Lash Blast

Normally when my babies are upset, I do not reach for my camera. As it was today, however, I already had the camera in my hand (what is it about life with Littles that just makes it so hard to follow one path, one plan in one direction for more than five seconds?). I decided that there are just as many stories in the tears as there are the smiles, so I started snapping photos of what turned out to be, for poor Mr. HD, a rather traumatic event....

It was an absolutely beautiful sunny day here, so we spent pretty much the entire afternoon in the backyard. Absolutely beautiful. I got to do a little reading, the kids got to do a lot of playing, and we even got to take a smoothie/frappe break mid-afternoon. Everyone was feeling good and we were taking pictures of all us in our (rather wild, rather varied) sun hats. But then, just like that, Harrison dropped his hat, started howling, and threw his hands up to his eyes where they stayed for many, many minutes as we tried to figure out what was wrong. As it turns out, when your babies have the most beautiful, long eyelashes....

...they can cause some less than beautiful moments. Really, it was as simple as eyelashes. But to be more specific, it was an errant eyelash stuck in his right eye, and wow, it was as if the world had ended. He wouldn't let us see his eye or touch his face or stop wiping and rubbing at the eye or blink like we kept encouraging him to do. And there were many, many tears and many, many, "But it hurts!!!" no matter if his eye was shut or momentarily open. Ben and I both took turns - rather long ones - working with him and I don't think either one of us accomplished much other than determining what the actual irritant was. 

At first I think we were both saying to ourselves, "Seriously? Our beautiful afternoon is turning into a major meltdown over an eyelash?" But the more I thought about it and put myself in HD's place, I realized that eyelashes gone astray can be so painful and I'm 31, not 3 1/2, so no wonder he was so upset! How do you tell a little guy that he needs to hold open his burning, stinging eye, so someone can stick their finger or a washcloth in there to try to get an eyelash to move off his eyeball? I mean, Ewwwww. No one likes to have anyone else poking around near their eyes, so I'm pretty sure now that the poor child was totally justified in being so upset with us and the fact that we couldn't just fix it without going to what seemed like (and probably were) less than awesome extremes.

After twenty-plus minutes (that felt more like two hours) and enough tear shedding, the darn eyelash moved. We never officially got it out or off ourselves but somehow it either vacated the premise, got stuck with his other lashes, or did something that allowed him (and us) some relief. And just like that, he was back to playing Angry Birds and running up and down the play constructure. And just like that, our beautiful afternoon resumed. Talk about being grateful, for once, for the short attention span of a three-going-on-four-year-old!

Daddy's Girl

I am positive that it is perfectly natural for a child to like and/or want one parent over the other. I am also positive that this preference can change on any given day or perhaps even several times during the same day. Therefore, I am totally confidant that my little sweet pea shadow will again, some day, want to be glommed to my side and not her daddy's. I am also totally confidant, however, that that day may not come for some time.

I mean, really. Do you see the look of adoration in the girl's eyes? And the way her smile lights up when she's in his arms?

Yep, I see it, too. And even though I could potentially feel quite shunned some days (as in, she starts screaming if I so much as try to remove her from her carseat or put her to bed instead of having her dearest father do it), the whole infatuation is just too darn sweet to take personally.

Like many littles, Raegan's first "word" was Mama. And while I still hear "Mama!" all the time from her, over the last few weeks, she has been requesting and calling out to and lunging for "Daddy!!" far more.

I first noticed the trend with her pre-sleep books. She had started these shenanigans where she wanted umpteen books read to her before being put in her crib - at nap and at night. We realized pretty quickly she was just working the system, so we decided three was the magic number and she would get no more than that, even though she still got to pick the reading material. As much as she's good at saying, "Mama" and "Daddy," she's even better at "No" and "Nope!" In other words, she makes her reading and feeding selections pretty darn clear. And her books of choice? Any and all board books about Daddy. We have a handful of them up in her room and I think I have read "My Daddy and I," "I Love My Daddy Because...," and "Daddy Hugs" more times in the last month than in the last four years. Well, that and "The Mitten" which happens to be her other favorite these days, full disclosure.

But, yes. Major Dad Favoritism began cropping up several weeks ago and now it is in full swing. If Ben goes out the door without her, she wails. If he isn't the one to hold, carry, change, feed, etc. her, she wails. Now, granted, she sometimes wails during meals and before sleep regardless of who is with her (not that I'm gloating about that or anything), but if she could have her choice, it would be All Daddy All the Time right now. And, as timing would have it, this is all actually rather perfect.

Ben finished up with his school year just in time for me to begin teaching an intense three-week session at the community college that started last Monday. Instead of him scurrying about in the mornings, trying to get showered and breakfasted and out the door, it's me who is doing all of those things. And while it's been challenging thanks to another round of nasty head colds for all four Welschies and the fact that I have never taught while quite this pregnant, I at least can leave the house every day knowing that the kids, RL in particular, are super thrilled to be hanging out with Dad for the morning.

I know my time in the sun with her will come back. And then go. And then come again. And really, that is just fine, because her daddy and I will always do our best to be there for her, no matter who she prefers on any given day.

Say "Yes" to the Mess

Perhaps it is because summer is coming (or in today's case, with temps in the mid-90s, perhaps it is because summer arrived). Perhaps just knowing that Ben is in his final week of teaching before break gives me that light at the end of the long-winter-tunnel feeling. Perhaps Captain Cranky Pants decided to give it up for an afternoon and just freaking roll with it. Or perhaps I'm still so tired from getting four hours of sleep two nights ago that I became too delusional and/or too drowsy to fight it today. I don't know.

Really, again as always, I have no answers as to why the day was how it was. And what it was, was good. It was also exhausting and draining and fuzzy-eyes-inducing at times, but at its core, this day was one of family and joy and celebration (and one that was really, really freaking hot).

Here is our joy for today:

Our sweet Harrison finished his first year of preschool today and he/we couldn't be more proud. I've always known his mind and his heart were big, and this year of learning from and with others just made both grow exponentially. And so this morning, along with the families of his classmates and his wonderful teachers, we celebrated all that they have done and all that they have learned. And just that they are who they are, because three- and four-year-olds are a damn handful, but they are amazing all the same. And, somehow, which is also amazing, I didn't cry!!

But back to my many perhapses...this afternoon, after our visitors had gone and before Ben came home, the kiddos and I escaped from the extreme heat but somehow all ended up doing so in different rooms. I don't often let that happen (which may or may not mean I'm a control freak, which may or may not explain Cpt. CP). But I got HD set up with PlayDoh in the dinning room and RL seemed content playing with clothes in one of the back bedrooms, so I decided to work on the stack of dishes that the day had produced.

Raegan never made a peep. A couple times I went to check on her and she was just sitting on the floor, often with a different garment from one of her drawers, trying to put something on or take something off. She didn't even look up at me when I checked on her. Totally doing her own thing; totally content.

Harrison made some peeps. At first he kept coming into the kitchen to get more "tools" to make a "birthday cake" for me, to the point that I had to tell him no more items from any more cupboards or drawers could go to the dining room. Then he started calling me ("Ring-ring! Ring-ring! Mama, answer your phone!") and telling me how long his cake had to bake or that I had to come to the party or what have you. But I'll give him this - he stayed in the dining room, working on his masterpiece. Totally noisy; totally content.

All of this meant I got to continue working on my own masterpiece - a perfectly and beautifully stacked drain board. No really - I consider my dish stacking skills one of my best and yet another awesome piece of my mom that lives in me. To this day my parents still don't have a dishwasher, so I was raised to wash, rinse, and stack like a pro. And sometimes, on the rare day like today, I get a kick out of doing it. (Note: often the dishes annoy the crap out of me, but I love a clean kitchen before I go to bed so I do them, even though they are very often very far from being kicky.)

And while I seem to have a problem with wandering points tonight, this dishes discussion brings me back, again, to where I began....I don't know what made today different, but this afternoon I was able to put my hands up (in the water, actually) and say, "OK. It is OK not to hoover over both children at the same time, all the time, driving myself crazy with the details. It is OK for us to do our own things. It is OK if our parallel time means messes for later." And with water splashes on my bumping belly, clothes all over one floor, and PlayDoh all over another, that is exactly what we did and OK is exactly what we were. Because, thank goodness, some days are just full of joy and work and play and mess (and air conditioning).

A Favorite, Continued

As I wrote last year, getting the goods for my planters is one of my favorite traditions we've established in our little family. I love, love, love doing something for Mother's Day that lets me bond with my littles and reminds me of how awesome my own mom is. Because, frankly, she's pretty awesome, and while I'll never have her patience or talent for full-on flower beds or gardens, planters I can do.

Normally I make both of my planters look exactly the same. I guess that's my Type A-ness, trying to make everything all balanced and perfect pretty. But this year, I couldn't decide on a small enough number of plants to fit equally in both; there were way too many beautiful colors and interesting buds for me to narrow it down. It didn't help (or maybe it did?) that I had a very anxious three-and-a-half year-old helping me with the picking...

For a wee bit I considered doing the plant shopping all by myself. Last year, even with Ben's help, it was a tad difficult to choose my plants and keep Toddler Man from destroying touching every plant in sight. OK, in his defense, he didn't actually destroy anything; he did, however, stress me out a bit as I tried to shop and I thought maybe I'd make the picking process a solo thing as a little gift to myself for Mother's Day. But then, somehow, we all ended up in the van and at the store together, and now I'm so glad we did.

A year makes a big difference. Harrison was still all over the place but he listened to my directions about looking with his eyes, not his hands, and he loved having me hand him the plants so he could hand them to Ben to be put in the cart. He also loved tracking down whatever color I said I needed next. "Here, Mama! Here's some yellow!!!" "This red one is mine! I pick this one!!" and so on is what we heard throughout our entire visit. There was, of course, some climbing on stacks of giant bags of soil and some frantic running through the aisles (done by HD - not me!), but really - it was a joy to have my whole family with me picking out my flowers and plants as they are the reason I get to celebrate this day in the first place.

The part of the process I did keep more for myself this year was the potting. I didn't want too much help in this department, so before I began, I let Raegan go down for her nap and Harrison distract himself with other ventures (OK, let's be honest - it was PBS. Ben needed to mow and it's Mother's Day, not Be Mother of the Year Day, so yes, I used TV to occupy my child for half an hour so I could play in the dirt in peace. And I'm more than OK with that!). He did, however, get in on helping with the second planter and did a good job of hanging on to each next plant while I dug its spot. Note: I tried to have him put them in the planter but his idea of "set in the hole" was more like "toss it at the planter" so we had to adjust a little on that. He was good at scooting dirt in around them, though. :)

Here are the final products. It is hard to tell from the photos that they aren't matchy-matchy, but we'll see as the warm weather continues, just how my contrasting colors and plants do. I hope to the high heavens I didn't buy anything that shouldn't be in a container this size, although I have a feeling this year's offering could turn out to be quite the experiment/lesson (however, if that's not a metaphor for parenting and life in general, I don't know what is!).

The Weepies of Gratitude

Apparently this pregnancy has given me some sort of seasonal affective disorder because my moods are clearly being swayed by the weather each and every day. Today happens to be a rainy spring day in Nebraska; thankfully it is not accompanied by gale force winds or the threat of snow. It is just soft, gentle rain. But, for whatever reason, my waterworks seem to be going today, too.

Even though I've known it was coming, it just sank in that one week from today is the end of Harrison's first year of preschool and ever since that occurred to me, pretty much everything I see or do or read is making me weepy. Oh, Dear Lord...is what some of you are thinking...She's losing it because her three-year-old finished a year of preK. What is she going to do when he goes to Kindergarten or learns to wipe his own behind? (for the record: a happy dance for the latter!)

Seriously, though, it is not just that the school year is ending or that the school year has flown by. I guess I'm just amazed that there has been an entire school year already for Little Man, and with the transition from winter to spring (finally!!!!) and soon enough from spring to summer, I'm just very much struck by all of the growth and change we are about to face once again as a family. Amazing things, these changes, but weepy-making ones, too, I suppose. And while I love to blame my weepies on pregnancy hormones or the rain, the simple truth is that I'm a crier, when happy or sad, and I am more than likely going to be a wee bit of a mess when I attend Harrison's end-of-year program next week. I'm just so stinkin' proud of him and so delighted with the wonderful introduction to school that his preK has given him this year.

That's why we got little presents for his teachers for Teacher Appreciation Week and took them to school this morning (insert first weepies of the day watching him hand them to his teachers). Normally my blog is nothing to Pin about, so please don't think I'm trying to go that route here, but I wanted to share what we did as Thank You gifts because it came from my very own brain. Can you believe it?! I had a clever and crafty little notion and it turned out to be something HD not only liked but also helped prepare and enjoyed giving! Score!!!

Here is what they looked like:

Yep. Your eyes are not playing tricks on you. We gave Harrison's teachers packages of AA batteries. WHY? you might ask? Because I read on a blog somewhere that teachers like practical gifts and I thought, "Huh, that makes a lot of sense. What do I always need more of in the house?" And with small children and all of their little noise-making-battery-sucking toys, the answer was pretty clear. So rather than spend money on a trinket or whatever for his teachers, we used our gift fund to buy something that I hope they can use. OK. I realize this means that the gift idea didn't come completely from my own brain since I got the inspiration online, but I can say the packaging was all my own (scribbles by HD; words by Mama). Here is the back:

See what we did there? All clever and stuff? Yep...I'm going to puff out  my weepy chest on this one because it is cute and punny and I'm OK with having both of those things in my life. Considering some of the Pinterest fails I've had, I'm glad my own foray into creating something Pinterest-esq went so well. Of course, I have no way of knowing what his teachers actually think of this rather odd little gift, but if nothing else, maybe it will stand out for originality?

What a year it has been. From secret songs and Letter of the Week drama (a big shout out to those of you who helped me on the weeks when I couldn't think of a blasted thing to take for various lettters!) to sweet crafty surprises, I am so awed by Harrison's growth and enjoyment from school. Now, if you'll excuse me, my nostalgia and I need to go find some tissues.

Duck says, "Moo"???

How is it even possible that my sweet baby girl is 18 months old already? How is it even possible that in just over two months (maybe less?), she won't be the only sweet baby in this house? But here we are...already a year and a half in with our little girl, and I stand in awe of not only how quickly time has gone but also how much Raegan Leigh has developed into such a person, so very much her own.

For one thing, Baby Girl clearly has style:

She also, clearly, loves her brother (note his monkey hat to her side and his Angry Bird slippers on her feet). The way those two light each other up is something that warms my heart at least once every day. [Let the record show, however, that the way they egg each other on is something that terrifies me at least once every day because I can only imagine what kind of shenanigans they will get into together as they grow.] The other night at the dinner table they were so connected, so delighted in sharing a conversation with each other that they just kept going and going, repeating the same phrase and giggling over and over that all Ben and I could do was watch and marvel at them.

Besides her brother, there are a few other things RL clearly loves: "Pup pups" and questions top the list. Every time she hears a dog bark, her eyes go big (as if they aren't already so) and she says, "Pup pup? Pup pup!" And at every animal she sees, be it an actual dog or a squirrel or a bird, her eyes go big as she points and exclaims, "Pup pup!!" This all becomes even more comical considering that the only animal sound she knows is "Moo" (so be prepared if you ask her what a dog or a duck says because she will not be answering you correctly!).

Right or wrong, though, she'll be delighted because the girl loves questions (can't imagine where she gets that). She answers them with "yep"s and "nope"s pretty accurately and, holy moly cow, does she ask them all the time. "What's that?" (sounds like "Wass dat?") and "What's this?" (sounds like "Wass dis?") are her two favorites. Every noise she hears, besides the dog barks, is followed by the big eyes and one of those two questions. Every. Noise. The trucks on the street. The wind blowing outside the house. The mailbox banging in the wind. The lawn mowers at the neighbor's house. The sirens sounding alarms around town. The birds up in the trees. The voices of other kids out playing. Someone dropping or doing something in another room. Seriously. It doesn't matter what is making the sound - she wants to know about it. And she wants to know every single time she hears the noise, even when it is the same noise over and over and over.

Which brings me back to the brother/sister connection the other night at dinner. Our neighbors were out mowing and Raegan was asking, naturally, "Wass dat?" - repeatedly. Normally I translate for her and say, "What's that?" and then answer by filling in the blank of whatever it is - repeatedly. This particular night, however, Harrison decided to start translating her words by saying, "What's that?" and it was like her world had been rocked in the best way possible. Her big, even brighter than normal, eyes swiveled to look at him in his chair and you could almost see the realization in her mind that someone else besides Mama got it and that that was pure awesomeness. Not that they don't interact all the time, but there was just something about this moment where they became the only two in the conversation and it was amazing, for all of us. I honestly can't even tell you how many times she asked, he repeated, and they giggled after that. I just know it was fabulous.

Another fabulous factor in the World of RL would be just how much of an old man she really is. I mean, the girl's favorite place in the house to be, by far, is the bench that sits below our kitchen window. No, really. Just look at the pictures here; the bench is in three of the four! But of course she doesn't like it just for sitting. She likes it for the access it grants her to the window and the neighborhood/world at large. She hangs out there, with or without me, snacking on cereal, taking pulls from her sippy cup, and keeping tabs on all the people and "pup pups" she sees. I mean really, she totally reminds me of my Grandpa Tim who, after moving to town in his what, 70s?, loved to sit at the picture window beside his dining room table, drink coffee, and keep watch over all the doings of the world around him. My daughter is just the same and this is how I find her more often than not, if I let her toddle off on her own for a bit:

To extend their lifespan and preserve their whiteness, I often put the curtains up as a preemptive move; however, she obviously knows how to achieve her goal whether I meet mine or not.

I will say, though, that Raegan is the smiliest and most cuddly of old men. She loves to give hugs and squeezes and lately she's even been leaning her face in for these supremely sloppy kisses. And if she sees anybody hugging anyone, she'll either run to join in (is there anything better than a toddler running? RL throws her arms back when she does, superhero style, and pounds the floor with fast, thunderous feet as she goes), or she'll scoop up a stuffed animal or pillow or whatever and give it some love. Such a funny peanut. And one we'll have to keep an eye on once New Baby arrives! I'm thinking a baby doll might be in order for her, or else I fear she might spend all day every day trying to love on her new brother or sister.

So Happy 18 Months, Sweet Raegge! You give each one of us so many reasons to smile and laugh every day. And to cliche it up, once again, your sweet personality shows that the more things change, the more they stay the same:

Love you!