My husband is warping my son's mind.

This is a conversation I just had with Izzy:

Izzy: Mom, I'm starving!

Me: No you're not. You just ate two bowls of cereal.

Izzy: (Sits quiet for a minute or two) Will you make daddy dinner tonight?

Me: What?

Izzy: Will you make daddy dinner tonight?

Me: Of course I will.

Izzy: (Said is a sing-song voice) Daddy sure loves dinner!

Me: (Rolls eyes)

This is dedicated to Crystal.

A few years ago, long before Izzy was born, Crystal lived with me and Chris for a few months. Or maybe a few weeks. I can't really remember. But I do remember that she would come home and we'd all sit around trying to decide what we wanted for dinner until Chris and I would end up eating a sandwich, or our usual, a bowl of cereal. It drove Crystal NUTS. After a while, she started cooking dinner most evenings just because we irritated her so badly by taking so long to decide.

Flash forward to last night. I hadn't fixed any dinner because I thought our realtor was going to show up at any minute to talk over the offers and I didn't want to have it get cold or have to be cooking while he and Chris talked (ended up talking it over on the phone, so it was a moot point anyways).

Chris and I are talking and we notice Izzy busying himself in the dining room. He has brought a bowl of plain leftover penne and put it on the table, along with a bag of deli turkey, a bag of deli salami, a handful of snack cheese squares, and four bananas. He put four spoons in the bowl of pasta and put four forks on the table, then he called us all in to dinner!!

He carefully made us all sandwiches of wheat bread with a slice of salami, a little bit of turkey, and a single noodle.

It was honestly one of the cutest things I've ever seen. He's a really sweet, thoughtful and hungry little guy.

Tonight I again didn't fix dinner because the realtor was actually on his way (papers signed and it's all official now!!!) so Izzy excitedly ran up to me when he got hungry and said, "Hey mom, do you remember that delicious dinner we had last night? Can we have that again??" He was so sweet and earnest - it was adorable. But instead I fed him a blueberry bagel, a rice cake, a banana, and a bag of Yogos to keep him and Sophie quiet while we went over the paperwork with our realtor. But don't worry, I went out when the realtor left and picked him up a kid's meal. A great kid like him deserves a treat every now and then, right?

Preschool: Take Two!

Right before we left for Florida, I called around to put Izzy on some preschool waiting lists, and lo and behold, one of them actually had a spot. So today I packed his little snack bag with a juice, cheese, and raisins, I put a Ziploc baggie filled with a change of clothes back into his Spiderman backpack, dressed him in his new red sweater and we headed back through the doors of formal education.

The teachers were all happy to see him today and they are warm and loving, just what I wanted to see in a preschool teacher. We hung around for a few minutes, then Chris and I both gave him a hug and told him we loved him, and he told us bye and he loved us too, very nonchalantly. I stepped back and took a few pictures and he looked up and smiled at me and shook his head up and down, like he was saying everything was good. I shook my head back and told him to have a good day, and he said, "I will, Mommy!"


When pick up time rolled around, we all lined up and waited. After a few minutes, the teachers opened the door and asked if Isaac’s mommy was there and when I stepped forward, they asked if I could come on in. My heart sank. I went in and I nearly swooned with relief when they told me that he needed bathroom help and wouldn't do it himself - apparently it's their policy that the teachers are not allowed to help with...toilet paper issues, let's call it. I peeked around the door and he was standing there expectantly with a piece of toilet paper in his hand, poor little guy! Not to mention poor teachers - again, let's be vague and say they were likely rather surprised. What a way to make a first impression, huh?

He has three teachers - Ms. Reba is the main one, Ms. Patches apparently does the "schoolwork" type stuff, and Ms. Emily is the art teacher. They rotate, in three groups, from room to room during the morning, which I think will be really good for Izzy. But school was out all of last week due to snow (they cancel when the county cancels or has a delay) so by the time Izzy’s group reached the work group at the end of the morning, all of the kids were a bit antsy. I LOVED that they were so quick to make sure that I knew Izzy was not an aberration.

He did, however, do the same thing as he did at the other preschool, which is to get angry when he can't hold a pencil/crayon right and refuse to keep trying. Yep, he pushed his papers on his desk again. I did cringe when they told me that, but I guess that it's a bigger issue than I realize since he's had two schools complain about it now. But they were quick to tell me that they think he'll adjust quickly and that he was very good and listened well until that last activity.

I'm chalking this up to a huge success, and I can't wait to see how he does Wednesday. The difference between how I felt walking out of this preschool and the first one is worlds apart. I really do think this is where Izzy will thrive. If anyone has a great tip for getting him to hold his pencil/crayon/pen right, drop me a line, okay?

Did you miss me??

Hang in there, my faithful readers, I swear I've not forsaken you!! I have, however, been sunning my buns in Florida. We made a trip down to see the in-laws and had a blast. They did their best to show us a great time, and we had one. Of course, if I never see another crime show again, it'll be too soon...but I digress. The kids were unbelievably good on the drive down AND the drive back! Izzy was really sick for a couple of days before we left, so all the way there we kept shoving a little bucket in the poor kids face every time he coughed, and he'd sweetly say, "No thank you." He was a little trooper. Sophie slept in a twin bed in the same room as Izzy, in his own twin bed, and she slept through the night most every night, which, as anyone who frequents this blog knows, is pretty daggone close to a miracle.

Here's some pics of our lovely vacation:











We made a lot of great memories on this trip (captured by 650 photographs and several videos) and that's what a good vacation is made of. We're awfully lucky that Chris's parents not only wanted us there, but were sad to see us go. We were sad to leave as well. I have now officially entered the waiting-for-next-year's-vacation mode. It's going to be a loooong year!

This sweet boy of mine.

You know, so far I've loved every stage of my kids lives. No, really I have. I love the tiny baby stage when their whole body nestles in your arms so perfectly. I love those first smiles when they really start trying to engage you. I even love the burgeoning independence that Sophie is working out right now, and I love it when she comes back for reassurance, nestling her sweet, wispy-haired head into the crook of my neck.

But this three and half year old stage is really wonderful, maybe even my favorite. Izzy is so earnest and sweet, and desperate to make us happy. Yes, it has also been a very difficult age, but I'm not going there in this post. There's been enough of that lately, right?

Today, as I was folding laundry on the bed, he came up and carefully climbed over the piles, slightly messing up a couple of them. "Oh, I'm sorry mom. Here let me fix that," he said as he straightened up a washcloth. He curled up beside me, smiled, and leaned over for a tight hug saying, "Let me give you a hug!" I happily complied. He looked up at me mid-hug, those big blue eyes shining and said, "I sure do love you!" I told him that I sure did love him too.

Then he asked if he could help me fold. I said sure, so he very carefully misfolded and wadded up many pieces of laundry. Then he made a mountain out of them, so I told him that laundry folding time was over and I pulled him up on my lap and told him a story. Afterwards, he said, "Is it bedtime now? Goodnight, then," and he ran out the door to head to bed.

It amazes me how much he's grown up in the last month. I've been working on a new, very consistent method of discipline with him, where I ask him to do something, if he doesn't do it, he has till I count to three, and if he hasn't started it by three, it's off to time-out for a couple of minutes. A couple of days have gone by lately where I haven't had to use time out at all. It's wonderful, seriously. My had has complimented his behavior to me a couple of times lately too. He's tough on him, so knowing that even dad can see how much Izzy has grown up helped me to make a big decision: I've enrolled him again in preschool. I'm a little nervous, but not too much so.

I've talked to the preschool director a couple of times and I think this is going to be a MUCH better match for Izzy than the other one, not to mention that now I feel that Izzy is ready to go, and I didn't feel that last time. Unfortunately, I was right.

So back to the story I told him tonight. It was about a little boy named Zane who once went to a preschool that wasn't much fun, but then he grew up and he started a new preschool that had really nice new teachers and Zane had such a good time. He stayed in his seat when he was supposed to, he did what the teachers said, and he had lots of fun with all of the other girls and boys. Izzy, who always knows these stories are about him, broke my heart then by saying, "What happened then? Did I turn bad again?" I hugged him and said that no, Zane had grown up into a big boy who was always a very good boy.

He understands so much more than we give him credit for. But there are still some things he doesn't quite get yet that creates lots of unintentional hilarity. Like when I went to fill out his registration and he met the church's pastor (it's another church preschool) who asked Izzy his name. Izzy said, "My friends call me Isaac." That is still making me laugh.

This is a great age. There are so many cute things he's doing and saying right now that it's hard for me to remember it all when I have a free minute to sit down here and type it out. (Right now it's 1:00 a.m.) For instance, today we ran into K-mart for a few minutes and as we quickly passed by a man in the aisle, Izzy said to him, "Excuse us!" Or how he just got up a few minutes ago to pee and he ran in here and asked me first, "May I please go to the bathroom?" I told him of course he could, and that he never had to ask me first. I'm sure this has come from us trying to get him to say in public, "May I please go to the bathroom?," instead of, "MOM! I need to POO-POO!!!" It goes back again to him trying so hard to do the right thing, so now he's asking very politely every time.

He's a really great kid. I hope this preschool is able to see that too. We'll find out shortly - we're headed to Florida to visit Chris's parents next week, and the next Monday Izzy will head back to preschool. One good thing about this preschool is that the director has been there for 17 years, and she said they've never asked a kid to not come back. When I told mom that, she said, "Oh Lord, I hope Izzy's not the first!" We then shared a good laugh...but oh, Lord, do I ever hope he's not.

Quickie Update

Sophie is feeling much better, but she sounds really hoarse today, and she just looks a little peaked and skinny to me. But she's most definitely on the upswing. Tonight, she ran in and crawled in her bed and pulled her covers up to her chin, while I was cleaning out her closet. Izzy went over and bent down to her and said, "I know, baby. I'm sorry you're so sick." Then he gently patted her. Izzy really is an awesome big brother. Sophie think so too:

Sick baby update.

Doctor called tonight and it's pnuemonia. *SUPER BIG SIGH* What really sucks is that this really supports the asthma diagnosis, because every cold and virus ending up as pnuemonia in a toddler is the number one symptom. She's feeling pretty crappy tonight, so here's to a better tomorrow, right?

A quick funny about Izzy: I'd already brushed his teeth the other night when he wanted a drink of juice. I told him fine, but he'd have to brush his teeth again. He drank his juice then asked me, while I was getting Sophie in bed, "Mommy, can I go brush my teeth now?" Sure, I told him, knowing full well that his toothbrush has been moved to the top of the medicine cabinet to protect it from Sophie. I meet him in the hallway a few minutes later and I ask him, "Did you brush your teeth?" Yes, he told me, stretching his smile tight to show me all of his teeth. That's the first time he'd done that, so I obligingly laughed. Then I said, "I know you didn't brush your teeth yet, because your toothbrush is too high for you to get." Without missing a beat, he says, "Oh yeah, I used my finger," and he pantomines brushing his teeth with his finger. I crack up laughing, and as I walk him back to the bathroom with me, I ask him if he's lying. He smiles and says, "No!" Then I ask him, "Was that the truth or a lie?" "Lie," he says, smiling. Little turd.

I am EXHAUSTED.

First, my apologies for my unusual absence from blogging. We decided to really put our hearts and money into some minor renovations that will hopefully get this house FINALLY sold. We started this last weekend, because Chris was off Monday and Tuesday. We finished it late last night, and we're thrilled. There's still some trim to paint and what-not, but the major stuff is all complete. We started with ripping off the crappy old wallpaper in the dining room (well, painting it first with Kilz, and then ripping it off once it bubbled):


Then we painted it what I thought would be a medium grayish brown and ended up pewter (but I still love it!):


Then we moved on to the master bathroom. Here's the before:

And the after, which included a pale whitish purple paint on the walls, a new sinktop, painting the cabinet bright white and putting new hardware on it, and installing a new medicine cabinet and light fixtures:

Before I show you my next project, let me tell you what happened yesterday. Izzy was going to the bathroom while Chris was in the shower and as he tried to get the toilet paper out of the wicker tube (which I'd wedged in behind the etarge to keep Sophie from dragging it and the plunger all over the house) he accidentally pulled the whole thing over on himself. He was fine, but about $150-$200 worth of nick-knacks that I'd stored up on top of the etarge to keep safe *sigh* were not. Including the commemorative Blenko vase we'd bought when Sophie was born. *SIGH* Such is life.

On to the final room of our grand makeover week - the living room. Before:

And after:


The color for the living room is called Scroll Beige and it's a shade lighter than the "Fauna" in the dining room. Were I to do it over, I'd use it in the dining room, and get a shade lighter for the living room, only to make it appeal to more buyers. What REALLY sucks, is that is what I'd originally had the guy mix up, then I looked at the samples he'd rubbed on top of the can and decided they were too light. If I ever choose the perfect color, I might have a heart attack.

Anyhow, it looks so much better in here, and far more sophisticated. The darker, more formal colors help to ground our modern furnishings (i.e. green and purple sofa) so that they don't jump out at you quite as much. I really do think we'll sell much more easily now. I hope.

So let's flash to today now, why don't we? WHAT??? I don't blog for a week, then you go getting all huffy because I post a long one?? Just save the rest for later, then. Sheesh.

Anyhow, Sophie threw up twice last night (first time event for us) and then was lethargic today and wouldn't eat. Her body kept feeling hot, but our stupid piece of crap ear thermometer wasn't going above 99.9. After her nap, Chris got her and they just laid in a chair together for another hour. He told me she was a little hot, so I felt her, and she was burning up. Used the ear thermometer again - 102.8. I went and got the rectal thermometer and it was 104.1. I got pretty frantic, because she was so listless too, and her eyes looked terrible. By the time we got to the ER/Care Center 24 it was 104.4, and they took her straight back.

They gave her some more ibuprofen (it had been right over six hours since we'd given it to her, and three since she'd had Tylenol), put in an IV, took blood to culture, did a nasal swab for RSV and the flu, took chest x-rays (she has a horrible raspy cough) and CATHETERIZED her for a urine sample. After all of those horrible nasty tests and many, many hours, the doctor tells us she's negative for everything and her lungs look fine. By this point, her temp, which had dropped to 100, is back to 101.5 and climbing and she's listless again. He was leaning towards admitting her, but they called our ped. and he said to switch her antibiotic from amoxicillan to biaxin and take her on home. The asthma doctor put her on amoxicillan for a sinus infection, and she's been on it for about 10 days now.

By the time we get home, an hour and a half later, her temp is back to 103.8. Doc said as long as she's not out of it, not to bring her back. After today, I'm not looking to bring her back anytime soon anyways, thanks.

It's now 12:30 and she's due her next dose of Tylenol, so I'm off to try to grab a little shut eye with my hot little sweetie. The one who curled up on her own bed at midnight after coughing so hard in bed with Chris that she threw up a little bit. I gave her some cough syrup, but I hear her coughing as I type this. With any luck, she'll be feeling much better tomorrow, and I'll be able to finish the touch-ups on my projects. Cross your fingers for us!!

Asthma.

Asthma. A.S.T.H.M.A. Assssstttthhhhmmmmmaaaa. Nope, I don't like the way that sounds, no matter how I say it. But the asthma/allergy doctor today had no problem at all saying it when he told me Izzy and Sophie probably have it. This sucks.

I'm not trying to make a mountain out of a molehill here. I KNOW there are a million different diseases out there that would be far more devastating, and far harder to control. But no mom wants to hear that her kids are likely facing a lifetime of uneasy breathing. Of daily medications. Of doctors, and breathing treatments, and worry. Oh, the worry. It makes me sick just thinking about it.

Yep, this sucks. That about sums it all up.

Yes, I cleaned it up.

You know, motherhood is truly filled with so many moments of unintentional hilarity. Probably 20 or 30 times a day, something so wacky happens that I shake my and laugh, and think, "I have to remember to blog about that!" I always forget too, but still I think it.

But today I caught it on video. Right after breakfast, I sat down to check my e-mail as I do every morning right after breakfast, and Izzy takes his sister by the hand and starts walking her around the room. I asked him what he was doing, and he told me he was taking his baby cow home. Sophie was beaming up at him, and he was being so sweet and gentle, that I flipped my camera over to video. And this is what I caught:


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Hi, my name is Regular Girl.

The kids and I were playing in the floor of my bedroom the other day when Izzy reached up and touched my hair, stepped back and said, "Mommy you don't look like a mommy. You look like a regular girl."

I walked on air the rest of the day.

Quickie Pics

Here's a few recent pics that I've been meaning to share and haven't got around to doing so, so here you go. There's Sophie looking at her first snowflakes this year, Izzy playing at the park recently, and how I found Sophie sleeping a few weeks ago. Hope you enjoy them!

Plague and Christmas Updates

I feel like crap. I feel 10 times worse than yesterday, but better than the day before. I hope I completely kick this stupid bug tonight. It's wiping me out.

Izzy seems to be much better today - he didn't complain too much until it was bedtime and he wanted to sleep in my bed again. (Didn't work.) Sophie is definitely getting pink-eye in at least one eye and her cough has become much worse. What a weekend. Guess we're lucky to have made it through Christmas healthy, at least.

Speaking of which, we had a wonderful Christmas. Every Santa Izzy saw over the holidays, he’s asked for socks for Christmas. That’s it, just socks. He modified it to flowered socks for the last Santa. When Santa asked why, Izzy said, “Because I like socks.” Chris and I were afraid one of them might call CPS on us for not buying the kid his basic necessities.

Flash forward to Chris’s aunt’s house on Saturday night, the 23rd, where they have a Santa who brings a sack with a gift in it for each child (that Chris’s aunt and uncle have bought). Santa handed Izzy his gift and as he unwrapped it, he saw purple flowered SpongeBob socks. Izzy clutched the package tightly to his chest and said, “Santa, thank you! It’s exactly what I wanted!”
He looked at them again, then threw his arms around Santa and gave him a huge hug. He took them out of the package and held them in his hands for a second, and looked so sincere and said, “Thank you, Santa. I really like them.” He was so sweet and earnest that I couldn’t help but get all teary. Izzy then sat down and took his shoes off and put on his cool new socks.

We’ll never again be able to make him so completely and utterly thrilled with a Christmas present. It was truly magical. It was all-around a magical Christmas.

Pretty much everything was lost on Sophie, but she along with the flow and had a great time playing with all of her presents. Even better, both of the kids were really good probably 95% of the time, which is AMAZING for these two. Izzy remembered to thank people as well, although Santa got most of the credit.

Today he was laying on the bed with me and he told me he had a secret to tell me, about Santa. What was it, I inquired. "Santa bring me flowered socks and a robot and it made me so happy. It was just what I wanted." He's a great kid. Sophie is a great kid too. I am beyond blessed to have two such groovy kids.

We've been hit with the plague.

I feel like crap, Izzy feels even worse and has pink-eye to boot, and now Sophie is getting pink-eye as well. Luckily for us, Chris was on vacation yesterday and today. Not so luckily for Chris, of course. I'm feeling a bit better today than yesterday, but worse right now than I did all day.

Poor Izzy is suffering mightily. He has his first sore throat, and the doctor said (via phone, no appointment available today) that it had settled in his eye and turned into conjunctivitis (pink eye). He also woke up last night crying with his ear hurting, which has turned into a bad ear infection judging from the amount of pain he's in. He lay in bed sobbing his heart out for an hour after we tucked him in. We kept going in there and checking on him, but he doesn't want us. The doctor called in eye drops, ear drops to numb the pain, amoxicillan, and he's on Triaminic for chest and cold congestion AND Tylenol for the pain. All that and the poor kid is still crying. He's breaking my heart.

I'll leave you with a couple of pictures of the saddest boy on earth (and my excuse for intermittent posting over the past couple, and next couple, of days):

This little light of mine.

Izzy is big into playing pretend right now, and he'll assign the characters. Lately, he's been Santa and Chris or I have been "Honey."

That's what we were playing this afternoon while I was folding laundry. He picked up one of Chris's black shirts and said, "Honey, would you button this for me?" He's getting pretty good with bigger buttons, but not so good on the small ones, especially with six inches of sleeve covering his fingers.

Once he was properly attired, he asked, in his impossibly cute "deep" Santa voice, "So, little girl, what do you want for Christmas?" I told him cheese. He told me he had to go look in his tent and he went over to where I'd laid the blanket over a chair while I was changing the sheets.

He rummaged around, then came back with his empty hands outstretched and said, "Here you go, little girl! Merry Christmas!" I thought this was the perfect time for a little lesson on manners, so I excitedly exclaimed, "Cheese! Oh, thank you Santa! This is exactly what I wanted! You just made me so happy!"

He is delighted at my reaction and he replies, "No, thank YOU!" He's such a doll sometimes. I pretend to be teaching him manners, but really, we're learning from him all the time.

Yesterday, as we turned the corner coming home from story time at the library, I saw the kids' PapPaw Mike pulling into our driveway. As I was getting Sophie in the house, Mike gave Izzy a huge bushel basket of fruit to carry in. He was stumbling in the house, mostly dragging it, and hollered, "I need a hand here!"

I helped him carry it on into the dining room, and I immediately washed up some grapes for the two of them. They're happily munching on the grapes while Mike and I are standing there talking, and Izzy beamed his sunny smile up at him and says, "Thank you so much for the fruit, PapPaw!" He can be a handful, and generally is, but he does have pretty good manners for a three-year old.

As a matter of fact, that same day my sister, whom Izzy calls Mimi, got here while Mike was still here. Izzy very excitedly went over and put his hand on Mike's arm, and said to Micki, "Mimi, I'd like you to meet my friend, PapPaw." How cute is that?? He might drive me nuts (a lot), but he sure is a sweetie, and he brightens my life immeasurably.

Day by day.

Izzy. What a kid. Three and a half is a very difficult age, but it's also a blast. There's so much going on inside that little head that I really think he just can't help but act like a nutzoid sometimes. The last few days have been very challenging with him.

For instance, as he was breaking his crayons in half yesterday, he'd snarl his face up at me and say, "Oh yeah? How 'bout THAT?," in a very wicked tone, one that struck that instant fury chord in me. He was just being a jerk, plain and simple, and we don't have any idea where he's heard anyone say something like before.

Tonight, he kept turning the dial on his light all the way up when Chris was trying to get him to go to bed. We leave the light on very, very dim until we go to bed and then flip it off. But tonight he wouldn't stop, so Chris unscrewed the round knob off it's little tiny screw. It wasn't ten seconds before Izzy had it back on and turned up all the way again.

He's always been pretty good with fine dexterity. Well, to a point that is. He does his buttons quite well now, but I CAN NOT get him to write a single letter. Actually, I can't get him to sit still long enough to watch me write a single "A," so I'm not too surprised he hasn't picked it up.

That's one of the things I think about when I'm trying to decide whether to find another preschool for him. He really wants some friends, and he's breaking my heart telling me that he's going to tell his friends, "Batman," "Spiderman," or the "butter" *sigh* on me. I wouldn't care to be tattled on, but not to a dairy product at least!

But I still don't think he's really ready for preschool. His behavior ranges from far better to far worse from where he was when he started the last one in September. Sometimes he's a really wonderful little guy to be around. But yesterday Chris and I were both in Izzy's room trying to reason with him as I sat in the floor picking up some of his toys, when I said, "If this is how he acted [in preschool] then I don't blame them for kicking him out." Seriously. I still think they went about it all wrong, but I can understand not wanting him there anymore if he acted out like he was yesterday. If his dad and I get so irritated with him that our heads nearly explode, imagine what he can do to people who don't know him, much less love him?

There's also a big part of me that can't stand to see our hearts broken again. Mine, Chris's, or Izzy's. Preschool was an awful experience for all of us. So I'm not sure I want to walk down that path again so soon. I need to look into other programs, but as of now I'm not aware of any in this area.

This is one of those very few times that I wish I had a nice boring little kid. One that I could just send off to preschool without a thought in the world. I hate having to worry about it like this. I also hate thinking that parents with quiet, well-behaved children think that their kids are like that due to their great parenting, and that Izzy is so wild due to my poor parenting. Although I would be more than happy to accept credit for his sweet, gentle, giving nature. :-)

This morning he woke up, stretched real big, looked over at me and smiled and said, "So what do you want for Christmas?" If he could control those wild impulses to make me happy, I know he would. I know that one day, he will.

Until then, cross your fingers for me.

More cuteness from Izzy.

Izzy has really been on a roll lately with being very sweet and endearing. I sooo hope he keeps moving in this direction. Makes him a lot easier to handle when he's bouncing off the walls like a lunatic.

We met Chris's mom and dad at Grazianos's tonight and Papaw Mike gave Izzy a few quarters that he used to buy a little plastic Care Bear. Long story short, Sophie ended up with it, so I begged some more quarters off the doting grandparents and Izzy bought himself another one. He was carrying it around in it's little plastic bauble and looking at all the toy machines when a cute little girl with long blond hair, looked to be about 5, but much shorter than Izzy, walked up and started turning the dials.

First she asked him if he had a quarter and Izzy turned his pockets inside out looking for one. "No, sorry, I got no more quarters," he tells her. I was walking towards them then, because with Izzy being as big as he is, we keep a close eye on him around other kids. Then she asks, "Can I have your Care Bear?" Izzy looks at his hand and back at her and I'm pretty sure he would have handed it to her, but evil mama stepped in and I told her, "No honey, that's his toy."

We walked back to the table and Izzy said, "But I want to buy a toy for my friend!" I saw another quarter hidden behind the machines, so I got it and gave it to Izzy and told him he could buy her a ball with it. He gets it and finds the little girl and proudly holds it out to her. She's clamoring after some quarters from her mom, so she only half pays attention to Izzy. He says, "Isn't it pretty?" But at this point, she's got the quarters, so he walked away with a new ball of his own.

We left the pizza parlor and headed out to do a little light Christmas shopping. I was pushing Izzy in the cart and he was yelling and carrying on when we rounded a corner and he saw a four or five month old baby sitting in a cart wearing a little white bonnet. Izzy said, "Oh, look, mommy, what a pretty baby." I agreed with him, then we paused for a second to look at her. Then as we started to walk away, he raised his voice to the little girl's parents, and said "You have a pretty baby!" Both of the young parents smiled and the mom said, "Thank you! You are a handsome little guy yourself!" I'm pretty sure that made their night, and I know it made mine. I hope Izzy never loses his gentle nature.

This sums up my life.

Izzy dumped out his box of coloring books and puzzles this morning, so after breakfast I told him he couldn't leave his room until he picked them all up. He whines and carries on a while, then he hollers for me, saying that he needs a little help now.

I go in there and there's only four or five more things that need put in the box, so I sit on Izzy's bed and tell him that I'll point to what else needs to go in the box and he can put them up.

He sits down on his little yellow chair, pulls up the green stool and puts his feet up, crosses his arms, and says to me very seriously, "I can't, Mommy. I'm sitting now. Like Daddy." Then he turns his head and stares out the window.

We're having an ugh day.

Yesterday Izzy complained off and on of having a cold, so when I got that tickle in the back of my throat last night I wasn't too surprised. I was, however, miffed to say the least to realize how crappy indeed I feel today. That creepy crawly feeling is in my head, throat AND my chest. UGH UGH UGH. Both kids are still feeling all moogly today too, but at least they're being quiet. I've just let Izzy lay in my bed all morning watching cartoons while I've sat here hacking and coughing.

But there are large beautiful flakes of snow falling right now. It's supposed to be freezing cold this afternoon. Yippee. I have to clean off the porch and put Chris's ladder up while the kids are napping. I just may freeze doing so. But even if it's all for naught, and the couple looking at the house tonight don't want it (which we expect) then at least my house will be all sparkling clean for the holidays. It's all good.

Scratch that being quiet bit. Sophie just got up from her morning nap and Izzy is irritating her and vice-versa, so the screaming and yelling have commenced. Okay, so Izzy just came in here and told me what the problem is. He is eating a sucker he bought for a quarter the other night, so I gave Sophie a fruit leather to eat. She let him have a bite of it, and when she finished it, Izzy let her have a lick of his sucker. Then he told her no more, but since she was crying he gave her another lick. Then she cried even louder so he calmly explained to me what was going on. Now, the funny part is that Izzy will not eat more than four or five licks off his sucker - he never does, never has. But because it's his sucker that he bought with his own money, he rationally doesn't want to share more with her than he already has. I happen to agree with him, so Sophie hates us both right now.

On a good Sophie note, however, she has SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT FOR THREE NIGHTS IN A ROW!!!! I feel queasy typing that for I'm surely setting myself up. She has taken to her bed being a toddler bed now better than I could have ever hoped. One REALLY rough night, then the next night she cried for a few minutes, and now she just lays down and goes to sleep. It feels like a miracle.

I went to bed at 11:30 last night and only read till about midnight (should have been a sign I was getting sick) and I actually slept well so I was close to getting a full night's rest. But Izzy was up at 2:30 wanting to sleep with us so I had to take him back to his own bed. Then he came at 4:45 and again wanted in bed with us, so I patted the bed and realized Chris wasn't there so I told Izzy to hop in. I start to doze back off when there is a huge crash in the bathroom, then silence. I run in expecting to find Chris in the floor, but no, he stood there half-dressed and looking a little abashed. He'd just knocked a picture off the wall.

Back to bed I went, but then Izzy's snoring due to his cold got to me, so I picked him up to take him back to his bed. He wrapped his legs around my waist, arms around my neck and snuggled tight just like he did when he was a baby. He didn't even feel that heavy to me for a change. I tucked him in and went back to bed. It's 5:15 at this point and I can't fall back asleep due to my coughing. I get back up and take some medicine, then back to bed where I fall asleep around 6. Then Izzy woke up at 8 and Sophie about 10 minutes after that. We all laid in bed together until 9 watching SpongeBob. That was fun. In the last couple of weeks, Sophie has started paying attention to TV, so she'll now sit still for a couple of minutes.

The cutest thing just happened. It suddenly got dark and tons of snow started swirling around. I told Izzy to look at the snow, not thinking that Sophie is old enough to appreciate it now as well, but she ran to the window and then back to me, eyes wide pointing outside. I ran over to look with her and she stretched her arms up, "Up, up!" I picked her up and she pointed outside, "Oh? Oh?" - her version of "snow." We watched for a couple of minutes, then I ran to get my camera, of course. I'll post the picture for you all a little later.

Okay, I'm off to fix lunch for my hoodlums. Here's to a better afternoon.

UPDATE: Izzy just gave his sucker to Sophie. When I told him that he didn't have to do that, he said, "Yeah, I do. Her wanted it for a long time." He sure can be a sweet kid.

A few more...

Some of my recent favorites:




In this last one, both kids gave themselves beards and they're pretending to be Santa! This is going to be an awesome Christmas.