I Hope He's Wrong

Today, the boys and I were eating dinner on the back porch. Matthew pointed to the cheese Cameron had on his plate. "I TRY IT," he suggested.

"No Matthew," replied Cameron. "You can't have cheese. You're allergic to cheese."

"NO! I TRY DAT!" insisted Matthew.

"Yes, you are. You are ALLERGIC to cheese!" said Cameron.

"NO, STOP IT!" answered Matthew. "I ALLERGIC TO PEANUT BUTTER!"

Just goes to show you that those little ears pick up waaayyyy more than I expect. It was particularly ironic that this conversation took place today, as Matthew was just at the allergist's office this morning for skin testing. To my utter shock and amazement, he tested negative for peanut allergy. He is still positive for milk and egg allergy. Next step is blood testing and then possibly on to food challenge, since you can be skin test negative and still allergic. Everybody cross your finger and toes that Matthew has truly (amazingly!) outgrown his peanut allergy.

Sweet Dreams

One morning, as I was making breakfast, Cameron and Matthew disappeared. I found them, cuddled together in my bed, whispering. "Did you have a good night's sleep, Matthew?" said Cameron.

"Yah," answered Matthew.

"Did you have any dreams?"

"Yah."

"What did you dream about?"

"Socc-a bawl. I kick da bawl! SCORE!" crowed Matthew, throwing his hands into the air.

Then this morning, I woke up to find that Cameron was sitting in Matthew's room with the light on. Cameron was cozy in the rocking chair and Matthew was sitting in his crib. They chatted for a while and then Cameron asked again if Matthew had had any dreams. "Yah," said Matthew. "I sleeping. I drinking. I FALL DOWN!"

For the concerned reader, let me assure you that Matthew has not witnessed any drinking and falling down incidents. I'd consider looking it up in one of those "Interpret Your Dreams" books, but I'm kind of afraid of what I might find.

Sweetest Brothers Ever

Last night, as I was reading Matthew his bed time stories, we heard Cameron crying. "DIDI!" shouted Matthew in alarm. He wriggled free of my grasp and went running to the living room. "Oh no! Didi problem!" he said. Cameron was laying on the couch and Matthew leaned his head in close. "It's okay," he murmured in the same soft, soothing tone that I use to comfort him. "It's okay, Didi."

He gently patted Cameron's back until Cameron turned, snuffling, to give him a big hug. "Thanks Matthew," said Cameron.

It made me think of all the fears I had when we were waiting to adopt. As our wait grew longer and longer, I fretted about how far apart in age our kids would be. Would they get along? Would they watch out for each other? Would they play together? Or would they always be at different stages, have different interests? And of course, they ARE at different stages and have different interests, but they also find lots of common ground. They love to play soccer together, to build with Legos together, to ride bikes together. But most of all, they just plain love each other. A few days ago, when Cameron didn't know I had walked into the room, I overheard him say to Matthew, "You know what Matthew? I sure am lucky that I have you." They are lucky to have each other and we are lucky to have them.

Where's Matthew?

Cameron plays this game with Matthew now in which he asks Matthew where someone is. "Where's Daddy?" says Cameron.

"THERE!" screams Matthew, pointing triumphantly.

"Where's Didi?"

"RIGHT THERE!" Matthew points to Cameron.

"Where's Mommy?"

"THERE!"

Where's Matthew?

And at this, Matthew points to his own chest and says, "RIGHT IN HERE!"

The Bad Parent

I don't even know what time it was. Maybe 3, 4am. "Bottle!" cried Matthew. "Milk in a bottle!"

I was tired. And the kid is almost two years old. He doesn't need a bottle of milk in the middle of the night. "No bottle!" I shouted back groggily. But he's persistent.

About ten minutes later, with Matthew still calling, "Tirsty! Need a bottle!" David gave in.

"All right, all right," I heard him say. "I'll get you a drink."

He padded down the hall and Matthew began to clap. "Yay Daddy! Get da bottle!" he cheered. Then, remembering that I had NOT gotten up to get him a bottle, he added. "Daddy good. Daddy GOOD Mama!"

Sometimes, I Don't Even Want to Know

Embarassing Confession

So, I hate to admit it but . . . sometimes I watch reality TV. While watching the Biggest Loser Finale last night, I had this thought:

Me, Watching Reality TV
Three hour finale?
Too many flashbacks. Who wins?
Thank God for Tivo

That's right, I think in haiku. It occurred to me that most reality shows could be efficiently and accurately recapped in this form. So I gave it a try.

Amazing Race

Language barrier
Slow taxi, can’t find pit stop
Last team to arrive

Survivor: The Loser

Secret alliance.
Tribal council. Think I’m safe.
Vote’s in. Blindsided.

Survivor: The Winner

I’m changing this game.
I would never lie, not me.
Except to win this.

The Bachelor: The Man

Twenty-five women
So hard to choose my wife.
Big boobs, blonde hair, love.

The Bachelor: The Woman

He is hot. Great guy.
Can’t believe it. I’m in love.
No rose. What a jerk.

Biggest Loser

I was fat. So sad.
Last chance workout, lots of tears.
Yay! So skinny now!

I should totally work for TV Guide.

A Short Note

As I think about my own wonderful family and the lovely weekend we just had, I am wishing for happiness for the many women who find Mother's Day painful -- women who have lost their mother, women who have lost a child, women who want more than anything to be a mother, women who are waiting to adopt. Most of all, I am wishing happiness and peace for Matthew's first mom and all the other mothers who have placed children for adoption.

Best Day

Above, the two beautiful boys who make me a mother.

I had a wonderful Mother's Day. Cameron in particular was brimming with excitement this year. All week he kept saying, "How many days until Mother's Day? You are going to have the BEST Mother's Day ever!" I knew I would, simply because it was so rewarding to see Cameron want to do something special for me.

When I woke up on Sunday, Cameron was running to get the presents set out on the table. "Open this one first," he said, handing me the bag he had brought home from school. Inside was a glass bottle that he had painted with flowers, which I will treasure always. Next came new sheets for the bed and an ice cream maker! Matthew's food allergies mean that he can't have ice cream and we've started to feel a bit guilty about our walks up to Dairy Queen now that he points and says, "I try dat?" Thanks to the ice cream maker, we'll now be able to make soy ice cream that we can all eat!

Cameron and David whipped up a batch of chocolate soy ice cream while Matthew and I took a walk in the afternoon. It was delicious and we all waited in anticipation for Matthew's first taste. Ignoring his spoon, he dipped his hand in and then licked his fingers. "Yucky," he announced and toddled off!

We spent a wonderful day together as a family and Cameron was TOTALLY right -- it was the best Mother's Day ever.

Well, That Fixes Everything!

Please excuse the recent paucity of photos. I'm having some camera issues.

This morning, Matthew was eating his cereal and began to throw it on the floor. This is a big no-no so I reminded him, "If you throw food on the floor, you will sit in your chair longer." He smiled and tossed some more Cheerios on the floor.

Then he screamed and cried as he sat, strapped in, while I cleaned up the mess. "Down! Down mama!"

"No," I said. "You threw food on the floor, so you have to sit." He gave this some thought and was then struck by inspiration.

"Dustbuster, mama! Get da Dustbuster!"

Me and My Big Mouth

Seems like a common story in the parenting world is this: "I (or my husband) try really hard to watch my mouth, but swearing is a bad habit of mine. The other day my toddler said (four-letter word here)." This has never been a concern of mine. I don't swear. Never have. I don't know why, I just don't. David doesn't swear either, so if my kids start using four-letter words, the preschool teacher is gonna hear from us!

I have, however, noticed that Matthew is picking up some new expressions from me. At tumbling last weekend he shouted, "Oh my gosh! Look at me!" In a moment of frustration this week he sighed, "Good gracious." Then, this morning, Matthew was playing with a his toy truck. He managed to get it to drive over an overturned Bilibo and triumphantly screamed, "Yowzers!"

It's eye-opening and kind of embarassing. Do I really talk like a 50's sitcom wife? Or a cartoon detective who pals around with a talking dog? What next? Is Matthew doomed to be teased in grade school because he says "Jeepers," "Zoinks" or "Jinkies?" Good golly, Miss Molly, I've got to stop using these old fashioned phrases!

I stand corrected . . .

Bang! "Ouchie!"

"Oh, Matthew, did you hurt your arm?"

"No, mama. Dat's elbow."

Whatever Works

Matthew is becoming a little more devious in his attempts to avoid things he doesn't like. Oh, don't get me wrong, he isn't opposed to the age old "throw yourself to the floor and scream" move, nor the time tested "baby goes boneless" trick. But he's noticed that a few other things get our attention and he isn't beneath trying them.

A few days ago, it was pretty hot out. As I placed Matthew in his carseat, the hot buckle touched him and he cried, "Hot! Too hot!" I quickly pulled him from the seat. Little did I know that the gears inside that little head were turning . . .

Today, I began to spray Matthew's hair in preparation for his hair styling. We do this every day, and Matthew is becoming less tolerant of the routine. He twists and turns to avoid the spray bottle. But this morning, he tried something different. As the mist reached his hair, he screamed, "Hot! Too hot!"

And another example. I was attempting to get Matthew dressed this morning and he was resisting. "Stop mama!" he shouted.

"What's wrong?" I said, still trying to get his leg into his pants.

"Ummmm," he stalled. "Didi hit me."

Of note, Cameron (aka Didi) was still fast asleep in his room when this transpired.

Ready to be Wowed by the Winter Olympics

Tonight, Cameron saw some clips of figure skating on the evening news. As he watched a male figure skater glide smoothly around the rink, he commented, "Wow! Can you believe he's not even hanging on to the side?" Just then, the figure skater did some kind of impressive move involving jumping in the air and spinning around (A lutz? A triple flip? A double salchow? Is that even how you spell salchow? I have no idea.) "WHOA!" shouted Cameron. "Man, if I was there I'd be clapping like CRAZY!"

The next clip was of pair skaters, the male skater holding the female skater up over his head. Just as Cameron began to ooh and ahh, the male skater stumbled and fell, dropping the female skater face-first onto the ice. (It looked like it would reeaaalllyyy hurt.) "Huh," said Cameron. "I guess they don't know you should always fall on your bottom."