Rumble Down Below

Ev is having some major stomach issues...despite his best efforts, he hasn't been able to go in quite some time. On the surface, this may not seem like the worst thing. However, I will explain it for any of you who don't have kids. This means when Old Faithful finally blows...there is going to be hell to pay. If it is anything like the last time this happened with him, we're going to need baby goggle and a shower cap to keep his head clean. Ahhhhh, parenthood.

Cough Cough Cough

As has been reported on here many, many, many, many times....Amelia now has a bad cough. She and I were up most of last night trying everything we could think of - steam, cool mist, onions, honey, cough medicine, inhaler treatments, breathing cool air from the freezer, popsicles, lollipops, etc. It was all to no avail. It was hard enough dealing with her constant coughing spells when we didn't have Everett to handle as well. It will be interesting to see how we manage both going forward. So far, he's done a pretty good job of being a team player and trying to make it easy on us.

Kids are Funny

Tonight while surfing cartoons on the Ipad, Amelia came across an American classic which she explained to her mother and me like this ....

Tom is the mouse and Jammy is the cat.  Jammy eats Tom.

I'm sure I'll eventually correct her on the ins and outs of the legends Tom and Jerry, but for now, I'll let her believe she's discovered the new phenomenon of Tom and Jammy.

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Amelia has a rebuttal for everything...even things I didn't know she had any idea about. When I caught her swinging my golf club (which I keep under my bed in case of zombie attacks) around my bedroom, the conversation went as follows:

Me: Amelia! Stop that!

Amelia: (laughter and more swinging)

Me: Give me that (taking the golf club from her).

Amelia: Nooooo, Dad (which she has taken to instead of "daddy". I guess she's grown now.)!

Me: You do not need that. If you keep swinging it, you are going to break something.

Amelia: But, Dad, I haven't played golf in a while!

Big Helper

In case you were wondering what a great big sister looks like, she is short, has blue eyes, and scrubs her old high chair for her new little brother.

Fluff

Everett is a living optical illusion. Nearly everyone says he's a "big boy" or "born half grown" or "fat". Yet, he went to the doctor today and he still hasn't cracked 16lbs. This puts him around the 35th percentile and the doctors aren't completely happy with his weight.  I'd say it's because he's just short, but the last time he measured in, he was of above average height. So, I'm left with no idea as to how he can look like a chunk, yet weigh next to nothing.  My son is apparently made entirely of Marshmallow Fluff.

I See You

I have a pretty good feel for Everett, but he spends most of his time with me staring at me and trying to figure out what I'm all about. He'll figure it out one day...

War Wounds

Despite his roughed up exterior (even with his nails constantly trimmed, we have been forced to register his hands as deadly weapons), Everett is really sensitive on the inside. That is why it hurt his feelings a bit when the old man at the restaurant this weekend said "My, he's a big one. That boy must have been born half grown!"

Just Like His Dad

I think it is safe to say, like his father, Everett is a Mama's boy. I'm not sure if it is because she nurses him, because he is a boy and she is a girl, or just because he has excellent taste in women. What I do know is tonight at dinner, every time she looked away from him, he cried and every time she looked at him again, he broke into a smile. We did this over and over to make sure it wasn't a coincidence. Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy Everett loves his mother and stares at her lovingly...I just wish he didn't give me the stink eye with just as much passion.

Well, I Guess She Told Me

Amelia is in a much better mood this morning, but that doesn't mean she is taking it easy on me...

Me: You're so silly.
Amelia: Noo, I'm not silly.
Me: You're probably the silliest person I know.
Amelia: I'm not silly! I'm smart!
Me: Silly doesn't mean you aren't smart. You can be silly AND smart at the same time.
Amelia: That doesn't even make sense! Are you kidding me?!?

She's Fiery

I love Amelia. I really, really, really love her. She's one of my favorite people on the planet. But, holy crap can she really throw down when she gets a wild hair. That fiery nature is part of what I enjoy about her. I think it makes her have quite the personality. That said, when she decides to use her powers for evil, look out below. She threw a 2 hour tantrum tonight that included yelling, crying, asking for other relatives, kicking the dog, claiming Everett put his foot on her, and refusing to look at me while I tried to get her to calm down. We threatened life, limb, poverty, and loneliness. It essentially amounted to nothing. As a parent, all you can do is try to be patient, try to teach your children when to use their stubborn inner wild, and pray they don't turn out to be the next Lindsay Lohan.

Must Be Nice...

Now that Ev is old enough to give kisses (a.k.a. slobber all over your face), it is very easy to get one from Amelia. All you have to do is pretend to give him some affection and attention and she comes running to get in on the action. Jealousy has its underrated advantages.

  

Thank You

Amelia made a Thank You picture for someone today. I told her the letters that spell out the words "Thank" and "You" and she wrote them (which I didn't really know she could do). I'm not sure how well 3 year-olds should be able to write, but I was pretty impressed. Sure, the K looks like a crazy E and the Y looks a bit like a T, but get off her back, you animals, she did the best she could and I'm proud.

Farmer

Amelia is quite the little farmer. She grew these potatoes in a little area next to her plastic house in the back yard. She is very proud of her green thumb. Apparently, the key to being a good farmer is following these 3 easy steps - 1) Let your Grandpa plant potatoes in your yard. 2) Pray your Dad's irrigation system waters them from time to time. 3) Do nothing else besides look cute while helping plant and pull them.

Father's Day

Today was a wonderful Father's Day full of love, family, and fun. However, my favorite part of the day was this list Amelia made for me... ...despite the fact that I don't know where she got some of the ideas...such as "carrotts" (also known as carrots)... you just can't hear your daughter say she loves you because your her best friend enough.

I Win!

For possibly the first time ever, I outlasted Amelia on a busy day. We ate, we shopped, we played in the pool. However, by the end of the night, she was passed out on the couch. It is tough enough to get Amelia to eventually fall asleep in her bed...she never passes out early. Sadly, this small victory is enough for me these days.

A Small Success

I have to give my little man credit for last night. He fought the good fight, but once it was over, he basically slept through the night...save a small snack break. Now, tonight we have Maw Maw and Aunt Stacy in town. I'll be interested to see how sleep training with guests plays out over the weekend. I'm guessing Amelia will love it.

Independent

You always want your kids to be independent. It makes you proud when they take it upon themselves to do things. That said, you start to wonder what the limit on independence is when you walk into your living room to find that in the 2 minutes you were gone, your 3 year-old has done this...

Massive Failure

Sleep training last night was a massive failure...or as the kids say EPIC FAIL. Amelia eventually did fall asleep in her room, but we had to sit outside it until then. Everett, on the other hand, screamed nonstop for as long as we let him...over and over and over and over and over and over again. By the end of it, we decided maybe he isn't quite ready for that type of thing. Ultimately, we probably both know we need to lock her in her room and just let him wail until they both submit. However, we both also know that losing our jobs due to getting zero sleep probably isn't the best solution either. I mean, who wants to say "Hey, we may be homeless due to foreclosure, but our kids go to sleep on their benches all by themselves!"??

Wish Us Luck

After another night of bed visits by Amelia and crying spells by Everett, we decided tonight is the night to really start sleep training our kids. Wish us luck because as far as I can tell, sleep training consists of letting your kids cry themselves into submission...and my kids aren't fond of submission.

Memory Lane

One of the lucky side effects of filming Amelia's ballet recital was that we came across several videos we took when she was a baby. Watching these videos reminds me of 1) how much Everett reminds me of her (if he were to wear a wig) and 2) how little I remember about Amelia's first few months of life. Here is a video of her when she was Everett's age...

Snug as a Bug

Just to give you a slight glimpse into the kind of nights we've been having with Amelia, here are a few highlights from our evening last night...

- We put Amelia to bed at 8:30...at 11:00, we were all still awake.
- She repeatedly let us know she "loves our bed"
- After 11pm, she made the choice to give up the ability to watch TV (because that is for big girls who sleep in their own bed) in order to sleep on our floor.
- At around 3am, I found her wedged under our bed with her head stuck. I had to physically lift the bed off her while Meggan dragged her out by her feet.

On a side note...Amelia was the GOOD sleeper in our house last night. Ev woke up just about every hour. Yaaay.

Ev's First Meal

Everett enjoyed his first taste of solid food today. He was hoping for a cheeseburger, but we opted for some form of oatmeal mush instead.  Overall, I think the reviews were mixed. His favorite part of the meal....his fingers.

Welcome Home

Amelia came home today after spending 5 days with Grandma and Grandpa. Let's just say it is obvious there is going to be an adjustment period - for her and for us. I was getting used to saying "potty words", having free time, and watching TV that isn't animated...and I'm guessing Amelia enjoyed her time of lawless partying, pounding beers, and playing no limit poker....or whatever it is you do at your grandparents' house. That said, it sure is nice to have my little girl back.

Guests

Ev: So, how does this whole blog thing work?

Sophie: Just sit there with your big ole head and look good. I'm a veteran blogger. I'll do the work.

Ev: What? I don't have a big head. My mom said I'm beautiful.

Sophie: Aww, you're cute. Listen, kid, the first thing I'll teach you is never trust your parents. They're liars.

Ev: What about my big sister?

Sophie: Oh, Lord. She's the worst. She manipulates with her sweet face. But, believe me, she's a stone cold killer. If you know what's best for you, you'll stay away from her. I'm the only one who will be honest with you.

Ev: Gee, Sophie, I don't know. Amelia said you would say all those bad things about her because you are jealous.

Sophie: Damn. She's already gotten to you.

Ev: No, no, no. It's okay. The three of us can all be friends and play together.

Sophie: Oh yeah, that's right. I forgot. We live in a 1950's sitcom.

Ev: Ooooh, can I play the lovable family dog?

Sophie: Uhhh, noooo. It would be ridiculous for you to play the dog considering I'm an actual dog.

Ev: You're a dog?!?

Sophie: What did you think I was?!?

Ev: To be honest, I had a bet with Travis from next door. I had a rattle and two pacifiers on the line saying you were a rat-chupacabra mix.

Sophie: So, I bark and have a nubby tail and you thought it was more likely that I was a cross between a sewer rodent and a legendary creature many believe doesn't exist rather than a dog?

Ev: Well, I mean, when you say it like that , it sounds like I was a bit off base. Wow..consider me embarrassed. So, what kind of dog are you? German Shepard? Golden?

Sophie: Seriously?!?

Ev: Hey, we can't all be the E-Trade baby.

Sophie: What's that smell? Did you just poop yourself?

Ev: Sorry. I poop when I'm embarrassed.

Sophie: Okay, that's it. I can't do this anymore.

Ev: Don't judge me.

Where I stand

I mentioned I was a little worried Amelia was going to have such a good time at her grandparents' that she wasn't going to want to come home. Well, I got a very clear picture of where I stand this morning.  Not only has she let us know she is staying for "7 days" - a number that does not decrease with each subsequent day, but she wouldn't even bother to get on the phone to talk to me.  So, in case I had any delusions that she missed me and couldn't wait to see me...she helped reality bring me back to Earth.

Lonely

On Sunday, Amelia went to stay with her grandparents for a few days. There were multiple reasons for this. First of all, she is awesome so they have been begging us to let it happen. Secondly, aside from us, they have spent the most time caring for her - bath time, bed time, giving her meds, etc. so she is comfortable there. Lastly, with Everett being sick again, we are trying to separate the two of them to break the cycle of them trading illnesses. This being the first time she's been away from us, we weren't sure how we'd feel about it. With no surprise, we have had mixed emotions. It is very nice to have quite a bit more free time and even more quiet time. That said, when you take Amelia out of the house, you take 25% of the people and 75% of the energy.  On the flip side, any concerns for how Amelia would feel about it were alleviated when she was so excited to see them she essentially didn't even tell me goodbye. As a matter of fact, after speaking to her tonight, I'm pretty concerned she's never going to want to come home...and we'll have to change that because I miss my buddy.

Ballerina

As promised...

Ballerina

Amelia's recital went off without a hitch today. I will try to post video as soon as I can solve the problem I have of not having a cable that connects my video camera to my computer. For now, here are some pics from the day.

Learning the Hard Way

Ever wonder what it looks like to be a three year-old who refuses to clean your mess or stop climbing on your baby brother's jumper resulting in it tipping over on top of you in a pile of your own toys only to have your dad take a picture of your fallen* body instead of helping you up? Well, it looks like this...

I guess some lessons are just only learned the hard way.

* Disclaimer - No three-year olds were harmed in the making of this post.