June at 2 Years 2 Months

Our wild child.

This is our third born. She rules this house with an iron fist, as two year olds do. On her birthday we let her eat a butter packet with a knife because both of us were too scared to take it away from her. This about sums up how life is right now.

She is tiny, but she is fierce.

img_7581

June is a lot like her siblings were at this age. She talks a TON, she has already taken to calling me by my first name, “I so happy to see you Jackie”, she says. She loves music and anytime there are songs at story time or playgroup, she takes out her ponytail and shakes her head around until she falls down in a dizzy heap. Her favorite song to sing is Jingle Bells. The only line she knows is “Jingle bells, jingle bells”, so you can imagine what that is like for all of us.

She lives for Reese and James is her arch nemesis who she ocassionally likes, mostly when he gets stuff for her.  She knows exactly how to piss James off and unfortunately he falls for it every time. She is the destroyer of lego towers, grabber of crayons, puller of hair, and the worst; a spitter. But she also wakes from every nap, looks around, pushes her curls out of her eyes and asks, “Where’s Jeems?” When they are at school she loves to play in their rooms and steal their most prized possessions, the ones she’s never allowed to touch when they are around. As a little sister myself, I can commiserate with this.

It is easy to tell that she is a little sister. She knows far too much for two years old, and is not afraid to chase down big kids and join their wrestling matches or soccer games, much to my horror. She has started potty talk much too soon thanks to her big brother, and her favorite thing to do is to yell “poopy diaper” and wait for the laughs.

She sits through soccer practices, swim lessons, is carted to karate and cub scouts. I imagine how this feels through her eyes. To be taken to places with cool looking things; games, toys, crafts, balls, pools, snacks etc. Then to be promptly removed without being allowed to touch anything, only to be taken back about an hour later and then removed again. She is totally aware that bigger kids are doing better things without her. Anytime we talk about going anywhere or doing anything, June will appear at my feet, pulling on my pants leg and yelling, “I COME!”

I promise you June, your time will come.

img_2458

img_3048

Favorite things include our dog Miles, who she follows and around and loves on/tortures relentlessly, her bubba (pacifier) which yes, she still has at 2 years old so shutty, her big sister and brother, her cousin Sam, Legos (which she pronounces with an Italian accent), Paw Patrol, Daniel Tiger, playing outside, riding her trike, apples, ham and cheese, the beach and the farm.

Despite the fact that she is the littlest, our life still seems to revolve around her in a way that it should. The kids are aware that we can’t always do certain things because we’ll have June with us and it just won’t work, or that there are times when she will need to go for a nap, or need to be fed. And to me, this is how it should be, because before we know it everyone will be on the same playing ground and there won’t be a little person there to remind us to take a break.

So thank you Junie, for keeping us on our toes. I think it was getting too easy for us for a little while there anyway.

img_2181

img_2253

img_3751img_2998img_3102

 

 

It’s Been Awhile

This is us!

img_3727

IMG_3644

I am a terrible blogger and it feels like years since I’ve been back here; feels like years since I’ve not been too tired to sit down and write something that I want to write.

I love writing, and I love having memories from this special time in my life and my kids’ lives. As Reese is about to turn 8, this has become trickier. She is embarrassed by everything, and if she knew there was an online space available to anyone/everyone, that contained embarrassing baby stories, she would die. And they will probably all feel this way at some point, until they get over it and realize how cool their mom really was. Haha! Right. All that being said, writing these stories is something I have really missed, and my goal is to continue recording and sharing these memories without mortifying my daughter, although I’m sure that day will come no matter what I do.

So much has changed since the last time I’ve written. New house, new town, a second grader, a kindergartner, and a 2 year old who runs shit around here.

We are smack in the middle of crazy after school activities, weekend sporting events, homework and the terrible twos, with potty training on the horizon. It’s a circus round here, and I can’t wait to tell you more about it.

IMG_3187

James at 3.5 Years

DSC_0335

Another late update.

James was 3 and a half in early September and in true middle child fashion, his update never happened. Sorry buddy, but from one middle child to another, you’ll get used to it.

Dear James,

My little baby boy.

You are feisty, you are loud, you are devastatingly handsome, and you are wild and crazy. You couldn’t be more different from your sister at this age.

Your true loves include trucks, trains, Star Wars, MagnaTiles, Iron Man, selfies, riding your bike, the police, swimming, wrestling, Legos, and pretending to shoot things. You love peanut butter, jelly, rice cakes, cereal, and little other food. You love “cozy pants” and refuse to wear any pants that have buttons on them. I fight you on this, but I get it, no one loves an elastic waistband more than your mom. You fight with Reese daily, but when she gets home from school you light up. You are doing so well with your new little sister. I know you notice the extra time I have to spend with June, but you never direct your frustrations at her. You are only jealous that she gets to wake up in the night to eat.

You continue to be my biggest challenge in the parenting department. Sorry son, but it’s true, we usually go to battle an average of three times a day. The terrible two’s have reappeared as the threatening threes (as in me threatening you 24/7, and you threatening my sanity.) You are the sweetest boy ever about 75% of the time, but the other 25% of the time you will cut a b. You regularly tell me that you are never playing with me again, throw toys, stomp your feet, melt to the floor and turn to rubber, and then minutes later reappear asking for some crackers. I usually avoid taking you to places like the mall and the grocery store because you are getting bigger and stronger and I’m not sure how much longer I will be able to throw you over my shoulder and get the hell out of there when the need arises. The need usually arises.

You go to the school twice a week from 9-1 PM and it is everything to you. You love getting your backpack and your lunch box and going off to school just like Reese. Despite said behavior at home, you are an angel at school.

You would take a nap everyday if we had time for it. You love your midday snoozes and you still love to cuddle with your mamma. Lately you have been waking up scared in the middle of the night but your Dad can usually get you right back down. Going to sleep at night is another story. We put you and Reese to bed around 7/7:30 and for the next hour (sometimes more), you can be found laying in the hallway, busting into Reese’s room and being a general annoyance, calling to Andrew and I for water, hugs, tuck-ins, complaining of phantom injuries, etc. Oftentimes you appear in the living room doorway because, “I just had to tell you something.” “Something” is usually an arbitrary question about Star Wars, or a request to borrow our phones.

We are so proud of your kindness to other kids and your fierce independence. We love seeing you in your element at swim class, and watching you race on your bike like a maniac. We know you will be a wonderful big brother, and hopefully will become a little less of the stereotypical “little brother.”

We love you sweet James, more than you will ever know.

DSC_0381

image

image

image

DSC_0421

image

image

image

image

image

Last Day of Nursery School

On the last day of nursery school the same photobomber from the first day was still wreaking havoc on our photo taking.

Reese officially finished nursery school in mid June and it was bittersweet to say goodbye to her lovely little school. James will start there two days a week next year, so we aren’t leaving it completely but Reese loved everything about her school so much and I know she misses it. She is as pumped as ever for full day kindergarten next year, and Andrew and I are excited to see her in this new phase in her life, even if I will miss my little helper every day. Can someone take James all day instead? Just kidding Jamers.

img_7294img_7301

2016 Christmas Card Outtakes

DSC_0122This was all about 5 months ago, but better late than never I suppose.

A good lesson we learned this year is, don’t give your kids green lollipops BEFORE you are done taking photos. Their mouths and the surrounding areas will inevitably turn green and they will end up looking like the Hulk, and in James’ case, acting like the Hulk as well. We promised them lollipops if they cooperated. James did not pretend to cooperate, not even for a second, so we gave him the lollipop early, then tried to TAKE THE LOLLIPOP AWAY, and make him pose for more photos. Thus, tantrums ensued and we can only blame ourselves.

Here are our Christmas card outtakes.

DSC_0119

DSC_1505DSC_1553DSC_1556DSC_0020DSC_0004DSC_0120DSC_1558DSC_0049DSC_01059adbbf944650431a862400257c39ada0

Reese at Five, James at Three Years

DSC_1617 (2)DSC_0219

Our little people are now three and five. There is nothing baby about them at all, and they both get mad when I say they will always be my babies. But they will.

DSC_0112

Reesie turned five on November 29th and we celebrated with her favorite sushi roll, fried ice cream, and a party at the YMCA a few days later.

DSC_1487

My dearest Reese, there was a time when the Happy Birthday song brought you to tears but this year you reveled in it. You weren’t even mad when I dropped your birthday cake on my lap on the way to the party and we served a leaning, lopsided, chocolate mess, half of which was smeared across the front of my jeans.

You still love art and can spend hours coloring in your room. You like your alone time, and you are like me in that way. Some days you ask to go to rest time so you can have some time to yourself. Your kindness is what I am most proud of. You get along with everyone, and I have never seen you being mean to another child (not counting your brother of course.) I can see the hurt on your face when other kids are being left out or not treated fairly. You are ULTRA sensitive, which is frustrating for me at times, but you do you. The other day after a particularly rough afternoon for me, I didn’t say a word in the car on the way home from the YMCA. I felt like I needed 5 minutes of silence and if I didn’t get it, I would explode. You started to cry and said that you know I’m sad and when I’m sad you feel sad. My heart officially melted and then we all went and got munchkins.

You take swimming lessons and gymnastics classes once a week.  You have come so far in swimming. You can swim up and down the pool without your floatie and you jump in the deep end like it’s no thang. You like gymnastics but complain that it makes you hot and tired. Spoken like a true athlete.

You are in school Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. You can write all of your letters and numbers, your full name, and some short words. You love reading books and have memorized many of your favorites. You love The Magic School Bus, Shimmer and Shine (ugh), Batman, Legos, and dress up.

You are helpful and can do so much by yourself now. You help me everyday and are learning the hard lesson that because James is younger, and has bigger, louder tantrums (in public) he often gets what he wants. Ok, he always gets what he wants.

You are not shy, which I love. You talk to anyone you meet and tell them all about where we are going, who we saw yesterday, and exactly what mom said when she spilled the coffee this morning. One Sunday morning when I was away and your dad took you to church, you turned to the family behind you and said, “My mom’s at a bachelorette party.”

DSC_0148

 

DSC_0264

James turned three on March 5th and had cake and ice cream with his grandparents, cousins, and aunts and uncles.

DSC_0286

DSC_1558

DSC_0222

Dear Jamesie, you still love trains, trucks and cars. Trains especially, and riding the commuter rail with your dad is a favorite activity. You are obsessed with puzzles. You love cheese. Your best friends are Reese’s friends and their siblings, all of whom happen to be girls. Whenever we show up for a playdate, the girls say “The boy is here! Run!” Poor you. This will all change one day, I promise.

You now sleep in a “big boy bed”, you are almost completely potty trained, and you talk nonstop, but I feel like you never get a chance to finish your thoughts because someone who will remain nameless, (Reese), is always cutting you off. You take swimming lessons with me on Wednesdays which you love. You are a great swimmer but just need to work on following the teacher’s directions, or any directions for that matter.

The terrible two’s have segued into the even more terrible threes, and you are constantly challenging me. You are a runner. You run away at any opportunity you have. There are few opportunities though because I walk around holding onto you by the hood of your coat, as if it is a leash. When I don’t have a free hand your sister takes over as hood holder. I don’t know what I’ll do when the weather changes.

You are a cuddler and I hope that never changes. I hope that you never stop saying “bathing soup” (bathing suit), and I hope that you hold on to a little bit of that mischievousness as you get older. Just a little bit though.

Happy third birthday my sweet little hellion.

DSC_1336

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

First Public Parental Shaming

Today was the first time I was publicly shamed for my parenting. Maybe I should consider myself lucky since I have gone five years without this happening, but right now, the rage is still real.

We were at 11:30 mass this morning with Reese and James, and to us, it was just a normal Sunday. James had dropped his train about 317 times and had asked for us to pick it up 317 times. Maybe the 5th time he asked us, the elderly woman in front of us turned around, looked at James and said, “whisper! whisper!” in a semi-aggressive tone. Andrew and I looked at each other. This was just the beginning of it all and we were already pissed.

James is 2.5 years old and doesn’t give a damn if you are supposed to be quiet somewhere.  At this point, I had actually thought he was having a pretty good day. Five minutes later, the woman turned around, and this is what she said, verbatim, while wagging her stupid old finger at us, “You need to teach him to be quiet at home, not here at church. I have four kids and they were always quiet in church and never acted like this.” Then she turned back around and we continued staring at her back, our mouths agape.

There was fire in my insides and I’m pretty sure I was shaking. I was mortified but would have also loved to punch her in her smug face.

I took James out of the church and spent the rest of the mass with him in the foyer, going over and over in my head what I wish I had said to that lady. “Well you were 20 minutes late to mass and didn’t even hear the gospel so your attendance today doesn’t even count you jerk!” or “I’m sure you remember exactly how your children behaved in church 90 years ago.” Take that! I had plenty of zingers, most of which probably can’t be mentioned here.

When we were getting ready to leave and I was zipping James’ coat up in the foyer, another elderly woman came up to me, put her palm on my cheek, and said, “He is a good little fellow, and you are doing a good job. She should probably just sit up in the front of the church next time.”

Thank you kind stranger! We needed that.