Never Again

Once again I find myself being the dutiful "Cat Wife": flying solo during the week while Cole is in Wyoming visiting a mine site. I shouldn't complain too much because while Cole's coworkers, through no fault of their own, were dropping like flies a couple of years ago when Cat was really struggling, Cole never lost his job. He we are two years later and Cole is still employed and is FINALLY going to settle into the position he was hired to fill four YEARS, yes YEARS, ago. So much for, "We just need you to fill in for three months."

Anyway, Cole had to leave on Tuesday which also happened to be the day Ian's 11 external stitches needed to be removed. So, as you can imagine, the stitches are still in Ian's eyebrow. KIDDING!!! As much as I did NOT want to take Ian to his doctor's appointment, I knew there was no avoiding it. I had been dreading the removal since he was sewn up last Wednesday night. We have several nurses in the family who were more than qualified to remove the stitches, but I didn't want Ian to have any negative associations with his family members so I scheduled his regular pediatrician to do the suture removal. Better.

Right after returning from the E.R.

Tuesday afternoon we waited, and waited, and waited to be called into the exam room. With every passing second I became more and more uneasy about what was to come. "I need to be drugged," kept running through my head. I wanted to march out declaring, "I have somewhere I need to be!", but I knew that wasn't a possibility. Finally, the nurse called us back. I was so jittery I was considering kicking Eli out of the stroller and sitting down myself. I know the boys could have pushed me. They are a couple of little brutes. But, I allowed Eli to keep his seat and led my little ducklings down an unfamiliar hallway. I have been taking the boys to Dr. Maranon since Ian was born. We have been to EVERY, SINGLE, well-baby check-up precisely as scheduled and not once had we trekked down this alternate corridor. I couldn't figure out where we were going, but when I turned the corner into the exam room, I suddenly realized, we weren't in Kansas anymore.

This room was not the inviting exam room of the well-baby variety. The first thing I laid eyes on was an oxygen tank standing prominently in the corner (oh, dear), large spotlights dangling from the ceiling (I don't particularly care for that), and two papoose boards hanging on the wall. (holy bleep). We were in foreign territory. This room was a torture chamber cleverly disguised as a pediatric exam room complete with hoses to cram down parents' throats to bring them back to life after seeing their children writhing in pain and terror. I immediately started to feel anxious. I had no time to get comfortable in the room because within seconds of the first nurse leaving, Dr. Maranon appeared along with another nurse. As soon as the door opened, my natural reaction to anything that induces anxiety (profuse sweating) was in full swing. And this particular incident was almost as horrible as the Chinese Acrobat Incident of 2007. Seriously........The Chinese Acrobat Incident!

Way back before Ian was a glimmer in our unsutured eyes, Cole and I went to see Chinese Acrobats. I was super jazzed from the time I heard about it on the radio until..........the chair stacking. At some point in the performance a man came onto the stage with an innocent looking chair. "Hmmmm. I wonder where this is going?", I thought. The man then took another chair, stacked it on the first, and stood proudly atop his small tower. "Fabulous!", I thought. "I know I would never stand on TWO chairs. That's terrifying!" Then, an assistant brought another chair. "What's this guy's deal?", I wondered. "Can't he see the trick is over?" But it wasn't over. It wasn't anywhere close to being over. The crazed lunatic standing on the top of the tower of chairs kept happily accepting each proffered chair and skillfully balancing them on top of each other. With each additional chair my heart would beat faster and my body temperature would rise. Eventually, Cole could see how horribly uncomfortable I was, and the tower was only half assembled. He was suspicious, though, and thought I was just being dramatic. He quickly realized I was not being dramatic I was FREAKING out and could not control what was going on. I started breathing deeply to keep myself from vomiting and couldn't even look at the stage. I could hear the gasps and cheers of the rest of the audience, so I knew the journey through my own personal hell was nowhere near being over. Before long I was actually crying and shaking, and by the time the last chair was stacked my sweating was so out of control that I could leave wet hand prints on my pant legs, my hair was actually dripping with sweat, and my shirt was sticking to me. I have not watched another Chinese acrobat climb chairs since this fateful night, and I plan to keep it that way.

While Ian didn't stand on a tower of chairs to have his stitches removed, I was no less uncomfortable. I had to leave the room the night the stitches went in, but I didn't have Cole to "tag in" so I had to figure out a way to be there for my brave little man. At first the nurse laid Ian on the table without the papoose board. He was okay with this until the spotlight began burning his retinas. Having that light in your face is like standing on the surface on the sun. Not to mention, it puts out enough heat to cook a Thanksgiving turkey in less than an hour. Ian asked to have his eyes covered, and the nurse gently laid a white washcloth across his beautiful blues eyes. She then took his head firmly in her hands and positioned his face so Dr. Maranon could begin her work. I took my place at the foot of the table and held both of his soft little hands in mine. Here we go.

The first stitch came out without much trouble, but Ian didn't like it anyway. The second stitch was a bit more difficult. Ian started squirming while Dr. Maranon was cutting it loose, and by the time the third stitch was pulled free, he was clinging to me as tightly as he ever has. I did NOT want to let go of him. I couldn't believe what these monsters were doing to my baby. But, I knew they weren't monsters, and it just had to be done. I wasn't allowed to hold him long because his face had to remain sterilized, and shortly after he had jumped into my arms, he was being wrestled into the harsh, unloving embrace of the papoose board. He was terrified, and the more upset he became, the more my heart broke. He was sobbing uncontrollably and screaming, "Help me, mommy!" I managed to wiggle my oddly slim hand into one of the velcro restraints holding him still from his neck to his ankles. I couldn't grasp his hand so I had to settle for simply touching his outstretched fingers.

The stitches that HAD to come out

By this point I, too, was crying. I was also sweating so much I could feel my shirt sticking to my back. I wasn't the only one sweating. All of Ian's efforts to free himself from the papoose board were making him as sweaty as he's been in his entire life. I couldn't look at him because I couldn't bear to see the stitches being removed or the sadness in his face. I tried singing his favorite songs, but the stress of the situation turned my brain to mush, and I stumbled over the words and never made it through a single unaltered verse. I finally abandoned my singing attempts, which were getting us absolutely nowhere, and decided a sweet treat might be a better distraction. I suggested that after we were done we should go to Sonic to get a Cherry Limeade as cheerfully as my own tears would permit. Ian didn't want to hear my crappy ideas, he just wanted out of the spotlight and onto my lap.

The last two stitches were VERY difficult to remove. They were very small and very tight. Ian went bananas! He finally mustered enough energy to pull his head free of the papoose board and was on the loose from the neck up. It took quite a bit of effort from the nurse before Ian was once again held tightly enough that Dr. Maranon could finish the job that had my poor little boy so upset.

As soon as the last stitch was dropped into the pan I was ripping the velcro restraints open, freeing my Ian boy. He was soaking wet from his shoulders down, and could hardly catch his breath as I held him. He sobbed and wouldn't even look in the direction of Dr. Maranon and the nurse. Finally, there was a break through. Dr. Maranon asked if Ian would like a juice box. Ian's eyes were instantly sparkling again and he answered with a very enthusiastic, "YES!" This was a HUGE deal because my boys are not allowed to have juice. Why? Come over about 30 minutes after they drink a glass of juice and you'll know why. But, at that moment I didn't care if they pooped for 6 hours straight. As far as I was concerned, Ian could have WHATEVER he so desired.

The doctor left to get the goods, and Ian quickly relaxed. Secretly, I was hoping she was going to bring me a juice box (A.K.A. box of wine), too. That was absolutely gut wrenching. Soon, Ian was walking around, spinning the doctor's stools, and rapidly forgetting the most unpleasant procedure he had just been through. When Dr. Maranon reappeared with Mott's for Tots, Ian was ecstatic and so was Eli. Oh, yes. Eli had to sit in the stroller and experience the stitch removal as well. Some kids have a hard time with juice boxes. Not Eli. He immediately learned how to squeeze the hell out of it and spray himself with ultra sticky juice. I guess he's just advanced. I'm not sure what Ian was doing with the juice box. He was holding it gently and sucking the juice out through the straw. Huh. Weird concept.

By the time we walked to the car, Eli was SOAKED, and most likely parched since I don't think a single drop of juice graced his tongue, and Ian was laughing and smiling. I got the boys situated in their car seats and tucked the stroller into the trunk. When I got in the car I turned around to admire my lovely children. I asked Ian, "Are you okay, bud?" He just smiled and said, "My juice box making me so happy," and promptly returned to quenching his thirst.

Stitch Free Is the Way to Be!!

I've obviously given birth to two children, and child birth ain't painless. But, I definitely think that watching Ian in misery was far more painful than Eli's non-epiduraled birth, which was horrible. I am absolutely amazed at how quickly little kids move on from crappy situations and get on with life. I'm also incredibly glad that a few stitches were all that were required to return Ian to his old self. I know that being the mother of boys means learning to deal with injuries, especially since Eli, Wildman Extraordinaire, has another 17 years before he flies the coop, but I don't think this kind of thing will ever get easier. I'm just happy this particular wound is on the mend.

One Man's Trash, Is Another Man's Treasure

What's the best part of buying a house?

A. Having a home to call your own

B. Building your net worth

C. No longer sharing a yard or common wall(s) with your neighbors

D. Inheriting things from the prior owner

That's right! D. Inheriting things from the prior owner.

Not everything left in our house was of value to us. In fact, the microwave that shocked the $#!% out of me while we were painting before we moved in was quite the opposite of valuable. However, we were lucky enough to inherit an actual treasure. We've waited a long time to put it to use, but yesterday the time had come.

We bought our house from a elderly couple. They had lived here for only 10 years or so, and in that time they had a grandson. They did what any good grandparents would do and bought fabulous toys for him to keep and Grandma and Grandpa's house, ensuring their spots at the top of the "preferred adult" pyramid. The day that I came to do the final walk-through before closing on the house, I had 10-month-old Ian on my hip and a realtor in my wake. The elderly couple's son was cleaning out the last of the couple's belongings while we were there, and we exchanged pleasant hellos in passing, but nothing more. I couldn't wait for the house to be ours!

The day of the closing we all gathered around the glossy, wooden conference table at Summit Financial, and there was the son who had loving taken care of moving his parents' things from their former home. I had expected to see the actual owners, but his mother had passed away a year earlier and his father had very advanced Alzheimer's Disease, so he had the heartbreaking task of being his father's full-time care giver as well as his Power of Attorney. The man was quiet throughout the closing. He made a couple of comments that he was having an extremely difficult time having to sell his father's house without his father knowing, but his father's disease was so progressed that the poor man didn't have a clue about what was going on around him. However, he also expressed much relief to no longer worry about the upkeep of his father's home as well as his own and the needs of his family on top of the 24 hour care his father required.

As we were finishing signing our $$$ way for the next 30 years, the man told us he had noticed Ian on the day of the walk-through and had left a couple of toys in the basement that had belonged to his son. The owners' grandson was now 8 years old and had outgrown the toys years ago, but his grandparents had never gotten rid of the toys. I could only remember seeing one toy in the basement, as the basement was unfinished and very basementesque so I had mainly just kept my eyes on the floor and hoped nothing weird dashed across in front of me, so I assumed that HAD to be what he was talking about. I couldn't wait to see Ian playing with it! He then said, "It's been a long time since little feet went running through that house. I hope you enjoy it."

A little while later, we stepped out into the beautiful June 26th sunshine with a pep in our step and house keys in our pockets. We were the owners of a beautiful all-brick, one story ranch with HUGE picture windows, a GIGANTIC yard, two car garage, asphalt driveway, mature landscaping, a great neighbor called "Monk", and .....................a POWER WHEELS JEEP WRANGLER, at no extra cost!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The house quickly became our home, and the jeep, even more quickly, became a dust collector in the basement. Don't worry, the original plastic was protected by the 637 address labels affixed to the Jeep. Don't even think about trying to steal our Power Wheels; you can see from space that it belongs to Jean Ingram at our address. But, if you are dumb enough to attempt a theft, as soon as one of the other 5,000 residents of our town catches a glimpse of just one of those address labels, you will get to hear an hour long history of "the house that used to have a flat roof" and you will be BEGGING us to take the Jeep back so people will leave you alone and stop asking, "Now, were you the ones who put the gabled roof on the house? That was in 2008, right?" Please note that I am NOT kidding or exaggerating at all. Our house is infamous! Instead of giving our address to anyone familiar with our town, we simply say, "It's the house that used to have the flat roof." and EVERYONE knows EXACTLY where we live. Ah, small town life.

Last weekend we decided it was time to get the Jeep out of storage and see if it was up to "The Anderson Sons Challenge." So, Saturday evening after Cole had gracefully recovered from running his 1:50:35 half-marathon and I had puked my guts out and then "slept it off" for 2 1/2 hours in an attempt to recover from my 1:17 10K, we headed to Toys 'R Us in order to buy a replacement battery and charger for the purple, yes purple, Jeep Wrangler that was soon to become the boys' primary transportation.

All I could think was how lucky we were to have a Power Wheels for FREE! These are expensive toys for most people, but ours didn't cost a penny! All we had to buy was the battery and charger. I glanced at the prices of the various vehicles. Some were as low as $150, but some were as high as $350! Holy cow! I thought it would be great for the boys to have a Power Wheels, but I quickly realized I was WAY too cheap to actually buy one brand new and my gratitude to the previous home owners swelled in my wallet. Cole grabbed the battery and charger while I checked that one battery was all we needed. Cole said, "Man, this crap is expensive.", but I didn't think much of it. I know we are both pretty frugral; we think everything is expensive. We made our way to the register while I smugly thought how my kids had a Power Wheels and all it cost me was a battery and charger. In my head I was basically Dave Ramsey's Mom-of-the-Year. I was already mentally writing the answers to the interview questions I would answer on the air the day I was named Mom-of-the-Year. "Well, Dave, it seems many parents think they have to spend, spend, spend to instantly give their children what they want. My husband and I have always taken a much different approach......"

"Ninety-seven, Eight-five." What? Who is she talking to? Wait a minute, she's talking to us? What the hell did she just say? $97.85!!!!!! The battery and charger were how much?!?!?! What is Cole doing? He's just paying her? He didn't even ask for a price check! She isn't even questioning the register! What is wrong with this woman? She clearly doesn't care that we are being overcharged! I should complain about her. Am I sweating? Oh, my gosh, I am! I can't remember my own name! I have to sit down; no I had better lie down and elevate my feet. Does anybody have a paper bag I can breathe in?!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we paid 67% of the 2011 model price just to replace the battery and charger of an eight or nine-year-old Power Wheels. I felt like I had just lost my mind when we walked to the car with our purchases. But, we had still saved 33% on a toy that is just as nice, even though it is in fact covered in address labels.

We both carefully read the battery charging instructions. There is NO way we were screwing up this thing that cost a small fortune. I also saved the receipt just in case the darn thing didn't work due to issues with the Jeep itself. I was definitely going to get my $97.85 back! The battery charged for the full 18 hours, and I couldn't wait for the boys to get to drive their Jeep.

Tuesday I decided the time had come for the boys to discover the need for speed. Both of the boys had runny noses and coughs, but their bad moods had filled the house to the point the walls were bowing. We HAD to get out so they could cleanse their auras before I went insane. I put the child gate across the basement stairs and went to recover the treasure that was to become Ian's and Eli's. I realized Cole had stashed the Jeep in a very small closet in the basement with an even smaller doorway. I twisted, turned, pivoted, rotated, shimmied, shifted, lifted, and ultimately shoved the Jeep through the doorway in a mere 18 minutes. I would have given up sooner, but the boys had never left the top of the stairs and had been encouraging me the entire time. By "encouraging" I obviously mean fighting like cats and dogs which just confirmed that we HAD to get outside and get some air before someone ended up being committed.

Once the Jeep was freed of the closet's snare, it was time to drag it up the stairs. The Jeep is approximately 30 inches wide and the width of the staircase was a generous 30.0001 inches. In other words, plenty of room to maneuver freely. It took about another 10 minutes to get up the stairs, all the while Ian and Eli were "encouraging" my decision to go outside. I have no idea how this Jeep made it into our basement in the first place unless Fisher Price had a manufacturing facility down there that was promptly torn down after ONE vehicle rolled off the assembly line.

When I finally pulled the Jeep out of the stairwell into the laundry room I felt like I had just climbed Mt. Everest. I even considered planting an American flag in the top stair. Instead, I was overwhelmed by the enthusiasm of two little boys getting their first car, and I had to soak in the moment. Ian LOVED it! It was a Jeep Wrangler just like future Uncle Jeremy's! And, let's be honest here, future Uncle Jeremy is a policeman so he is obviously the coolest, most admirable man on the planet. Who was I to argue with that? I took a small break to let my lumbago recover from the 30 minute Jeep vs. Mom Submission Wrestling Match and let the boys climb inside. Instantly, a fight broke out over who was most worthy of driving the Jeep first, so I quickly decided break time was over. Besides, I only had to make it through two more doorways before we would finally be outside.

The doorway out of the laundry room and into the side entryway of the house was a tight squeeze, and it definitely didn't help to have children hanging from the wheels as I tried to carry it sideways through the jamb. Only one door to go! Getting through the exterior door and into the yard was a nightmare. First of all, it's a big step down onto the concrete landing, and the storm door will not prop open on its own. And, not only was I trying my best to not throw myself to the ground and end up pinned under a Power Wheels, I was also trying to prevent Ian, Eli, and the dog from darting out into the yard before me.

By the time I got the damn Jeep (yes, by this time, in my head, it was no longer "the Jeep" it was "the damn Jeep") into the yard I was ready to put it by the road with a big FREE sign on it. I was going to take the battery out first, of course, and get my $97.85 back. But, I couldn't do that to the boys. They were both way too excited for me to ruin the fun. So, I grabbed their little hands and led them into the yard. I was excited to see them delight in the freedom of the open, well yard, not road. Ian was SO pumped! He jumped right in, and I scooped up Eli, unsure of Ian's steering abilities. He stomped on the accelerator and.................nothing.

What the heck?!?! I walked over to make sure that he was fully pushing the pedal, making sure to stand to the side so I didn't get run over once he actually pushed the accelerator. While I carefully assisted, I had Ian push the accelerator. Still nothing. I pushed the forward/backward buttons in the floorboard. Still nothing. I had Ian crawl out of the Jeep and into the yard to wait while I ran my eyes over every square inch of that thing looking for ANYTHING out of the ordinary that would indicate a problem. After a VERY thorough examination that left me no closer to a solution than I was before Ian got out, I was ready to fly into a Clark Griswold rage! You know, at the end of "Christmas Vacation" when Clark finds out he has been enrolled in the Jelly of the Month Club instead of receiving a bonus to pay for the in-ground pool. It took every ounce of energy I had to not unleash a very animated and colorful verbal assault on the, once again, "damn Jeep."

I sent Cole a text, complete with a sad face, that the Jeep didn't work. While waiting for a sympathetic response, I pulled every outside toy out of the garage and into the driveway. Ian was still pretty bummed about not getting to drive, but Eli couldn't have cared less about the dead Power Wheels. Within a few minutes my phone was ringing, and it was Cole. I didn't even say, "Hello."; I just answered the phone with, "The Jeep doesn't work." Cole told me it did. He knew it did. As it turned out, I had accidentally swapped the new battery with the old battery. I was EXTREMELY glad it was a simple fix.

So, I quickly switched batteries and the Jeep came to life! Ian leaped into the driver seat and off he went. I figured that he might not be the greatest at steering since he was still a novice, but I was really surprised by how the maiden voyage went. I stood, with Eli on my hip, watching my little Ian boy drive off into the great blue yonder. He headed west through the side yard toward the driveway. Last summer we dug some stepping stones out of the yard, but we didn't have enough top-soil to fill all of the holes so there are still some significant dips in the yard. Ian hit the craters at full speed. The Jeep's shocks were put to the test as well as Ian's bony little heiny on the hard plastic seat. He held the wheel nice and steady and never lost control of the machine. As soon as he had reached smooth terrain again, he was already flying down a small hill and into the driveway. He started screaming like a maniac, and not because he was having fun but because he was terrified. I started sprinting through the yard as fast as my flip-flop clad feet would allow while yelling, "Take your foot off of the pedal! Take your foot off of the pedal!!!!"

Then Ian had his first automotive collision. First he hit his metal, police cruiser pedal car. The police car got caught on the front wheel of the Jeep and was now along for the ride, too. Next, he got hung up on two bubble lawn mowers. One was stuck to the Jeep, while the other had attached itself to the police car. I was fairly confident that the power of the sound waves leaving his mouth would knock the unwanted passengers free of the Jeep. They didn't. They weren't even powerful enough to get the lawn chair out of the way before he was dragging it in circles through the driveway as well, screaming the entire time. He just went round and round and round while I stood watching, laughing way too hard to be of any help.

The whole mess of events happened so incredibly fast I couldn't believe it. One second I was watching Ian's blonde head, glistening in the sun, bob across the yard in his Power Wheels, and the next I was laughing so hard I was afraid I was going to drop Eli. I ultimately sat Eli on the ground and ran in circles around Ian, who was stongly resembling Pig Pen but with a cloud of toys instead of dirt. Eventually, I was able to rush the Jeep and knock his foot off of the accelerator and the Power Wheels was powerful no more. I must say I'm very impressed with the power of that little 6-volt battery. It was able to power a Jeep hauling a 32 lb little boy, a 40 lb. metal police car, 2 bubble mowers, and a lawn chair.

It took quite a while before I was composed enough to pull all of the toys free of the Jeep's grasp. The accident didn't phase Ian at all. As soon as I gave him the green flag, he was back to driving. And his driving didn't get any better. He ran into the house more than once and generally had NO ability to steer in any direction other than the wrong direction. But, he had a blast and so did I just watching him.

The summer is still young, and hopefully, by the time the summer is over he will be an old pro. It's hard to believe that in 13 years we will be teaching him to drive an actual car. My hope for the future includes avoiding police cruisers, lawn mowers, and lawn chairs. I just don't see that I will find these things nearly as funny once he's behind the wheel for real.

Bunny Tales

We survived the first major holiday weekend of 2011! We forgot our camera at home, so we have no photographic evidence of the Easter festivities, but we have our memories. This was a VERY easy holiday for us this year. Usually it feels like we spend more time in the car driving to and from our many celebrations than we do at any one place. On Easter Sunday we only had TWO places to go. It was eggcellent!

The night before Easter we put the boys to bed at 7:30. They were exhausted from three days of too little sleep and a lot of excitement. This might seem pretty early, but that's their usual bedtime. Our boys wake up around 6:30 every morning no matter how late they went to bed the night before. Since we knew Easter Sunday would mean an extended Mass and a high powered day of visiting, we wanted the boys to be well rested. When I heard the boys stirring on Sunday morning I was SO excited to get them out of bed to see if the bunny had found us. I walked over to the dresser to look at my watch. I wanted to see if the boys had made it to 6:30 or if it was still closer to 6:00. Luckily, I was able to find a lovely picture that accurately represents the shock I felt when realized the time....

Holy cow! It's 7:40!!!!!!!

We had to be at church at 9:00, and we aren't exactly the speediest family even when there is no egg hunt or fabulous treats to be found and tried out. I barged into Ian's and Eli's room like the house was burning down and instantly started rambling like an idiot. I blame my incoherence on the noxious, dirty diaper atmosphere the boys had created during the night. I have no idea what I said, but I know the word "surprise" came out of my mouth. Ian looked up and said, "The surprise is......IT'S IAN'S BIRTHDAY!" Now that would have been a surprise because that isn't for another 3 months, but that would have explained the stench with which the boys had filled the room. Luckily, I really had only been sleeping a few hours, not months on end. We quickly defunked the boys, and gave them the skinny on the Bunny. Our niece, Sidney, soon appeared at the bottom of the stairs, and it was time to confirm the Bunny's late night visit.

The Bunny had found us at Grandma and Grandpa's and hid eggs throughout the house and baskets full (only because the baskets were small) of goodies. There were 37 eggs in total, so plenty to find for three kids under three. The first couple of finds for each kid was a learning experience, but it didn't take long for Ian to really hit his stride. Initially, he was just running around like a chicken with its head cut off and LOVING every minute of it. He quickly learned the game and was even more jazzed. Sidney isn't quite the morning person either of our boys are, so she was hunting eggs but at a much more relaxed pace. I'm pretty sure she was hoping to open and egg and have a bed fall out of it so she could go back to sleep. Eli was very concerned with discovering what was hidden inside the eggs. After he picked up an egg he instantly dropped to his heiny and cracked it open. A few eggs contained M&Ms, but most of them had number magnets inside. By the end of the hunt the egg count looked a little like this...

Eli - 2

Sidney - 6

Ian - 29

Then it was time to discover the baskets. The Easter Bunny kind of takes a "less is more" approach when he visits our house, which I love! I don't want the boys to ever think they need a ton of stuff. I want them to appreciate what they get and be thankful for those things. This year the bunny brought each of the boys a book, triangular crayons, and a spinning egg light. Ian also got the game Elefun, and Eli got a LeapTop.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Elefun, allow me to explain. A hard plastic elephant with a four foot collapsible trunk houses a small fan. The plastic elephant sits on the floor and holds 30 nylon butterflies within on the fan's surface. When the fan is turned on, the trunk expands outward and extends to the ceiling creating a wind tunnel. The nylon butterflies are then blown out of the end of the trunk and float gently towards the floor while children merrily catch the butterflies in their butterfly nets. This provides hours of entertainment assuming your are willing to collect the butterflies and deposit them back into the plastic elephant 9,000 times as it takes approximately 10 seconds to play one round of Elefun start to finish.

In all honesty, the constant refilling of the butterflies is totally worth it. Ian thinks the game is absolutely hysterical and laughs uncontrollably while running through the falling butterflies. He doesn't play with a net, I'm assuming because if he were to catch the butterflies he couldn't run through them, so what would be the point? Ian's joy of Elefun is contagious, and Eli cracks up watching Ian having such a good time. The Bunny did well.

After a couple of rounds of Elefun we rushed around to get ready for church and sped to town. Like a complete rookie parent, I stupidly told Ian we were going to sit with Nina and Papa at church. I never should have said such a thing because we were getting to church late enough that I knew seating would be limited. When we walked inside I scanned the crowd but couldn't find the Zimmerman family anywhere. I knew they were in there somewhere since I had just seen all of their cars outside, but decided to just look for them after church was over. There were TWO empty pews left in the whole place, and Ian was already demanding his Nina. I tried to quietly bustle our family to our seats and calm Ian at the same time. All I managed to do was find a seat DIRECTLY across the aisle from, you guessed it, NINA! Are you kidding me? Now he was never going to quit demanding Nina. I did a quick head count of their pew only to realize they had approximately 34 people crammed into it. Okay, maybe not 34, but they were definitely at maximum capacity, and Ian needed to stay with us. I'm not going to swear to this, but there is a distinct possibility that the rest of my family held their breaths for an hour and a half straight on Easter morning because there is no way they could have all fit in that pew if they had air in their lungs as well.

The only upside to our seating position was that we had settled right behind a family with twin boys who are in second grade. Both of our boys were swirling masses of plaid and limbs with the occasional "Nina" or "AAAhhhhh" emanating from the blurs. The mother of the boys turned around and said, "I know exactly what you're going through. We have twin boys too." and gave me a look that said "Solidarity, sister." I explained ours were just Irish twins, but I'm sure she still found me worthy of twin pity.

The next hour and twenty minutes crept by, and it wasn't pretty. We executed several kid swaps between Cole and myself whenever one of us was ready to drop a kid in the collection basket, shake his hand and wish him, "Good luck in all your future endeavors. I'm sure your next family will appreciate your energy. By the way, your college fund is in a non-transferable account so your new parents are going to have to foot the bill." I also found myself issuing the ultimate threat to Ian several times. That's right. In the house of our Lord, I threatened my son. Whenever Ian's demands for Nina became louder and more belligerent I would lean over and whisper to him, "Knock it off right now or I will clean out your nose!" He would instantly snap to attention and become nearly angelic. Of course this behavior wouldn't last long, and I would soon be in his ear again whispering about the horrors that would befall his shnozz if he didn't get it together.

I couldn't wait for communion when I could send Ian on his happy way across the aisle to Nina and enjoy a relaxing time during the final prayer of the Mass. I returned to the pew childless, and from across the aisle I could see Ian curled up on Nina's lap looking as pitiful as humanly possible. Eli realized Ian was missing. This did NOT make Eli happy. He started asking for Ian, and when I was unable to produce his brother, he was done with us and was ready to switch pews, too. Only instead of demanding Nina, Eli demanded Papa. Eli is Papa's boy! He is very attached to me, but if I'm not available, Papa is the person Eli wants. For the next ten minutes Eli stretched and flailed in every direction in a desperate attempt to break free from Cole's arms and find Papa.

As soon as church was over we let the boys run around a little bit while we small talked. Cole and I had several visits from parents who now have adult sons and offered compliments on our patience with the boys. Most of these parents also expressed their relief that those days have passed for them, but I'm sure there is also a part of them that misses the fun of having toddlers.

Ian invited himself to Nina's house, and Nina being Nina, of course jumped at the opportunity to have one-on-one time with Ian even though she had a busy morning ahead of her preparing for Easter dinner. Mom and Dad rarely get to visit with just the boys because every time we are home the whole family gets together to visit at their house. The Zimmermans aren't exactly quiet people and these visits are anything but calm and relaxing, and since Eli came along, they really haven't gotten much of a chance to visit with just Ian. I happily let Ian and his bad attitude climb into Nina's suburban and drive out of sight. I thought a little down time would be just the thing he needed before our busy afternoon, and I thought a little time with just Cole, Eli, and me would benefit the three of us as well.

I was right. When we picked up Ian a couple of hours later, he was sweet, calm, and very obedient. It was very refreshing, and I was very grateful that mom let him spend time at her house. Our first stop was Cole's Aunt Chris' house. Chris had everything set up in the garage, which sounds weird but the garage is immaculate, heated, and big enough for the kids to run around and play while remaining in sight of their parents. We enjoyed a great meal, and then we got the kids ready for an egg hunt. While the eggs were being hidden there was a significant amount of chaos from parents trying to shuffle around and hide eggs while the kids tried to immediately find them. For a while Ian was content to hang out with Cole's cousin Ashley. Eventually, he got bored and shimmied down from her hip to find something a little more exciting. The next thing I knew, Cole was in the bathroom washing Ian off in the sink. He had found a Butterfinger egg, and chewed it up, foil wrapper and all. Once he realized the foil was NOT food, he tried digging it back out of his mouth and wound up covered in chocolate.

After Ian was cleaned up, the egg hunt began. Each of the kids got to find 15 eggs. The kids ran around like their hair was on fire and 17 seconds later each basket had met its quota.....except for Eli's. Eli and I were on egg four. I ultimately dumped 11 more eggs into his basket while he tried to pry loose the candy within a single egg, and it was then a free for all to collect the remaining eggs. The kids then found their baskets full of all kinds of silly toys, punching balloons, and candy. The eight seekers then had their punching balloons inflated by their hyperventilating parents, and it was absolutely hysterical to see them running around punching their balloons and bouncing off one another. It was a great first stop.

Next we went to my Grandma and Grandpa Stanford's house. We were the last to arrive, as I knew we would be since we had an earlier stop, and the driveway was FULL! This was the first holiday in a long time that almost everyone was going to Grandma's. By the time we arrived, my future brother-in-law and one of my cousins had already left, but there were still 32 people there not including the four of us. There were another four family members who didn't make it at all.

Many of my cousins have started families of their own so their were several kids for Ian and Eli to play with. The afternoon slipped away quickly, as it always does, and soon my Grandma pulled me aside. Since it had been too wet to hunt Easter eggs outside she had set up several games in the basement for the older kids, but since Ian and Eli were still to young for the games she wanted to let them have a little egg hunt of their own in the basement. We sneaked down to the basement and hid the eggs filled with a little coin. Cole and I took Ian and Eli downstairs to find MORE EGGS! Ian was loving it. He picked up his first find and shook it. He had the most serious look on his face as he held the egg to his ear and listened. "I hear ten dollars!", he yelled and then squealed with excitement as he dumped his money on the couch to "count it". Eli was not into the egg hunt because it was after 4:00, and he hadn't napped a wink all day.

After the money was safely inside Cole's jeans' pocket we loaded up the boys, punching balloons and all, in the back of our super spacious (yeah right) Monte Carlo. I'm too cheap to get a "family" car so we will be driving this until the only way to get it to move is like the Flintstone's car. Cole and I were hopeful that the boys would sleep the entire two hour drive home. Wishful thinking. We made it an hour before they were both screaming their heads off. I tried giving them candy and toys from their Easter baskets and they were not interested. In a final act of desperation, I began reading a book to them. Some people outgrow motion sickness as they become an adult. I am NOT one of those people. With every word I uttered I got sicker and sicker. I was miserable, but at least the boys weren't screaming anymore. I had to take a few breaks from the story whenever my choices came down to: A) listen to the boys scream or B) puke all over myself and the dog, who always rides on my lap in the car. I repeatedly opted for "A" and let the boys break down into hysterics. By the time we pulled into the driveway I was as green as our plastic eggs and never wanted to read "The Case of the Cat's Meow" EVER again.

We got inside, fed the boys supper, buzzed Ian's hair (which is a story in itself), and put them to bed. Another action packed weekend and memory filled holiday. I can't imagine what the hunt will be like next year.

Weathering the Snorf

Cole left for Tucson for work on Monday morning. This means I have been flying solo this week. I definitely wasn't looking forward to this week, but the last time Cole was away for this long for work was when Ian was just a couple of months old so we're pretty lucky. Of course, one two month old is a much easier wrangling act than a 32 month old and a 16 month old. This week has been a true test of patience, and I am a VERY patient woman.

Monday, went by as easily as I could have possibly asked for. We had a nice relaxed morning, and the boys spent the afternoon as they do every Monday afternoon: at Keighan's house while I went to class. When I picked them up, "Mommy Ashley" (Ian's name for Ashley) said they had been well behaved so we buzzed over to Sonic for a Cherry Limeade. Eli fell asleep on the way home, and I decided to let Ian skip his daily nap. As the evening progressed, Ian began wearing down so we called it a night early. Overall, an uneventful day.

Yesterday was a little more difficult. The majority of the day was pretty easy, but in the early evening we started seeing all of the storm reports. We were right in the path of some NASTY storms. Around 7:00 the sirens let out their warning, and the Andersons took cover in the basement. We had ONE legit flashlight, one Thomas flashlight, and one Percy flashlight. I was really hoping we didn't lose power. For a few minutes the boys rode around in their wagon in the main room of the basement. Our entire basement is unfinished which makes the big room echo quite a lot. It was making Eli a little uncomfortable so I pulled the wagon into a smaller room that houses our treadmill. There was no way the boys could contain their little bodies once they saw the goods. They HAD to get on that treadmill! They hopped out of the wagon and began playing in the less echoey, much more well lit area of the basement. I turned on the 7 inch under-cabinet mount TV/DVD that is installed in front of the treadmill and watched our town become enveloped in a hot pink radar blob while the rain fell hard enough that I could no longer see the street light.

Ian and Eli were blissfully unaware that we might be well on our way to Munchkin Land, returning only after a visit with the Great and Powerful Oz, and I maintained that we were in the basement as a special treat. Gradually, Ian started to question what the heck was going on. I told him we were just havin' a storm, like it was no big deal, but I could tell he was skeptical. Eventually, the blob passed us and we were once again covered by a serene green blob. I told the boys it was time to go upstairs and start our bedtime routines when the power went out. Our basement was as black as a cave, and when I quickly turned on my flashlight, Ian and Eli resembled cave dwelling creatures. You know what I mean, eyes the size of dinner plates. I scooped up Eli and led Ian and Prissy (the dog) up the staircase to the rest of the house.

I actually really enjoyed putting Eli to bed last night. We have a routine. I always read several books to the boys then turn off the light and continue to rock quietly until they are completely relaxed. Then I have an entire dialogue I recite before kissing them a million times and laying them in their beds. We have done this since the day we brought Ian home from the hospital and I don't plan on changing until Ian turns to me while sitting on my lap in the rocking chair and says, "Mom, I'm sitting on my car keys. Can I please just go to bed?"

Well, last night I got to go through Eli's bedtime routine with Ian on my lap as well. I had to bring Ian with me since we didn't have electricity and I definitely wasn't going to leave him in the dark by himself. The boys sat side by side and never once kicked, hit, or pulled hair. They just sat sweetly and listened to story after story read by the light of a flashlight. I was in HEAVEN! Both of my snuggly little boys, cool as cucumbers, enjoying time with mom. If there had been a way to bottle the warm and fuzzy feeling I had sitting in that chair and sell it, Bill Gates would look like a pauper compared to me.

After Eli was down for the night, Ian and I headed into the living to call mom and dad to check on them. We turned the phone on speaker phone, and Ian got to tell his Nina all about the "snorf". "The snorf made it rain," according to Ian. Mom and I got a big kick out of his new word, and I was glad to hear they hadn't experienced the same line of snorfs. Or maybe it's "snorves." I don't know. I do know that they reported on the radio this morning that we had sustained winds of 56 mph, and our neighbors' Dogwood tree was pulled out by the roots and is now laying in their yard. Luckily, our trees just lost a bunch of sticks, not even limbs.

This brings us to today. Today started out well. When we woke up we had electricity. YAY! We scurried around this morning, and I told Ian he was going to meet a new friend today which absolutely thrilled him. Today, our possible summer nanny came to meet the boys. I have applied for a research opportunity in the U of I Department of Chemistry for the summer, and I do not want to send the boys to daycare. I think that having someone else as their primary caregiver will disrupt their lives enough, so I want to have someone who will come to our home and "be me" all summer. In my search for a nanny I found Amy. She is wonderful! She is a straight A student who has earned every award that U of I has to offer and is starting Vet school in the fall. She has values very similar to ours, and I knew she would be a perfect match for the boys the first time I met her. She is very active, loves to be outside, and has worked in farrowing houses for the past couple of summers so I know she can handle dirty diapers. If you saw Amy, a very petite blonde girl, you would never in a million years think she has worked on hog farms.

The boys instantly took to Amy. She had only been here a few minutes when Eli brought her a book and crawled up onto her lap. I knew right then that she was a perfect match. Eli is picky when it comes to who he will warm up to, where as Ian would run away with a stranger. The morning went wonderfully! Amy stuck around for a few hours and even ate lunch with us. She is very excited about possibly watching the boys for the summer, and so am I.

After Amy left the day went to crap. Although I was distracted at the time because Ian had just thrown a Mega Bloc directly at Eli's face, I think I caught a glimpse of a red tail coming out of his diaper. I was counting the seconds until nap time. Eli was MORE than happy to go read books and rock for his nap. I know he was tired, but I think most of the excitement was due to the fact that Ian would finally leave him alone and quit bullying him. Eli quickly fell asleep on my lap, and I really did not want to have to face Ian's terrible attitude again. But, I laid a slumbering Eli in his crib, and went to face Ian armed with a crucifix and holy water. Okay, maybe I wasn't armed, but I was definitely determined for him to take a nap.

He was completely exhausted, so naturally, he didn't sleep a wink. In less than an hour he was back in the living room, raising my blood pressure by the second. For the remainder of the afternoon Ian screamed, threw toys, yelled, kicked, hollered, slapped, and wailed like a banshee nonstop. Between Ian's atrocious behavior and Eli's constant screechings of pain and/or anger I was on the verge of screaming "SHUT UP!" and running down the street by the time I needed to fix dinner.

I made the boys a very quick supper of hot dogs and cheese because I couldn't muster the desire to make anything else. I was on the verge of insanity! I sat the boys at their places around the table and went back to the kitchen to prep some leftovers for myself. Then I heard the sweetest thing. "In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen. Bless us o Loooord, and these thy gifts......." and so it continued until Ian had given thanks for his pathetic meal prepared by his horribly frazzled mother. The sound of Ian praying, COMPLETELY unprompted by me, made my stress of the day absolutely disappear. It made me so happy to know that every night that we eventually give up and pray without him, he is still listening and learning from us. I praised him, possibly excessively, for showing his gratitude before he began to eat. I was in shock, but if there was ever a night for him to do such a thing, I was glad it was tonight. I think that I needed to hear that prayer more than God did.

I thought that we had turned a corner and were on the path to a smooth evening, but I was WRONG!!!! Apparently the meal only gave the boys more energy to be even bigger hellions. By 6:00 I was so desperate for some peace and quiet that I did something I very rarely do. I turned on "Race", Ian's Little People movie, and hoped for the best. Ian loves this movie and always watches it at Grandma and Grandpa Anderson's in lieu of napping. I'm not proud of letting the TV solve the problem, but after three days of parenting solo I just couldn't fight the fight any longer. I could tell that the majority of Ian's attitude problem was due to fatigue so at 6:45 pm I said enough was enough and put him to bed. I haven't heard a peep since.

Ross and Ian watching "Race" at Joe and Karen's

I'm not a drinker. The only time I ever drink is at wedding receptions, and I can count the number of times in my life that I have purchased alcohol to keep in my own refrigerator on literally one FINGER! But, I swear, today would have been time number two if Cole had been here after work. Instead, I put the boys to bed, typed my frustrations in silence, and got 70% of my daily recommended fiber intake by enjoying two Kellogg's Fiber Plus Antioxidants Chewy Bars.

Thank goodness Cole will be home tomorrow. I only have three Fiber Plus bars left in the cabinet.

People Let Me Tell Ya 'Bout My Best Friend

Saturday night after the boys were in bed, Cole had some exciting news for me. Sunday we were going to have a visit with Ian's very good friend, Bryan. Ian and Bryan always have a good time together, but unfortunately Bryan lives in Bloomington and they just don't get to see each other enough. But, you know how it is with a true friend, no matter how long it's been since you last saw each other, you just pick up right where you left off. Ian has already mastered this quality of ever lasting friendship at the old age of two.

While we were waiting for Bryan to arrive, I suggested we go to the library and pick out some new books to put into rotation. Ian and Eli both LOVE, L-O-V-E, LOVE to read. They are the biggest book worms, and when things are getting a little out of control around here the situation can usually be neutralized with a little story time. I adore reading to them, and I am so glad they enjoy it, too. The only problem is, I have every book in the house memorized and we have TONS of books. It becomes difficult to get excited about reading "The Ear Book" again when you already know the big plot twist is you can HEAR hands clap. The first time I read the book, I did NOT see this coming. I thought maybe you could see hands clap or feel hands clap but definitely not hear hands clap. The surprise ending turned the entire reading experience into a total thrill. By the 657th time I read the book, I was beginning to see a pattern and I knew that you could hear hands clap and the exhilaration of the discovery was gone. By the way, Ian can also recite this book start to finish.

We walked to the library since it was such nice weather, and it gave me a chance to enjoy the company of just Ian. Eli stayed behind to take a much needed nap. There are days when I find myself aching for one-on-one time with either of the boys, and Sunday was just what I needed. I proudly strolled my gorgeous little boy down the street in my SINGLE stroller. It was amazing to walk down the sidewalk and have all of the stroller wheels on concrete instead of needing to push Eli's side through someone's yard because he is lighter and will leave less noticeable ruts. It was so nice to be able to talk to Ian about something other than why he shouldn't be pulling Eli's hair or why he needs to keep his feet to himself. Someone please tell me why I thought having ONE child was ever difficult.

When we got to the library we wheeled straight to the kids section. Our library is small, but so are children's books, so even a small children's section can hold roughly 4,876,953 books. Of these 4 million + books approximately 80% were unceremoniously ripped from the shelves and cast aside by Ian, leaving me to follow in his wake, cleaning up the wreckage of Hurricane Ian.

About 10 minutes into our visit we heard the steam train coming down the tracks. Our town has an antique passenger train that runs on the weekends and the station is right by the library. Ian is so in tune with trains that he actually heard the engineer pull the line for the whistle and knew the train was on its way seconds before I was able to hear the actual whistle. Of course, we couldn't miss this! Ian took off to find a window and ran so fast he melted a path in the acrylic carpeting. It was like watching the roadrunner navigate through The Labyrinth only David Bowie never appeared. I followed his trail of smoke and found him helping himself to a spot on the radiator where he could admire the gleaming steam engine from the confines of the library. For the next FIFTEEN minutes we watched as passengers enjoyed photo-ops in front of the train and then reboarded. I suggested we return to the stacks and listen for the departing whistle since the train was going to wait FIFTEEN minutes before its next departure. Trust me, this did not go over well. Ultimately, we stood in the window until we could no longer see the clouds of steam leaving the locomotive's funnel. Only then was Ian emotionally prepared to find some new books to read.

Back in the stacks, Ian snuggled on my lap while I read books about every subject you can imagine. It came time to make our final selections and check out. Bryan was about to arrive at our house. Ian was having trouble focusing on making his decisions so I decided that perhaps it was too overwhelming and I should assist him. I decided to check out five books of varying genres. You don't want to read too many murder mysteries novels, or you will get paranoid. By that logic, you probably shouldn't read too many Max and Ruby books or you will begin to think you are in fact a rabbit. I didn't want Ian to simply being reading; I wanted him to be enriching his mind and made my selections accordingly. Here are the books, and their corresponding genres (in case you have trouble finding them in your own library), on our current reading list in case you would like to pick them up yourself.

Commerce

Criminal Justice

Animal Science

Engineering

Travel and Leisure

We proudly gathered our reading material and made our way back home. Again, enjoying the company of just one another.

When we got home Cole told us that Bryan was just a few miles away. I couldn't wait for Ian to see his good buddy once again. He hadn't gotten to spend time with Bryan since around the Holidays if memory serves. We waited outside for him because of course boys are going to want to play outside, and let's face it, who wants a mess in your house when it can be in your driveway. We were only outside a few minutes when Bryan pulled up to the house. YAY!!!!!!! Ian was squealing with excitement and jumping up and down. He ran over to greet his good buddy as soon as he was out of the car.

It didn't take any time at all for the two of them to reconnect and start having fun. There was a lot of action in the driveway. Firetrucks and police cars, bubbles and sidewalk chalk. It was AWESOME! Then it got even better. Bryan had brought Ian a gift. He had brought a sunflower plant. The seed was planted in the soil, but it hadn't begun to grow. Dirt? What an awesome gift. The plant needed to be watered, too. Playing in water? This gift just got even better! Since I have a black thumb, mainly by choice, I let Bryan show Ian how to water the sunflower seed while I stood by with a towel ready to dry off wet hands on the chilly afternoon.

He sprinkled the water on the soil exactly like he was supposed to. He held very still for awile and I thought he was admiring his handiwork. Then he looked up at Bryan and asked, "When is flower come up?" We told him it was going to take a few days, but Ian decided to take matters into his own hands. A few minutes later he picked a violet out of the yard, shoved it into the soil, and announced, "Look. My flower came up!" He was so proud. I can't imagine what he's going to think when we sees the sunflower in the pot.

Here are Ian and Bryan watering the flower.......

Ian and his good buddy, Bryan

What? Were you expecting another two year old? Hardly. Bryan is actually a very good friend of Cole's, but every time he comes to our house Ian high-jacks his attention and it more or less becomes a play date. Bryan recently submitted his thesis and was ready to spend a weekend doing things he hasn't had time to do for the last several months so he came to see us. Eli woke up about 45 minutes after Bryan arrived and was itching to get in on the outside fun. As you can see, we had a great day.

After a little bit we had to go inside because it was beginning to sprinkle. Ian did not like this at all, but he found a way to enjoy the great indoors as well. He requested that Bryan read our new library book, "Farting Dog", to him while I made supper. Aunt Whitney introduced us to Walter the Farting Dog. The Walter books are actually a series, and Ian thinks Walter is great. When I saw that Walter had recently been on a cruise, I HAD to know what capers Walter experienced at sea. And what cruise line did Walter recommend, Carnival, Norwegian, Royal Caribbean?

Dinner was quickly prepared and the boys seated at the table. Cole and Bryan told the boys good-bye and headed out to the Mexican restaurant. Ian was devastated. He bawled his little eyes out for "Byron." It was sad; I knew how bummed he was. He was gloomy for the rest of the evening. When Cole returned without Bryan he was even sadder. Part of the emotions were due to skipping his nap, but most of it was just pure disappointment over a play date that ended too soon.

On a happier note, Monday will bring our weekly play date with the boys' friend and my god-daughter, Keighan, and Ian LOVES to go to Keighan's. They fight like cats and dogs, which I'm confident is due to the fact they are only a couple of months apart in age, (oddly, Ian was born four days after Keighan's mom's birthday and Keighan was born four days after mine.), but he always has a great time.

And that's how we handle our lives, one play date at a time.

Fibs, Smashed Toes, Busted Heads, and 17 Minutes of Running

Ah, Saturday. The day you finally get to sleep late, relax around the house, and recover from the long week that has just passed. Ha! You must not have kids if that's how your Saturday goes. It's been 2 years, 8 months, and 11 days since I had a Saturday like that, but who's counting? Personally, I wouldn't mind if we went 90 mph all day on Saturdays as long as we could sleep past 7:00 a.m. Heck, I would take sleeping past 6:45 a.m, but Ian and Eli would NEVER stand for that. That would mean wasting valuable time that could be spent dragging out toys and tormenting each other. Tisk, tisk for even thinking such an absurd thought.

This morning started like every Saturday at the Anderson house: bright and early. EVERY morning Ian is the first to wake up and he promptly begins sending his cryptic bird-like calls under the door and down the hall to Eli's room. Eli quickly snaps to attention and begins responding with vigor. While I'm not a linguist, I have studied the battle cries of the Anderson children long enough that I'm quite confident in my ability to translate their primitive conversations. This morning's conversation went like this....

Ian: AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! AAAAhhh. OOooooohhhhh. (Hey, Eli, get up.)

Eli: EEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!! AAAh. (I'm up, Captain. What are we going to do today?)

Ian: OOOOOOOOoooooooooooohhhh EEEEeeee. AAAAHHHHHHH. AH. AH (I'm not sure. Mom is leaving us with dad this afternoon so we should see what we can get away with.)

Eli: OOOhhhhh. AAAaaa. (I think we should drag ALL of the toys into the living room and then refuse to play with any of them. Later, we should sneak a chocolate chip cookie.)

Ian: AAAAAhhhhhhhhhh. EEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! (Awesome. Let's also dump everything out of the fridge.)

Once the plan for the day was in place, Ian gently let me know he was ready to get up by sweetly saying, "Mommy, get up." until I got out of bed and opened his bedroom door. Generally I am able to crawl back in bed before he is off the floor and out of his bedroom. Watching him walk around the corner into our bedroom is probably my favorite part of the day. He is ALWAYS happy first thing in the morning. He will come over to my side of the bed and give me a kiss and say the cutest things while we talk about if he had a good night's sleep and what he would like to have for breakfast. I truly adore our morning routine.

This morning my handsome little boy turned the corner with sparkling blue eyes, golden blonde hair, and a gleaming smile. He came over to give me my kiss, and when I reached out to give him his morning hug he was soaking wet. I instantly recoiled. I love Ian, but I hate how the kid can saturate a diaper. I said, "Oh, Ian. You're all wet." Cole then said to me, "How can someone pee so much?" I have been wondering the same thing since we brought Ian home. I guess Ian thought the question was directed at him because he promptly responded in the most serious tone, "No, no, no. It's raindrops from outside." I have no idea why he felt he needed to come up with an excuse for the wet jammies, and I don't know why he decided to blame it on the rain. Maybe he had been listening to Milli Vanilli. I mean, if those guys don't know what they're talking about, who does?

The morning went by in the blink of an eye, as always, and soon it was time for me to get ready to leave for the afternoon as Ian and Eli had already discussed. As I was finishing preparing to leave the house, Ian was hanging out in the bedroom with me, and he had The Retro Rocket. The Retro Rocket was Eli's birthday gift from my parents. It is made by Radio Flyer, and it is beyond adorable. It is also Eli's main form of transportation throughout the house. He rides it EVERYWHERE thanks to the fact that we have hardwood floors throughout our entire house. When Ian finally gets a turn on The Retro Rocket (don't feel bad for him, he has a Cat dump truck to ride) he usually likes to ride in private so Eli won't try to take it back. That is exactly why he was hanging out with me this morning.

Just as I was going to put my shoes on, he dropped the rocket on his foot and went nuts. I knew it was serious because he instantly had tears. Also, he started slobbering a bit, and it was a VERY odd color. First things first, the foot that I know is legitimately hurting. I went to rescue him and as he hobbled toward me for that magic only a mom can do, I felt so sorry for the little guy. All he wanted to do was enjoy the toy he had pilfered from his brother, and look what happened. I scooped him up and he asked me to "fix it". I promptly kissed his foot, and immediately he said, "NO! This one hurts!" I looked down again and saw that he had smashed his big toe and it was bleeding from under the end of the nail.

I have been puked on, peed on, and pooped on, and while all of those things are really disgusting, they don't invoke a physical reaction. Blood is another story. Specifically, my boys' blood but nobody else's. I don't know why it bothers me so much, but when I see either of my boys bleed my stomach instantly drops to my feet. I feel totally weak, light headed, my heart races, my body temperature reaches 135, and the individual blood drops multiply in my mind to pints. But, I remain calm for the sake of my children. Or maybe I temporarily black out and when I come to I just think I remained calm. It could be either scenario really.

I hollered for Cole to bring a wet wash cloth and sat comforting my little Ian boy until we could see how bad it really was. Initially, I was pretty sure the toe was going to fall off, but as it turned out it never even bled enough to drip onto the floor. Thank goodness I stayed calm. We applied "Boo-Boo Bear" to the almost-severed toe, and Ian quickly calmed down. He was so brave, so strong, so......slobbery. What the heck was all over my shirt? This is when I revisited the oddly colored drool. As it turns out, Ian had swiped the remainder of Eli's chocolate chip cookie from the kitchen table and was trying to devour it undetected when The Retro Rocket maimed his little foot. Cole thought it was karma. Steal a cookie, smash your toe. He might be onto something.

I was gone for most of the afternoon, and I when I got back home Eli was ridiculously excited to see me. Yay! I jumped right back into the swing of motherhood, and the evening went by fairly smoothly. After supper our hardwood floors, which are Eli's favorite home feature when riding The Retro Rocket, became Eli's worst enemy. He was walking from one room to the other and slipped on the hem of his pant leg. He fell back and hit his head on the corner of our plaster walls. He let out the most horrible screech of pain I have ever heard. I picked him up as fast as I possibly could, and he was actually writhing in pain from head to toe. It was heart breaking. He didn't want the normal "super cuddle" that usually cures any owwie a child can incur, and try as I might, I couldn't figure out how to make it better.

I sat down and started running my hands through his hair to see where he had hit his head. He instantly let out another terrible scream, and I knew exactly where he had hit the wall. He had a gigantic goose egg, scratch that DINOSAUR egg on his head. But worse than that, there was blood. Two bleeders in one day! How is that possible? I had my standard adverse reaction to the sight of Anderson Baby blood, but who cared how I felt; look at Eli! I can't imagine how badly his head had to hurt. You could see the pain on his tiny little face. I think I could have submitted a picture to Excedrin's advertising department, and they could have made a killer ad campaign. They could run a commercial that said, "When you have a migraine, do you feel like this?" then they would flash a picture of Eli's pitiful face. Consumers would think, "I have never felt that bad. But, if Excedrin can get rid of that pain, it can definitely get rid of this migraine I've had for the past three days that has left me secluded in a pitch black room, vomiting in a bucket every two to three hours while wearing ear plugs because the sound of my own breathing is enough to split my head wide open." Then they would rush right out and buy Excedrin. Eli recovered amazingly fast considering the trauma, but we easily decided NO hair washing tonight, and probably not tomorrow night either. I mean, this was BAD.

As the night wound down, Ian wound up. We have a big living room that is about 20 feet wide. It's big enough that we have two seating areas. One of Ian's favorite games is "Run to That Chair". This game sounds simple, but is actually very complex. A parent must sit on the couch and yell with incredible enthusiasm "Run to that chair, now run to that chair" over and over again while the child runs from one end of the room to the other throwing himself into available chairs to ensure he doesn't run completely through the wall leaving a child-shaped hole. Tonight I happened to make a mental note of when this game began. 7:09 p.m.

Ian has incredible energy, as do all two year old boys, but his is always at its finest at bedtime. The game went on, and on, and on, and on....... Eventually, I got tired of being the referee and quit giving the appropriate directions to keep the game flowing smoothly. Ian promptly reminded me of my duties and once again I was shouting out the rules of the game. You can imagine what chaos ensues when someone is not carefully directing the participants. It just gets down right dangerous.

The game continued until I announced it was time to start the bedtime routine. This was at 7:26 p.m. Yes, 7:26 p.m. That is 17 minutes of non-stop running. Cole and I kept discussing how long the game was going on. We were in shock! I even suggested that Ian and me team up and do a tag-team 10k on April 30th while Cole runs the half-marathon. If I thought he would remain on the course, I would totally let him take my place. (As it turns out, I hate running, and I will be SO glad when this race is over.)

All of this added up to a great day in the end. It had all the elements that could potentially ruin a day: head trauma, wounded toe, adverse reactions to blood, a lie (even though it was a funny one), and too much running from three members of the family (almost 2 hours combined), but we are all still alive and well. Basically, it was just a typical Saturday.

Ian Says the Darnedest Things

From the very beginning, I have been SO excited every time Ian has hit a major milestone, and the great thing is I have been just as excited every time Eli hit those same milestones. It seems as though most of the physical milestones are a thing of the past.

Rolling over? Check!

Sitting up? Check!

Walking? Check!

Climbing every piece of furniture in the house? Check!

So, now Cole and I are enjoying all of the cognitive, verbal, and social developments the boys are going through. Eli has a fantastic vocabulary. Not to brag, okay to brag a little, our pediatrician was VERY impressed with Eli's 15-20 word vocabulary at his 15 month well-baby check up. Not only could I recognize the words, but so could the doctor. At 15 months most babies have a vocabulary of 5 words. She was also very impressed with his ability to follow simples commands such as, "Pick up the book, and bring the book to mommy." He is also learning how to tease me by pretending to be asleep and then "waking up" and scaring me. He could do this for hours, unfortunately I can only play this game for several minutes. My favorite Eli game is when he walks over and asks for "More kickles" (tickles). I can't believe how well he can communicate and how he is clearly maturing in his social interactions as well. I think he might be smart enough to skip kindergarten and go straight to MIT. I wonder if MIT has a minimum age for admission? Hmmm.......I should probably check on that.

Anyway, Ian was always very ahead of the game when it came to vocabulary as well, and nothing has changed. It seems as though his language skills advance in spurts. Over the course of a week or two we will go from point A to G, but then it will take three months to go from G to H. I know this is normal, but it makes the rapid advances in his development seem that much more incredible. Here lately he has been hilarious. He says things that are so off the wall, that I just laugh at him, and he LOVES to make me laugh. Which brings me to the heart and soul of this entry.

On Wednesdays Cole takes an extended lunch hour (thank you Caterpillar for flexible office hour policies and PhD's who never adjusted to the normal 9-5 work day) so he can watch the boys while I go study the fabulous world of Organic Chemistry for two hours. Last Wednesday was kind of brisk so Cole was taking the boys to The Orpheum Children's Museum in Champaign. I love the hands-on activities The Orpheum has to offer, so much so that we are MEMBERS of the museum. The Orpheum is mainly indoors, but there is a courtyard, too, that just opened for the spring/summer season. Now the boys had the best of both worlds, they could play outside and duck in to warm up every now and then.

I also love The Orpheum because it gives the boys a chance to socialize with LOTS of different kids. Eli usually wants to be right in the middle of the chaos, and preferably the cause of said chaos, but Ian usually hangs back and kind of does things on his own. Every time we go, I talk to Ian about trying to make a new friend while we are there. He rarely ever acknowledges my pep talks with little more than a half-hearted "Yeah" or "Okay", so I was very surprised when he brought it up first during the drive to the museum.

From the backseat of the car, I heard Ian say, "Ian make a new friend at Children's Museum." I was so impressed I more or else squealed with excitement. He had been listening during all of those talks! Now it was my turn to keep the conversation going and possibly ask a question that would make him think a little bit before answering. I responded, "Oooohhh. That sounds like a great idea, Ian!!! Are you going to make friends with a boy or a girl?" I had done all of the important things child development experts encourage Superparents to do.

1. Reacted with enthusiasm

2. Praised him for following a suggestion I had made in the past

3. Furthered the conversation

4. Asked an open-ended question

5. Waited patiently for a one word answer

Only, I did not get a one word answer. I got a well thought out answer with stipulations. I was NOT prepared for the response he gave. I don't even know where he came up with an answer like this. Just to refresh your memory, I had asked if he would make friends with a boy or girl. He answered, "A girl. A girl who likes my haircut!"

WHAT?????? My two year old is already trying to impress the ladies? What is going on? I was caught so off guard I was temporarily speechless, which is really saying something for me. I glanced back at him in the mirror, and there he sat looking like he had just said, "The sky is blue." I started laughing, which in turn made him laugh. I laughed quite a bit, and lovingly informed him that he is a mess, which is exactly how I want him to be.

I am so impressed by how his brain works. This was clearly something he had to think of on his own. Cole and I don't talk like this except for every six weeks when I walk in covered with hair and Cole happily compliments me on the same haircut I have had for the past nine years. Other than beauty shop day, there is NO haircut talk at our house. I'm surrounded by males! It's not something they discuss.

I'm not sure when Ian quit being a baby and became a little boy, but the transition is definitely in full swing. His social and language skills are developing SO fast it's overwhelming. He has opinions, ideas, a very long and thorough memory, and an INCREDIBLE imagination. Cole and I try to do everything we can to help the boys' development stay on, if not ahead of, the curve. We read a TON of books to both boys each and every day. We make Ian speak in complete sentences before we respond to his requests. By that I mean, we coach him to say, "Mommy, can I have more milk, please?" rather than shoving a sippy cup in our faces and demanding "More!". Ian also has his basic preschool math workbooks in which he completes his "actibities", and he also has a collection of flash cards. He's still young for the workbooks and flash cards so some days are a success and other days are.......well, definitely not a success. Plus, we did baby sign language which is proven to give your children a HUGE head start in their communication skills, and as an added benefit it eliminates many tense moments between an angry baby and frustrated parent.

I would love to be able to take full credit for the maturing minds of my little baby geniuses. I mean, I grew them in my body, right? Well, I can't. I can show them every flash card, workbook, building block on Earth, but I can't make the boys "get it." Ultimately, I know that we were given two inherently bright children, and I am thankful for such a great blessing every single day. When it comes to my boys, I think my dad says it best: "Dani, you guys hit genetic gold."