The Week

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We’ve been casually trying for about four - maybe even five months now. And the time, again, has come… The end of another month. We spend our days walking on eggshells, waiting to find out if mother nature will deliver another week of menstrual disappointment. Or if, just maybe, this will be the week that we find out we’re going to have another child. It feels like a good week to find out news like that; But then again, I think any week would, really. So far, I’ve really been keeping my hopes discrete - even to Spencer. We don’t want to get ourselves too hung up on hoping that we are, just to make the probable let down sting that much more when it arrives a few days late.

There isn’t any rush. Our lives are already a circus (a good circus, but a circus nonetheless) and we’re a young, able-bodied couple with plenty of time and good health on our side. But like kids on Christmas, we’re just excited. It’s kind of like being six and thinking there’s only two more weeks until Christmas, then finding out that there’s really four. More waiting. Waiting sucks.

I remember thinking that last month was the third or forth period I’d had since we’d done away with our contraceptive. (leaning toward four, but these things tend to feel like they’re taking longer than they really are, so I could be wrong.) We were fine with that, but I figured that it was a good time to at least start keeping track of my menstruation, since my periods are irregular anyway. Christmas Eve was when I expected my period for this month. I could have taken an EPT on Christmas morning, and gotten a result with 99% accuracy. I decided not to set myself up for a possible disappointment on such an important day -- and more importantly, to not spend my children’s favorite holiday worrying about myself instead of them. I wiped it from my mind, and it hadn’t even resurfaced until the day was wrapping up and Spencer was dropping Mary off at her mom’s for the evening.

** I want to add, real quick that I’m making it sound more dramatic than it actually is. If I were to get my period today, I wouldn’t sit in the bathroom and cry or anything. The waiting really isn’t as terrible as I’m making it out to be. In fact, it has it’s fun advantages - obviously :-P - it’s just that it can get nerve-racking to be constantly pussy-footing around the idea, afraid to get yourself too excited but not wanting to miss out on enjoying the anticipation. I want to have fun trying, but I feel like I’m spending all of our time so far pretending that I couldn’t care less - when the reality is that I just want to start devouring baby books and filling up on apples and bananas and adorable little maternity tops again.**

On Christmas day, around 5:00 p.m. my parents are I were talking out in their living room, trying to relax a little now that the day was coming to a close. I told them about it being “the week” once again. My mom reminded me of how cool it would be to find out on Christmas morning -- and I agreed, but didn’t regret not trying. Spencer has already decided that he thinks I am. He’s not snatching coffee out of my hands or anything just yet, but he says it matter-of-factly whenever an opportunity arises, as if it’s just a known fact and no big deal at all. “Well, you’re definitely pregnant, so…”

Yesterday morning, I woke up without any particular plans other than grabbing a cup of coffee -- but by the time I’d swung my feet over the edge of the bed and fished my feet around the floor for my slippers, I checked the clock and decided to do it. It was Sunday. Mary was at her mom’s this morning. Everyone was still asleep and the whole house was calm. If I was, I could wake Spencer up to a big breakfast and give him the great news - if I wasn’t, no big deal. No pressure of having him wait anxiously outside the door.

I did it. Replaced the cap. Set it on the counter. Tried by best not to care. Tried my best not to care. Tried my best not to care. It was the digital ClearBlue Easy kind. The kind I used with Matthew. It was impossible to not playback every slow-motion second of the moment I found out about him, sitting in that same bathroom, staring at that identical blue stick, with the identical blinking hour glass.

Blink.
Blink.
Blink.
Blink.

The screen went blank.
And it stayed blank! What the heck!? The battery died.
“Are you kidding me??” How does that even happen??


So I guess this is kind of a cliffhanger. The directions said to call the manufacturer if that happens, but Spencer decided he’d just take it apart and find a way to decipher it for himself. Knowing full well that he had no idea what he was doing, I went into the kitchen and did the dishes, feeling kind of amused at the whole thing.

Spencer yelled something, but I couldn’t hear him over the running water, so I turned it off.
“You’re pregnant!” I made myself laugh at him, telling myself that he was either joking with me or had no idea what he was talking about anyway.
“What?”
“You’re pregnant! I’m serious. I’m not joking. Look!”
He was lying on the bed, holding it up above his face with two hands. It was taken apart so that the inside strip was exposed. The infrared light was illuminating two lines.
“How do you know that that means pregnant. Not every test has two lines to indicate pregnancy.”
He showed me a second test - an old, already used one, still yellow with pee on the absorbant tip - (which neither one of us could figure out it’s strange reason for not being thrown away but had to have been from months ago, when I obviously wasn’t pregnant). On it’s strip, there was a perfectly obvious, clear single blue line.

The test from this morning, had two perfectly detectible blue lines.
Well, we still don’t know. Spencer looked it up online (all morning long - for about three hours) and apparently a lot of frustrated baby-makers have taken apart their ClearBlues and have found two lines without being pregnant. But, the fact still remains, that it’s now four days past my expected period and mother nature hasn’t made her appearance. We almost ran out to the store for a second test, but we decided to just wait until next weekend. Keep your fingers crossed.

Or don’t.
I really don’t care.

:-P

A Very Stucky Christmas -- 2009!

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Mary, X-mas Eve! '09

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care

Mary posing with a cranky Matthew


There's that smile!

It was one in the morning when Spencer and I started making trips back and forth from our bedroom to the Christmas tree with armfuls of newly wrapped gifts. I tagged them out in the living room, meticulously choosing which ones were from us and which ones were from Santa. Although Mary knows my hand writing too, Spencer’s is unmistakable, so he just got to watch. Spencer’s duties were done, and it was my turn to put a little elbow grease into making Christmas Magic. He’d spent the last two months cramming himself every weekend into our (very tiny) coat closet, pulling himself up into the attic through the whole in the ceiling and being the one to store all of the presents… Then taking them down and putting them back up again every time we had a chance to wrap a few in advance - so I didn’t mind him just being the tape dispenser for me on Christmas Eve as long as he was there to keep me company. He mostly just handed me tape and cookies and made me laugh so that I wouldn’t fall asleep under the tree with the gifts. Four heavy hours (that felt like four days) later, we finally dragged ourselves into bed with bellies full of painfully delicious homemade chocolate chunk cookies, milk and coffee that we had no choice but to drink around midnight.

Mary woke me up thirty minutes later. I sent her back to bed about 4 times before finally giving in at 5:18 in the morning. Nothing I didn’t fully expect.

Christmas Eve was everything it was supposed to be. We had a blast dancing to Christmas music, unwrapping brand new Christmas Pajamas, reinforcing the stockings so that they wouldn’t fall down after they were filled, sending Mary in her coat and pajamas to a neighbor’s house to borrow vanilla, and taste-testing the cookies for Santa.

After the night before, we weren’t expecting too much from Matthew this year.
We wrapped both of the kids’ Christmas Pjs and tucked them under the tree for them to open before bed on Christmas Eve. He watched Mary enthusiastically open hers, but then outright refused to take his or even just help to unwrap it. He even pouted a little when we persisted. We left it alone for a while, mindful of the fact that it was a two-year-old’s bedtime, but when we eventually opened it for him, he was instantly psyched to find his Thomas Pajamas underneath of the paper. He couldn’t wait to put them on. We weren’t putting a lot of stock into him doing cartwheels over every gift or even wanting to open them, but with this being his second Christmas we didn’t feel like we needed to force anything on him, anyway. We always have Mary to watch dig into her pile right away so we weren’t hanging on the expectations of a big, dramatic performance from Matthew. We hoped that he would open his gifts on his own and be excited about them, but if didn’t, it wasn’t going to ruin our Christmas.

Matthew playing with Milo's lazer pointer

Daddy's helping...

I love Spencer's smile when he's just watching them play

Daddy's little girl, not being so little anymore.

The only cat I've ever seen who likes to wrestle with kids

The sweetest little foot there ever was.

Mary, posing with Milo - her Christmas present from last year.

Milo thinking, 'yeah.. I'm pretty sure that's my toy.'

Waking up on Christmas morning!! -- to camera flashes

and a loud, rambunction up-since-2:30-Mary.

A quick shot of the gifts before they get annihilated

The kids are on a very early morning schedule throughout the normal workweek, so waking up at 5:00 a.m. is nothing new to them. Mary bouncing into Matthew’s room with me to wake him up with a nice hot baba put him in the perfect mood for Christmas morning. We all three woke Spencer up with great big smiles (Okay, mine was a *little* forced) and walked the green mile out to the Christmas tree, where Christmas music was still playing softly from the night before.

Matthew’s face popped with a wide-eyed, jaw-dropping gasp when he made it to the end of the hall and the Christmas light glow hit his face. It was the kind of face that every mother dreams about from the moment she finds out she’s pregnant. It wasn’t a smile just yet -- more like a “What happened in here and who’s in trouble for it?” kind of face. But when we all started laughing at his expression, he knew it was going to be fun - whatever it was - and from then on, he had the time of his life.

It's blurry, but I had to get a shot of his priceless reaction :-D

Mary sat Indian-style on the floor and opened hers one at a time, posing for a picture in between every few gifts to show off some of her favorites. Matthew walked over to the plate of Chocolate Chip Cookies, took one massive cluster of chocolate in each hand, and watched Mary squeal over each new gift with perfect contentment, like it was the best morning of his life.

Mary, getting an early start

Matthew, being more excited to have a plateful of

giant cookies at 5:20 in the morning!!

'Do you see this Mommy??'

As if waiting his turn, Matthew picked up where Mary left off as soon as she was done. It took a little bit of fanning for him to free his hands of the grasp they had on those cookies, but once he tore through the first gift and found a HotWheels Monster Truck inside, there wasn’t a single gift that he didn’t flip over. Mary would pick one out for him and tear the first hole, giving him a piece to grab onto. We’d all tell him to use his muscles; to help rip it; to “b-open” it (he pronounces it with a B for some reason). After two or three, he really caught on. Every gift got a theatrical “WHOA! AW, MAN!” and was toddled over to Daddy right away to get opened and played with immediately. (Could the mother of a son ask for anything more??) We didn’t snatch anything out of his hand right away, we just let him play with each toy for a minute or two and then gently, but enthusiastically directed his attention back toward the rest of Santa’s load. We all made a conscious effort not to get him too worked up by shouting at him from all directions, but we didn’t really need to. We’d all kind of chant one of our stock motivational phrases, like, “we need your muscles again!” or “Oh My! I Think this one might be a MICHAEL (translation: Motorcycle), too! Let’s find out!” He’d say, “Kay!” and with an exuberant determination, he’d plow his way through the rough terrain of boxes and bows of presents past. When he got to the next gift, he’d make a show of grunting like a grown man, hard at work, then with a swift throwback of his arm, he’d yell, “Got it!” and we’d all hoot and holler for the new toy he’d just gotten, while Mary helped to free it from the rest of the paper.

It was the Christmas I’ve been dreaming of since the day I got pregnant. I can’t imagine any other Christmas matching up to it. Their faces were just priceless; Mary’s finally out of the whole baby-doll phase and got to get cool pre-teen gifts like cute little training bras, a neon make-up mirror, fashion-designing kits, her first (real) digital camera, blow-dryer and even mini hair straightener. Matthew’s into all of the coolest things -- light-up, engine-revving sports cars and motorcycles that play rock music when you turn them on, laser guns, Diego animal rescue train sets, Tools, Chompin’ Mike the Mower, and even Rock ‘em-Sock ‘em Robots!

We opened gifts nice and early so that the kids would have plenty of time to get into some of them before having to get into baths and braids and itchy clothes for the 10:00 a.m. trip to mom-mom & pop-pop-ville. But this year, unlike any other year we’ve ever had, there wasn’t even a single gripe about getting dressed up! I was shocked beyond belief. Mary, who has always had Itchy-Clothes-Syndrom, couldn’t wait to take a shower, put on her new robe, get cleaned up with all of her new bath stuff, dry her hair entirely on her own with her own dryer, and put on her new dress and new jacket (one of the definite winners this year). She even let me braid her hair without pulling it out and whining about looking like a nerd. It was a true Christmas Miracle. Luckily right now Matthew’s stuck in the age where he thinks anything we tell him is cool, really is - so he was a cinch to put in his Thomas button down shirt, and polar bear sweater. Toss on a pear of light-up Diego shoes and he was feeling like a million bucks.

That's the money shot, right there. Perfect reaction.

It's a dark shot, but this is her x-mas dress

Marshmellow Candy Factory

The next book in one of her favorite series

" B'open it Daddy!! "

Just a really cute picture of him pulling up his pants. ;-P

oooOooo...

'Hm, I wonder what this is...'

"Oh My God!! Only something AWESOME!"

His Diego shoes - he immediately started

dancing and singing 'Di-ego, Di-ego!'

Getting dressed up for mom-mom's in our new clothes!

We spent the first few hours at Spencer’s parents’ for a big, Christmas breakfast and then went down the street to my parent’s house for the traditional Christmas feast at 1:30. Mary’s mom picked her up from there at 4:30, and the rest of the day was an exhausted blur -- but the good kind. We’d been running through a very exciting day on about two hours of very interrupted sleep - toting around two kids, one of which depends heavily on a nap he never took -- and I don’t think a single one of us stopped smiling all day long. No meltdowns, no tantrums, no pouting, no complaining… Just a lot of animated smiles, too blurry to get almost any good pictures of. It’s okay, though. That’s a good thing.

My little boy, blasting everyone in the room with his

lasergun, yelling 'you died!!'

Mary showing off her new dress

The kids with their toys

Mom-mom Carol doing what mom-mom's do best -

handing out presents!

Mary with her new camera from mom-mom & pop-pop Stucky

A perfect Christmas smile

Whoa - Power Rangers

Asking Daddy if he wants to share some pumkin pie

Lighting the world up with his smile!

Bed Time Prayers

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Tuesday night while Mary and I were out getting gifts for everyone I finally got around to asking her if she says bedtime prayers by herself at night. On my “101” list I put that a goal of mine was to say bedtime prayers every night with both kids. It’s italicized because I say them unfailingly every night with Matthew; Even on the nights that I work late (which are only occasional), I’ll have Spencer put Matthew on the phone so that I can say them with him before his dad lays him down for the night. It’s just easier to start corny little habits with a brand new baby than it is with a nine year old.

I was talking to a friend of mine a few months back - a fellow step-mom - who was pregnant with her first child. We were watching her stepson, who had a cast around his leg, disobediently climb a fence he was just told to get down from. I jokingly asked if she was ready to do “that” all over again. Her response stuck in my head - because it’s probably wrong to think, but I’m sure we’ve all done it. She said she’d be able to raise this one the right way from the beginning.

Planning a wedding while helping your soon-to-be-husband work through the aftermath of his previous divorce puts a lot of things into perspective for you. I found myself a lot of times, trying to put myself into his ex-wife’s shoes; the shoes of Mary’s real mom. I got a front-row glimpse of a marriage’s Worst-Case-Scenario ending; and believe me, I paid attention. I wanted to get a good look at what I never hoped to have my life turn into. Because they were only confused and struggling teenagers when they got married, I felt bad for Jen… That’s the wrong word… I guess I sympathized with her situation more than I would have if they had been two clear-minded adults who made the decision to get married for any reason other than just to rectify an unplanned pregnancy. The obvious truth was, they both felt forced into their marriage. It never stood a chance… But I’m getting off-topic.

My point is that I’ve thought a time or two about how I’d handle Spencer re-marrying if it ever, God forbid, came down to that. Of course, Spencer and I have vowed to always work through even the worst of problems, no matter how terrible things (hopefully never) get. If not for us, than for Mary, who we could never put through a divorce twice in one lifetime. But still, you can’t help but wonder about the Worst Case Scenario, especially when you witness others go through it all the time; neighbors, in-laws, friends, your own daughter’s “real” mom. I’ve often thought that hearing your own beloved child’s step-parent (whom you have no control over choosing) say something like that, must be the hardest thing in the world to sleep with at night.

The truth is, we all change our step-kids, intentionally and otherwise. They fight us on some things, they relish in others. Traditions are screwed up, or forgotten altogether, and new ones probably never feel quite the same. We’re always, even in the best situations, trying to inconspicuously rebuild with recycled pieces - without making it too obvious. Holidays are split in half, which might as well be done with a knife and cutting board instead of a custody schedule, and the only thing you can say to make the kid feel better is, “This way you get twice the presents!” and you almost feel slimy for even pretending one makes up for the other.

For the past two Christmases, we didn’t hang stockings. It was something I never did as a child - all of our presents were usually just too big. It wasn’t until this Christmas that I learned how much that bothered Mary - who for the past two Christmases didn’t even have much a relationship left with her real mom. Stockings were something she was familiar with, and liked, and I messed that up for her without even knowing. I thought she’d like having bigger gifts, and more to unwrap under the tree. This year, I’ve gone out of my way to get stockings for both kids and find plenty to fill them with.

When Mary came into my life 3 years ago, she was six and I had no idea what it was like to be a mom; much less a really, honest-to-goodness great one. To make it tougher, I wasn’t a “joint-custody” step-mom, I wasn’t a step-mom at all yet, and I was raising her full-time almost from the start. Her mom vanished and her dad worked while I stayed home looking for a job since I’d just graduated college. I never thought about bed-time prayers until after Matthew was born. It wasn’t something she’d always done, so when I started doing it with Matthew, I felt uneasy about forcing it on her.

Well, come to find out, from finally just getting the nerve to ask her honestly about it, that she’s always wanted someone to tuck her into bed every night and say prayers with her before bed. I was so relieved! And even excited. I told her that I’d always wanted to do it with her too but that I didn’t want her to feel like I was treating her like a baby… I was just nervous to do it with her because it wasn’t something we were used to doing already. She said that sometimes it’s kind of nice to not always be treated like such a big-girl all the time… and I can see her point. So last night before bed we said them together for the first time, and even though we both kind of giggled through it a little, it was nice and not as tough as I’d thought. If I can keep up with it for 12 days, I’ll cross it off my list.

Christmas projects, and a few fun things with Mary

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The Christmas cards are finally out… *Huff* I wonder if there will ever come a time when I don’t have to plan for things 4 months ahead of time in order for them to actually get done in a timely freaking manner. Sometimes, being a wife actually feels like being back in school. I never thought I’d have so much “homework” just from raising a family.

Okay, the cards were actually kind of fun to make and order, just a pain to see that they got out in time. I’m not wasting much needed money on cards that no one sees. Then, there’s the Christmas letter… Which has been even more fun to write, but equally as stressful to get sent out. Mostly because we don’t have a working printer. I bought adorable Christmas paper and little pop-up Christmas stickers to seal the folded paper with inside of the envelope. But I still need actual envelopes, and to get over to my moms to print the damn thing out. Still, I’m excited. We had a lot to write about this year. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

This wasn’t on my little “101 list” or anything (which, by the way, doesn’t even have 101 things on it yet) but it was still something I’ve always wanted to do with Mary. For her 4 grade class’ last day of school before Winter Break, we made Goody Bags for her classmates. They got to watch “The Polar Express” that day - so the treat was an added little bonus to their fun day. I had to skip dinner the night before in order to get them all done (not to mention hand-make the holes for the tags that were wrapped around the top because we couldn’t find a hole punch) but it was worth it. Mary came home from school that day saying that Ms. Lewin had kept it a surprise for everyone until Movie time and when she pulled them out, everyone ran up and hugged her, screaming, ‘Mary you’re the best!!’…. “Even the Boys!” She added.
That was cool.

Pictures with Santa were a No-Go this year, but we DID manage to actually get wrapping done in advance, which I am very proud of. I missed the chance to get pictures of Matthew in the snow over the weekend since I was sick, but I brought Mary to work with me and did get great pictures of her playing out in the snow. They aren’t at our house, like I would have liked to get, but the property where I work is breath-takingly scenic, so I was satisfied. Since I don’t want to put pictures up of the family that I work for (for privacy) I tried to get a few good ones of just her for the sake of sharing online - but I got a lot more great ones of all of them having a blast together. I took her to work with me two days in a row and got to have a really good time with her, without Matthew around to steal the show - which is the case more often than I’d like to admit. We got to play Wii, paint crafts, make ice cream sundaes, play games, get out in the snow, draw pictures, make cards…

After work yesterday we got to enjoy a little day of shopping too. Mary reminded me that it was Daddy’s birthday tomorrow (the day before Christmas Eve)… and although Spencer and I have made an agreed-upon habit of not buying for each other because we’d both much rather be able to spend the extra money on a few more gifts for the kids than for each other… Mary won me over when she reminded me that she’s like to get him something. I couldn’t say no. We stopped at Jo-Anne Fabrics to get some craft stuff and stopped at 5 below for a card, and were able to actually pick up gifts from Mary for her cousins too. We had to stop at Happy Harry’s for some little extras and then at the grocery for some Meatballs -- which Matthew asked for and Spencer (God forbid) didn’t want to deny him even though we didn’t have any (I didn’t mind, though. I was in the mood for them, too.

We got home and made him a cool T-shirt with iron-on stick-figure people that look like our family - a fisherman dad, a cute little mom, a little girl in a pink swim-suite with a ponytail and sunglasses and a toddler boy. Then we traced her hand with a fabric marker and I (actually pretty successfully!) traced Matthew’s hand, too. Inside of each we wrote their names and Mary made me write 2009 in between them in shadow letters. I’ll have to wrap it up today. Actually I should do it now.

Snowy, blowy weekend

Pin It So this whole stomach virus was only supposed to last for 24 hours. Matthew started vomiting Thursday morning - right in the driveway, just as I was packing my things into the van for work. Luckily I had set him down for a second to put my coffee into the cup holder so instead of tossing his cookies onto me or all over his car seat, he was standing and none of it got on him or anyone else. Only having 45 minutes to get to work - including the time that it takes to drop him off at daycare - I didn’t have a choice but to pack him into the van and get him to daycare before we found a solution for getting him back home and into bed.

To make a long story short, neither Spencer nor I could leave work that day. My mom reluctantly let him stay until we were able to get off from work at the end of the day since he technically hadn’t thrown up at daycare and didn’t seem to be doing too badly. Licensing regulations say that if a child has more than 3 loose bowels, they need to be picked up. Luckily, he’d only had 1 less than he needed to go home so my mom let it slide. By the time we got him home Thursday night, he was fine. Happy and playful. On Friday there wasn’t a sign of the illness all day.

Then, just before bed, as I was pulling out a diaper from the cabinet underneath of his changing table, he threw up in the hallway. We cleaned it up, wiped him down, and finished getting him ready for bed. We put him in a brand new set of Pjs, and gently played with him for a little while before tucking him in. Just after his story, as I was turning off his sailboat light switch, it happened again. And before he could even sit up, again. And still before he could get up - again! It was flowing down both sides of his face, getting into the back of his hair, all over his sheets, his pajamas, his teddy bears - everything. He threw up two more times, one time right after another. Spencer and I struggled to get his soaked pajamas off together, not knowing how to do it without stretching the really wet part all over his face and hair. We gave him a good bath, brushed his teeth, tried to get some water into him and got him into bed.

Like a switch, something went off in Spencer as soon as we put him down. He was tossing and turning, with a ‘just-in-case’ bag lying between us in bed. He woke up at 11:00 and finally got it out, waking me up so that I could laugh at him. After that, he felt fine -- Then it was my turn. My turn lasted ALL DAY!

I’m the kind of person who can’t help but wake up at 5:00 a.m. on the weekends because I can’t stand the thought of wasting my day away in bed. And this particular day was one I’d been looking forward to all week. It was Mary’s weekend with her mom, and out last weekend before Christmas to get Mary her big gift for this year. Plus, it was the first big snowfall of the winter and we were looking forward to taking Matthew out in it to play. I could barely lift myself up out of bed to look out the window at the snowstorm. I was bedridden all day long. It was killing me to be stuck in bed - but from the look of the snow, I'm not sure how much we could have accomplished outside of the house anyway. Spencer took Matthew out and pulled him around in the sled, he shoveled the driveway, and he ventured out to Walgreens to pick me up some Ginger Ale. By 3:00, I was finally feeling well enough to climb out of bed and even make some chicken fettuccini Alfredo for dinner. Spencer and I just enjoyed getting the chance to relax for the rest of the night…

We got Matthew to bed and we spent the rest of the night pulling down all of the gifts from the attic, eyeballing the size of both piles for fairness, and wrapping Mary’s. For the past three Christmases, we’ve had to wrap every single gift after Mary had gone to bed on Christmas Eve. Even last year when we had two kids to wrap for. This year, with her mom utilizing her visitation more, we finally have the opportunity to get some wrapping done in advance. We got all of her clothes in gift boxes and we wrapped and tagged about half of her pile.

Today is going to have to be a little crazy in order for us to finish up the last of our shopping in a single day - and with enough time to get everything for Mary put away before she arrives home at 6:00. I really hope that the snow doesn't slow us down too much today.

Goody Bags and Potty Training

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Enough with the pictures, mom.

I get to eat a Candy Cane on the potty!

Matthew's first time on the potty
One for the album, for sure.

Making Goody Bags for Mary's Class

I finally did something I've been wanting to do for a long time now.

Mary and I put together little goody bags for her class' last day before x-mas break. She said that they'd be having a little "winter party"... Probably watch a movie and eat some popcorn or something. At work, Evan got one from a kid in his preschool class, which reminded about how at every holiday I end up regretting that I never got around to doing something like that for Mary. Since I was heading to Walgreens to pick up the Christmas cards I ordered after work anyway, I figured I'd pick up the treats and goody bags too.

I'm always thinking of little things that I can't wait to be able to do for Matthew when he reaches the appropriate age. It's really fun to be able to start doing some of those things (at least the ones that she hasn't already outgrown) for Mary right now. She was so excited, and when I e-mailed her teacher, she was excited too. We filled them with 3 mini candy canes, 2 reecees, 2 starbursts, 3 pixi stix, and 3 stickers. Then we tied them with green yarn and put a cute little note tag in the shape of a gift on it saying, "Happy Holidays" in gold pen.

In other news, we've started potty training Matthew. Well... Introducing it to him, anyway. I can't wait to put the pictures up!

All fixed.

Pin It Spencer was able to fix the van door. It works even better than it did before.

Sweet!

The Family Van

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Yesterday at work, my van door fell from it’s hinges. It’s still attached to my van, but it does not close. It isn’t even level with the latch now. Something was bent in a way it shouldn’t have been - and when you try to shut it, it ricochets off of the doorframe in the opposite direction. The harder you slam, the further away from you it flies. I literally drove home from work holding the door as closed as I was able to. But on the windiest day of the year, that wasn’t easy. Every time a gust a wind swept beside us, the door would fight my grip. I wouldn’t pick up Matthew from daycare while having to drive like that, so I called Spencer to do it. He looked at the door as soon as he came home, but it looks like it’s something he’s going to need parts to fix. I’m lucky to have the kind of husband who knows how to do just about anything to a car himself; but apparently we’re missing some essential bolts or something. We may have to have an entirely new door put on.

It’s just an old, used car that we bought from someone off of Craigslist when I started working again after Matthew was born. We bought it with the only 1,000 dollars that we had to our name after I was hired. We knew that it was only a temporary means of transportation and that it wouldn’t last forever - but it was spacious, reliable, great on gas, and in impeccable condition for it’s age and number of miles… The kind of van you knew was owned by a very elder couple before anyone had to tell you so. We used it to get me to work and Matthew to daycare everyday as well as for all of our family needs, while Spencer’s much newer, more expensive, gas guzzling pick-up is strictly to get him to and from his job, or for hauling things. I’m not a car person at all, so I never minded having to drive the Plymouth. It was my ‘mom mobile’ and it got the job done without giving us any of the trouble that typically comes with taking on a used car. We had always planned to be able to spend a little bit more for the next van that we got. It would still be used, but we’d maybe splurge 2 grand this time for something just a few years newer. I refuse to buy anything I’m going to have to make payments on -- I don’t want to have to go into debt over something the kids are bound to throw up in sooner or later anyway. When the kids spill their drinks in their laps on the way home from McDonalds, I’d like to be able to wipe it up knowing that we only wasted a soda, not a mortgage payment.

At my job I get to drive around in a Town & Country Van. The kind you can practically turn on telepathically. There are about six different buttons that can open the side doors, so that you never have to bother yourself with doing it by grasping a handle. It has 3 DVD player screens and headphones, so that the kids can watch Ninja Turtles in the back while you listen to the radio up front. And it even has RV style tables that fold out from underneath of the floorboards so that the kids can enjoy a meal on the go. On a cold day, you can turn the car on from inside of the house so that by the time you climb in, it’s already warmed up and ready to hit the road. It’s very cool to drive. But I’ve cleaned up vomit and vacuumed up pretzel crumbs from both my van and the van that I drive at work, and where that’s concerned, one isn’t any more fun than the other.

I’m okay with my van. We were really hoping that this vehicle would last us one year longer, so that this year’s tax return could renovate the basement… But if it doesn’t, I really wouldn’t terribly mind a small upgrade.