Storm

This morning was nice and relaxing. While the littlest one napped, I kicked back and read magazines before playing trains with the oldest. There was stuff to be done, but instead I thought I’d take a breather. I now refer to those blissful moments as the calm before the storm. As I focused my attention on my reading, I failed to notice the storm clouds brewing above me. Even with the first claps of thunder at 11:15, I didn’t know what lay ahead.

11:15 Baby awakes with enthusiasm.
11:17 Sensing that one-on-one time with mommy has ended, toddler begins to act out.
11:20 Toddler crawls into crib with sister and begins to poke, jab and make her scream.
11:25 Change baby’s very messy diaper and listen to her whine and wail as I lather her with sunscreen.
11:32 Change toddler’s very messy diaper and listen to him whine and wail as I lather him with sunscreen.
11:47 Take business call. Watch son raid desk drawer and remove headphones and earbud covers, which he then takes to his little sister believing they are appropriate toys.
11:49 Wrap up phone call. Explain choking hazards to toddler.
11:58 Place smallest in stroller. Strongly suggest to oldest that he had better climb in for himself as mommy’s patience is running low.
12:02 Finally leave for Farmer’s Market 35 minutes later than forecasted.
12:27 Repeatedly ask toddler if he would like some fresh bread. Decipher his desired response from his 5 “no” and 7 “yes” answers.
12:38 Allow toddler to exit stroller and run a portion of the way home. Repeatedly remind said toddler that he must keep moving so we can get home for lunch and so he doesn’t get run over.
12:45 Instruct toddler that it is time to get back in stroller as busy street lies ahead. Hastily chase toddler as he runs towards busy street.
12:46 Wrestle toddler back into stroller and firmly reprimand.
12:58 Sit down to lunch with sounds of whining baby in background.
12:59 Remind toddler that lunch is for eating, not singing.
1:18 Excuse toddler from the table with nearly all his food left on his plate.
1:32 Decide to get baby ready for nap in an attempt to squelch her whining.
2:05 Place baby in crib as she finally sleeps after repeated screams and flip flops.
2:12 Inform toddler it’s time for bed.
2:19 Lay down with toddler. Hear cat loudly meowing through house.
2:20 Chase cat.
2:24 Lay down with toddler. Hear baby cry.
2:38 Make first attempt to lay baby back in crib.
2:55 Make second attempt to lay baby back in crib.
3:07 Wake baby due to a tickle in my throat.
3:47 Wake up to tickle in my throat. Squelch before waking baby. Make third and final attempt to place baby in crib.
3:52 Grab crackers and hummus. Sit in front of computer to get some work done.
3:55 Go to crying toddler. Decipher whines to finally understand he wants me to lay with him.
3:58 Hear noisy cat. Plot revenge.
4:00 Relieved that cat has quieted.
4:01 Wonder if cat is eating hummus.
4:03 Leave sleeping toddler’s room.
4:11 Hear baby wake. Hear toddler crying. Again.
4:12 Call husband and desperately beg him to get home. ASAP.
4:19 Feed starving toddler leftover lunch.
4:20 Ask why he’s crying. Try to examine “hurting teeth.” Decide to try later.
4:22 Ask why he’s crying. Try to examine “hurting teeth.” Tell him time to whine is over.
4:23 Frantically call husband for his exact location and ETA as background cries intensify.
4:24 Retreat to backyard for self-imposed timeout. Contemplate staying there all night. Ponder feasibility of driving to airport and taking first flight. Destination TBD.

Rooster

Apparently Kenna got the recessive early bird gene. True, her 7:30 a.m. or later wake-up time might be late according to some people’s standards. But in a house that prefers to sleep late, it can feel like the crack of dawn. Rather our family’s dominant sleep gene revels in late nights and late rises, thus making Kenna a bit of an anomaly. Stranger yet is the way in which she wakes up.

First let me explain that Matt’s preferred morning routine is to hit the snooze for an hour until he forces himself out of bed at the last minute. I just get irritated with the fact I can’t sleep longer. For Jonas’ first year, he would cry himself awake. Regardless of nighttime or naptime, the wails coming from his room alerted us to his rising. (I think it was because he was angry at realizing we had tricked him into sleeping.) But our sweet little Kenna has her own way of letting us know her day has begun. She coos and claps until someone comes to get her. And then she smiles and giggles. It’s as if she is saying, “Oh, what a beautiful day. I am so happy to be awake. I cannot wait to start the day.”

Of course I enjoyed Jonas’ 9 o’clock rise time, but the manner in which he woke left something to be desired. Hearing Kenna’s soft little voice and happy chatter makes the earlier time almost bearable…almost. Coffee helps make it more so.

Shrill

I’m growing very tired of my own voice:

Jonas, get off the cat.
Quit chasing the dog.
Jonas, be gentle with Kenna.
Let go of her hand.
Don’t kiss her too hard.
Get the blanket off her head.
Only Mommy and Daddy carry Kenna. She’s too heavy for you.
Yes, it hurts when she falls on the floor.
Let’s play in the living room.
You’ve seen enough videos today.
Are you all done coloring?
Please put away your crayons.
The ones all over the table…and floor…and couch.
They go in the bucket.
Well, where did you put it?
The bucket.
That had the crayons.
The ones on the table and floor and couch.
They go in the bucket.
Did you look under the couch.
There it is.
Yes, there’s a train outside. Focus on the crayons.
I don’t know where it’s going.
Yes, it’s on the tracks.
Yes, it’s going fast. Now focus. The crayons.
In the bucket.
All of them, please.
The bug won’t hurt you.
You can step on it.
You can do it.
You can do it.
Just put your foot on it.
There you go.
Now, back to the crayons.
The ones on the table.
In the bucket.
Get off the cat.

Vacation

Matt and I love taking vacations. We like exploring new places, seeing new sites and experiencing what the unfamiliar has to offer. We have rafted white waters, dwelled in big cities and snorkeled the aqua-blue ocean. So when we decided to pack up and head south for our first four-family-member getaway, I questioned what sort of experience we would have. No sandy beaches, dusty rock walls or bright city lights awaited us. Instead our adventure took us to a small town’s railway station where a big, blue tank engine named Thomas awaited us. To my surprise the memories we made in just a few, hot, sweaty hours are ones I’m sure we will keep forever—at least Matt and I will. But this time it wasn’t about us. It was about a two-and-a-half year old with a deep-rooted passion for everything trains.

We feared that perhaps the trip was premature. Would he be too young to appreciate it? Would he be scared by the enormous scale of Thomas? Or would he be completely disinterested? Our questions were answered as we pulled up to the station and heard our little one cry out, “There he is! There’s Thomas!” In that moment, the blistering temperatures, endless detours and ridiculously winding roads we had taken to get us there didn’t matter. They were small prices to pay to see such excitement and awe. It made me realize that perhaps this wasn’t the same as parasailing in the Bahamas or riding to the top of the Empire State Building. In some very important ways it was so much more.

Slumber party

Ten years ago today, I gave my (then future) kids one of the best gifts possible: I married my best friend. Yes, we were young at the time. No, it wasn’t a shotgun wedding…unless my gestation period is 7.5 years. We were young and in love. After three years of dating, we knew we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. During those first months of marriage, we would joke about how it felt more like a slumber party than any sort of serious, adult commitment. I’m happy to report that a decade later, the party continues, but with a few added guests…one dog, two cats and two kiddos.

We have learned a lot over the years, such as don’t ever take the Amtrak, get to know one another before bringing kids into a relationship, always have a rainy-day fund (you never know when the transmission is about to go out), goals change and eight years of college don’t always lead to a doctorate. But one thing remains constant: I am so blessed to have Matt as my husband. I keep realizing this truth in different ways.

The other night the two guys (Matt and Jonas) went on a walk, while I put Kenna to bed. It was a simple enough walk around the block. But as nearly a week has passed and each night Jonas has begged to go on another walk with “just Daddy and Jonas,” I understand that it was so much more. Every time Jonas asks for a guys-only walk or Kenna grins so big her nose wrinkles when she sees her daddy, I fall even further in love with this man I have shared over a third of my life with. And I just hope and pray that this sleepover lasts for many, many more years.

Pastime

Back in the pre-kids day, I loved sleeping in. I was a masterful sleeper inner, so much so that my good friends knew not to call before 10 am. If they did, they ran the risk of speaking to a groggy, cranky and confused Meagan. On a few occasions, upon hearing my what-time-is-it-and-why-are-you-calling-me-now voice, the person on the other end would simply apologize profusely, promise to call back later and promptly hang up the phone. You see, my true friends understood my passion for sleeping late…either that or they feared the wrath of waking me too early. Of course now in my post-kids days, sleeping in rarely occurs. Okay, sure I do typically get up at 8 am, which to some is sleeping in. But I beg to differ. Anything before 9 am cannot be considered sleeping in. Nothing beats that feeling of waking up when the sun has long-since risen to roll over, look at the clock and see that the day has already begun. For the last two days now, I have experienced that bliss. And with complete gratitude, a thankful heart and a tear or two of joy, I thank my children for that opportunity.

I don’t know what has happened that has led to my precious little ones catching another hour or more of sleep for the last two mornings, but I refuse to question it too much. Instead, I will just delight in this opportunity to once again experience a pastime I so deeply missed. Perhaps after Sleep In Day 1, they realized how much happier their mother was upon waking and in a Church Kid Tribunal, decided that it was in everyone’s best interest to proceed likewise the next day. But I know the possibility of a repeat performance again tomorrow is probably too much to ask for. More than likely their desire for cuddling or running or eating or something will trump my preference for morning slumber, so I will simply cling dearly to these two blissful mornings with the thought that perhaps in retirement, sleeping in will once again be attainable.

Chart Topper

Babies have a way of making people take notice. Walk into a store with a baby and you’ll be sure to have people glance your way and more than likely you’ll hear something along the lines of “Oh, look at that cute little baby.” It’s as if they are designed to push some sort of emotional button that causes an instant “awwww” sound to emerge. But for some reason our little Kenna Grace came wired to produce another response. It’s really more of a “he he he.” Upon seeing her, many people break into laughter. They do get around to the “Aw, she’s so cute,” but the laughter almost always precedes that. Why? Well, take one look at our little Michelin Man baby and you’ll see.

Our little cutie was born a respectable weight, but since her first check up, we knew she wouldn’t stay in that “average” column, well, maybe for her height, but definitely not for her poundage. In fact, she has been off the charts ever since. At each appointment, the doctor pulls out the growth chart. Typically the little dot representing a child’s current weight lies somewhere within the chart’s curved lines. But not our Kenna. Her dot floats somewhere above and beyond. Being the size of a typical 12-month-old at the ripe age of 7 months, causes people to take notice…of her cheeks that sink below her chin, her knees that have dimples and her arms that have 4—count them 4—plump rolls. Let’s just say “Baby Got Back” could be her theme song.

With overweight animals and incredibly round babies, it seems I have a knack for making mammals within my care rather fat. As for the babies, I guess we have just been blessed with good nursers (so much so that our doctor suggested I sell my milk). But the way we see it is there is just more of them to love, plus carrying them is a great workout. In the meantime, Matt had better watch out. With my talent for growing things, there might be a lot of him to love before too long!