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."