They're all different. No, really, now I actually believe it!

Everyone kept telling me each pregnancy is different (mine were all pretty similar and miserable, though this last one did kick my butt a little more than the first two- I figure I'm just getting older!) and that each child is different.  I smiled and nodded because the first two boys were very similar.

But now I can really believe it. 

Pete and Chester both had trouble breastfeeding.  Marek has been a dream.  He followed all of my research about how a breastfeeding relationship is supposed to go.  From the slightly sore nipples, to the six week growth spurt, it's like he actually read the books too!  I stopped by the LC office this week, and of course the LC recognized me immediately (I spent enough time in her office, she probably went through withdrawal when I stopped going after Chester started solids).  The LC, my NP, PCM, midwife, ENT and breast surgeon never could figure out why Chester mangled me so badly.  We never had a definitive answer, and so I just assumed this would be another year or more of screaming pain.  But Marek has excelled from day one.  He's well on his way to becoming my favorite!  (Just kidding.  A little)

Pete and Chester both wake up screaming angry.  They always have, from day one.  Regardless of if they're sleeping in my arms, in my bed or in their own bed, swaddled or unswaddled, day or night.  The eyes open and they squeal.  I envied mothers whose children "fussed" or "talked to themselves" when they wake up.  I nearly smacked the mom who said she waits to hear her baby on the monitor (we never needed a monitor, they wail loudly and immediately, so why amplify the cries?) then gets up and takes a shower, gets dressed and only then, 30 minutes later, does she go get her child from his crib.  I was always woken up by a shrill scream, and the crying doesn't stop.  Marek has started waking up and babbling in his crib!  Seriously.  I've showered twice this week, even put on make up and dried my hair too.  The older boys?  Both still wake up from nap screaming like someone is stabbing them. 

Not much time these days to blog, but I just wanted to put a little updatte out, and record my glee at how well we're doing.  Busy, but doing well!  I'm sending out hope for all of you Moms (like my pal JC, happy birthday!) who had difficult first babies and might be a little cautious about a second...   They really can be different!

What does 2 + 1 = ?????

A whole lot less time than before!

I'm not sure what's been taking so much time recently.  Though the obvious answer is "that pesky newborn" I don't think that's the whole answer!  We've had family visiting pretty much non-stop since Marek was born, so even when he's sleeping, we're catching up on all the family and hometown news from the last six months.

I know you're reading this blog solely for the gratuitous pictures of the new baby, so here's one:



Notice Chester wrestling Ryan in the background?  It's like Battle Royale around here most days!

 Marek is now three weeks old and he's much more alert already.  He's such a great eater, I couldn't be happier with his nursing.  He also had his first bottle this week, and though I went back to work teaching just one night a week, he still needs to eat while I'm in class!  Marek is still learning to like his binky, but the Wubanub is helping a lot.  It doesn't keep the binky from falling out of his mouth, but it certainly makes it easier for me to find and put back in his mouth while I'm driving. 

Ryan and I also took a trip to San Diego last week.  Crazy, I know, but he was being honored by the AFCEA US Naval Institute with the Copernicus Award, and we don't get to choose the date of the awards ceremony it was now or never. 

Here we are at the awards ceremony- Marek was totally content to snuggle up in the Moby wrap and sleep through most of the trip.  I also used the wrap to sneak him into the convention center even though it was supposed to be ages 16+, you can barely see him peeking out of the wrap!   

Here's Marek's first trip to the Beach.  He's snuggled up in the Moby, but I managed to dip my toes in the ocean.  So now I'm up to the Atlantic Ocean, Gulf of Alaska, Caribbean Sea, Mediterranean Sea and Pacific Ocean.  I'm taking suggestions for my toes' next adventure!

 We also took a few side trips while we were in San Diego.  I'd never been to California before, and it was nice to have a little extra time to explore.  This was taken at the Mt. Soledad Vetrans' Memorial.  It's so weird to be at the beach and then up in the mountains ten minutes later!  As we drove up the steep and winding neighborhood streets, I kept thinking how crazy it must be to plow them in the winter.  Then I realized this is winter and clearly there's no snow.  If we ever get stationed in San Diego, it will be a completely different experience than New England, and even Virginia!

Speaking of totally different.  Let's compare last winter to this winter.   First is a picture from this winter, with the two inches of snow we've had.  The boys played outside the one morning that we had snow.  It melted later that day.  Second is a picture from last winter.  We had so much snow that we were running out of room to put the snow after Ryan shoveled it off the driveway!

January 2012

January 2011

 Finally, we've been taking advantage of Free Friday bowling over at Hanscom Air Force Base.  The first time we went when Marek was 5 days old and I needed some activity for the boys while Ryan enrolled Marek in DEERS.  I wasn't sure how they would do, if they would be able to hold the ball, or understand the concept, but I shouldn't have worried at all.  Both Pete and Chester now love "Rolling Balls".  

First, they find EVERY six pound ball in the entire alley.

Whoever invented this thing is genius.  We also use the bumpers and they hit pins every time!

There's Pete's strike! 

So there are the updates.  I can't promise I'll be back soon, but I'll try to keep up!

Chivalry (or perhaps Pity) is not dead.

Last week I went grocery shopping on a Sunday night.  Anyone in my local area will tell you Sunday night at Market Basket is the worst idea ever (even worse than the Commissary on the first of the month!).  I was actually pretty excited about it because I scored an evening shopping with only one child, while Ryan kept Chester home to get ready for bed. 

The grocery closes at 7pm on Sunday nights.  I arrived at 5:30pm with a short shopping list, including some turkey and cheese from the deli.  Pete pulled a deli number for me- number 52.  I checked and saw they were only on 15.  Seriously.  15.  The deli was mobbed, as expected, with everyone who packs a lunch for work or school every day.  I finished my shopping, checking back often to make sure I didn't miss my number.  After finishing my entire list they were on 31.  So Pete and I settled in to wait for our number, and I mentally prepared myself for a tantrum or meltdown.  We compared his number (that's five-two for the three-year old crowd) to the deli number and I chatted him up about school, and what letters he learned this week (J and K), and what starts with letter K (kite, kitten, kangaroo). 

Either we were the most annoying cart in the deli area, or this older gentleman was truly an angel because he walked over and told me he had pulled a number, and his wife had also pulled a number, so would I like number 37?  I can't exactly jump for joy, and in would be inappropriate to kiss a total stranger in the grocery store, so instead I just thanked him earnestly and accepted his extra number.  Even Pete must have been relieved because he also said "thank you sir" (I seriously love this kid, I can't claim I've been the best mom, but he is the best three year old I know!) and started comparing his new number to the deli numbers.  "Mom, we're three-seven, and that says three-two, are we next?" 

Less than ten minutes later I ordered our turkey and cheese and we headed for the checkout.  Checking the clock as we left, I realized that without that gentleman's kind offer of his extra number, we wouldn't have gotten our deli order before the store closed. 

So thank you, kind man at the deli counter, you made our week.  Or at least our sandwiches this week.

Funny sh*t my kid says.

Right now only one of them talks with any real communicative skills, and I'm rolling on the floor already.  I can't wait for both of them to talk, I imagine I'll be laughing too hard to type when that finally happens.

I try to weave the new Baby into some of our daily conversations, just to prep the boys for their soon-to-be baby brother.  I didn't really bother with this when we were expecting Chester, I just pointed out pictures of babies and said "baby", while Pete repeated "baby".  Whether he knew or understood that a baby was coming to his house is still up for debate, but it worked out in the end.  This time, I just bring up the new Baby randomly and see Pete's reaction.  Chester... he still doesn't care about a baby, and just spends his time pointing to pictures of large cartoon characters, saying Mommy. 

This morning, I served Pete and Chester their eggs and toast.  Pete specified that he wanted "Bagel Toast" so we had a few extra minutes to chat while the bagel toasted.  I asked Pete if the new Baby would eat eggs and toast for breakfast too.  He said "No, babies drink milk."  Oh, that's right, good job!  We probably should have just stopped there and considered the conversation a success. 

Pete asked if he could feed the new Baby Dinosaur and I told him that some babies eat milk from bottles and some babies eat milk from boobies.  I asked Pete if he remembered when Chester was a little baby, did Chester eat from a bottle or boobies?  For the record, Chester did take bottles sometimes too, and both of my boys have done bottle and breast, and Pete usually answers this question correctly.  This morning, however, he skipped my question and went right to his own question, "can I feed the Baby Dinosaur too?"  I explained that I could make some Mommy milk for Pete to put in a bottle for the baby.  Oh, but that wasn't good enough, he wanted to tell me more about his plan to feed the Baby Dinosaur. 

Pete has decided that I should put milk in his belly and sew it up so he can give the baby some boobies.  Oh, and we can practice with Killer.  Killer will like Mommy milk, and Pete will give it to him from Pete's boobies. 

Score:  Mommy- 0, Pete- 1

Sending them out into the big wide world.

Nothing tests your success as a parent like sending your kid out into the world.  Or, in my case, the big wide world known as pre-school. 

Supervised play dates are one thing, as you can instantly correct inappropriate behavior like hitting, pushing or not sharing.  Well, as instantly as your slow pregnant ass can fly across the room when your 19 month old is using the xylophone mallet to whack his girlfriend on the head over and over.  (sorry Olivia!)  But what happens when you turn 18 3-4year olds loose in a room with two teachers?  Will Pete remember to take turns?  How will he react when someone else grabs the toy he's playing with?  What if he's the one grabbing a toy someone else is playing with?  Oh the shame!  Will he be gentle and kind?

During pre-school open house/orientation today, I watched him interact with some other children, and didn't see any egregious social errors.  But that was just one hour, and tomorrow it's three hours without Mommy.  Will he remember to say please and thank you?  Did we practice Miss Angela's name enough?  Will he remember how we practiced "Hi, I'm Pete, what's your name?  Want to play trucks together?"  How many times do I have to make him repeat "yes ma'am" before it's automatic?  And does he have a firm grasp on the difference between sir and ma'am?   Will he say "bye bye and thank you" when it's time to leave?

Will he start to cry if she tells him it's time to go pee in the potty (instead of playing with a truck?)  What happens tomorrow if he has to poop?  We've practiced wiping.  But does Miss Angela plan to stand there and help him fold up the toilet paper before reminding him to wipe until it comes back clean?  And will she wait patiently while he sings his ABCs and scrubs hand, back (of one hand), back (of the other hand), fingers?  And why didn't I know there was an actual hand-washing song we should have been using instead of just the ABCs?  Please Lord, don't let Pete call Miss Angela to the bathroom like he called me in this afternoon, to tell me his penis was getting big and pointing up.   

Will he whine and cry when it's time to leave the playground?  How would she know to prompt him to say "bye bye slides, see you soon slides" so he'll happily walk back inside?  Will all the other three year olds play so intently they forget to stop, and end up peeing their pants?  Will any other kids notice, and will they make fun of him?  If they play with playdough, will he remember not to eat it?  When it's snack time, will he say "me have a cookie too please" or will he remember "MAY I have a cookie too please".  Not that they serve cookies for snacks, but I do sometimes!  Did I do the right thing selecting white milk instead of chocolate milk, or will that cause a tantrum every day at snack? 
 
I swear to you, we've practiced these things over and over.  We've talked about going to school, and what is expected.  I know other 3 1/2 year olds not nearly as potty-sufficient as Pete (including a child in a pull-up at orientation today!) so I feel he has to be ahead of the game there but I don't really have a frame of reference for his social skills or speech and grammar, since he's my oldest and we know so few other 3 year olds.  Have we practiced enough?  Should I have waited to send him until 4 year old pre-school?  Would another year of me prompting "is that how you ask for a cup?" get him to actually ask politely the first time?

Oh please Lord, let my Baby do a good job tomorrow! 

Pete's first love reunited!

Pete's first date was pretty sweet, for a three month old.  He even scored an older chick!  TPK was about eight months old when Pete took her to the 7/11 and a Kenny Chesney concert, and of course, as responsible mothers, we chaperoned.  Sadly, he lost any chance he had of getting lucky when he fell asleep for most of the concert.  And the breasts he spent the most time with that night were mine. 

She must have forgiven him for falling asleep during the concert, because TPK invited Pete over for some tummy-time a few weeks later.  She even used the flirty "gently brush his hair back from his eyes" technique.  He responded with raspberry lips.  He was totally into her. 

In true Coast Guard fashion, TPK sadly moved away after their summer fling, and we only ever saw her status updates on facebook.  Pete moved to Boston later that year too, and made plenty of male friends, but never found another girlfriend like TPK.  Three years later, we got a message that Pete's girlfriend was being transferred to Massachusetts!  The Coast Guard is famous (our infamous) for being so small that you continually run into the same people over and over during the course of a 20+ year career.  In this case, Pete's first love returns and is living just over an hour South of us.

I picked up the K family from the airport and we enjoyed dinner grilled in the backyard by my fabulous husband.  TPK and TPK2 (her little brother) made fast friends with OMC, Pete and Chester too.  All the kids got along famously, playing on the slides.  Pete even scored a kiss from his old flame!  JBC and I are already planning lots of trips to Cape Cod for summer playdates.  Forgive the pictures, I couldn't get them to stand still long enough to take a good picture.