What's that smell?

Cole has begun to pay attention to his farts. He'll look at me and say "My butt say pffffttt!"

So, always trying to increase his vocabulary, I've started explaining to him, "Oh, you PASSED GAS."

The other night Dan forced out one of his huge, offensive Coke burps and Cole looked up and commented, "Dada pass gass out his mouth." So I thought the "pass gas" terminology was sticking.

Until the other day...

Cole and I were sitting in McDonald's having lunch together and I smelled shit eminating up from his crotch. There were people at the table next to us, and I figured it wouldn't be long until the stench wafted over to them, so I tried to be pro-active and address any diaper-changing needs before the smell was too widespread.

"Cole, did you poo-poo?"

"No, just pee-pee."

I leaned over and checked his diaper, and, lo and behold, it was clean. Noticing how perplexed I was, Cole explained, "I farted."

"What did you say?" I was horrified. This was not the vocab term I had hoped for. I didn't even know he knew what a fart was. What happened to "passing gas"?

"I FARTed," he said, loud enough for all the surrounding tables to hear.

Next time I'll just let the smell of shit waft up from his crotch and leave it at that.

Opa's Song

I think I've listend to University of Michigan's fight song, The Victors, about 100 times in the last few weeks. This is "Opa's song" to Cole, since Opa is a die-hard Michigan fan. Cole is learning it in preparation for his return to The Big House for Michigan vs. Penn State this fall. He will sit in the back of the car and yell "Opa's Song" over and over, as I play it ad nauseum from my ipod.

Sometimes he mixes it up and yells "Mama's song," at which point I play My Wish. Sometimes he yells "Dada's song," at which point I play Higher. But his favorite is "Opa's Song." Now he will yell "Hail! Hail!" both when it plays and sometimes randomly when the song is not even on. I think we might have a future Wolverine on our hands!

Moving Up, or Maybe Moving Out

Today when I dropped Graham off at day care, he went into the "First Steps" classroom. He's transitioning into that new room little by little, leaving the Infants room behind. He thinks it's great -- new toys, new teachers to check out... but I was all teary eyed when I left him there, because my baby is growing up.

The day care dilemma is a hard one. They are both still in the phenomenal Goddard School right by our old house, the one they've been in ever since they were each 6 weeks old. Not all Goddards are the same, but this one is award-winning and we've loved everything about it. In February when we put the contract on our new house, I began my tour of high-end day cares near in our new part of town. There are two other Goddard Schools near us, but neither of them are as good as the one they currently attend, which is now a 30 minute drive one-way. On my tour of the Goddard house right up the road I saw a number of warning signs: a teacher yelling at her class, an infant room teacher (who would have been Graham's) who was condescending to me beyond belief, one classroom where only one teacher was in the room when there were supposed to be two, art gone wild in another room - with no art smocks and purple paint consequently all over the back of this kid's light pink shirt, no windows low enough for little eyes to see out of, and no bathrooms in any of the rooms (kids have to leave the rooms to go poddy). The other Goddard was farther away and didn't really get me excited. I also toured a nearby PrimRose, but that was too, too rigid, i.e., "We pride ourselves on being an ACADEMIC center." Give me a break! They are babies! My FIRST choice is The Cedarhouse School, an independent place started by a mom who didn't feel like any day care was good enough for her kid. When you walk in the classrooms, you feel like you're in a pottery barn kids catalogue. And both kids and teachers are happy. It was like a little day care utopia. They have a big beautiful gym and bring in private companies to do their classes there, so you don't have to haul your kid around trying to get him the same experience. They do foreign language. They do it ALL! Problem is, there is a KILLER wait list and I don't know if and when I'll ever be able to find two baby spots.

So, I'm stuck with two kids in a great school that's 30 minutes from our new house and am spending too much of my life in the car. Yesterday I kept Graham home with me to have Mommy-and-me day, and by the time we dropped Cole off and then picked him up later on, Graham had been strapped in the car seat for two hours on a day that was supposed to be his fun day.

So I looked a little further and found this day care called Chesterbrook that is literally 4 minutes from us. And, even better, they have spots for BOTH boys right now. It was recommended by another doctor at work who had his kids there and LOVED it. I have incredibly high standards, because nothing is more important than my kids. I went and toured it and the physical facility fell short of my expectations (everything needs a new coat of paint), but I liked the attitude there and I liked what I saw happening in the classrooms. And I like that we'd have TWO LESS HOURS of travel time, and the boys would be right up the road from us if they got sick (which they often do). And... they are open earlier in the morning and later at night. AND... they provide all meals (breakfast, snacks, beverage and lunch), which would save me 3o-40 minutes of chopping, bagging, labelling food and packing up their breakfasts/lunches at night. Basically, I like it because it's convenient for me... which would translate into a better home life and more of it for them.

Dan is going to look at Chesterbrook tomorrow to give his opinion. It is such a dilemma. Do we want them close for better quality of life at home for all of us, or do we drive all over God's creation for maybe a few more amenities that they may not even notice? The other thing is that when they turn school age, all the other schools in question do not even provide buses to their elementary schools. But Chesterbrook will bus them to and from their elementary school when the time comes. I'm thinking maybe enroll the there while we wait for something to open up at The Cedarhouse. Then, if and when they get spots at The Cedarhouse we can re-evaluate (the drawback for Cedarhouse is that it is a good 15-20 minute drive, better than what we are doing now, but still not quite ideal.. and they won't be able to bus when they become school age).

I feel like a high-end day care connoisseur. I know what all the pros and cons are at each place but I still can't make up my mind because no place has it all and it comes down to what's more important. Anyone have any advice? It is such a difficult decision and has been more agonizing for me than deciding what house to buy and what job to choose. I'd love to hear any helpful insights!

32 and damn fine

We celebrated my birthday this past weekend. I can count on one hand the amount of times since I've been a mother that we've gotten a babysitter and have gone and had some grown-up fun. This is because we require so many babysitters just to allow Dan and I to work, with all of his travelling and all of my weird hours. It feels a bit frivolous to have a babysitter come not because we HAVE to but because we actually WANT to indulge ourselves a little.

So, we had our big night out with a our favorite local couple, the Thackstons. For a few glorious hours I was not a doc and not a mom but just some chic boozing it up a bit. We went to a new hotspot in town, Can-Can, for some French food, then we walked down Cary Street to Bev's for some hand-made icecream. Then we took the party back to our house so the babysitter could leave and we had some more drinks on the deck while the kids slept. My last two birthdays have not been particularly festive, so it felt GREAT to CELEBRATE!

I got exactly what I wanted for my present -- another "Cole & Graham" necklace. I got one for Christmas and I wear it everyday to keep my babies close to my heart. I asked for another one so I can mix up my colors a bit. Great gift for all the moms and grandmoms in your life, by the way!

Birthdays are AWESOME!

Stepping out, Speaking out

Stepping out.

Graham took his first unassisted steps last weekend. I thought his first two little steps on his own were from the chair to me, until Dan came down to the playroom shortly after and corrected me when I prouldy announced "Graham just took his first steps to me!"

"Oh... he took a step from the coffee table to me a few days ago."

You'd think MAYBE this might be something worth mentioning when it happened? Not until I tried to take credit for being the target of Graham's first steps did Dan claim that honor. That's okay, we'll give Dan that one, since overall Graham is a Mama's boy.

Then this weekend Graham REALLY got his confidence and has been taking 5 or 6 steps at a time. It won't be long until his little baby walker is retired!

Speaking out.

Cole is constantly being reprimanded and put in time-out for for hitting, kicking, and pushing down Gi-gi. But Graham LOVES Cole and continually goes back for more. The other day Cole was standing near where Graham was hanging onto the ottoman and Graham transferred right over to Cole and started hanging on him.

"No! Gi-gi!"

"Cole, what?"

Cole looked up at me and pointed at his little brother and tattled on him for the first ever time in the most pathetic little dramatic whine: "Gi-gi push me!"

And so it starts...

Happy 1st Birthday Graham!

Dear Graham,

My little angel, you turned 1 year old last week. A year ago when I was bringing you into the world, I had no idea what a precious, gentle, sweet little soul you would be. If I could spend all day every day sitting and cuddling you, I would, because there is nothing sweeter than your warm nuzzle on my shoulder.

Maybe it's because you are our second child, but you are such an easy baby. You go for days without crying. Instead of fussing when you don't get something, you'll hang back and patiently wait for us to meet your needs. I don't know where you get your patience, because neither Dada nor I are anywhere near this patient. And then when you finally get the attention you need, you light up in your big cheeky "I love you" grin and reward us with your million-watt smile. We all could learn a lesson from you about positive reinforcement. You are already a glass-half-full kind of person.

When things don’t go your way you are the most forgiving and easy-going little man. The other day Cole hauled off and hit you in both cheeks with BOTH hands simultaneously while you were bathing together. I was so busy disclipining Cole that I didn't fully appreciate how little attention you required after what was probably a traumatic event. When I got done yelling at Cole, Oma pointed out, "Man, he took that like a champ. Didn't even cry. Just kept doing what he was doing." Likewise, the other night while I was changing Cole's diaper, you managed to pinch your fingers in Cole's dresser drawer, and you actually DID cry for once. Of course, I had a finger-full of diaper creme and couldn't pick you up right that instant. By the time I threw Cole's diaper on and wiped my hand and could get to you, you had already comforted yourself and were done with the tears. It's like you're just thankful and happy for what you have and don't want to waste time bitching. May you always keep this rare and enviable outlook on life. I'm still no sure where you got it.

Even when you do fuss for longer than a few seconds it's so hard to get mad at you. Dada and I often comment that we don't mind hauling our asses out of bed at 4am on the now very rare nights that you don't sleep through the night, because even at that hour you are unusually sweet and just take your bottle and snuggle up to us then doze right back off. It's easy to tell when you are sick, because that's actually the only time you really, really cry.

Next to happy in the dictionary should be a picture of your face. Everyone comments about your smile, and you flash it often, as if you know it's your best asset. There is nothing more rewarding than getting on the floor and crawling over to where you are contently playing by yourself and giving you a big tickle or squeeze or kiss then hearing your HUGE squeal of glee and watching the joy just radiate out of your face.

Many things make you happy:

You love your walker, and soon you will be walking on your own. With the walker's help you are practically running. On your own, you will stand and balance on two feet with ease, but you are still hesitant about taking that first step. You want to so badly, I can tell, but aren't quite sure enough yet.

You love WATER.

If I don't hear you or see you, I go to the dog's water dish and usually find you tipping it over and gleefully playing in the puddle. For your birthday you got a water table and you've been having a grand old time splashing away in it on the porch.

You love exploring. While you are content and easy-going, you are NOT timid. You'll assert yourself and get into the middle of whatever is going on and then just be so pleased with yourself... Like when you crawl on over and sit your little butt right in the middle of the big picture book we're trying to read Cole at bedtime, or when you come into my room while I'm trying to get ready and help yourself to my make-up drawer and start sucking on my lipstick, or when you try to steal our beer,or when when you crawled into the middle of the sandbox while the bigger kids where playing.

And you love, above all, your mama. Definitely a mama’s boy, you always want to be nuzzled into my neck, and I love it. When I hold you and kiss your fat little face and stroke your soft whispy baby hair, it is instantly calming. It's like you radiate purity and peace.

I can't believe you are one now. Your first year has gone by so fast. You have blossomed before my eyes into this angel of a baby, and I am so lucky to call you my son. I know you are going to do great things.

Happy Birthday to my perfect little man.

I love you!

Love,

Mama