The Christmas Conundrum

I love the holidays. I even have a tag specifically for christmas-themed posts. It's called Holly Jolly. This year we're off to a late start with the decorating (clarification: SOB is off to a late start. The inside of the house is all a-twinkle!) but otherwise the christmas season is in full swing around here.

But here's the thing: last year Sam started to ask questions about Christmas-with-a-capital-C, and this year his inquiries have only gotten more intense. Other times of the year we'll talk about religion and stuff when it comes up, but that's not too often. During the holidays? We probably hear more about Jesus listening to holiday music on the trip to school than we do the rest of the year combined. And that's got him pondering things again. But this year, there's a twist.

In the past year we've covered a lot of ground, religiously speaking. We've talked about the major different world religions, and talked a lot about how it's possible for different people to have different beliefs. We've talked about facts versus faiths, and how just because someone believes something that doesn't make it undeniably true. We've talked about respecting other peoples beliefs, even if they don't jive with our own.

What's getting to Sam this christmas time is the idea that I used to go to church with Nunnie and Pappy and I believed the same things that they did, but now I don't. He wants to know how and when all that happened. I've been pretty frank with him about my beliefs, or lack thereof. He's also been to church enough times with my parents to know that they are pretty serious about theirs. So how do I even begin to explain to a little boy the lengthy, introspective process by which I came to my un-beliefs? And how do I help keep the magic of the holiday season alive and well in our house while also answering his questions honestly?

Perhaps, if I were a different person, this is when I'd start praying.

My Boys, Part 2

I have a real post, or three thousand, locked up inside my head. I hope that tomorrow I actually have six or eight or thirty-seven minutes to write them all down. Fingers crossed!

Yesterday I Envied the Turkey

Wednesday night, at about 10:30pm Lucy started crying. Since she usually sleeps like a rock I ran up to check on her. She was thrashing about and crying about her feet hurting, so we changed her out of footy pajamas into regular ones. While I was changing her I realized that she felt warm, and a quick temp check confirmed that she had a fever. I gave her some motrin, and she fell back to sleep in less than two minutes.

Yesterday morning she was feverish again. She's not prone to sickness, and she doesn't usually get a fever when she is sick, so I was a little perturbed. Her temp was around 102 degrees, so I administered more motrin and we settled in for a movie morning. A few hours later, though, she started shaking all over, and her temp was still rising. We got her to take some tylenol, but she was like a little tinder box. I re-checked her temp around 11:30 and it was 104.4 degrees.

That number freaked me out. None of my kids have ever been so warm. A call to the doctor later and we were on our way to the emergency department.

Nothing in particular seemed to be bothering her. No runny nose, no ear pain, no sore throat, no tummy troubles, nothing. We convinced her to give a urine sample and found out that she once again has a UTI. Previously she had pain and irritation when she peed, but she never said a thing about any pain or burning, so we had no idea.

This morning she's feeling a little better. I kind of didn't want to get out of bed, though.

Turkey and Stuffing, 2011

For a day that began with a trip to the emergency room, I'd say it ended pretty well.

(Here's 2010 and 2009, in case you missed them!)

If I Were a Pumpkin...

My little Lucy has a thing for pumpkins. A serious thing. Every time we're out and she sees some, she wants them for her own. If she spies them at another person's house, she asks if she can have them. If we're at the farmer's market, she wants to buy them. And when I say no, she often finds a way to charm the person selling them into giving her one. Which is how we ended up with SIX pumpkins in our house.

According to her, I am the big orange one, the big green one is daddy, the medium one in the middle is Sam, she is the other medium one, and the two littlest ones are Maggs and Freddie, sized accordingly.

I don't know what we're going to do when they start to rot.

In other news, we went to a hockey game on Monday night. It was no big deal...

Except that it TOTALLY WAS. It was supposed to be me and SOB, my mom and dad, but as soon as we heard that Sidney Crosby was going to be making his season debut, SOB threw out the idea that Sam should go in his place. We forced him to take a nap on Monday afternoon, and he complied, so we piled into my dad's car and headed to Pittsburgh! He had an amazing time, and his excitement was so darling I nearly cried. Plus it was my parents' first time in the new arena, so they were pretty jazzed, too. In fact, my mom did cry!

Our Thanksgiving vacation has been pretty bomb ass so far, and we haven't even gotten to the main event yet. How is it going out there for you, internet friends?

And now I'm off to make some cranberry sauce!

A Whole Host of Randomness

Life has been so wonderfully insane lately, I can't even explain it. So instead, here are some pictures. Feel free to make up your own commentary in the comments!

And finally, the big thing that happened today:

Maggie's Misfortune

About a month ago I posted a tale of sickness. It all started with Sam, and ended with Maggie. Or so we thought. Because for her, it never really ended. Since then we've had some really, truly awful experience both with vomiting and with the contents of her diapers. And that's all the more detailed I really want to get about that, YOU'RE WELCOME.

Last week I took her to the doctor to get some tests done in hopes of figuring out if she had some rare Balkan parasite or something. These tests involved needles, getting a non-potty trained child to pee in a collection basin, and a pleasant afternoon of driving around with a cup of turds in my cup holder. And all for naught, because all the results came back negative. Don't get me wrong now, I'm relieved that there is nothing majorly wrong with her, but did you read the part up there about the turds? In my car? Yeah.

She seemed to be getting better though, so I breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that it had just been a nasty virus and that she was finally over it. Until Tuesday night, when the diapers from hell began again. Seriously, the fumes almost melted my eyelashes off.

After she was in bed, crying about the horrible rash that developed on her tiny hiney within minutes, I sat down to think about what she had to eat that day. Working backwards, she had grilled cheese for dinner, PB&J for lunch and a banana and soy yogurt for breakfast.

LIGHT BULB.

Maggie is the only one of my children I have ever given soy yogurt. She's my pickiest eater, and I try to vary the protein she consumes. However, she also my only child who has more consistent diaper rash and she DEFINITELY pukes more than the other three. None of my kids have ever had a food sensitivity/allergy, so it never even occurred to me that something she was eating might have been making her ill. Since cutting out the soy yogurt she's been seeming well. I'm going to wait a few weeks, try and let her have a little and see what happens. I'm hoping it won't be too tough to avoid if she does appear to be sensitive to it.

Naturally, just last week I bought two big bags of edamame to introduce to the kids. I guess she'll have to stick to peas.

Freddie, Month Eight

Dear Fred-Fred,

I'm sorry for the delay, my sweet boy. You see, there are these two new boys in the family, plus mommy's got a new business going on, and well, time got away from me. I won't let it happen again! I swear! Let's get on with it then, shall we?

You've got this skill all locked up now. Ah, the allure of toys. You are only eight months old! You have no business pulling yourself up! You can barely even sit, so how is it you can now stand?

Alright, I lied. You can sit. The thing is, you rarely do. Since you've been crawling for, um, FOREVER, you are acutely aware that sitting still is much less fun than moving about. Two seconds after I sit you down, you flop onto your side, then belly and then you're off. If I lay down on the floor with you, though, you'll sit and try to eat my hair for as long as I can stand it.

Speaking of eating, all of this increase in activity has given you the appetite of a kid twice your age. You gobble up everything in site. Besides the baby food, which you thoroughly enjoy, you will eat an endless supply of puffs, cheerios and yogurt melts. You've also learned that Maggie doesn't pay much attention to her food. One day she was walking by your high chair with a bowl full of french toast, and she didn't give you a wide enough berth. In no time flat you reached out and swiped her bowl and buried your face in its contents. I've also caught you with PB&J, ritz crackers and some pretzels, all snatched from your sister, no doubt.

You still nurse like a champ, as well, which pleases me to no end. You do this a-dorable thing when you want some milks, as the kids are calling it these days. As soon as you see me, you start suckling on your own tongue, which makes a sweet little clicking sound. Even though it's a soft sound, I can hear it from just about anywhere, and when I scoop you into my arms, you grab me and frantically try to get to the goods as soon as possible. The way you relax and look up at me once the milk is flowing makes me happy beyond words.

It's a little tough to tell, but there are two tiny teeth there on the bottom there that have been threatening to come out for ages now. Part of me wonders if they'll ever erupt. But despite the infinite teething, you are still as pleasant as ever. When we're out I never have a shortage of people telling me that you smile more than any baby they've ever seen, and I don't doubt it. You are, plain and simple, the happiest person I know.

Love, Mama

Ah, Nephews!

Freddie Friday: 11-11-11

He's coming to get you! Maybe he'll drool some good luck on ya!

So Then This Happened

Amy B Photography is up and running! Between this and hockey, I may never have the chance to blog again.

I Know How Sarah Palin Ended Up Crazy

One word: HOCKEY

Last year we signed Sam up with the local ice hockey team. He was a mini-mite and basically it was a year-long learn to skate/play hockey instructional thing, with no real competition. There was practice on Mondays and home "games" every other Saturday. It was a manageable schedule for us, he had a lot of fun and learned some basic skills.

This year at sign ups we kept him at the same level and added Lucy to the roster. Sam had made big improvments from the beginning of last year, but we didn't think he was quite ready for the mites, who play real games against other teams and such. Also, since he hadn't been on the ice since March, we thought his skills may have slipped over the summer.

After only a few short weeks, though, we realized we were wrong.

Plus, many of the kids his age had decided to move up, leaving him a towering giant over the three and four year old mini-mites. He would fall over his own feet and take half a dozen of them down with him. We decided to let him try a practice with the mites, and of course he loved it. So we decided to move him up.

And then we got the schedule. (Cue terrifying music!)

Instead of one night a week, Sam now has practice two nights a week. And one weekend morning a week. And instead of having scrimmages at our home ice every other weekend, he has real games against other teams at rinks far, far away. Every weekend. Oh, and Lucy is still playing on the mini-mites, so she's at the rink one night a week, and every other weekend. Plus we are already scheduled for two tournaments, one Thanksgiving weekend and one between Christmas and New Years.

In case you lost count, we're at an ice rink somewhere in the tri-state area four or five times per week. Even though I kinda knew what we were getting ourselves into, it may make me crazy.

Not crazy enough to shoot animals from a helicopter, but almost.

The first game of the season!

Excuses Times Two

Sorry for my absence these past few days. I have a good excuse, though. Actually, I have two good excuses: my new nephews!

How cute are they??? Here is little twin A:

And here is lovely twin B:

They were born on Tuesday 11/1/11, which is an awesome birthday, no? My sister-in-law carried these boys for 39 weeks, and when they were born they were both over seven and a half pounds! They weighed more than Lucy did when she was born! Nearly sixteen pounds of babies! How amazing is that? Besides being lovely, they are healthy as can be, and should be heading home today.

You can be you're probably going to be seeing lots of photos of these young lads in the coming days, weeks, months and years!