Kindergarten Review and These Kids Got Game

Friends! Family! Whoever you are viewing my blog in Alaska, Germany, and Russia!

We made it! Month One of Kindergarten is in the books for TJ, and likewise for Lola in French Preschool. We have been inundated with requests for updates and questions about how the first days/weeks/months went for the bigs starting school, so I thought the best way to share without overwhelming ourselves with media requests would be to resurrect the ol' blog and start posting some videos. Because I need more things to do ;)

TJ is LOVING kindergarten. His teachers are fantastic and he thoroughly enjoys his classroom environment, he pops right out of bed everyday for his 6:15 wake up call excited to go to his school, and I have not heard one negative story about a classmate yet. When I pick him up everyday it's like walking through the classroom with the Mayor as "Bye TJ!" echoes from every corner, and T points, waves, high fives, and schmoozes his way to the door where Lola is always waiting for a giant hug. 

TJ's class is half kindergartners, half first-graders - a unique concept, for sure, but one that we are very happy he has the opportunity to experience. The first-graders and kindergartners are together for activities and learning in the class more often than not, but are separated for subject study like reading, handwriting practice, and math. The first-graders show the kindergartners "the ropes" and it seems everyone gets along famously with more cohesion than separation.

TJ's teachers are absolutely incredible ladies and at the end of each week T brings home a "Weekly Review" where the kids vote and decide on one thing to share about each day in the week, and the class VIP for the day (the line leader) draws a picture of the activity to include in the Weekly Review. 

At the end of each month the kids take the time to create an exhaustive list of allllllllll of the things they did and accomplished that month, and the teachers type up the list and send it home. The "September Celebration" or "Giant List of Stuff We Did in September" is what we have prepared in a video for your viewing pleasure today. The first 6 weeks of school revolve around a lot of "getting acclimated" and "getting to know you" activities. You may not understand exactly what the heck he's talking about or referencing in the video, but that's ok - this is the rendition of the most important things that took place during the first month of school according to the kids in the class.

Before you ask, yes TJ is reading! He's been a full-on reader for a little over 6 months now, and he's really enjoying it. He reads chapter books and LOVES bringing home a new book from the school library every week to read us at bedtime every night. The video here is about nine minutes long, so grab a snack, settle in, and without further adieu...TJP...

 

I make absolutely zero promises that we'll do this every month - but we'll try! I also make no promises I'll get around to updating the blog on a regular basis, but again - the intention is there and I'll do my best to find the time. I highly recommend you follow the blog if you would like to receive any updates I post!

I'll also leave you with these little video nuggets below. The first is what Lola was doing when you heard her yelling at doggies in the background of TJ's video. All I can say is thank Jeebus she was fully clothed...this time. The other video is a glimpse into Saturday mornings in our football-obsessed household. Gameday, baby!

 

 

Much Love from the Land of Littles!

CP

When I grow up I want to be: "BIG!"

So if you're a Pinterest devotee like mee, you may have seen the "Birthday Interview" pins sprinkled aboot. Being the little joiner that I am, I compiled a list of questions for TJ and conducted his three-year-old interview a couple days after his bday.

We even got through 2/3 of my 50 questions - not counting follow-ups. I mean, what kind of interviewer would I be if I wasn't prepared with questions, and thinking on my feet for those hard-hitting follow-ups? I have cred to maintain.

So, without further adieu...

Ladies and Gentlemen - THIERRY JAMES PAAARRRRR, 3 years old! (My comments are the words in italics.)

What is your name: "TJ."
How old are you: "Free!" We don't quite have that "th" sound down yet :)
What is your favorite color: "Black."
What is your favorite toy: "Dump trucks."
What is your favorite fruit: "Apples."

Doing good so far...

What is your favorite lunch: "Lasagna!"  

We've never had lasagna for lunch. Not once. But I digress.

What is your favorite game: "Fishy's!"
What is your favorite animal: "Horses!"
 - Me: "Any horse in particular?" 
 - TJ: "BENNY!" (Shout out Aunt Allie-Poo)
What is your favorite song: "Horses."  

<Smile> Nope, not a duplicate answer, that's our kick-off anthem for bedtime songs

What is your favorite outfit: ...<Wide eyes>..."I don't know."
 - Me: "Soccer jersey?" 
 - TJ: "Ummm...yeah."
What is your favorite thing to do: "Push buttons." (Hides giggle)
What is your favorite toy: "You just said that!"
 - Me: "No I didn't"...<looks at list>..."oh, right, yes I did."

Gah! Stop being smarter than me! When does this STOP?!

What do you want to be when you grow up: "BIG!"  

So profound. So hilarious.

What is your favorite cereal: "Cheerios"
What is your favorite food: "I just said lasagna!" 

Note to self: learn the difference between lunch and general food. THAT is important life stuff.

Who is your favorite person to spend time with: "YOU! And dadda!"
What is your favorite thing to do outside: "Go in that truck that talks!" That's never happened. "And go high in the air...And hit golf balls with the 7-iron."

Yes. Except for the talking truck. I have no idea what that even is.

What is your favorite drink: "Lemonade!"
What is your favorite holiday: "Christmas. And birthday party."
What do you take to bed every night: "Nightnight and nook."
What is your favorite sport: "Soccer."
What is your favorite show: "Thomas!...I need to go potty."

<Intermission>

And we're back!

What is your favorite sports team: "GIANTS!"
 - Me: <confused...and not pleased> "...Excuse me?..."
 - TJ: "Giants, mama!"

<Deep sigh, shakes head> I mean...what?

And WHO DID THIS?!

WHO?!

Not gonna lie. I needed a minute to compose myself before I continued the interview.

And then this...

What is your favorite birthday dinner: "LA-SAGN-NA, mama. LASAGNA...And candy."
Who is your best friend: "Dadda!" Saw that one coming.
Where do you live: "Rochester."
 - Me: "Where else?" (I was looking for "40!" or "Pink house!")
 - TJ: "Chicago." (Hmm..alright.)
 - Me: "Ok...where else?"
 - TJ: "Next to Mr. Tom. And Dennis."

I give up.
 
What do you do really well: "Poop." 

<Stifles an LOL> Now we're back on track.

What makes you laugh: "Jokes." Again with the profound!
What is your favorite book: "Itsy bitsy spider."
What is your favorite thing to do with your family: "...Am I done?..."

Yes. And you're 3.

<Big sigh>

So there ya go. 

Nostalgia. 

Eat it up.

We'll do this again next year. And hopefully 365 days is enough time to get good at something other than pooping.

Much love from next door to Mr. Tom and Dennis,
CP

Bless My Child and His Aversion to the Gluttony of Christmas

So TJ hates Christmas.

Ok, that’s an overstatement.

Especially considering TJ loves himself some Christmas, but it’s not the presents he loves.

No, no. It’s the tree, and the stockings and the lights and the special movies and the sledding and the hot chocolate that he loves.

But seriously, not so much the presents.

Christmas morning came and I thought T would be ecstatic to open his presents and see all of the new things Santa brought him. Our Christmas day schedule is pretty jam-packed, and our plan was to wake up early, eat a quick breakfast and then go straight to Yaya and Poppy’s house. After that we would return to our house and have Christmas with my parents who were visiting for the holiday. I was nervous that T would see all the presents under the tree at our house as we were leaving, and not want to go to Yaya and Poppy's. So I hatched an ingenious plan to have his shiny new workbench from Santa all put together so he could play with that and hopefully be averted from wanting to open the presents under the tree before it was time.

So on Christmas morning he came into the living room, and there...next to the tree...was his <trumpets sound> new workbench!…and he had no idea what to do with it or why it was there.

Cool hammer, what’s for breakfast?

I think he was actually very confused. We showed him the workbench and all of its little accessories and noise-making capabilities…but, not being one to stray too far from his routine, all TJ really cared about was what was for breakfast, and which show he could watch while he ate it. No mention of presents under the tree. Nothing.

Oook.

So we went to Yaya and Poppy’s house for family Christmas. A mountain of presents was under the tree, and when we walked in I was thinking – “oh yeah, here we go, TJ is going to love this!”

But, nope. Still didn’t really care about the presents.

He got a Big Wheel, which he sat on for approximately 1.4 seconds, and then got off.

Cool Big Wheel, can I get off now?

 I had to open his last 5 or so presents. He just wasn’t interested.

Then we went back to our house to have Christmas with my parents, and I’m thinking, “ok – now he knows the drill, and he has seen all the presents under the tree at our house, heeeere we go, he’s going to go nuts for his presents this time.”

The kid seriously would not open his presents.

As soon as he opened one thing, he would get very upset when we would take it away so that he could open another. He just wanted to play with the presents he already had.

Eventually we stopped torturing him with gift unwrapping and he went to his room to play. I was certain he had to be playing with some new toy or other, so I snuck to the doorway of his room to snap a picture, to find he was deeply invested in one of the newly acquired gifts most boring things in his room…

Ah, States Puzzle, at last we can be together.

Fast forward to December 30, and all of his presents were finally unwrapped. Yes. Five days after Christmas, with some prodding and reminding from mom and dad, my child was finally forced to open the last of his Christmas presents.

The stuff he received for Christmas hasn’t all been played with yet, but all gifts have all been liberated from their festive Christmas wrappings.

Maybe we’ll just keep some of them in storage and wrap them up again next year. He wouldn’t know.

Or, and I am seriously considering this idea, maybe we will forgo presents for him altogether next year, and for his birthday in August, and instead just say that in lieu of gifts people can make a contribution to his college fund.

At the very least we are having a massive pre-Christmas purge of old toys before we bring home anything new next year. My house is a freaking hoarders dream right now, with all of the stuff sitting around it – and TJ wouldn’t even know if it wasn’t there!

At any rate, bless my little baby boy’s heart for not getting into the gluttonous spirit of Christmas just yet. I’m not counting on that being a permanent thing. He is an American, after all.

Red and Green Tinsely Yuletides,

Christa

This is a staged photo taken a week after Christmas for our Thank You postcard. He didn’t even get excited about unwrapping trains on Christmas morning!

“I have no idea what’s going on either, but that’s ok because I’m adorable!”

Hey! Everybody! Meet Little Lady Lola!

Whelp, it's official, I had a baby.

Miss Lola Ann was born August 7, weighing in at a robust 8 lbs, 9 oz and measuring 20.5 inches long. She has a head full of brown hair, and beautiful blue eyes, 10 fingers, 10 toes and quite a pair of lungs. She enjoys eating, sleeping, pooping and being worn in her carrier as mom shops or eats while trying not to drop food on her.

Smiley Little Lady, Two Days Old

What? What's that? You want to hear the story of the day she was born?

OK! And for those of you not in the know, you can read TJ's day-of-my-birth story here.

So it was a Monday like any other. My mom was in town and I had stayed home from work that day, as I was 41 weeks pregnant and no longer amused by schlepping, well, anywhere, but especially to work. We watched the Olympics that evening (what else), I read blogs (what else), peed a lot and did my best to ignore the aches and soreness in my abdominal area that had become routine over the past couple weeks.

Tom was working that night and as soon as I talked to him at 10 p.m. when he got off work and he told me he was going out for a drink with some of his co-workers, I just knew our late little bundle of joy would be arriving that night.

And I was right!

I went to bed around 12:30 a.m. and that's when I noticed the achey soreness in my abdominal region had started to come and go in a bit of a pattern. It didn't hurt enough to really bother me so I did my best to relax and rest until Tom got home.

Fast forward to 2 a.m., Tom got home and came to bed.

Me: "Don't get too comfortable."

Tommy: "Why?....Seriously?"

Me: "Yeah buddy, this is definitely happening." <I make large circular motion with my arm over my giant baby bump area>

Tommy: "I knew it! I knew if I went out it would happen today...and I was right!"

Me: "Yeah, I knew it too. Rest while you can, I haven't timed anything but these suckers are definitely getting closer together."

He didn't listen. Tom tried his best to lay down and relax for approximately 3 minutes, before he insisted I call the midwife, then go sit in the tubby, and he began his pacing.

So that's what I did. The midwife (her name is Faith and she's awesome) told me to stay home as long as I was comfortable and to shoot for having my contractions be 5 minutes apart for about an hour before coming in.

Thank Jeebus we didn't listen to her!

I sat in the tub for about 20 minutes, TJ "randomly" woke up (ahem Tom, loudest laugher ever), and my contractions got more intense and closer together. Tom had called his mom to share the news already, and it was at about this time that Tom's stepdad Ken texted and told us to "stop dicking around and get to the hospital."

Sound advice, Ken.

I got dressed, called the midwife to tell her we were on our way, we zipped up our hospital bag (which had been packed for like a month and a half), took one last picture with T as a family of three, and headed out the door.


Headed to the hospital - last photo as a family of three.

I proceeded to have three contractions on the walk to the car, then three more in the car, then three more during the 100 yard walk from the parking garage to the emergency room entrance.

Once in the ER I presented the requisite ID's, as well as my pre-registration paperwork to expedite our check-in (pat on the back, me), hopped in a wheelchair and headed to OB Triage. Once there I changed into my so-stylish hospital gown, got hooked up to some stuff, and was told I was dilated to 6 centimeters. Yeah buddy.

OB Triage
 

It was about this time that Tom figured out there was a set of numbers on the monitor I was hooked up to that told when I was having a contraction and how strong it was. This was a fun discovery for him. He then provided a running contraction commentary for me for the duration of our stay in OB Triage.

After we had been in OB Triage for about 30 minutes (it was now around 4:45 a.m.), I started to get a little testy, and really hot and sweaty because the contractions were very intense and fast at this point, and all I could do was lay on this stupid gurney waiting for the nurses to complete paperwork and get me admitted. One nurse made me lay on my side, and as soon as she left my curtain cell I literally spit hatred on her name during my next contraction and then figured out a way to stand up with all the stuff still attached to me. This backfired a bit when I discovered all I could do from there was move around like a caged animal in the approximately 2.1 cubic feet of space allowed by all of the wires and cords on my person.

Finally, FINALLY we were ready to move to our delivery room and it was at this point I was basically completely immobilized everytime I had a contraction and they were only about a minute and a half apart.

We got to our delivery room a little after 5 a.m. and Tom immediately started the shower for me as I clumsily tried to put my bathing suit on. All I wanted was to escape to the sweet sweet little sanctuary that had been so comforting when I delivered T. I didn't quite get there, though. Between the nurse putting more stupid monitors on my belly, my ineptness at changing, and the fact that (Whoopsie!) my water finally broke, I didn't actually make it to a real shower until the next day.

As soon as my water broke I told the nurse (between expletives) I needed to start pushing. She ran into the hallway to get my midwife and a team of others, and the real party started. I'll spare you the intimate details, and just skip to the part where a crying baby was placed in my jurisdiction, Tommy cut the cord and at 5:26 a.m., only two hours after we  had left our house (thanks again Ken), our second little miracle came to be!

Lola
 

We took pictures, made phone calls, studied her little face and marveled at how fast it all went down. I, for one, was thanking the HEAVENS that it went so fast, as I opt for the natural childbirth method, I really don't know if I could have handled that intense of contractions for too much longer - it was seriously ridiculous. But, just like our first labor we came through it on the other side with a smile, and a healthy, seemingly content little baby! The rest of our hospital stay was uneventful. And BORING. But this time we came armed with reading material, and the Olympics was on, sooo.

Watching the Olympics, obv.


Tom needed to take a load off after the long night.
 

Fast forward to now, baby Lola is still a dream. She has assimilated very well into our little family unit so far, sleeps like 20 hours out of 24 and eats like a champion. I'm thinking she just may fulfill her daddy's wishes and become a competitive eater. Of course, he only wants that to keep the boys away, but judging by the way the child eats I would not be surprised if it came to fruition, and the only milkshakes brought to her yard are vanilla, chocolate or strawberry.

TJ is adjusting like a champion too. He came to the hospital to meet Lola that Tuesday afternoon and was more engrossed in pushing the red button on the side of my bed than he was with fawning over his new baby sister. Whatevs, he's 2. Since we brought her home there has been only one incidence of hugging too hard that basically gave me a heart attack, but other than that he's been gentle and loving, and even tries conversating with Lola.

T, Lola. Lola, T. Love each other, kay? Thanks.
 

T: <As we load up to go to the store> "Lola, you coming to the store toooo?"

Lola: <Blank stare...looks at something shiny...sees her hand move out of the corner of her eye and watches it suspiciously...>

T: <Confused as to why he is being ignored> "Momma, Lola coming too?"

Me: "Yes, boyo, Lola is coming too."

T: <Big smile> "OOOOOK! Alright!"

Me: <Big smile...accompanied by little heart flutter>

And our story continues...

Ciao from Babyland,

Christa

P.S. Enjoy this picture parade of the last three weeks...

  

Hanging out with T right after coming home from the hospital

 

My dad (Pop Pop to the kiddies) pushing the stroller on our first family walk after coming home from the hospital. That buggy is a beast.

 

Pretty Sleeping Girl

 

Lola with my mom (aka ShlimShlam, or Ding Dong) Ready for Kelly Jo's wedding

 

Teej and Lo with Pop Pop and Shlim right after the Altgilbers nuptials

 

Family pic

 

With smiley great-gramma Hitz

 

 

It's Yaya!

 

In her pretty purple tutu, a gift from Yaya!

 

First trip to Roc City to meet the fam, two of Tom's siblings Rachael and Dan (aka ChaCha and Deepers)

 

WE ARE...Broken.

*Disclaimer: This post is super long. Like as long as my whole site put together. I’m working through a lot of feelings here! You’ve been warned.

MSN is my homepage and when I opened it yesterday morning the NCAA sanctions issued against Penn State was the lead story on the rotating banner…Aurora, Colorado updates were second. Yikes. But this post is not about how crazed our society is about sports. No, this post is about my personal feelings and reactions to everything that has gone down in the Penn State saga since last year when the allegations against one of the sickest men in the world were first brought to light. When the Penn State world I knew and lived in started to crumble, and the greatness of the revered name Paterno was threatened.

We Are Penn State?

More like, We Are Sad…We Are Disgusted…We Are Disappointed.

To be clear I am not sad about the NCAA rulings, and I am not sad Joe Paterno’s statue was taken down. In fact, I think that was the right thing to do. The Paterno paraphernalia in our house (and there was plenty of it) has also been taken down and stored. Maybe we’ll want to look at it someday.

Then again, maybe we won’t.

Cheering for Penn State in my family is a legacy thing. My husbands family is full of Penn State alums and diehard Nittany Lion football fans. Among them are his dad who went there to play football, his mom who was a cheerleader, and his beloved grandfather and grandmother who met there. It is this grandfather, Pop-Pop, who instilled in TP a deep love and loyalty to the blue and white. Cheering for Penn State was a special thing they shared week in and week out, and a lifelong bond between the two Tom has always cherished and remembered fondly.

The scandal at Penn State has ripped Tommy apart on the inside. He remains ragged and disillusioned…Let down and weary…Angry and heartbroken. He doesn’t believe in much, could be classified by some as cynical, but Penn State football and its unflappable coach Joe Paterno never let him down. His Pop-Pop believed wholeheartedly in the goodness, integrity and character of good ol’ JoePa, so for Tom there was no way that could be wrong.But now it is. And has been for nearly 15 years.Talk about disappointment. That word is the tip of the iceberg.

*****
Rewind to November when this story broke – we were at best shocked, and at worst on the verge of a breakdown. We found it hard to believe that the actions in this scandal could have taken place at Penn State of all places, and we downright refused to believe that JoePa could have possibly had anything to do with it.Tom and I had just taken TJ to the Penn State vs. Northwestern game here in Evanston at the end of October, and had had an absolutely fabulous day tailgating, walking around the campus, visiting the Alumni Association tent, taking part in the pre-game festivities, and cleaning out the free swag tables as we filled our pockets with Penn State buttons, window stickers, flags, pom-poms and pennants. JoePa tied the record for winningest coach that night, and life was good.

Little did we know what was just around the corner. And little did we know we had been in attendance for JoePa’s next to last game as the Nittany Lions fearless leader.

*****
Through the stages of this saga, we have moved/are moving through the classic five stages of grief. Dramatic? This is serious stuff, folks. You want to talk about a sports-crazed society, my family is absolutely in that classification, but that’s not what this post is about.

When the news broke we were clearly in denial over JoePa’s possible involvement – it was IMPOSSIBLE – and that quickly turned to anger. We were angry at those accusing JoePa of wrongdoing, angry that he was fired and angry that any of this was happening in the first place. JoePa, we believed then, was head and shoulders above this kind of scandal and heinous wrongdoing.

As more and more facts came to light and we accepted that this really had happened at Penn State we moved from anger to bargaining. Sandusky was/is the criminal – beyond defense. He’s basically the lowest form of human existence possible – and we fully recognized and accepted that…so leave JoePa alone. It was Sandusky who did something wrong, it couldn’t have been Paterno. JoePa tried to help, he did his due dilligence – it’s Sandusky and the athletic director and the school president that you want so take them and leave JoePa out of it – he tried to help.

In hindsight, of course I’m not proud of feeling this way, but it was the way I felt.

JoePa passed away and it was easy to continue holding him in esteem, he died with a broken heart, after all. Then Sandusky was convicted and we watched him with disdain as he was marched off to prison. Justice was served (although there will never really be justice for his victims) and we thought maybe the healing could begin.

We thought wrong…the worst for the JoePa faithful was yet to come.

The depression phase set in with the release of the Freeh report and its disturbing findings. We got the sads at our house with that information. Until then it was easy to continue believing JoePa was above reproach. But the truth was revealed, and it was disturbing. And I hated it. But it is what it is, and with yesterdays announcement of the NCAA sanctions against our beloved Nittany Lions I think we can start to move toward the final stage of acceptance, for all of it.

My reaction to the NCAA? I’m glad you asked (and because this post isn’t long enough already…)

The kill shot here is vacating all wins from 1998 to last year, and JoePa no longer being revered as the winningest coach in college football. The NCAA obviously believes JoePa should be punished individually, I agree, and posthumously this is really the only way anyone can do it, whether it be the university, the law or an athletic governing board.

This is JoePa’s indictment, arrest and conviction for his involvement.

As has been speculated, I don’t know if Paterno chose not to blow the whistle on Sandusky because he wanted to stay in the hunt for the winningest coach title. To be honest, I don’t care – take it. Take the title. And the wins. If there is one iota of a chance in infinity that it’s true, and now I believe it could be (I certainly didn’t before the Freeh report), then he doesn’t deserve to hold that prestigious record. If attaining that crowning achievement came at the cost of innocent boys being horrifically abused, then he does not deserve it.

Let’s be real, though…You can change the record books, but you can’t change history. Penn State won those games. If you want to take JoePa out of the equation – great, I’m on board, and I recognize it’s impossible to take the wins from him without taking them from the team too. But the players fought for those wins and earned them and my family will continue to recognize that, even if the Big 10 record book says otherwise.

Furthermore…There is nothing…NOTHING…seriously not A THING anyone can do to make up for what happened to those boys who were the victims of sexual abuse at the hands of the monster JoePa helped protect.

I have a son. We’re huge Penn State fans. If my son happened to be good at football and we lived in, or near, State College you bet your buttons we would send our kid to Penn State football camp. Just like those unsuspecting victims’ parents did. Unknowingly sent their children to a veloci-predators breeding ground.

And people knew it was happening.

JoePa knew.

Knew that boys were being raped, RAPED, in the locker room shower.

And he swept it under the rug.

Take the titles. Take his wins. Fine the daylights out of them for every dime they will make from football during the 2012 season. Make sure they don’t have a legit winning season for 10 years and no one wants to play for the team. It doesn’t make up for anything, but please take it all.

I do feel pretty bad for the kids currently on the Penn State roster. It’s going to be like a legit 10 years before Penn State is competitive in college football again, and for the next four years every player on those teams will know they have no chance of playing in a Big 10 Championship Game, let alone a BCS Bowl Game, let alone a National Championship.That sucks for them. They work hard. And they didn’t do anything wrong.

I think the thing that gets me the most about all of this (aside from the plight of the true victims, of course) is that we will someday have to explain it to our son. And a love for Penn State football may not be something Tom and TJ get to share now. He will grow up a Penn State fan because we will continue to watch them on Saturdays  – but he won’t see a winning team for what, 10 years? 15 years? Tommy and TJ likely won’t bond over the Nittany Lions the way Tom and his grandfather were able to in the programs glory days, when they won championships and JoePa was invincible and the program represented everything right in sports and college football and life.

TJ will see the photos of himself – some of his first photos – wearing his Penn State jersey onesie and posed on his Penn State quilt. He’s going to see the videos of himself as a nine-month old baby throwing his hands up in a Touchdown signal when someone says, “What does Penn State make?” And he's going to hear the stories about how he was known in Chicago as "the Penn State baby." All representative of a time when we thought idolizing Penn State and its legendary coach as a beacon of one thing that is still right and good in the world would be a lifelong family endeavor. But that will not be a lesson we get to teach him, or a belief we get to share, and that makes me sad. Because it was an inspiring message.

Are we still Penn State fans? Yes. For our family cheering for Penn State is a legacy, and that will not change. It will be a long time before they have a team on the field that will probably be worth cheering for. And our beliefs about the man and the program we once lauded have shifted greatly.

But, We Are Penn State, and with heavy hearts that weep for the real victims of this tragic indignant situation, We Are...Ready to Move On.

 

Thanks for Sticking Around to the End, My Three Reading Warriors,

Christa

It’s Official, My Almost-Two-Year-Old is Smarter Than Me.

TJ is 23 months – you know what that means…

The Terrible Two’s

He has hit these stereotypical “personality milestones” early throughout his life, and the TT’s have been no exception. A couple of months ago he started screaming for no reason, throwing little tantrums and saying, “No” to pretty much everything, even things we knew he wanted.

The great thing about T is that he is a smart, smart boy and it’s been pretty easy to curb these behaviors with little frustration for me and Tom, and lots and lots of repetition for T. He responds well when Tom and I firmly tell him his behavior is inappropriate, explain why, and give him an example of an appropriate response. Tedious for us? You bet. But his outbursts are fewer and farther between every day, so the approach we’ve taken seems to be working with him.

Smarty-pants little boy, for sure.

I got a taste this morning of just how smart, though…and by that I mean, my child proved this morning that he is smarter than me.

I had just finished getting TJ dressed for the day and was telling him what we were getting ready to do…

Me: “We’re going to put on shoes, and then take mama to work in the white car. Can you please pick night-night and nook up off the floor and put them in your crib?”

T: “No?”

Me: “Thierry James, please pick up night-night and nook and put them in your crib.”

T: <In whiney crybaby drama voice> “Noooooo!”

Me: “That is an inappropriate reaction, I don’t want to hear the word ‘No’ from you anymore.”

I stupidly continued, here's where it gets good…

Me: “What does mama say when you ask her to do something for you? I say ‘Let’s do it…Ok…I would love to’ and that’s what you need to say when I ask you to do something.”

T: <Gives me the side eye> “Mama wanna go to the zoo?....Mama no go to work, and go to the zoo with Thierry James? OK!...I would love to!”

Me: <Dumbfounded…Staring...Oh. My. Lord.>

TJ proceeded to laugh and of course I joined him. I was actually in awe. What a little stinker! I mean, I painted myself into a corner with that one - but seriously?

He’s outsmarting me already? Winning the battle of wits?!

But I’m so witty!

It’s on, kid. It is so on.

I’ve said it a million times before, and I will say it a million times more…this parenting thing is going to be fun.



Devious little grin, if I've ever seen one.

Enjoy a Tempertastic Tuesday Friends!
Christa

Poopy Poop Poop Dung Feces Excrement.

In case you couldn't tell this is a shit-tastic post. As in poop. No there will not be pictures. Except ones I draw myself. And yes mom and grandma, I will probably drop the "s-word" a few more times.

So I'm 37 weeks preg-perego with this squirmy wormy baby girl in my belly and of course I'm really excited to meet her and cuddle with her and talk to her and love on her - that really goes without saying. But today I made a realization. The amount of excrement I will be handling on a daily basis is about to increase exponentially.

I cleaned up no fewer than 6 giant piles of dog crap today (half of which were IN MY HOUSE - anybody want a dog?), plus the two TJ poop diapers I changed (and that's everyday). In addition, we have to factor in a husband who likes to talk about feces and generally requires a toilet-plunging lesson everytime he's finished going number 2, and now we are adding a new baby who will have the (non-smelly, thank GOD) breastmilk runs eleventy-billion times a day. I mean, we are just talking about a whole lotta shit here.

I love my TJ more than anything, I would literally give the heart out of my chest for him, and that fact is made clear to me in part because I don't even mind changing his poopy diapers. I'm sure I'm just like most moms and actually feel a bit of relief when he has his regular bowel movements, just so I know everything is working alright in there.

T has pooped in the potty exactly one time, and I pretty much wanted to throw him a parade. In fact, when he is officially potty-learned I probably will embark on a one-woman ticker tape affair down Michigan Avenue. I'll say "Happy Poop Day" to people, because this is something my child actually says, usually when I'm trying to get him to say "Happy Birthday" to friends or fam on the phone and he gets bored.

The dogs are a different story.

I hate.

Cleaning up.

Dog poop.

So you can imagine how thrilled I was today to clean up the brontosaurus-sized piles of dung IN MY HOUSE, and outside today. The last time I took them out I didn't even take plastic bags with me, thinking there was NO WAYYYYY they could possibly have more poop to poop, but I was wrong.

So yesss, that makes me the asshole who didn't clean up after her dogs on Marshfield today - apologies friends.

So that's where my head is at today, as I'm weeks-to-days away from having a baby. Not on the fact that I haven't packed my hospital bag, or that I need to make my final call to be sure the new baby insurance paperwork is all squared away, or on getting her bed set up or buying a new changing table pad for the bedroom. No, no, no. I'm in feces-land. Thinking about how much more poopy poop crap feces I'm going to be elbow-deep in.

Ooh, the things the books don't talk about :)

Brown squishy love hugs,

Christa

Like Peas and Carrots

In honor of Father’s Day, today I pay homage to The Man and daddy of my babies – TOMMAAYYYY. First, for the one of you reading out there who is not related to me, allow me to introduce you to my sparkle heart husb. With photos. And comments.

This is Tom.

He pulls his pants down when he doesn’t want his picture taken.

He likes to watch Hoarders and then “practice” for someday when he gets to become one.

He’s a majah USA Soccer fan...actually a major soccer fan in general, but this pic is from our cheer parties during the 2010 World Cup. We were U-S-A, all the way. Yes that is a flag banner hanging on the wall.

(Aside: Let me try and give you an idea of how much Tomas hearts soccer...I have seen my husband cry exactly three times – one was when our son was born, and another was when the USA soccer team defeated Algeria in the 2010 World Cup. You remember that right? Because like me, your husband made you decorate the house in red, white and blue and take off work for every game the USA played in the 2010 World Cup, right? NO? That was just ME?! Shocking.)

He’s Santa Clause…Don’t tell your kids.

He peed in this shoe because he hated it. And no he was not intoxicated. Just decided to pee in my shoe one day so I couldn't wear it anymore. I was laughing too hard to even be mad.

I don’t even…just…yep, that's my man.

He HATES looking directly at the camera for photos.

And he lurrrrves his baby boy.

I know, I know, every dad loves his boy, but this pair is truly two of a kind. TJ is the happiest, loviest, smartest kid I know, and I credit most of that to the time he spends with his daddy. Tom and T spend all day everyday together and when I get home both still have a smile on their face, and TJ has a sparkle in his eye - and lots of stories to tell.

They go to the park.

They both generally adhere to the "Sun's out, Gun's out" policy in the summertime, whenever possible.

They chill.

They read together. In matching chairs.

They stroll their way to daily adventures.

They wrestle.

They do cool stuff, like go to car shows so T can dazzle yellow lamborghini owners with his expertise on their car.

They cheer for Penn State.

Whether it's in the kitchen, at the park or on the beach, they play soccer pretty much every single day.

They laugh…a LOT. In fact, I think they have a new little inside joke pretty much everyday too.

When I put TJ to bed every night, the last thing I say to him is "Momma will be here when you wake up," and his response every single night that Tom is at work when he goes to sleep is the same - "and Dadda be here too!"

TJ and Dadda are like peas and carrots, and I could not ask for a better teacher, or more devoted, fun and loving father for my babies.

Happy Father’s Day Pooper! - I hope you know I appreciate you everyday and not just on this one.

Continuing to harbor strong feelings of affection for you,
Wife