While it Lasts

For as rough and tumble as he can be, Harrison always seems to want to be quite close quite often. When I curl up on the couch to watch PBS with him, he wants to be sitting on top of me and my blankets. When I give him time to play CampFire, he wants me to play with him, or better yet, he just wants to play while sitting in my lap. Yesterday, I was sitting on the floor with Raegan while he played Angry Birds and before I knew it, he was climbing up, over, and through my arms that were resting on my bent knees, pile driving his way into my space.

Something I read the other day talked about boys and their tackling hugs and overenthusiastic physical contact and I thought, "Oh, my! Oh, yes!" That's my boy! As a little, little one, he was always giving big hugs to other kids. Now he is the kid who comes running at 100 mph to wrap his arms around my legs for a squeeze (and does the same thing to his dad and his grandparents). This is all well and good except it usually means his big ol' noggin is usually crashing into my hip or stomach at the same time. But he means well and I know these moments aren't going to last forever, as the book Let Me Hold You Longer reminds me. 

I can't remember now if my mom gave me this book before or after Raegan was born, but I do remember the first time I read it. I sobbed and sobbed and could hardly read the type by the time I got to the last page. The whole concept is the story of a mother watching her little boy who grows up oh so quickly, and her wishes to hold him longer each step of the way. Sheesh. I can't even write about it without getting misty-eyed because it is so stinking true. How did my little 7 lb. 5 oz. baby boy suddenly become a preschooler who loves solving mysteries and playing Angry Birds?!

So lately I've been embracing all of those too hard, too fast embraces from Harrison. Like I told Ben last night, it's likely that in ten years or less, HD isn't going to want to be anywhere near me, so I might as well take advantage of every time he does right now. Truth is, I love that I am someone he wants to be near. I don't mind the often sticky and often hot little hands that sit on mine when I read to him or play CampFire with him, or the not-so-little feet that wiggle in next to me when we sit on the couch. It doesn't matter how big he gets; he will always be my sweet baby boy and I will always be asking for one more (tackling) hug.

Little Peanut

People ask or make comments about Raegan, quite often, that always go a little something like this: "She's little. Is she little? She seems little." And the reason I hear that stuff all the time is because it's true. Raegan is such a little peanut.

At 9 months, she weighed a little over 18 lbs. A week and a half ago, when I took her in for her 12 month Well Baby visit, she weighed 18 lbs., 7 oz. As you can probably imagine, that's not great weight gain for three months time. And whereas everything else at the exam was great, our doctor was visibly concerned about this. There are no nutritional or developmental concerns at this point, but still, she went from the 50th percentile of weight down to the 12th. In three months. Now I don't think our doc thinks I'm not feeding her, but he did ask, straight away, how she's been eating because that is clearly a big drop.

Well, let me tell you....

Feeding Raegan is not easy. This does not mean I don't try. We do three meals, two snacks, and three nursing sessions a day, but each one is an exercise or workout (of both the body and spirit, some days). But, for whatever reason, she just gets in these moods, quite often, where she doesn't want to eat.

A few months ago we were still nursing probably 5-6 times a day. About a month or two ago, that trimmed down to a solid four feedings from me. Some moms I know talk about how they miss nursing or hate it when the baby starts to wean; they miss that sweet connection time with their littles. Now, I will stand by my previous claims that Raegge is the happiest, smiliest, sweetest baby I know, but nursing her is rarely happy, smiley, or sweet. She is just too darn wiggly. And squirmy. And grabby. Seriously. When I sit down in the rocker and place her on the boppy, I have to prepare myself for moving hands and feet and, before long, her entire body. These days, she barely nurses for 5-8 minutes and then she's twisting off my lap, ready to go again. We haven't started any whole milk yet, but I'm thisclose to trying it. Part of me hates to give up nursing her because I think she still needs nutrients from my milk, but the rest of me will not miss the thrice-daily wrestling match.

Although we were a little late to start (maybe 6 1/2 or 7 months old?), we began introducing solids a while ago and followed much the same path that we did with Harrison. And Harrison is a wonderful eater; always has been. But I do have to admit, I have sucked big time at making baby food this time around. With HD, I barely bought any baby food from the store. With Raegan, it's been pretty much the opposite; most of her stuff has been jarred. I don't know if that has made the difference or if it is their personalities or preferences or what, but different they are. By this age, Harrison was eating all kind of food and certainly not all pureed. Raegan, as much as we keep trying and offering, doesn't seem to want anything to do with "real" food. She like yogurt and sometimes does cheese. And, of course, crunchy things like crackers and Cherrios, etc. But even bananas and ripe pears have been slow going, and steamed or chunked veggies or meats or pasta? Nope. Not having it.  You would not believe how much food ends up on our floor at each meal thanks to this little girl!

As an added bonus, Raegan is a noisy little squawker at the table. I mean, this girl is LOUD. We've taught her the signs for "more" and "please" but there is far more lunging at the table and squawking going on than polite little baby signs. Or she makes the signs and then yells anyway. I mean, whatever...it's just that I apparently gave birth to a child who is part pterodactyl. The real problem is that even when we give her whatever she's hollering for, she often just chucks it on the floor. So why is she yelling in the first place? I have no clue. And, because she's the baby, she gets away with it, which is terribly confusing, as you might imagine, for her 3-yr-old big brother who is not supposed to be dumping food on the floor.

As I often find myself saying (now that I have children and no longer try to swear so much): Goodness Graciousness.

We go back in three months for RL's next Well Baby. Hopefully we'll have made some progress with the eating and the weight gain by then, but I don't know. Right now Raegan is on the verge of walking and, as you know, she climbs all the time, so she is going to have start eating a LOT to actually get some calories to stick on her little bod. I think that's the other thing our doctor doesn't fully understand. When I say my children are active, I mean they move all the time, never sit still for a second. So how on earth are they ever going to get big? Even Harrison, my good eater, has never been a brute; it took him until age 15 months to cross the 20 lb. mark, and it looks like Little Sis might be taking more like 18+ to get there!

Noise and mess and frustration aside, we will keep trying. I'm really hoping she isn't going to have a big aversion to textures or anything like that. I guess at this point, we can't really know. We just have to keep offering (and plugging our ears and sweeping our floors!).

Letter of the Week

When we attended Harrison's Open House for preschool in August, one of the very first things they explained to the group of parents was Sharing Time. Each week, or most weeks, I guess, would be assigned a letter. On Tuesday of that week, each child would be able to bring in a sharing item that began with the week's assigned letter. Simple, cute, and easy peasy, or so I thought then.

Actually, the first week really was easy. It probably won't take you long guess to what Harrison chose (hint: it rhymes with Schmangry Nerd). And the next few weeks weren't too terrible, either, although I realized by Week D that we don't really have very many "big kid" toys in our house. We have dinosaurs, of course, which is what HD took for that day, but they aren't real or scary looking by any means. Not that I think those are appropriate for a 3-yr-old to be taking to school...but it seems that a lot of our toys lean toward the younger, babyish, book, or educational sets (a.k.a. not always cool for school). Perhaps this is my subconscious helicopter trying to shield my son from dark and scary? I don't know. But now, with each new week and letter, I find myself scratching my head and wondering if I should go to the store and buy some flipping new toy that would meet the letter and age requirements for preschool.

Of course I have not done that. We always find something that works, even if it takes two or three of us scouring the house to find an appropriate Sharing Time item. But somehow, Sharing Time has become quite the growing process for us...

The dinosaur was a great pick, but ended up in semi-disaster because we forgot to get it out of his back pack that day. I always walk in with Harrison to help him get his coat and bag off before RL & I make a mad dash back to the house for her morning nap. D Day happened to be the day picture orders were due, so I was far more concerned about handing off that paperwork and didn't think to help Harrison get his dinosaur out of his bag before we left. When I came to pick him up later that morning, he was in tears by the time we got to the van because he didn't get to share his item during Sharing Time. Apparently the kids all put their items in a box in the classroom and then the teacher pulls them out and asks the owner to share. Because HD tells me nothing about school, I had no idea this was the protocol. No idea it was his job (or, in his head, my job to help him) to get his item from his bag to the box. So we did an impromptu sharing there in the van where I held up the toy, asked who it belonged to and then listened as he told me about it. Whew for thinking on my feet. Crisis averted!

We spent the next week talking about how we would help each other remember to get his next sharing item from his bag. Seriously - all week we discussed it and obviously we did just that the following Tuesday, even though I cannot for the life of me remember now what he took for "E" that week. It was the week after that that caused us more heartache. On Letter "F"'s day, when I came back to collect him, his teacher was carrying his firetruck. I thought nothing of it until she handed it to me, explaining that he did not get to share it that day because he wouldn't sit down during sharing time. Alright then. Totally understand and appreciate the rule and her adherence to it. But you can probably imagine what we spent that next week talking about!

Letter G and Letter H, no problems...a gorilla and a hat and we were good. But now tomorrow is Letter I and I have hit another wall. Honestly. The only things I could think of (because let's face it - because I am part helicpoter, this is more my assignment than it is his) were ice cream, instant coffee, and Isotoners. I don't even own Isotoners any more and didn't really think the other two were great options for putting in his school bag, you know? Then I thought of igloo and instrument but yeah right on either of those. We love music but have no toy instruments beyond some baby toys that I knew he would instantly reject (because, I promise, he does have final say in the picking, even if I do a lot of the finding).

My next option? Google. I kid you not. This morning I typed "preschool sharing item I" into the almighty Google. And even if it failed! Well, not really, but it did not give me the magical list of Letter I items appropriate for a 3-yr-old to take to preschool for Sharing Time for which I was hoping. Really Google? Thanks a lot. But it did lead me to a list of preschool crafts for the Letter I which is where I discovered Insect. Even as I type this, I am laughing at myself because of just how Idiotic and Insane this makes me sound (which the laughing at myself probably doesn't help). But there you have it - a tired, frazzle-brained mama's desperate attempt to keep from leaving her young son once again traumatized by the Sharing Time box. 

INSECT! I thought. Perfect! But then I realized, once again, as Harrison and I searched the playroom, that we have no little toy bugs or anything that isn't babyish besides a little board book about insects and an insect catching Melissa and Doug puzzle. *Sigh*

So what is the final verdict for tomorrow's item? Well, it is entirely possible that he will be taking the foam letter "I" from our playmat in the living room which he discovered after we gave up on the playroom search. At this point, I'm just glad we made it until November before we had to resort to such measures!

================================================

Thanks to the pure genius and creativity of friends and family reading and responding to this post, we were able to come up with an entire list of I items (eat that, Google!). Harrison's ultimate choice was an ice cube tray, which took some time to locate, but locate we did and it is safely at school with him now and even out of his backpack. Score, Welschies! Never before had it occurred to me that household items were OK; this opens a whole new world of possibilities for the weeks to come! 

And also thanks to the beauty of the Internets, a friend reading this post suggested keeping a list of these items so we don't lose our minds when we go through this again next year. Brilliant, my dear! I have thought more than once, "How are we am I going to do this every week for a whole second time?!?!" But I had never thought to keep track of what we already brought. Since I can't think of a place where I can write a list and keep it for a whole year without losing it, I will just continue to update this page. And, to my relief, I remembered our "E" item last night. Again, whew!

A = Angry Bird
B = B Block
C = Clock (Fisher Price old school cool)
D = Dinosaur
E = Engine (Percy flashlight)
F = Fire truck
G = Gorilla
H = Hat (of the chef variety)
I = Ice cube tray
J = Jenni (picture of Mama)
K = Keys on a Keychain 
L = Lego Light Man (lego dude that doubles as a headlamp)
M = Monkey
N = Napkin
O = Owl hat (this felt like cheating, but so be it)
P = Piggie (from Angry Birds, of course)
Q = Quarters
R = Remote
S = Stripey Guy (stuffed animal thing with stripes)
T = Thomas the Train
U = Uncle John (or a picture of him, anyway; but saving this one for next year b/c HD was sick and missed this day)
V = Vegetable (of the plastic variety)
W = Watermelon (also plastic)
X = Xray
Y = missed this week due to illness - Yellow Bird would be my guess for what he would have picked had he gone to school this day
Z = Zebra (duh?!)

The Extras:
Something Thankful For: Book (I'll Teach My Dog 100 Words, I believe)
Ornament: Two homemade ones from Grandma Deb's little Christmas tree
Something Loved: Moo Cow (of course)

Get Out the Vote

Today, like the rest of this election cycle, I focused on my children. Harrison had preschool this morning and, thanks to the time change over the weekend, we were up bright and early and breakfasted and ready to go well before school began. Since we had the time, I asked him if he wanted to come with me to vote before school. Originally I had planned to go before picking him up when all I had to do was carry Raegan on my hip and not worry about lines or waiting or any of that jazz.

Of course, because he's an enthusiastic kid in general, HD was pumped. "Vote? We get to vote?! Yay!!!!!!!" was his response. So after brushing teeth and shimmying into shoes and coats and hats, we were out the door. [Full disclosure, though? Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood is Harrison's all-time newest and most favoritest show on PBS and last week or so, they ran an episode about voting; otherwise, I don't think he'd have a clue as to what it is or means....]

My polling location changed this year, so I didn't quite know what to expect for parking and crowds. Compared to any city or metropolitan area, I know I still had it quite easy in both regards, but the fact that I had to turn around twice before finding a parking spot and then walked in to a line of 15ish people caught me off guard. We only had thismuch time before school started and I didn't know if we'd make it in time with the wait.

I thought about bailing, but Harrison was so darn excited about the whole experience, that I decided to just stick it out. We got in line and began our wait.

In total, the whole experience from arrival to departure only took about 20 minutes. Again, nothing compared to those who wait hours or half a day or don't get to vote because of some silly error or ID issue. I am a proud citizen, always happy to exercise my right to vote, and this morning I was proud to be there with my children.

Harrison was fantastic. He stayed right by my side the entire time. Granted, a couple times he was crawling through my legs as if they were a tunnel, but he was quiet and calm and very, very, very patient for a 3-yr-old who is supposed to be on his way to preschool. Raegan also did very well, snuggling up on my shoulder and making eyes at a few of the others also waiting in line. We all chit-chatted about the new polling spot, not knowing why our line had so many and the other had none, and, of course, the weather. One man even commented on how patient Harrison was being; he was, of course, my new favoritest person of the day.

Then, magically, it was my turn to vote. I signed in, got my ballot, and then tried to figure out how I was going to quickly read and fill out my choices, all while holding a baby and keeping an eye on said 3-yr-old. I realized pretty quickly, after she tried to grab my pencil three times, that Raegan had to go to the floor. That also gave Harrison something to do, as he followed her over to the table she crawled to, and together, they played and made peekaboo faces at the older ladies working our precinct. I went as fast as I could and then it was time for stickers and a mad dash to the van so we could get to school (which we managed and only a few minutes late).

Harrison and I wore our stickers all day.

Then it was time for Daddy and Harrison to go vote this evening after haircuts. Again, HD got very excited, asking, "Can I vote?!" We had to explain that he still wasn't old enough, but I promised him that I would have voting waiting for him when he got home.

Here is what I came up with while the boys were gone:

Good thing, too, because it was the first thing he asked about as soon as they walked back in the door.

I read the ballot to him, handed him a pen, and let him vote for which stickers he wanted to make art with tomorrow morning.

His choice? (even though he later changed it to Ocean) Sports!

Four years ago, before children, I was far more vocal about my political stance. While I certainly don't care any less now (in fact, I probably care more), I made a conscious choice to stay out of the political fray this year, especially on facebook. I've been insulted and called names and poo-poo'ed, all indirectly, by friends and family members sharing their opinions online and I decided I just didn't want to go there this time. Like I said, I am a proud citizen and always happy to vote. Today, I was also a proud mama, happy to be sharing this great privilege and great responsibility with my two greatest accomplishments in this world. I want them to know that everyone has a voice and deserves to be able to make that voice heard; voting is how we do that.

While part of me wishes that our choices could be as simple as Harrison's ballot, the rest of me understands that just isn't our world or our political climate. Today feels like a big day. Come what may and no matter if we agree or disagree, I hope you also made your voice heard.

Raegan Leigh

This last year has been, in some ways, a beautiful blur.

How did we go so quickly from this:

 

 To this:

Then this:

And, one week ago, this:

How is it even possible that my sweet surprise baby girl is already one year old?!

For the last week or so, I've been thinking a lot about what life was like a year ago...when I was pregnant up to my eyeballs and wondering with each new day if Baby Welsch No. 2 was ever going to make his/her appearance.

Well, appear she did, and amazing she is.

From the very first moment, Raegan has impressed me with her strength and her happiness and her pure joy and enthusiasm for life. She is such a love. As a family unit we've gone through some major successes and some major bumps (hello - sleep?!) in the last year, but through it all, this little girl with her infectious grin kept me smiling and kept me going. I will never be able to repay her for all the wonder and cheer she has brought me, but you can sure bet I will spend the rest of my days trying to make my gratitude known in hugs and kisses and snuggles and encouraging words, for she deserves and inspires all of those things.

Lately Raegan has been my girl. As in, we've entered a little bit of a clingy stage, but more specifically, clingy-to-mama stage. Although it is sometimes frustrating to have her whine or cry out when I try to step away for a minute, it is also so sweet to be needed and loved so deeply. I know it won't be long before she's able to do so much more all by herself, so I'm choosing to enjoy the fact that, for the moment, she still very much needs me. With each day, though, she gets better at taking steps, communicating, and connecting with people. I cannot wait to see where in the world this great big heart in this teeny little girl will go. Or what it will do. Pretty sure she'll be spreading smiles and love no matter where the path leads.

Happy First Birthday, Raegan Leigh! You are such a loved Love.

Something Small

There have been several days/nights recently where it has been the All Mama All the Time show again at our house. Ben has been involved with some meetings/groups at school that have had him hopping after school and in the evenings, so it has been up to me to run the kids all day, evening, and night on more than one occasion. Plenty of mamas do this all the time or for far longer stints, and for that, I give them great credit. For me, some days, doing that is a stretch; either my patience or energy runs low and I snap. At least, that is certainly how it was several months ago when we were in the dark place of no sleep.

Currently we're sleeping pretty well (amazingly well by our own standards, actually), minus the fact that RL just refused to take an afternoon nap today (what the what?). Perhaps that is why I've been able to handle these All Day All Me stints with more grace and less yelling. Perhaps the few small changes I've made to my mindset are beginning to take hold. I don't know. But I do know I've been able to slow down a bit more and experience my time with my kids instead of just survive it, and for that, I am most grateful.

All that being said, I was happy to sneak away from the house for 40 minutes yesterday afternoon while Ben was between meetings. He had one break in the day and I gladly took his availability to stay with the kids to take a break for myself. Well, sort of for myself. I used that time to run to the grocery store to get things for our family. Does that count as me time? I think it does because I got to be in public in broad daylight without children which is obviously rare.

After grabbing my list and hopping in the car, I buzzed up to Walmart. On my way, though, I noticed a couple with their dog(s?) at the corner of the access road that leads to the store. We don't have many homeless people that I see all that often in Hastings (although I know they exist), but this is one spot where, every-so-often, you'll find someone with a sign asking for food or work or whatever.

Although I always take note of the person (or people), I have never done anything to help them. We're not in the habit of carrying cash (even though we love Dave Ramsey) and it seems that I always forget to pick up any extras when I'm in Walmart, so it never fails that when I drive by them on my way home, I have nothing to offer by means of help. Yesterday, thanks to the lack of distraction in the form of my two small cuties, I decided I would definitely do something for this couple.

Several weeks ago, I found an idea on Pinterest called Blessings Bags; essentially they were Ziploc bags filled with granola bars, toiletries, and other small items that could be made in bulk and then handed out as needed when out and about. I stuck it under my ideas for Wee Ones, thinking it was something we could do to teach our kids about compassion for others, plus they could also work as donations to our local shelter since, like I said, we don't often run across folks that are obviously homeless. Yesterday, though, I decided I would skip the Ziploc and just round up a few items to put together in a sack from the store that I could hand out the window on my return trip.

My trip through the store was a bit rushed. I didn't have much time since Ben had another meeting to get to, plus I kept thinking, what if they leave?, but I did manage to grab a few extra items along with all those on my grocery list. I got protein bars, toothbrush/floss/toothpaste travel kits, hand sanitizer, and even a bag of treats for the dog(s?). I knew that last one was not essential, but I wanted them to know that I really saw them (even if today I can't remember if it was one or two dogs); just because people are struggling doesn't meant they don't deserve the love of an animal in their lives.

I felt compelled to do something, even a small something, because I know I have been so blessed. Any sort of blessing I can share with another, in a bag, or through an act of kindness, or a smile or whatever, is something that allows me to give back to the world in thanks for what I have received. Ben and I have to make careful choices with our money in order for me to be able to stay home with our kids. One choice we've always made, though, is a giving column in our budget that allows us to give to a church or a social group or school fundraisers or public programs or anyone that just flat out needs it. It is proportiante to our income, so we can't always give as much as we'd like, but we are always happy to give. In turn, I was happy to know that without even running it by him, my husband would fully support the small donation that I made to that couple yesterday afternoon. In total it probably added up to about $15.00 worth of goods, so nothing much in the grand scheme of things, but hopefully it was something they could find sustaining, helpful, or at least thoughtful.

Because I tend to get a little worked up about things (OK, life in general), I was practically shaking when I pulled up to the corner. At first I think they were expecting me, like all the other cars, to just keep rolling past them. Instead, I rolled down my window and leaned forward so the man could see my face. I lifted the bag up from the front seat as he came over to collect it and told him that I hoped he had a nice day. Without even knowing what was in the bag, his face lit up and he thanked me, saying, "Oh, wow. Wow. Thank you. You have a good day, too."

Window up. Stop sign observed. Car rolling forward. That was it. That and the tears I felt welling up in my eyes because, again, I know how very blessed I am in this life.

So here's to loving well, living fully, and making a difference, even when it it is small. I can't wait to do this again, and hopefully the kids will be with me next time; I think that we teach so much by example, and I'm excited for the opportunity to teach Harrison (and his baby sis) about reaching out to others.

Celebrations! (The Best/Worst Idea)

At the end of last week and over last weekend, Harrison experienced some regression on potty training. That's as far as I'll go into the details, though, in hopes of sparing you the fun and hilarity that Ben and I got to experience in regards to cleaning up that regression. We had no idea what brought on the sudden relapse, but we knew we needed something to get HD back on track. Because really, he's been doing so well, especially considering how long we waited to start and how little time we had between the end of daytime diapers and the start of school.

We are what, seven weeks into preschool now? Not once has Harrison come home in different clothes than what he wore to school. Call me crazy, but I celebrate that every time I go to pick him up on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Not out loud, mind you....but in my head, I do a little proud mama happy dance because that's exactly what I am.

So when it came time to devise Motivation, we picked two "prizes" if Harrison could go all day with no accidents. The first was listening to his No.1 favorite music which is currently a CD from VBS that Grandma Deb gave him last year; he hasn't listened to it in a long time but recently rediscovered it and he wants to hear track one on that CD all. the. time. So, that one was easy peasy; no accidents equals listening to Pandamania before supper.

The second reward also came pretty naturally, thanks to Project 137. One of our recent prompts was to always carry birthday candles with us, for one never knows when one might need to celebrate. Fair enough, right? Well, I must confess, I didn't exactly toss a package of candles into my already full diaper bag or purse when I first read this prompt. But I did dig them out of the cupboard Monday night just before supper because I thought that Harrison would love the idea of lighting and blowing out a blue candle stuck in a muffin as part of a dinner celebration of no accidents that day. Side note: if you don't already know this, my son is a huge fan of muffins (and the color blue). Pretty much any day we have muffins is a good day, as far as he is concerned.

Turns out, if you combine muffins and a birthday candle, Harrison is one happy, happy boy! His face was glowing and he clapped and wiggled in his seat while we cheered him on and congratulated him on being accident free for the day. He was so excited that we were celebrating him. And his success. With a muffin! AND a candle!! Best prompt/inspiration ever.

So flash forward to tonight. We've had a good week, especially in terms of potty training. Harrison has made it through every day this week, including through Quiet Time (which is notoriously dangerous territory) and a playdate at our house (which is usually when he gets so distracted with play that he forgets to remember the bathroom in time) with no accidents. Fantastic! Another accident-free day in the books meant our fifth dinner celebration tonight via the candle in the muffin trick. And, because it's been a while since my last post, I decided I wanted to write about Harrison's celebrations and illustrate it with pictures, of course. So I grabbed the camera and got ready to document.

Here is his celebration:

Fun, right?


Well, I also thought it would be fun to get a picture of him with his celebration. So I helped him get into his seat at the table and then set this in front of him. Then I started to fiddle fart with the camera, trying to change the setting so I could get a good shot, all the while telling him to, "Wait, Honey! Just wait. Don't blow it out yet! Waaaaiiiiiiit!"

Hello. The kid is three. Three-year-olds are not well known for their patience or attention spans. So while I was still messing with my camera (why did I change the function to macro to take the dang picture of the muffin?!), he leaned in to investigate the celebration burning brightly in front of him, and before I knew it (or got the 'effin picture that was so darn pressing), he starts hollering, grabbing his face, and crying.

Yep, just when I thought I was going to get my nomination for Mama of the Year (or at least Clever Mama Moment of the Week), I was demoted to Mama Reject (or at least Mama Ditz) for putting a burning candle in front of my preschooler and then expecting him to sit and wait patiently with the ignited flame while I took his picture with said fire. Brilliant, huh?

Thankfully, Harrison was not seriously hurt or burnt. Ben swooped in to grab and blow out the candle and I got an ice pack to help cool off HD's face. I think he just got too close, realized how dang hot the thing was, and freaked out. Now that I think about it, the reaction might have had something to do with their preschool field trip from yesterday to the fire station...but that's OK; I would like my son to be fearful of some things and fire is definitely one thing to be cautious around.

Besides completely failing and freaking out my child, I thought I probably just ruined half of my potty reward program. As he was trying to calm down, Harrison was wiping tears from his face and saying, "I don't want to blow out the candle. I don't want the candle!" almost as if he thought we were going to force him to try it again. Poor kid!

No, Honey....Mama will not stick any more flaming celebrations in your face against your will and then demand you sit with it for a photo opp.

But, the beauty of a three-year-old's attention span may be my saving grace here. In a classic moment of preschooler flip-flop, Harrison then said he wanted the candle again for his celebration. So we lit it one more time, and instead of setting it directly in front of Little Man, Ben held it up and away from him; then, together, the three of us did our best Big Bad Wolf impression and blew it out from a nice, safe distance.

Whew.