out, and I quickly washed up their dishes, wiped the table, trays and counters, swept the floor and straightened up.

By this time (about 7:15), Clair was running out of patience with Tummy Time. So I put her in her swing while I sat on the floor in the living room and got the boys dressed for the night.

Notice one key thing: no bath.

With three kids, usually a schedule is a lifesaver. With three kids, two of whom are twins and one of whom is an infant, the schedule often is King. But I had to face facts. Right now, while Clair's so young and still needs a lot of TLC in the evenings, there's no way to easily bathe the boys and keep her happy -- when by yourself. So I decided to DEVIATE from the routine and skip bathtime. After all, these kids are playing in the house most of the day. Let's be real: They ain't that dirty. 

In her swing, Clair cooed herself into a little snooze, which I'd normally freak out about because she is supposed to go to bed for the night at 8:30. But I needed this deviation to have time to deal with sleepy, wriggly, giggly boys who think it's fun to run from you, naked, and throw their pajama bottoms over the baby gate. I woke her up right after brushing the boys' teeth, so she got about a 20-minute power nap. And it actually made her quite pleasant.

In their beds (finally at 7:45), I read a story while the boys jumped around in their cribs and Clair laughed hysterically at them (she literally shrieks with laughter at their antics). Then I GOT FIRM with the boys and told them that Daddy wasn't home and Mommy was alone and had to give Clair a bath and give her a bottle and get her to bed, too. There was no one who was going to be able to come back in their room a thousand times. Whatever it was they needed, say it now, or go without. Blanket on? Blanket off? Monkey? Puppy? Get your kisses now, kids, 'cause I AIN'T coming back.

At 8:05, I bathed Clair, gave her her bottle, went back into the boys' room twice (raised my voice the final time and all went silent), held her while she sucked on her pacifier, and put her down in her bed, knocked out and peaceful, at 8:45.

The kitchen was clean. The kids were asleep. Lester came home and brought me back a chocolate dessert from his event (oh yeah!!) and everything was just dandy!

Hands down, one of the best nights alone with all three kids since Clair was born.

I know they won't always be this smooth, but I think I've learned some lessons that will help us all on nights of solo-parenting. So at the very least, we have some tools to use  -- at least for as long as Clair will curl up in a little ball and sleep sweetly in her baby swing.

After that? Who knows.

Pride, the paper and popped peas

Reason No. 3,247 why having kids is maddening and humbling all at the same time:

One minute, you catch your 2-year-old boys doing this -- taking a Legos break to "read" the NYT magazine, curled up on the sofa like they actually have a clue about what they're doing.

Dean: "You know, even if Mitt Romney didn't approve off-shoring jobs in companies controlled by Bain Capital, you know that $&*@$ would have." Cary: "Word."

The scene is so endearing and pride-inducing, you're like, "Yes, I rock this parenting thing. Holla!"

Ten minutes later, at the dinner table, they're refusing to eat and, instead, are squeezing the peas in their mixed vegetable medley, saying, "I popped it!"
And giggling uncontrollably.
Oh, and then hurling the popped peas across the dining room table.

Awesome.

And the NYT? Here's what's come of it:

Lesson here: Don't get too smug, folks. Lest you get smacked in the head with a "popped" pea.

Poor Lester, father of a daughter

Lester sent this Nas video to me this week. It's called "Daughters."

Poor guy; Clair's just 5-months-old and already he is feeling it, big time.

He told me this weekend (with a hopeful glint in his eye) that "maybe Clair will decide to be a nun."

So I said to him, "Honey, you don't even want that for her. You want her to have someone in her life who loves her the way you love me."

And he said, "Yes. Jesus."

Sigh.

Potty training problems already

Lester and I are having a ...disagreement...(ahem)....about potty training.

We had all three of us (Michelle, too) sorta given up on working the potty into the daily routine, because once Dean saw what happens when he sat on it (i.e. pieces of his insides came OUT!) he flat out refused to sit on it anymore. And Cary pretty much followed suit.
 
But we still talked about the potty; every time we changed them, we would say, "Hmmm. You pee-peed (or poo-pooed) in your diaper. Does pee-pee go in your diaper? Nooooo. Where does pee-pee go? (They'd say, excitedly, "In the potty!!!) That's right! Pee-pee goes in the potty or in the toilet. Not in your diaper. OK? So when you feel like you have to go pee-pee, you tell an adult and we'll help you put the pee-pee in the potty. OK?"

Every time, we did this. Nothing ever changed. But we did it, anyway.

But here lately, Cary has been asking - no, whining incessantly - to go to the potty, coincidentally just when we've put him to bed, either for naps or for the night. One time, when I was home alone, I put him on the potty because he was near tears, whining that he had to go poo-poo, right this second. But even after sitting him on the potty for the duration of two long books (which also meant I had to get a furious Dean out of bed, too, to sit with him), nothing happened. Not one thing.  It took a full half-hour to get them back up the stairs and in the bed. And Lester swore I was being played.


"How'd you let the 2-year-olds play you like that?" he asked me, repeatedly. He found this hilarious.


Since then, whenever Cary cries that he has to pee or poop and wants to sit on the potty, Lester refuses to let him out of the crib. He tells him, "Just pee in your diaper." He believes the 2-year-old merely wants to extend his bedtime or naptime. And Lester won't be played! No, sir!


But I think this is highly counter-productive. Cary may or may not actually have to go to the potty. But if he says he has to, I think we have to put him on it. Each and every time he says it. Even if it's at bedtime or naptime or if it's inconvenient or whatever. Otherwise, what message are we sending?

And also, I don't think he's being manipulative. I think he really does feel the urge to pee or poop when he says he does, and that by the time he gets down to the potty, the urge has subsided, or he's changed his mind or gotten distracted or something related to him being TWO.


I think we need to make a solid decision to start the potty-training in earnest, and not be so laissez-faire about it, especially since Cary is asking to go. And when Dean sees Cary up and on the potty, he will sit on it, for a few minutes anyway, before wandering off to do something else. But at least that's something.


So it's a start, right? And we have to start somewhere.


I don't know. I know potty training is a winding and treacherous cross-country journey, not a sprint, but it is already confounding me. And we haven't even really started it yet. ARGH!
Advice, please!!

Bringing the big boys to the table

In anticipation of starting to introduce some solid foods, we bought a highchair for Clair this weekend.

Whenever we decide to take it out of the box (Ha!), this will mean we will have three high chairs in the dining room. The good news is, we use the space-saver chairs, but still, that's a lot of high chairs!

To help the boys start the transition OUT of high chairs, so we can get to a point in our lifetime where we're getting rid of all the equipment taking over our house, I bought the boys real plates, (as opposed to sectioned baby plates). But the darn square-shaped plates don't fit on their high chair trays, so we have to take the trays off, push the chairs up to the table and feed them there, like big boys!

Seeing them there like that cracks me up! Who are those big boys??

Of the yogurt, tilapia, blueberries and carrots, my children ate yogurt and blueberries. Maybe a couple carrots. And Cary only ate half his yogurt, prompting Dean to say, "I want Cary's yogurt." So he ate Cary's yogurt too.

It also means they now get food all over the table -- even all on the sides of the table and the table legs, which I have NO idea how they do that -- and clean-up is not nearly as quick.

But, we gotta start somewhere, right?

P.S. Happy 5-months-birthday, Clair!!

Surprise Date! (and thoughts on marriage)

Yesterday at 4:30,  Lester called and asked me if I wanted to go out on a date.
Sure, I said. When?
Now, he said.

Huh?!

Turns out my honey had already made arrangements with Michelle to stay a little late, and he was on his way to my office to pick me up. Talk about surprised! I love how Lester still courts me. It's very sweet!

We went to a wine bar in Harbor East, had appetizers, drinks and salted pretzel ice cream (surprisingly yummy!) and then walked around the neighborhood, going in and out of stores looking at beautiful merchandise we can't afford, holding hands and enjoying the beautiful weather.

Then we ended up at a restaurant at the new Four Seasons hotel called Wit and Wisdom, which I think is a totally cool name for a restaurant. We sat in the bar area, in a little nook facing the water, and ate lobster corn dogs and just talked.

Lobster corn dogs!

It was unbelievably lovely.

We were home by 8:30 p.m. and even though I really, really missed getting to say goodnight to my littlest sweeties, I was so happy to get to spend a little adult time out and about with my original sweetie.

As parents, you sacrifice a lot to raise children. Some people might grumble about it, but we (mostly) do it happily (mostly). We wanted these children. We prayed for them. So if it means our evenings and weekends consist of Legos, reading, meals, bath and bedtime (plus some screaming, crying and whining) every single night for months and months on end, then so be it. No, we're not living la vida loca like celebrity housewives up in here, but we are living la vida feliz. And we know how blessed we are to be able to do it.

But that doesn't mean that we don't get to have time to ourselves. And in fact, keeping our marriage strong is just as important to the health and happiness of our children as anything else we do. Maybe even more so.

Lester and I are firm believers that we didn't become a family when we had the kids. We already were a family, and a darn good one, before they came. The kids added to our family, and boy are we lucky we got the awesome additions we did. But when those babies grow up and move on and get families of their own, it'll be me and Lester left behind, just the two of us.

And when that day comes, if we keep pouring into our marriage, hopefully we'll be just as in love as we were in 2007 when we said "We do."



Occasional evenings like last night help make sure that we still do.

Needles and swings

Yesterday, Clair had her 4-month-appointment (even though she'll be 5 months on the 16th).

She weighs 14 lbs., 12 oz. and is 26.5 inches tall (long)!

Dr. Bodnar declared her excellent in every way. And he said we can start trying a little rice cereal around 5 months, if we want. He wasn't at all concerned that she eats less than most babies her age (only about 22-24 ounces a day, as opposed to 28), but he did say if we started cereal to be sure not to let her fill up on it, so that she gets most of her nutrients from her bottles. So, I think we'll start in a couple weeks to see if her bottle-consumption picks up any before then.

She also got her shots, and she only cried a little bit, and even then, only after the 2nd needle stick. The first one, she barely registered.

I think my kids must be pretty hardy, because yesterday I also took the boys to get their second lead test (in Baltimore city, kids are required to get one lead test, but the school we're sending them to in the fall requires a second) and neither one of them cried either. I was sure there would be tears, because they have to draw blood from the inner arm, which always makes me cringe. But they were very stoic, and mostly just wanted to know when they were going to get their Band-aid.

In fact, after Cary came from getting his blood drawn, he went straight to the waiting room and said to Dean, "Look Deanie. I have a Band-aid!" And then Dean, who had at one point been gearing up to protest going back with the phlebotomist, quickly changed his tune. "Mommy!" he said, urgently. "I want a Band-aid, too!!"

So we went back and got one. No fuss, no tears. It was great.

See my Band-aid, Mommy? Mommy, I have a Band-aid. Mommy, I have a green Band-aid. The doctor gave me a Band-aid. Mommy? Mommy? Mommy!!!

Afterward, I took them to the park, to reward them for being such brave boys. This was a particularly good visit to the park, because I actually got them to SMILE. Faithful readers will know what a feat this is with my two boys. The concept of smiling while actually doing something fun? Totally foreign to them. 

Cary refused to show off his Band-aid for the camera. But I managed to sneak a picture while he was getting "milch" out of his shoe.

Clair's Band-aid is hidden behind her polka-dot pants.

 

My brood nearly takes up the entire swing set. Good grief.

When we got home from the park, Lester had finished dinner and had it ready for the boys. He even put some aside for their lunch the next day, so I wouldn't have to do that after Clair went to sleep. What an awesome Dad!

Oh, and I got asked to be on the board of an organization I really admire: The Baltimore Urban Debate League. I'm quite flattered and excited to help them with their important work.

So, yay! All in all, a very, very good day. Now, we wait for the results of the lead test. (I hate waiting.)

Sigh...

We spent this weekend at my Mom's house, to escape our barely-coolish house (in the middle of a heat wave) and let the boys jump around in the sprinklers with their cousins.

It was a really great weekend. The boys had fun, had their fill of juiceboxes, saw fireworks for the first time at my Granddad's house, played and played and played with Russy, and were completely exhausted by Sunday afternoon. So all in all, a wonderful visit!

So what's the "sigh" about?

While we were there, my mother playfully chided us for having Clair always looking so "unisex." She's usually in very girly clothes, so she was somewhat talking about our (unpopular) decision to leave her earring-less, and also she meant Clair's hair, which I tend to leave loose, like a little curly 'fro. I like barrettes and hair things on girls, but she's not yet 5 months old. I figured she doesn't need them everyday, or even most of the time!

Anyway, Mom took it upon herself to style Clair's hair. And it really does look super cute:

If you look closely, you can see Matthew sleeping on Clair's activity mat in the background. Hiiii, Matty-Matt!

Lester hates all the barrettes. He thinks she looks too done-up, and that my family is in an inexplicable hurry to adorn his daughter, growing her up much faster than she needs to. He thinks she has plenty of time to be gussied up and that she should just look like a baby.

I think she is adorable all the time, with and without adornment. So I'm torn.

Then, yesterday, my neighbor told me he thinks Clair looks "just like Lester." Really??? This was just after a friend of his took a look at Clair in her bouncy chair, wearing a blue onesie with white-and-yellow flowers on it, and asked, "How old is Little Man over there?"

Little Man??

Looks like Lester??

Unisex?

I swear, I swear, I swear I don't want to be one of those silly parents who puts huge bows on her kid's head and dresses her in flouncy tutus and pink everything. But I had no idea when I was carrying her how much it would bother me that people don't think she looks like a girl all on her very own.

Why do I feel the need to decorate my daughter??? I'm fighting it, people. I really am.

But I have to admit, it's harder than I thought.

Friday photo!

Was it Show Me the Mommy Sunday or Show Me the Mommy Friday?

I can't remember. (Big surprise there!)

Either way, here's me and my Clairzee, after dinner. She's stealing a snooze; I'm stealing a snuggle.

Love!

Life is perfect.

Celebrating the 4th in a truly American way: Being Lazy and Eating Brownies

We had a lazy, lazy Fourth of July holiday, just hanging around the house, barely getting out of our PJs,  reading, building things with Legos and jumping around on the sofa, giggling. (Some of us older members of the Davis family did not participate in that last part...)

I figured out how to get Dean to smile. Instead of, "Say Cheese!" I say, "Say, leaf-blower!" For some reason, he thinks "leaf-blower" is a hilarious word.

Same for Cary. Except his funny word is "weedwhacker."

Beth gave the boys "Go, Dog, Go!" when she came to visit us back in February. It remains a daily favorite.

Watch out for Clair!!! (I must say that a thousand times a day.) If this baby turns out to be a prissy, dainty thing, I won't have any idea how. Not with these two ruffians constantly pummeling her.

 I also made brownies and let the boys sample them, warm from the oven, before bedtime. Sugary treats are just that -- treats -- at our house, so this was a big deal. I'm pretty sure the Fourth of July is now officially my kids' favorite holiday. Even though they have no idea what fireworks even are. 


And Clair, who had already shown she could roll from tummy to back (at night, mostly, while she is supposed to be sleeping) mastered the back-to-tummy roll, too. Here's a little video Michelle caught of her the day before the holiday. My favorite part is when the boys say, "Yayyy!"
Sibling support is so awesome!

Speaking of Clair, I took this picture of her, which reminded me of photos of myself when I was a baby.

 
So I went searching for a baby pic to see if I was right, but this one was all I could find.

Do you see a resemblance? It's a really poor quality pic of me, I know...but I can sorta see it...

I was 9 months old in this picture, so maybe I'll do this again when Clair's a little older. I'll style her hair like mine and everything. (P.S. You can't tell from the photo, but not only do I have on little gold earrings, I also have on bangles! My family is serious about the baby jewelry, so you can only imagine the reaction when I told them we'd decided not to get her ears pierced. MAMMA Mia!!)

Happy Fourth of July (a day late)!!!

Crazy heat wave; crazy summer storms

This weekend, we had crazy, crazy storms, that left a ton of people without power (still!) and downed trees, closed roads and generally made everything a wholesale mess.

Friday night, it rained so furiously, water was finding its way underneath our roof shingles, allowing rain to drip into our attic. The rain was coming in sideways so forcefully, it even pushed water into our basement -- through tiny, imperceptible cracks in a high wall.

We never lost power for long, and thank God we didn't, because this series of storms coincided with an unrelenting heat wave. It's been 100+ degrees here for the past several days. Since our AC still isn't fixed, we made do with borrowed window units that whirred loudly and cooled the air just enough for us to not be entirely miserable.

Other folks have not been so lucky. Stores have been closed for days because of lost power. Roads are closed. Some people are being told they won't get power back for a week or more! My boss said he and his wife were so desperate to get out of their dark, hot house yesterday, they actually went to see "Magic Mike" at the movies. If you knew my boss and his wife, you'd know how incredible that is -- and you'd understand, then, that we have surely come to the Apocalypse.

Last night, another thunderous storm barreled down on us, waking me from a semi-good sleep. I was worried about the roof, and the cracks in the basement wall. And I worried the children would be awakened by the racket. But my three slept through it all, peacefully, and aside from needing lots of water all day long, and sweating through their clothes at naptime, they seem completely unaware of the craziness going on around them.

What a tremendous gift, youth. Oblivious to the ramifications of leaky roofs, broken air conditioners, downed trees, oppressive heat waves and noisy storms, their lives are unaffected by the wrath of Mother Nature and the fallibility of modern technology. 

Shirtless, they played all weekend, read, laughed and loved -- and reminded Lester and me that none of what was going on was really all that bad.

We were safe. We were hot, but not miserable. We had all the things we really needed (food, water, a million books to read). And, most of all, we were together.