Pictures at random

Anna loves Jack

Sisterly love takes on a whole new perspective when you get Anna into the mix. She adores Jack. She can't get enough, which sort of leads to some problems around here. Well, not problems exactly, just... effusiveness. She exists perpetually within 3 inches of his face, with his hands and feet and anything else she can get grasped gently (mostly) in her hands. She gives him his pacifier even when he is in no need of pacification. We've had to try and establish rules of distance and personal space.

It mostly doesn't work. Anna LOVES her Jack.

(Silvia loves her Jack, too, but she's a tad more interested in Jack's toys, blankets, paci's and various cute noises. She finds his diaper changes fascinating, mostly so she can get into his onesie drawer and pick out a new shirt for him if needed. Beyond that, she's happy to just play with her own baby doll-- for now.)

Cuteness

 

 

 

He's here!

Jack Stephen was born last Sunday, the 18th, at 6:52 P.M., weighing 7 pounds, 4 ounces. It was a tiring day but ultimately a very fast and furious labor and delivery. I'm very happy to say that Kurt and I were able to have the birth experience we'd hoped for, though of course it was nothing I could have imagined beforehand. We spent most of the day at home together in what was an incredibly emotional and intimate experience we'll never forget, only heading to the hospital a little more than an hour before Jack was born. In fact, the midwife told us that had we waited any longer, it's very likely Kurt could have been delivering him for me on the side of the road! Thank goodness, it all worked out perfectly.

Jack is a dream, a beautiful, perfect little miniature person. His sisters love him to pieces, almost literally, as they spend so much time holding his little hands and smothering him with kisses and petting. They're adjusting fairly well, I think, though of course we've had a big increase in attention-seeking, whining and sibling arguments. Hopefully, that will all smooth out over the next couple weeks. (fingers so so so crossed!)

Kurt is home from work with us for this week and the next and we've pretty much retreated into a little family huddle just trying to get things calmed down around here. But we're happy even in the midst of the mayhem and couldn't possibly be more in love with this little boy! So, welcome Jack! We love you!

Anna loves me, this I know

Every afternoon these days, after Silvia goes down for her nap, I find myself barely conscious on the family room couch. I try not to give in to it, but I'm just tired, y'all, what can I say?

Anna, my amazing little 5-year-old daughter, totally understands. She pats me on the shoulder, kisses my head and lays little soft hugs on me. Then she says, "You have a nice rest, Mommy," and heads off to the playroom to finish up some coloring and read quietly for the hour or so it takes before I can face the conscious world again.

Sometimes she'll come and have me tear out a picture for her or help her get a snack if she can't reach something, but mostly, she just plays quietly, tiptoes around and stops by to drop the occasional kiss against my hair.

I am the luckiest mother in the world.

Looks can be deceiving

Yesterday, Anna stationed herself on the front porch with her big bin of crayons and several coloring pages. While Kurt worked on the front lawn (and I hid inside with the A/C preventing late-pregnancy heat sickness), she doodled away at her various masterpieces.

Then Silvia woke up, the girls discovered Daddy was messing with all the sprinkler heads and the coloring was forgotten in the resulting water play. When Anna came back to her crayons about 6 hours later, looking to draw some American flags for the 4th of July, she discovered a bin of goo with little bits of crayon wrappers stuck throughout. The colors had all melted together in the hot afternoon sun.

At first, devastation. Oh, no! My crayons! My vehicle to the world of art and self-expression! Melted, lost, destroyed! And then... hmmm. That melty puddle right there doesn't look like a crayon.

That part looks like chocolate!

Yes, my 5-year-old daughter, for all her brains and panache, took a big scoop of melted brown crayon on her finger and popped it in her mouth. Sweet chocolately goodness it was NOT.

She came inside, carrying the bin, making "ew, gross" faces and dragging her tongue across her sleeve. She looked up at me with a slight expression of betrayal, as if I had somehow tricked her into eating colored wax. Then she ran upstairs to brush her teeth... for about 20 minutes.

Later that night, as the girls gobbled up fresh, juicy cherries for dessert, Anna stated, "My crayons all melted today and I tasted one and chocolate crayons are NOT GOOD. Cherries are way better!".

Lesson learned: Everything in moderation... and context. If it's surrounded by inedibles, don't risk it!

Good Horsie!

Nursery in progress and Silvia, just because

Middle of the night

Her cry at 2 A.M. is so different from her cries during the day. Anna normally is a real screamer in full glory. Her wails start in low as she puts some air behind it and then, WHAM!, she's got a heartbreaker pouring out.

At night though, when she's half-asleep, scared, and groggy, it's a whimper. A sad, rolling moan of a cry, it is totally unique to my daughter. There's no way I'd every, even woken from a deep sleep, mistake that sound for any other child.

Anna has nightmares. Sometimes I'd go so far as to call them night terrors, but mostly they are just aimless fears she doesn't remember upon opening her eyes, lingering only in a gut reaction against the shadows in the dark. She's been having them less and less lately, but last night they came back in full force.

At the first sound I always pop up out of bed, a reflex born from years of mom conditioning. Or, at least, I used to pop out of bed. Now I start to pop up, groan, then slowly lower my legs off the side of the mattress and sit for a few seconds until standing becomes a possibility. Kurt usually doesn't hear anything, so I give him a nasty look (it's not his fault, though, it's a chromosomal inadequacy of male hearing, poor guy), then waddle my way to her room.

And here's the other hurdle now. It's not just her room anymore. As she cries and gains volume, Silvia is sleeping right underneath her in the bunkbed. I stumble into the room, whisper, "Shhhhh, shhh, baby, it's ok, you need to be quiet, you'll wake Silvia...", go forward to pat her head, and lay my arm across her shoulders (remember, she's on the top bunk).

Then it hits me. I realize this is too much detail for some (Hi, Grandpa Bloom!!), so I will be brief. I have to use the bathroom. Immediately. The baby has settled in from my short walk down the hall and I have to go RIGHT NOW.

Poor Anna. She's in a foggy haze of fear and mommy's hopping around trying to soothe her while apologizing for having to run frantically from the room. "I'll be right back, I'll be fast, it's okay just... oh, please, wait!". Once that's all resolved, I return and cuddle Anna's head. I used to lay down next to her, but there's no chance of me climbing up top these days. The good thing is, she always calms down right away once I get there. The bad thing is, she needs me to stay until she falls asleep or the moaning cries start back up.

So from about 2:30 until 3:15 A.M. this morning, I rocked in the girls' chair while Anna drifted back off. Sitting in the glow from the nightlight, I was hit with a wave of nostalgia. How many other nights did I sit in this chair, rocking with my children while the rest of the world slept? How many more nights do I now have to come?

As exhausted as I am today, there is still a certain satisfaction that comes from those private moments. My child, me and a quiet world wrapped in night. Tired? Yes. But very lucky, too.

Touch the sky

We went up to Breckenridge a week or so ago and they had up some fun bouncy stuff for the kids. Anna volunteered for the bungie jump, much to my surprise. I was sure she'd be terrified but... no. My little adventurer drew a crowd from all her gleeful screams and laughter.

I, of course, forgot my camera, but Opa caught it all!

Bunkbeds!!

And now they share a room. It's been a rocky start, but we're hoping by a month or so they'll have settled down and bedtime will no longer take an hour and half. But still, yay! Bunkbeds!

"Anna wil mary adin"

Good God.

Yesterday during quiet time (Oh, how I love thee, quiet time), I found Anna peacefully coloring a lovely, rainbow-y picture at her table. It looked like two people holding hands, with words across the top I couldn't quite decipher.

"What's your picture, hon?", I asked innocently.

"Me and Aidan," she announced with a cheery grin.

I leaned over to take a closer look and found, scrawled across the top of the page, "Anna wil mary Adin".

Gulp.

"Aidan from school? You like him?"

"Yes, he's my friend. Except he won't play with me, he only plays with the other boys but we're going to ride bikes together tomorrow and I'm going to give him this picture!"

Double gulp.

"No. No, sweetie... let's leave the picture here, ok? You can ride bikes and talk to him first."

"Why, mommy?"

"Well, sweetie. Hmm. Then you can marry him when he least expects it. Everyone loves a good surprise."

Anna's Graduation

I used to always discreetly roll my eyes when people talked about their kids "graduating" from preschool. But that's one of those parenting things you learn as you go along-- don't knock it til you've been there. When they played a country song called, "Let Them Be Little" while showing slides of all the kids as babies and then as five-year-olds... yup. I got all misty. My big girl!

Next thing? I have to survive her first day of kindegarten. Lord help me.

My favorite faces

The pile, on its way out

My thanks, in hard copy. You'll notice on the bottom several sheets of construction paper, too. These are letters and pictures Anna has done for her uncles which I promised to send. Sorry, Anna. Sorry, uncles. It's the thought that counts!!

Thank you... and you... and YOU!

On the corner of my desk is an ever-growing pile of cards. Most of them are sealed in envelopes and addressed, awaiting a zip code or, most likely, a stamp. Some have cards tucked into the fold of the envelope and are yet to be written, with a sticky note inside saying "new books" or "pretty dress" or some such thing. The pile has been shuffled, moved, dusted, put away and even transferred to the keyboard of my laptop in an attempt at motivation through line of sight.

With each event that takes place in our lives, I find myself pulling out fresh thank you cards. You see, I really WANT to express, personally, my gratitude. For all the books on Anna's birthday, for the fancy dress that Silvia wears at least twice a week no matter what, for the Christmas presents that the girls are still getting giggles from... I want to write beautiful notes in pretty cards. I want to imagine someone smiling to open their mailbox and receive, instead of junk and bills, a personal letter from me.

But the pile only grows. And grows. AND GROWS. Now, I just tell people about their card, just so they know I haven't forgotten. A few friends have several cards in the pile and each time I add a new one, I let that person know. As if the existence of the written note is almost as good as actually getting to see it?

This weekend some friends are toasting me with a baby shower and I just KNOW the thank-you note pile is going to fail me like never before. Already I have received loving thoughts and wonderful tokens to celebrate this upcoming birth and I am hopeless at ever being able to write, stamp and post my appreciation.

So here it is. I'm giving up, just a little bit. Perhaps a clean slate will leave me with room to start a NEW, evolving pile of timely missives.

Dear Grandmas and Grandpas, school friends, playgroup friends, old friends and new friends. Dear thoughtful aunts and cousins, loving sisters (in-law and otherwise) and hilarious brothers.

Thank you. Thank you for the gifts, the Christmas toys, the clothes and dress-up toys for my ever-so-girly girls, the books that have taught Anna to read and allowed Silvia to channel her energy in creative play. Thank you for my own birthday presents, from unexpected Starbucks treats (and the sincere notes of friendship that came with them) to Buffy comic books that only a truly wonderful and old friend would know hits the spot in a perfect way. Thank you for beautiful jewelry that makes me smile (or will, when my fingers shrink back down and I can wear it).

Thank you, too, to the family I see only rarely but that never forgets birthdays and always sends a note of love at the exact time I can use it most. Thank you Grandma and Grandpa Bloom, specifically, for the priceless gift you send each year of a night out with my husband in the form of a handy envelope of cash. We always use it for dinner and a movie and we ALWAYS toast you in the course of the evening.

Speaking of nights out, thank you to my mom and Terry and Opa for all the childcare we've received. I know lots of people without family around who haven't spent any time alone with their spouse in too long and we're always grateful that you give us that opportunity.

It's a cop out and not so personal, but really, everyone (and that for sure means YOU!), thank you. Your generosity makes my family happier, brighter and better. Every gesture, big or small, is really important and does not go without notice over here.

And if you do happen to ever receive a card from me, please don't be surprised to find it's dated three or more years in the past. It just means I'm starting at the bottom and working my way up!

With Much Love,

Megan (and Kurt, Anna and Silvia, though they never write much)

Happy Mother's Day!

Look at those beautiful girls! As a mother and wife, I've scored the jackpot. Hope all you other moms out there are having a wonderful day, too. You deserve it. (photo courtesy of Trystan Photography, of course.)

About Baby

I haven't spent much time writing about this pregnancy, so I figured I'd give a little update. Things just seem too busy around here all the time to really sit down and think about our impending five-some!

I'm 29 weeks down, 11 to go (give or take however much time the kid decides works for him/her). And speaking of him or her, we've stuck to our decision not to find out what we're having. Now that the end is approaching, I have to admit there's part of me that wouldn't mind knowing just to help me feel a little more in control of our preparations. But mostly the mystery is fun!

The baby is totally healthy so far as our midwife and diagnostics can tell. If we go by movements alone, it's definitely strong and hearty. Most nights around bedtime I am subjected to serious internal rearrangements, often to the point of real discomfort. Last night, after a minute or so of nearly-painful shifting, it was apparent that the little one had completely flipped over. Up next to my ribs we could actually feel its back pressed against my skin with the heartbeat bouncing against our fingers. The shape of my belly even looks different this morning, believe it or not!

Anna is open to a brother or sister. She's more interested in the baby itself-- how small it will be, how much hair it will (or won't) have, how she'll hold it and all the help she's determined to offer. For instance, she keeps saying that when the baby cries at night she's going to come and take care of it. Riiiight. We'll see how well that one works out!

Silvia, on the other hand, is having a baby sister. She is. There is no other possibility and she corrects everyone in case they might erroneously refer to the baby as a he. She's very excited, too, though. A couple friends recently had babies and she goes nuts with giggles and happiness every time she seems them.

As for ME, well, I've gotten over the shock of it all, too. I'm excited to meet this little person, boy or girl. This pregnancy hasn't been the same as my other two, though. I'm more tired and have a lot more discomfort, just aches and joint pains. My midwife has helpfully reminded me that I am "older and more stretched out" this time, which makes the stresses a little more noticeable on my body. Thanks! That makes me feel WAY better!

Speaking of midwife, we've decided to take a different route with this, our LAST (REALLY!)birth and delivery. From past experiences, I know how much I hate interventions at the hospital, as well as having outside distractions of people popping in and out all the time and the doctor showing up for about 30 minutes of the whole thing. So this time around we'll have a midwife supporting our wishes and privacy. Our goal is to keep the experience very intimate between the two of us and as "natural" as possible. That's not to say I'm not open to all possibilities, of course. I know how things can change at a moment and not follow any textbook ever written. But, hey, the new hospital is fantastic and comes with private rooms and even jetted tubs for labor, gotta give that a try!

Now that the countdown is rolling downhill, Kurt and I have both had some moments of nerves and panic about how much everything is going to change. All our routines with the girls, our day-to-day pace and decisions, our roles and responsibilities-- it's all up for an overhaul. EEEK. But we're an awesome team and have gotten through our share of upheavals before, so in the bad moments I remind myself of this family's resilience. The girls are old enough to be helpers, too, so I'm looking forward to milking that for all it's worth-- at least until they get tired of it!

Besides which, as hard as this could be, you can't argue with the upside, too. Baby Baby Baby!

Next week we've got our just-for-fun 3D ultrasound, so I'll post pictures if we come up with anything normal looking.

Florida vacation pictures!

Here's us living it up at Clearwater Beach, just outside Tampa. There aren't as many pictures as you'd think, but we spent more time just enjoying the moments then we did looking through the camera lens. There's a whole evening of watching wild dolphins play in the Gulf that's completely missing from this montage, but it's still very clear in my head-- especially Anna's delighted shrieks and Silvia getting confused and staring in the opposite direction.

Enjoy! We sure did.

The things they say

Catching butterflies and playing dress-up, all at once. Multi-taskers!


Making pretzels with Kurt over the weekend. They came out great, but the baking was the best part!


I've been so enjoying the girls lately. Recently they were in a REALLY difficult sibling stage, full of whining, constant crying, wrestling and generally doing their best to abuse each other AND me. I felt terrible and drained and overwhelmed and helpless and every other word you can think of to describe the total powerlessness that parenthood sometimes serves up.

And then it stopped.

Just... stopped. Cuteness reigns supreme. Talk of the baby is everywhere. Anna is determined to get up in the night and rock the baby back to sleep "if" it wakes up and cries. Silvia tells everyone that her little sister (because no way will she consider we might have a boy) will be here soon and Mama will feed her mommy milk from my "nibbles" (by the way, I've tried to get her to STOP telling people this, but since it makes Kurt laugh and snort his coffee, she won't). All the stuffed animals go through speedy pregnancies every day, complaining about their backs and needing naps.

On top of that, Silvia cannot stop talking. I remember this stage with Anna, where everything was a running monologue ALL DAY LONG. Not that she's stopped, mind you, but the flow of words has slowed down some and she even sits quietly for long moments, reading her books.

Now it's Silvia's turn and, boy oh boy, has she embraced the moment! All through every meal, all day playing, on the potty, during stories-- every minute seems filled with her observations. She's delighting in rhymes right now, making up silly words to go with whatever she's saying.

"Can I have that book-dook, Anna?"

"It's time to take a bath-dath-math!!"

All these things, of course, send her into hysterical giggles at which point Anna also collapses. Because, you know, there's nothing more contagious than giggles. And I tell ya, having the house filled with screaming laughter most of the day is WAY better than shaking down with screaming tantrums.

Last night we were watching a thing on the History Channel about how the Earth was formed. They like all the space pictures and get all gasp-y and excited at the shots of a volcano-covered planet. During one of those scenes, Silvia started talking rapidly about olives. Olives?

"And the volcanoes are full of olives and they come out and are hot all over the world and make the planet! Look at all that olives!!".

Anna got up and went to the TV, really scanning the screen for olives, totally confused. Then I figured it out.

"Lava? Do you mean lava, honey?" I asked. She nodded vigorously.

"Yeah. Olives!!"

Fresh air in February

Anna's enjoying a little snow sketching.

Here's Silvia planting a "blue seed" (not sure what it was, hope it wasn't expensive) in our frozen flower pots.

Anna tormenting, oops, I mean visiting our next door neighbor's dogs.

Birthday fun, birthdays done!!

Well, the weekend of birthdays has been and gone. Silvia's third was on Friday, kicked off with a great family dinner and present extravaganza plus VERY FANCY CAKE. Since for the time being Kurt is doomed to share some of his own festivities (his big day is the 7th, two days after Silvia's) with his as-yet youngest child, I splurged (and we're talking SPLURGED here, people) on a gourmet Black Forest cake from a local bakery. It's his favorite and no one else seemed to have any complaints.

We followed up the family shindig with a morning play party Saturday at Lil Biggs with a few of her favorite 2- and 3-year-old friends. It was a blast and guess what? More cake!! In the great tradition of my girls' parties, Silvia cried for about (at least) half the party, mostly from wanting to play with everything at the same time. I have to admit, despite some inconveniences, it's a great play place for kids with a bounce house, all kinds of video and token games and a big play area with dress-up, toys, climbing and a sandbox. We've got a cup of leftover tokens and I plan on spending a few snow days playing there in the near future.

For Kurt, his big present was a night off. He's been working like a madman lately, with nary a moment to catch his breath, much less sleep, eat or look out the window. The girls spent Saturday night at my mom's indulging in waffles for dinner and snuggling up together in the guest room's big bed for the night.

While they enjoyed the luxury of grandma's house, Kurt and I enjoyed the luxury of our own home-- all to ourselves. We had a wonderful dinner at our favorite restaurant, Edelweiss, and then bolted home to curl up in jammies in front of the big TV for a long-postponed dive into our neglected Netflix collection. We got to sleep until TEN IN THE MORNING, totally unheard of in this household. I mean, seriously, I think the last time I slept until 1o was when Anna was a newborn. We'd be up all night long with her tears and colic and then finally crash out around 7 A.M. just as Kurt left for work. So really, that probably doesn't even count.

We finished off the mini-vacation with a lazy breakfast of cappuccinos and croissants at La Baguette-- and then Kurt headed back down to his office to catch up on the work he'd missed while taking a birthday break. Still, he looked practically rested as he headed out this morning, even after staying up until 2 A.M. working, so I call the time off a complete success.

Now with our big February festivities behind us, all that's left to do is sort and purge some toys to make room for the new loot and then... enjoy the snow, the winter and each other!

P.S. I'm extra proud of Anna, too! She handled all Silvia's attention and gifts with grace and maturity, with the exception of one toy (a stuffed animal cat) that she really wants for her very own. But after 48 hours, Silvia's fascination with it has mostly waned and she even let Anna sleep with it last night. So that worked out, too.

Silvia's 3rd Birthday

It's in there!

So, for those of you who don't know, we're (SURPRISE!) having another baby. I'm due this summer, mid-July, though it's hard to pinpoint an accurate date since we're not totally sure when I got pregnant. I'm guessing more towards the end of the month. I'll leave out the gory details, but the moment of actual conception is a bit foggy since I was on the Pill at the time. Let that be a lesson to you, young readers! You know who you are.

It was a shock, for sure. Kurt and I took some time, like several months, to get used to the idea. There were some tears. But it's starting to settle in and each appointment we have to check up on things helps me settle down to the reality more and more.

Besides, yay! I get a new car. It may be a minivan, but I'm totally insisting on heated seats this time. As a mom of three (THREE! EEEK!), I think I deserve it.

Anywhoo... we had the 4 month check-up yesterday, and yup, there's definitely a baby in there! The midwife (I'm skipping the OB this time around. I figure this is my last chance to try something new) ran the Doppler across my belly and right away caught the strong beat of a heart that WAS NOT MINE. It's funny, but I never get used to that. There's something ALIVE in there! It still feels sort of like alien invasion. But, you know, in a good way.

Baby is healthy and so am I. As this is my third time around, all my symptoms and signs have popped up (get it? popped? haha!) much sooner. I'm bigger earlier, already having trouble sleeping and generally feeling a little slower on the uptake. Of course, that could be from chasing two little nuclear generators around all day.

I've decided that if we could only harness their power output somehow, we could save THOUSANDS off our electric bill. I'm working on it, but they don't really like all the electrodes I keep trying to stick to their heads.

So that's what's new around here, chez Schwartz. Soon we will be Five. I'll have to change the name of the blog. And that will be it, as our family planning will become... permanent following this child.

Kurt is SO excited for that. I promised to buy him an ice pack.

"And then it EXPLODED, Mom!"

It's not my fault. These things happen, just about everyone's done it at some point. The problem is, I happened to slip up whilst my jumpy 5-year-old daughter was sitting right in front of the... incident.

After much debate last night, the girls agreed to PB&J for dinner. I had tried for pizza and salad but it was no dice. The last dregs of the peanut butter were a little too cold and hard for spreading, so I popped the jar into the microwave for 15 seconds to soften it up.

Oops.

Turns out, a bit of the foil seal was still hanging onto the edge on the rim. The whole thing let off a LOUD static-like pop and flames shot up from the jar and filled the microwave. Did I mention it was loud?

I hit the roof in a Matrix-like spin and beat at the off button until everything instantly went back to quiet peanut butter peacefulness, though a tad smokey.

Anna however, started screaming, threw herself out of her chair and ran in blind hysterics out of the room, tripping over chairs and couches on her way to safety. Her terror set off Silvia (who I don't think even saw the event). I spent the next half hour on the couch with the girls velcro-ed to me, shrieking. As soon as I'd get Anna on the verge of calm, she'd say, "I want DAAAAAADDY to come home!!!", and then start wailing again. Kurt's on a business trip so the poor kid had to settle for mom to rescue her from the exploding peanut butter.

In case you feel I have not described this story in enough graphic detail or captured the complete horror that enveloped my daughter... just wait. Anna will be HAPPY to tell you about it. Every few minutes. For the rest of her life. Just in case you didn't understand the first time.

On the bright side, I'm hoping this will replace the story of how I forgot to buckle her car seat THREE YEARS AGO and she fell out and bruised her hips. I don't think I deserve to have both stories trotted out every few days. One example of how much I've failed her is plenty, don't you think?

And the peanut butter is fine. A little singed around the edges, but otherwise still quite tasty.

Early Riser

Yesterday both the girls teachers at preschool pulled me aside to say they were concerned. Seems Anna asked to lay down several times during the morning and Silvia was very quiet, shy and withdrawn all day. They didn't have fevers or seem sick, but the change in their temperments was enough to stand out.

It got me thinking. Anna's been WILLINGLY taking a two-hour nap with me in the afternoon while Silvia goes down. And Silvia's nap has been very deep, with nary a word of protest. They're still going to sleep at 8 P.M. as usual, so where was the disconnect?

Then I remembered that they've been getting up together in the morning, playing for a bit before coming to get Kurt and me. Looking back now, I can see that these morning meetings have been getting earlier and earlier. Yesterday I heard a door close loudly at 6 A.M. and when I investigated, I found the two of them sitting up in Anna's bed, playing with flashlights in the dark.

"Mama, Cici came into my room. AGAIN," Anna said with resignation.

Ah-HA!

So last night I informed the culprit that she was to leave Anna alone and when she woke up in the morning she could come lay down with me if she wanted to. Want to know what time she's been getting up?

4 A.M.

FOUR in the frickin' morning.

No wonder Anna's been in a stupor! Having a little whirlwind crawl in bed with you and start talking non-stop before the sun has even considered coming will take the mickey out of anyone!

While having a nearly-three-year-old in bed wasn't exactly restful for me, either, at least she stayed quiet and actually fell back asleep. Guess I'm not as entertaining as her big sister. But now that I've got her leaving Anna alone in the wee hours, I'm stuck with the task of getting her out of MY room.

Any ideas for getting her to sleep til 6? Besides drugging her?

Toot Toot

Silvia has been staying dry for naps lately and I always make a big deal about it to keep that train a-movin'. Today:

Me: "Wow! Cici, are you dry? Did you stay dry for your whole nap?"

Silvia: "Yeah, I did! There's just toots in my bed."

Hey, as long as I don't have to change the sheets, then toots are just fine with me!