"Me Big Boy!"

Jay has declared himself a big boy. Now, whenever I say he is my little guy, he corrects me with "Me big boy." He really is growing up before our eyes. I'm sure a lot of that comes from being the second child. Rob and I have less time to observe and coach his development. A few weeks ago, when he was playing quietly by himself, he suddenly counted to ten. Rob and I looked at each other in astonishment. On his own, he learned to count! How did we miss that?!

He is also potty training himself. This morning when Cole put on his Spiderman undies, Jay decided to wear his pair. Then Cole showed him his Elmo undies, so Jay put those on as well. I figured a double layer couldn't hurt. He made it all morning without an accident. We sat on the potty four times before we left the house, then I swaddled his booty in a changing pad in the car. Jay wasn't very happy about that, but when Cole said that because he'll have accidents he should use the pad, it was alright. (Thank goodness Cole is a sweet, somewhat mature four-year old, because Jay does whatever he suggests.) We used the potty one more time at school, then I left him in his teachers' care with three extra changes of clothes. I hope they get paid extra for teaching the potty-training age!

I bought the clothes in the pictures for Aunt Dawn's wedding. After the saleslady and I raved about how good Jay looked (Cole was at school), he wanted to wear the outfit for pictures the next day (even though it was over 90 degrees). When we put on the ensemble, Jay looked at himself in the mirror and declared, "Me look sharp!" Cole got hot in his sweater and took it off, so, unfortunately, his head shot looks like a school picture. Both boys were pros at the shoot and we got very few of these faces. Cole acted like he had been modelling his whole life. When we sorted through the pictures, his all looked identical.
Toward the end they both got a little silly, but they remained good sports, especially when we told them there was a Baskin Robbins next door.

Almost a Reason for Number Three

I spent a glorious five days in Los Angeles visiting my sister and brother-in-law's newborn baby girl (oh yeah, I visited them too).

Sophia was 16 days old when I arrived. There was so much I had forgotten about the tiniest of babies: the squeaks and gurgles, the unbelievably soft hair and skin, the unfocused gaze, the diapers no bigger than my palm, and the beautiful smell of new life. I wanted to drink her in.

I became quite nostalgic about the newborn stage, when time is measured, not in days or weeks, but hours. A pinprick of regret lodged in my heart (or maybe my uterus) as I realized the babies I will hold in the future will belong to someone else. I'll never again have a tiny being gaze into my eyes with the complete, unconditional, sweet love reserved only for mothers.

There are so many reasons not to have a third: the terrible 9-month morning sickness I seem prone to; the increased chance of birth defects due to my so-called advanced maternal age; the sleep deprivation and stress; the finances involved (more Rob's concern than mine, but a valid one); and the fact that the boys are getting old enough to consider trips to Disney World and other fun things that would be difficult with a baby.

My rational side knows the list of cons outnumber the pros.

But, perhaps, the beauty of another child trumps all else.

To My Aunts in LA

Dear Aunties in LA,

You should stop making fun of my favorite style--tank tops.

I can so totally pull off the look with my BIG MUSCLES!!


And check out those muscles in action. (Jay has some good muscles too.)

My Birthday Drawing

For my birthday, I asked Cole to draw a picture of us.

His explanation: We have lollipop heads and our sticks are going into the ground so we don't fall over. The dots and border are just designs, while the dots with lines going through them are fireworks. I love it!

His drawings are always very involved and have lots of designs and details. Here is a delivery truck (with packages inside, a headlight, and engine under the cab).

And here's an oldie but goodie from 2006 that I just scanned. In case it is hard to read the caption (it seems Color Wonder markers fade), it is titled "Mommy and Daddy Holding Hands."

The First Day of Preschool

What grown up boys!

Fighting over who gets to open the gate (a daily ritual)

I can't believe summer is over (even though it is still 95 degrees here). The boys started their new school schedule a couple weeks ago. Cole now goes five mornings a week, and Jay goes two.

It has been a hard adjustment for Cole. He hates to lose his free weekday mornings, and I can't blame him. I'm not sure I like him gone every morning. It makes me realize how fast he is growing up. Next year he'll be in full-day kindergarten. I don't know if my heart can take it!

He is also taking Mad Science class after school one day a week (he has decided he wants to be a scientist when he grows up because then he'll know how everything works). He was nervous about the class, but now he loves it. The kids learn a new concept each week (today was how eyes help us see) and get to keep fun toys relevant to the lessons.

Jay has had no trouble adjusting. He's been ready for a regular classroom for years! Last year, he would run into Cole's classroom, sit down at the table, and start whatever project the teachers had laid out. He gets so excited when he realizes it's his day to go. The only downside to his enthusiasm is that he never wants to leave. Quite a few times I've carried him out kicking and screaming!

His teachers have started encouraging him to use the potty. They tell me he tries several times a day by himself. He loves the little stall in the classroom and the small, kid-size potty. All the practice is actually working! Tonight he took off his diaper by himself and went. I'm so thrilled! I can't wait to be completely done with diapers. I shudder to think of the corner of the landfill we have filled with them.

The new school schedule means I have two mornings a week with no kids. Those three hours go by so fast! I plan to use them to exercise, but it's such a struggle. I really want to come home, make a nice pot of coffee, and read a magazine in peace. Hopefully I can get into a good routine.

"Mommy, Stop Taking My Picture!"

Try Not to Laugh

I gave Cole a time-out in my bedroom because I was giving Jay a bath and couldn't leave the area. When the four minutes were over, I found Cole wearing a neglige and a big goofy grin. It was so hard to keep a straight face, but the offense was serious (biting!), so I had to try to retain some composure. If only taking a picture would not have undermined the discipline!

Note to myself: Keep the time-out pillow far away from my pajama drawer!