Career aspirations

Grant is obsessed with being a "digger man". That is, one who drives diggers.

At dinner, this was solidified.

Hubs: If you want to be a digger man you have to eat all your veggies so you grow up big and strong.

Grant: (starts shoveling veggies into his mouth as fast as he can) Me digger man.

I'll be so proud. The mom of a digger man.

Italian Grandmothers

If there is one thing that is for sure about a group of moms, we can come together to help a mom in need. In fact, we'll likely feed her and her family. Had a baby? We'll bring dinner. On bedrest? We'll bring you dinner. Lose a family member? We'll bring you dinner. We'll queue up and bring you the one thing we know for sure - nourishment for you and you babies. Because if there is one thing moms are designed to do, it's to feed others. And we'll gladly do it for you if you have a need.

Our MOPS group has had it's share of new babies, moms in need, and moms in mourning. And we've gladly fed them all.

Playdates and speech assessments

Since when did playdates over here create more calm than chaos? Emma has a friend over right now, sans her mom, and they are quietly playing in her room, coloring and chatting. Who knew? I need to get this going more often! I'm sure it helps the friend is an exceptionally calm child, but still. This is great.

Grant's speech assessment was today. He needed to show a 33% delay in order to qualify for services, and he showed something like a 30%. Which I'm trying to remind myself is a good thing. The speech therapist told me he's all articulation. And of course, Alta doesn't qualify kids on articulation only. So I'm going to call my speech therapist friend and see if we can barter for some articulation services. Her husband is out of town a lot so I'm going to see if I can babysit for her, or take her daughter (who is the same age as Emma) for a bit to give her a break. The agency I used to work for also has articulation playgroups so I might try to weasel my way in to one of those. I'll have to see what they can do for me.

So for now, we're just doing what we've been doing. Saying the right word when he says the wrong word, monitoring the fluid in his ears, and checking for progress. But I'd say I'm done with assessments until someone tells me otherwise!

Finally, I wanted to give a shout out to the MOPS gals who have come over for a visit. Don't be shy, leave a comment now and then!

Parent conferences and speech evals

Yesterday I had Emma's parent conference at preschool. As I was driving to school I was remembering how incredibly nervous I was for last year's conference. This year, nothing like that. I was excited to see what her teachers had to say and what they had observed. They had pictures of her on the table when I walked in - in the dress up area dressed like a doctor, dressed like Snow White, dressed like a princess, dressed in a little bit of everything, outside playing, painting at the easel, playing with others, playing alone. Her teachers started the conference with "Well, Emma's a hoot!" and I knew this was going to be a fun conference. They had some interesting observations - Emma's not the strongest personality in the room and that seems to have done her some good and she writes with her right hand but cuts with her left hand. I added that she throws with her left hand and bats left handed also. They were impressed with her ability to count without pointing and how quickly her reading is progressing and how easily she makes friends. It is always so wonderful to hear great things about your kid, especially your kid that challenges you in every moment of every day. I know I've said it before, but I'm just going to keep on saying - we made the best choice ever when we chose to send her to this particular preschool.

I keep forgetting to update on Grant's ongoing speech saga. The same speech therapist that came out in Aug. is coming again on Tuesday to evaluate him again. His speech still sounds off to me, and very few people besides me and Emma and Hubs can understand him. Of course, he has very clear words, and he works very hard to have him self understood, but something just seems off to me. So we'll see what the evaluation shows. He's in his crib right now, "resting", singing his version of Head Shoulders Knees and Toes, which really just consists of kneeto kneeto kneeto over and over and over with the movements. Not so restful, I know.

Do over day

• I decided to make banana muffins instead of bread and they took 25 minutes to cook - the kids were beyond hungry and we were all grumpy. I should have just fed them cereal.

• I let Grant color while I did the dishes, and while he was using the color wonder pens that only write on the special paper, he still spent a majority of the time coloring on the table before I noticed.

• We stayed late at gymnastics to chat with Emma's old teacher who had come in with her baby to visit. We stayed longer than I meant to and Emma had a complete meltdown on the walk home. I spent a majority of the 10 minute walk dragging her down the road while pushing Grant in the stroller with her screaming at the top of her lungs and pulling away from me with all her might. I'm sure it was comical for the neighbors.

• I spilled an entire package of sweet potato fries down the front of my pants AFTER I had tossed them in olive oil but before I put them on the pan to cook. So now I have an awesome oil slick the length of my khaki pants.

• I realized when I went to move the towels from the washer to the dryer that I had run the whole load without any soap. Awesome.

• I took the computer over to the charger but didn't plug it in to the charger so it died mid important email.

I either need more coffee now or a complete do over of the day.

Good Grief

This has not been a restful resting time for Emma or for me. In fact, it's has solidified my previous thought that 4 is just the testing phase for the teenage years. The fourth year is to give you a little glimpse into having a teenager so you have the next 10 years to put together your plan of attack, and well, let's be real, your plan for survival.

Emma has collapsed into tears no less than 7 times in the last hour. She's yelled, then laughed, then cried, then played. And she can't make a good choice to save her life. She colored on her door with her pen, and then tried to wipe it off when I walked in. She stuck a toy down her straw in her water cup then cried hysterically when I took her water that still had the toy stuck in it.

I'm pretty much over it and already thinking I'm going to need to study abroad or something the year she turns 16.

Getting her draw on

Emma is a drawing maniac right now. Most days she spends at least an hour drawing, often times more if she takes her magna doodle into her room for resting time. And her art work has really become more mature. She's drawing people to look like the people they are (so like brown hair for Hubs, big red curls for her and for me) and she's starting to draw the things that are around. Yesterday she drew a picture of her room - a thick line around the edges of the magna doodle, a big circle with lots of lines coming off it (her table), several smaller circles with lines (the stools that go around the table), a rectangle with a darker rectangle on it (her bed with a pillow), a big rectangle with two little rectangles (her door), and finally a person with big curly hair (her, of course). She's made a big leap in the art work coming home from school too. It's been just a mush of different colors of paint from the easel. But Monday she did a self portrait at the easel with her red hair, and her sparkly red shoes, and a blue sky above her. I was thrilled and so excited to add it to her keepsake box. Until she informed me she was giving it away to Granny. Sorry Mom, it's mine!

She's also enjoying writing sentences. In particular she loves to draw something and then write "Love Emma" on it (mainly I think because she know how to spell both those words). If she's mailing the art work to someone then she insists on writing "To: _________ Love Emma". She'll write letters to people or write "I Love You ___________" and then draw them a little picture. She works carefully and diligently on each one. It's a lot of fun to watch her art work change so much.

"I love you mom Love Emma"
Then she labeled the people mom and dad. Do you see Hub's green shirt? And the dress I have one is my blue church dress (which is what the kids gave me for Christmas - a church dress)

"From Emma to Mom I love you"
Clearly it's a rainbow with a sun, clouds, flowers and grass. The two curly red heads are Emma and me. You can tell who is who because she has blue eyes and I have green/brown eyes.

Another invention idea

It has come to my attention recently that I say the same 8 things several times every day. I still need to work out the nitty gritty details, but basically, my idea is this. I'm going to create a small and light weight but loud machine I can place in various places throughout the house. It will have eight settings in which I will record myself saying the things I say many times a day. I will be able to operate each statement "file" by remote control so when the children are running through the house or generally behaving like hooligans, I can just hit the corresponding button on the remote with the phrase that needs to be said. Maybe if I'm only hitting a button instead of actually uttering the phrase repeatedly through the day I won't feel like pulling my hair out by evening.

Here is what I'd record:

1 - stay out of my room, it's not for playing in
2 - stop jumping on the bed
3 - do not grab things out of his hand, use your voice to ask for it
4 - I'm sorry you don't like dinner, you need to eat it anyway
5 - if you want your paci stop throwing it out of your crib
6 - no screaming in the house
7 - no screaming in the house (I'd record this statement on two button in fear one button might wear out and break.)
8 - no you may not have a mint, we don't eat mints every time we're in the car.

The cat

I think we can agree that Hubs and I were blessed with interesting children. Nothing boring going over here. Ever.

So you'd think because of the child chaos, we'd be balanced out with a normal cat. Nope. Not us. We got the freak cat on the block.

We got the cat that doesn't like to be pet all the time, and only pet on her head if she's laying down and on her body if she's standing up. And don't get those two confused or she'll swat at you. Hard.

We got the cat that doesn't like catnip or cat treats or really cat toys for that matter.

We got the cat who obsessively picked at the locked cat door for so long that she ripped thick strands of wallpaper off the wall around the door.

We got the cat who can claw open the bathroom linen closet door, scoot the pile of towels out of the way and then leap through to the TV cord storage area. For a nap.

Fingers crossed the dog is normal or I may have to move to the looney bin and leave the looneys at my house.

Arising from the depths

The depths of the flu. We've all had our go around with it and it seems that the worst is over. Thank goodness Hub's schedule was flexible enough on Friday that he could take the whole day off because I got hit by it Thursday afternoon and had to soldier through until the kids went to bed since it was teaching day for Hubs. Then Emma started in Thursday night and Hubs was up with her every hour until 3am. We all laid around like blobs on Friday as laundry and dishes stacked up around us. Hubs got hit last night but seems to be finally sleeping. Grant, lovely son of ours, introduced it to the family on Wednesday. So today I'm slaying the laundry dragon and trying to get the house back into some sort of order. Oh, and conserving our last two wipes until I can find some time to both shower and leave the house. Good times.

It's like college admissions

Remember this post? And then this post? Well you can uncross your fingers and toes because we got in! Emma will be headed off to Kindergarten at a public school down the road from us that is the public school of my dreams. And because Emma got in, Grant is guaranteed a spot now too. I'm over the moon excited about this. Seriously, I can't stop smiling.

As birthdays go

Friday was a pretty good one. I mean, it's not like I've had bad birthdays, it's just that at the end of the day Friday, I was one big smile. Which to me means it was a pretty good day.

I was greeted at my parent's front door early in the morning with a homemade birthday sign similar to the ones my mom would leave on our plates for us to see in the morning. Dad and I skied all day and had a great time together. On the way up the mountain, I was getting birthday texts and phone calls. On the way home I got birthday texts and phone calls. My lift ticket was free because it was my birthday. The slopes were awesome, we had a view of the lake from almost every run, my boots fit this time so I didn't hobble around like I was 150 years old on Saturday, it snowed, then was sunny, then snowed, then was sunny. I came home to an inbox full of birthday emails. Saturday morning the kids woke me up with birthday goodies - a colored in Tinkerbell color page from Emma, a scribble page from Grant, a note to buy myself some new running shoes from the kids (and transcribed by Emma) and the cutest little hot pink Shuffle ipod from Hubs for me to keep the beat while I'm pounding the pavement. I was feeling the birthday love all weekend from cards in the mail, and this morning at MOPS Kerry gave me a hilarious birthday card and some homemade cupcakes.

Who knew 33 could be so fun?

Ah the joys of marriage

So I had this hilarious great aunt and uncle - Aunt Nell and Uncle Tig. They thought my mother walked on water, and as a result, also cherished my brother and me. They were typical small town Southerners, from their twang to their way of life. We spent many many many an afternoon just hanging out on their porch swing idly talking and watching my great grandfather spit tobacco into a can.

The two of them together were hilarious. It was many a time that my Granny and I held each other in the back seat of their car with tears streaming down our cheeks, trying not to laugh out loud. They politely argued about what exit to take, whether to turn the air up or down, if we were running late, and the best was when Aunt Nell hollered at Uncle Tig to "Roll down that up winda" as we pulled into a toll booth. The arguing wasn't limited to the car either. Every single time one of them walked by the thermostat in the house they adjusted it. One would turn it up and mutter about how cold it was, then the other would walk by and turn it down and mutter about how hot it was.

I wouldn't have traded those two for anything. They were awesome, and they thought I was awesome. Everyone needs people in their lives that think they are awesome.

Hubs pointed out last night that we were turning into Aunt Nell and Uncle Tig. Everytime he opens the computer, he squints at the screen and pushes the button to make it brighter while muttering about how on earth can Melissa see the screen with it dark like this. Then I open the computer and throw my hand in front of my face to protect it from the shining glare while pushing to button to lower the brightness and muttering about how blind Hubs must be to need the screen so bright.

We're the new Aunt Nell and Uncle Tig.

Decisions, decisions

I just had a former co-worker email me to see if I wanted to take over her caseload for the summer while she was out on maternity leave. It would be 2.5 days a week for June, July, and August.

I'm actually considering it. But at the same time feeling like it might not be worth the hassle of finding summer only daycare. And the drive is sort of long, and my skills are rusty. And frankly, home visiting in the summer is H.O.T.

But I'm considering it.