Halloween Confounded

Halloween has become more than just a day to run amuck on the streets of your neighborhood. As with everything else we have overcomplicated a childhood activity to involve ourselves more in the name of safety and caution. We trade a couple of hours of unsupervised trick or treating for days worth of chaperoned Halloween activities. We overcompensate because we know it is wrong.

There is the pumpkin picking trip, which is less about picking pumpkins and mostly about paying $3 for the corn maze, $5 for the children's adventure area, $1 for a piece of corn and fighting through the crowds to supervise your children who are trying to run amuck. They have karate, dance, gymnastic parties. We take them trick or treating at indoor facilities. We walk them through the neighborhood and crush their exuberance with every neighbor we spend time chatting with, slowing their progress and forcing their disrespect of elders. Afterall, we are the ones out of line, we are the ones who should be gracious. We are in essence tagging along on their "playdate." If we are truly present for their safety and their sake then we need to behave in such a manner and only interfere in their best interest. But of course it becomes about what we want and what we are comfortable with and we have ruined the holiday.

We are always three steps behind and counting to ten; chasing our tails as we try to keep them under control. We are yelling at them to slow down, keep up, stay where I can see you and for God's sake why can't you listen; when the truth is we shouldn't be talking. This is their day and they know it. Somewhere in their DNA the truth of the day has been passed down. The spirit of the day compels their waywardness and they are embracing their right! But instead we keep them safe and Billy will be punished for running off and not listening, Mom will exasperatedly tell how stubborn John was eating too much candy and throwing up and Susie will be chastised for not playing nicely with the neighbor's stupid cousin. "Why are kids so difficult these days?"

"Oh My Gosh"

So the aforementioned phrases that Patrick has been repeating have past.  Now every sentence, remark, question and utterance out of his mouth either starts or ends with, "Oh my gosh!"  Gotta love OCD!   The scariest part of all this is that he is the older brother.  The other two watch him and follow him.  I was speechless today when Tristan asked from the backseat of the car, "I can play Lego Star Wars now because you said I could when I get back from pre-school, is that correct?"

My response in the front seat :0

Colin 9 mos Stats!

So here are his 9 month old stats....

Weight: 23 lbs 88th%

Height: 31 inches 97th%

Head: 18 75%

Tristan weighed 21 lbs at this time and  29 1/4 inches and Patrick was 29 1/2 inches and 22 lbs.

At the doctors he cried and cried and that was before the shot.  He got scared when the doctor put the stethoscope under his arm, maybe it was cold and just started crying and screaming and didn't stop till 25 minutes later when he finally past out in the car.  He was crying so hard and was so mad he honestly did not notice the three shots they put in his leg.  He didn't even flinch. He was so distracted by his own crying and anger.  

Here are his other 9 month old stats: he has three teeth.  Two front lower and upper left.  He is talking up a storm.  "Goo Goo, Ba Ba, Da Da, Bell A, Maaaa Maaaa"  all these are kind of like that of course, not the real deal yet.  He loves to talk and talk and gets louder and louder if no one is responding to him.  He is clapping and will do it appropriately.  He claps when he first sees me, which of course I love.  He claps for the boys and when he is happy.  He scrunches his lil face like he tasted a lemon and closes his eyes tight and squeals and smiles.  He is cruising around in his walker (my favorite thing ever) and now that he has tasted such freedom is much more apt to complain when left in the saucer or anywhere that he is rendered stationary.  Still working on getting him to sleep through the night... he just insists on waking up, usually first around 11 ish and then again in the 2ish range.  He takes big boy baths with Tristan now and he adores the bath.  None of the others loved the bath like him... he could stay in it all day and I try to give him as much time as possible.  He splashes the water real hard with his hands and laughs when the water gets all over his face.  He laughs hysterically at Tristan's crazy 4 year old antics.  We started playing the Baby Santa (baby einstein) DVD and he literally thinks it is hysterical and belly laughs through most parts.  It is the funniest thing to watch.   My absolute favorite, favorite age and I am just trying to saturate myself with him as much as time allows!!!! 

"What do they say, Mommy?"

I bought the boys some of the Little People Christmas collections.  Well, I say I bought the boys, but I really mean I bought it for all of us.   I chose to purchase the Christmas Tree Lighting in Discovery Park, Santa and his Reindeer and the Nativity.  These are collections that I have seen and wanted since Patrick was a toddler.  I never purchased it for many reasons, #1 we never had much extra money, #2 we didn't have a house, so space was always limited, but probably the biggest reason was #3 I was too much of a "green" mother to understand how to use such a collection properly.  I used to think it was just another toy for the kids to play with and therefore was easy for me to pass on.  However, my thinking changed  when I was recalling my favorite Christmas memories.   I remember, how exciting it was when my mother took down the decorations.  We were very excited, because of course it meant Christmas was on its way, but it was also so exciting to rediscover the treasures that were in those boxes.  They had that distinct attic dusty smell and we were so young that it seemed like so much time had past since we'd last seen what was inside.  One of  my absolute favorites was, an ice-skating rink that we placed under the Christmas tree.  It was a plastic decoration with silver, shiny paper placed on top to make for the rink.  There were the figures that we had to take from their boxes and set some up at the rink and some sitting on the benches.  I loved playing under the tree with this decoration and was only slightly frustrated by the constant pine needles falling on the rink, distorting the fantasy. Another favorite was a plastic decoration of Santa driving his reindeer on the sled.  My sister and I would fly the red and white sleigh, with the reindeer around the house and reenact Santa's process of loading the sleigh and taking flight.  Finally, my other absolute favorite was the Nativity.  My mother painstakingly wrapped each figurine the Christmas before back in its designated newspaper to protect each piece in storage.  Amazingly, I think only Joseph ever became fragmented and glued back together.  (Which; I am only able to admire now that I am the keeper of my own Christmas decorations and will admit to dozens of fragments and mutilations of all kinds to my decorations and I have only had this job 9 years. )   My mother let us play with all of these decorations, but they were, after all meant to be decorations and not toys, so things would fall off, or not stand up the way I wanted to play with it, etc. etc.  So that leads me to my newest acquisition.  What I hope will become my family heirloom.  Yes it is Fisher Price and yes it is Little People.  But I hope my boys will enjoy playing with these "decorations" that I will take out every Christmas.  And, of course, when they are too old to "play", I will continue to take them out and be reminded of their Childhood Christmas pasts.  If the universe is really good to me, my boys will go on to have their own children and then I can pass one down to each of their first-borns.  It was not until I was a mother who traveled enough "maternal distance" (I will call it)  that I could imagine  such a future.  Now that I foresee a different and greater potential for these items, they became worth so much more and seemed priceless.   I quickly purchased those 3 different sets that remind me so much of my own childhood Christmas.  

I took out two of the collections today and Tristan quickly took to the Santa with his reindeer.  After playing with it most of the day he asks me, "What do they say?"  

"What does who say," I asked?  

"Reindeer.  What sound do they make?"

"Well, they uh...

I don't know..."

I guess my maternal distance has not traveled far enough to have seen that coming and been prepared.  I'm sure I will have a well thought out answer for when Colin asks such a question.

Two Mommies

TJ: "I'm making two of you mommy."

ME: "What?"

"I'm making two of you."

"Two Mommies," I ask?

"When I do like this with my eyes, I make two of you."

"Oh really.  Do you like to do that?"

"When I do like this I can make two of everything."

At the Train Tracks

There is no other place that I can actually feel the metamorphosis that has occurred since I have become a mom.  I used to moan and throw my hands up with impatience when the crossings would deploy seconds before I made it through.  Now, I consider the "Gods in our Favor" if they come down before we cross, giving us the best seats in the house to watch the train go past.  "Here comes the train," I yell back to the boys, as I roll down every window no matter the season, so that we can hear the dinging and listen for the train whistle.  Having this last minute position also provides the back view of the train.  As the crossings lift and we ride over the tracks the boys look after the train and see it rolling away.  When I manage to be out in the car alone, I find myself excited to get stuck by the train and even begin to roll down the windows for that brief second before I remember that I am alone.  It is in that moment of reality that I can almost touch the wave of emotions that will roll over me when the boys are grown and I will forever sit at the train tracks alone.  It is this moment that it occurs to me I may never be able to let them go!

"I have one day left..."

Tristan says, "I have one day left."  I ask,  "One day left till your birthday?"  "No," he says, "this is my last day of being three."  I guess it is the same thing, but puts an entirely different spin on it.

There was a lot of confusion for TJ this year regarding his birthday.  We celebrated with friends and family in October because we combined his party with Patrick's.  So, November 13th was his "real birthday."  He told his teacher and everyone he could, "Today is my real birthday."  Which implies he has fake birthdays.  He believed he would be different on this day because he would now be 4.  On this last day of being three he spoke of all the things he would now do once the day turned and he was 4.  He would begin swimming underwater, he would do karate like Patrick, he would also not be scared of a list of several things.  After telling me how life would be so much different for him as a 4 year old, he paused and had his faraway, thinking look on and said, "I really like being 3.  3 is fun!"  I had to reassure him that 4 would be fun too and not to worry.  When he woke up on his first day of being 4 he said, "I still need swimmies in the pool and I don't want to put my head all the way under the water.  I still don't like the dark and I like my night light.  I'm not going to start karate until next year.  I guess 4 will be a lot like 3."