Tooth Fairy Tales

I took Celia to the dentist for the first time today, and she cried and only got half of her teeth cleaned.  She stayed and watched the hygienist torture her mother for another half hour after that.  Apparently, they have all kinds of new high-tech tools since I last visited a year ago.  One of them shoots water onto your teeth and gums at a speed that I'm quite sure would remove paint from my car.  I hoped that Celia didn't notice me clenching my hands together ever more tightly as the sweet, young hygienist educated my daughter all about oral health.  I totally appreciated the way she took the time to teach her so much and to just entertain her by asking her questions about her brothers, pet, favorite color, and other inane things that five year olds enjoy sharing.  But I kept thinking, "Does this 12 year old know what she's doing?  Is she looking at my cute little girl or at my gums which feel like they've been tazed?  Should I tell her that I have a high tolerance for pain, but she's pushing the limits or should I endure quietly so as not to give my already frightened daughter more fuel for not returning to the dentist than she already has?"  I opted to tough it out, offer it up, and hope that Celia would think that Mr. Thirsty looked super awesome draped over my right cheek slurping up my drool.

I was so pleased yesterday that I had finally gotten Celia feeling comfortable about going to the dentist.  All she had to do was let the nice lady brush her teeth and let the dentist count them.  We'd read the Dora book over and over.  She knew the names of all of the tools.  She was set.  Oh, and the treasure box was a lovely bit of motivation that our lovely dentist's office has built in.  But something happened when she sat down in that moving chair.  She panicked.  Her tiny little body, wrapped in stripy leggings, cute red sunglasses propped up on her nose so the light wouldn't be too bright in her eyes, she just cracked.  We talked her into letting the nice lady brush one tooth, but that toothbrush didn't look anything like her awesome Barbie light-up brush at home.  And the bubble gum toothpaste?  Not a big selling point for a little girl who has never been allowed to chew gum because...um...duh..it's BAD FOR YOUR TEETH!  She was scared to death of the bubble gum toothpaste.  But she overcame her fear for a moment while the hygienist polished her bottom teeth.  Then Mr. Thirsty came out.  Mr. Thirsty...cute name, right?  That's what my dentist called it when I was little.  This sweet hygienist...who is 12, I'm sure of it...called it Mr. Suction.  Really?  REALLY?  Not so friendly.  It wouldn't have mattered.  She was already climbing out of the chair, which was tricky to do, since she was on top of me.  That's right...I was lying there under her for all of this nonsense.  Where were my super cool sunglasses?  That light IS bright!  Anyway, after lots of reassurances and more tears, we abandoned all hope that her top teeth would be polished this trip.  She was way too upset. The dentist was fantastic, just using his eyes to count her teeth.  She was OK with that.  He even managed to put the little mirror into her mouth to see the top ones.  He was so gentle and kind.  He reported that he saw no cavities.  I guess he could tell by just looking. And 99 bucks later, she has a half clean mouth and a new toothbrush.

So, my question is, how do I convince her to go back in six months and not be freaked out?  I mean, she knows what they're going to do.  And holy cow...if she ever has a cavity, I can't tell her that it's not going to be scary or hurt at all.  Getting a filling freaks my freak, too!  There are so many things that she's scared of that are really just silly.  I can get her past being nervous about a scary guy in a movie.  "It's just an actor in make-up.  Just pretend.  No, he's not in the world."  But then she follows up with questions like, "Are there real bad guys in the world?"  And so I have to tell the truth, right?  The truth will set you free?  Honesty is the best policy.  What a tangled web and all that.  But I can give her the truth with a spoonful of mommy love and reassurance, right?  "Yes, there are some people in the world who do bad things, but you are very safe in this house.  You have nothing to worry about here.  Mommy and Daddy will keep you safe."  And she smiles sweetly and relaxes into my arms.

But what about this whole growing up business?  She has to get shots sometimes.  And she'll have to go back to the dentist who now uses a pressure washer on people's gums!  And she'll have to endure mean girls at school one day.  And one day someone she loves will get terribly sick.  I'm so very in love with all three of my babies.  The thought of them being scared or hurt just devastates me.  But that's part of my job now, isn't it?  It's my job not to avoid those times but to coach them through those moments.  Not to excuse them from participating but teaching them to patiently endure for the good outcome on the other side of it. 

"More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope."  (Romans 5:3-4)  I want my children to be people of good character, people with hope.  And I am pretty sure that doesn't happen without overcoming adversity first.  The dentist's chair is just one step in a lifetime of tough obstacles to overcome, both for Celia and her mama.  But with God's help, we'll learn together to brave the scary dental tools...and the mean girls in school...and whatever else life has in store for us.  I'll tell ya, that girl is quite the character already, but I can't wait to see what kind of amazing woman of character she becomes.  Even if she is a woman of character with some pretty scuzzy teeth.

Knock Knock...Doo Da?!

Celia and Mikey have discovered the wonderful world of knock-knock jokes.  God help us all.  I made the mistake of teaching them the Interrupting Cow joke one day.  You know, "Knock, knock.  Who's there?  Interrupting cow.  Interrupting cow...MOOOO!"  They finally got the comic timing down on that one, so it's actually funny...to someone hearing it for the first time.  For a long time, Mikey would just moo after someone said, "Interrupting cow who?"  And that was just confusing.  Anyway, they sometimes shake it up by being an interruping duck, cat, or zebra (also confusing).  But what they really like to do (and this is no surprise to anyone with preschoolers) is make up jokes that make no sense.  They laugh at themselves like they should have their own late-night show or something, while I stand by shaking my head and trying to muster a fake guffaw.  Even Mikey has started imitating my fake laugh after jokes.  Now, THAT's funny!  The nonsense jokes often go something like, "Knock knock.  Who's there?  Car.  Car who?  Car on your head that fell in the cereal and landed on the floor and then poo pooed!"  You see my problem.

Anyway, a truly hilarious side effect of all of these horrible jokes is that Xavier is actually starting to mimic them.  To this point, at 11 months, he really just babbles a bit, saying, "Mamama" when he's upset and "Dadadada" when he's happy.  Yeah, that's right.  That's the thanks I get for changing 99% of his diapers.  Sigh.  Anyway, it's cute and sweet.  But back to the jokes.  Celia and Mikey probably say, "Knock knock.  Who's there?"  more than anything said in this house except maybe, "Mooooom, it's MY turn!"  So, Xavier has started picking up on it.  When the big kids say, "Knock knock," Xavier replies with "Doo Dah?" with perfect inflection, clearly trying to say, "Who's there?"  It's really just about the cutest thing ever.  No really.   Those pictures of puppies and kittens cuddling...forget it...they're a pile of garbage compared to my adorable son trying to get in on the joke!

Celia's first word was cat.  She came downstairs with me every morning and we greeted our pet cat Roma.  Mikey's first word was book...well, really it was guk, but we knew what he meant.  It would crack me up if Xavier works out "Who's there?" as his first word.  And it makes me wonder what other unusual firsts he might have with his early childhood influenced by his crazy siblings.  What will he be motivated by for his first steps?  Probably Mikey encouraging him to come and see the monster poop he made in the potty.  Sigh...sad but true...the kid is amazed by his own...umm...projects.  His first tooth will probably make its appearance when Celia encourages him to take a nibble of her "Mr. Torty Head" sandwich.  (She likes to roll up lunch meat and cheese in a tortilla.  They were inspired by Toy Story 3 to name the sandwich Mr. Tortilla Head but mispronounce it.  If you don't understand the reference, please come to my house and watch the movie with my children while I go shopping).  So, yeah, I'm eager to see what other fun and funny influences the big 'uns have on the little 'un.

While I may not get the humor, Xavier thinks his big brother and sister are the funniest two people on the planet.  I have to work pretty hard tickling just the right spots, making silly faces.  But Celia and Mikey have his number.  Celia can just open her eyes really wide, and he'll crack up.  Mikey has this frenetic dance that sends Xavier into hysterics.  Wait til they're all teenagers and get the same jokes that I don't have a clue of the reference. I'm getting a little taste already. 

Top 10 Inventions Mothers Would Invent if We Had the Time

At least a dozen times a day, I think, "Hey, there should be a thingy that does that for you!  I should invent that.  Other mothers would love it, and I'd be rich!"  But then Mother-Brain sets in and I promptly forget what the great idea was until the problem that initiated the idea in the first place presents itself the next day.  And the cycle repeats.  By the way, for anyone who is a mother, you immediately said, "Ah, yes, Mother-Brain.  I understand completely."  And for those of you who can't relate, let me elaborate on my theory of this oft-misunderstood malady.  Mother-Brain is a condition that often starts during pregancy.  You see, the blood that used to flow to a mother's brain to help her get through studying for the bar, make a brilliant speech in front of brilliant business people, or in my case explain iambic pentameter, is now flowing to the baby who will some day be able to do all of those things...but the mother will never be able to do those things with quite the same gusto.  Why?  She transferred the gusto to the baby.  Now, many moms go on to do great things, mind you.  But my theory is that it requires a whole different energy source than before.  It might be caffeine or chocolate or well, I don't know what others use, but I use caffeine and chocolate.  And the energy to the brain problem doesn't end when the baby's born.  Oh no.  The sleep deprevation depletes even more brain cells, making it doubly challenging to express thoughts in a cohesive manner...or really even have cohesive thoughts to begin with.  And once they sleep through the night, that cures the problem, right?  Oh no, dear friends, that's when the constant barrage of questions comes.  "Mom, why are frogs green?  Why can't I have corn dogs for breakfast?  What happens when you flush the potty?  What are germs?  Does God have hair?  Where are my pants?"  Why, I've used up every ounce of brainpower before 7:30 AM! 

But if I did have the energy to put together a pitch to a gadget company of some sort.  Here are the ideas I've come up with so far.

10.  Swiffer Sleeper:  Make a baby sleeper out of Swiffer material so when the baby learns to crawl, especially if he belly crawls like Xavier, your floors are clean and shiny with little to no effort on your part!

9.  Step Stool Beeper:  This device would detect motion and beep when you come within a couple of feet of the step stool.  So, when you're carrying a baby in the middle of the night, and you're not looking down, you won't run into the blasted step stool that's been left in the hallway for God knows what reason leaving yet another bruise on your shins.  Step Stool Beeper.  Don't laugh...you'll have one soon.

8.  Ipod/Baby Swing:  You can plug in your Ipod and play your favorite music while your baby swings rather than listen to that incessant twinkly lullaby music over and over and over and over and...three kids later...I'm over the twinkly tunes.  And how cool would it be to have your kids singing along with their sweet little voices to Lady Gaga?  OK, I admit, I haven't listened to any actual new music on the radio or anywhere else in so long, I don't even have a cool band in mind to refer to.  I think Lady Gaga sings...right?  ;)

7.  Creative Compliments App:  This app (ap?) would provide interesting ways to tell your kid they did a great job on their artwork, somersault, singing, counting, bike riding, dancing, pooping, etc.  "Good job" is just so vague and uninspiring.  But when you're worn out and the somersault was just OK, it's tough to really flex your lexicon.

6.  A Polite Comment T-Shirt:  There are times when I'm just tired of politely saying, "I sure do," and smiling when I'm told for the 18th time on my trip to Target that "I sure do have my hands full."  I know people don't realize that it's tiresome and unoriginal, so I don't want to give a rude retort.  And someone recently recommended saying, "Yes, but my heart is fuller!"  But I just can't say that with a straight face...however true it might be.  I'd prefer just having a T-shirt that says what I usually say myself those 18 times, "Yes, I do have my hands full, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

5.  A Tough-Mom Voice Recording:  There are a lot of moments when I think I'm being tough with my kids, but they're just not getting it and keep asking for what I've said no to.  But when I really listen to the sound of my own voice, I realize that it's way too sweet.  And when I try to sound really tough, I just yell and sound like a loon and scare Celia.  Mikey is typically unmoved by my over-the-edge mom voice.  Xavier typically shoves more puffs into his mouth.  So, I'd really like to be able to push a button on a machine that says in a firm, forceful, in control voice, maybe one with a British accent...that always makes things sound more official..."Mommy said no and she meant it.  Now mind your mommy."

4.  One-Step-Hair-And-Make-Up-Mask:  There are days now and again...like Monday-Friday...when it's tough to fit in doing my own hair and make-up.  And while I totally and completely believe in the idea that moms have to take care of themselves so that we can take care of our loved ones, reality is that sometimes Mommy chooses to sleep an extra 15 minutes to take care of herself instead of looking glam.  So, I propose a mask that has hair and make-up completely done on those days when yeah, it just ain't happenin'.

3.  Robotic Car Seat:  I get that car seat straps have to be tough enough to undo that kids can't just get out and hang out the sun roof, but it's a shame that they're also so hard to latch.  I calculate that I would save 1.7 million minutes a year if my kids could strap themselves into their own car seats.  Enter robotic car seat.  Patent pending.

2.  No Leak Juice Boxes:  Capri Suns are not welcome in my home.  I don't want to talk about it.  So, we've just started allowing juice boxes for snack time at school.  But really?  Et tu, juice box?  Why must they have bendy straws?  The kids pick up the box, and the strength of their baby grips is enough to squirt out the juice onto the Mater picture on the box, the Lightning McQueen picture on the shirt, and the Pixar logo on the shoes.  There has to be a stronger material to make those boxes out of.  There's got to be!  I believe that we have the technology.

1.  The Never-Ending Paper Towel Roll:  I'm sorry, Mother Earth.  I love you.  I recycle.  I take canvas bags to the grocery store.  I thought about walking the kids to school once.  But I draw the line at not using paper towels.  I love a good, strong, durable, absorbant paper towel.  I tried the ones recycled from old cardboard boxes or something, but I had to use ten of them to make up for their cheapness.  So, I get the good ones.  But seriously, with three little ones, I can go through a roll in about a hour and a half.  Between the Cheerio slurry that Xavier creates, Celia's near-constant artistic endeavors, and Mikey's drippy apple sauce episodes, we're not so earth friendly.  My new product will be the water jug delivery guy equivilant to paper towels.  But you'll have your own paper towel fairy who lives in the cupboard (that's right...I went with cupboard...no self respecting fairy would be caught dead in a cabinet...too bourgeois) and when she notices you've run out of towels, she'll pop another roll on for you right away!  And for an additional $9.95, she'll create clever art projects out of those empty paper towel rolls.

OK, so there are my ideas!  None are patented yet, so have at 'em.  I'll never get around to doing anything with them anyway.

Pee, Poop, and Goldfish Crackers

You know it's a Saturday night in the South (yes, I consider Tallahassee a part of the South, although most folks don't count Florida as such...Tallahassee is really south Georgia but it got lost and refused to ask for directions) when you get out of the shower and find your husband on the couch watching his favorite college football team on his laptop, his second favorite team on the big screen, and checking his Blackberry for other scores, all at the same time.  He politely offered me the T.V., but it was a great opportunity for me to get some scrapbooking done and he just looked so happy, I couldn't upset that lovely balance.  I finished as much scrapbooking as I had the enthusiasm for and thought I'd play around on-line.  I opened up Pinterest, my new Internet obsession, found a cool crafty coaster idea that I thought I'd send to my lovely and talented sister Beth, when I couldn't find her name on my list of people I follow.  Gasp!  Beth's the one who hooked me on this thing, and now she's given it up?!  She recently mentioned to me that she felt like the computer was a terrible time suck in her life and she was attempting to spend less time on it and more time getting things done like spending time with her sweet babies.  It got me to thinking about simplifying and what things I could scrap and be a little happier.

One of the commercials that was on during one of the football games (one of the seventeen that seem to be on at the same time...every time I look up there are different colors on the screen) said something about how many thoughts a person has a minute or something like that.  I joked to Mike that I have about three thoughts a day and they're all about pee, poop, and food.  Who needs to go potty?  Who is hungry?  Am I hungry?  When's the last time I peed?  And by the way, what's up with my children's new obsession with going to the bathroom with me every time I say I'm going.  Maybe I should announce that I'm going to the other room to eat broccoli, take a bag of it, and have five minutes of peace.  I'll have to try that.  Anyway, I digress.  Since becoming a mother, certain parts of life seem way more complicated than they used to be, like getting in and out of vehicles to go into stores.  But other things have gotten way simpler.  I used to spend a lot of time fretting over the future, over whether or not I'd ever find "the one."  I also spent more time that I'd like to admit organizing closets, arranging books on shelves, and shopping for deals on decorations inspired by HGTV shows, trying to make the house look like a magazine but not something I ever did anything in.  I'd even prop up the most difficult-looking piece of piano music on the piano to make it look like I was more talented than I am, which is not at all. 

Now that I've got three little ones, four years old and under, I spend very little if any of my day fretting about whether I'm living up to my full potential as a person.  I don't read self-help books focusing on whether I'm living my passion.  I don't mind so much if the house looks lived in.  I'm thrilled, in fact, that I finally have a full house of busy little humans making messes and living it up!  Yes, there are scuff marks on the wall, something they'd never tolerate in a decorating magazine.  And my linoleum floors aren't what a designer would choose, but man, are they easy to clean. I'm just happy to keep things simple. 

When we were trying to sell our townhome, we eliminated a bunch of the pictures and knick knacks to de-personalize it for showings, and I have to say, I loved not having to move those things around when I dusted, so we haven't put many of those things out once we moved.  I still enjoy the decorating shows, but I'm drawn to the streamlined designs now that seem efficient and kid-friendly. 

I'm interested in growing as a person and being creative, but I have to keep that side of life simple, too, or else I won't have time for what's really important, and that's having energy to keep up with my kiddos.  I'm taking a class at church, and it's great, but it's once a week and there's no homework.  That's doable!  I'm reading a book for pleasure, but it may take me three months to get through it, and that's OK.  I'm enjoying getting together with friends once a month or so to scrapbook, a great creative outlet for me, but if it takes me til Xavier is 2 to get his baby book done, that' fine, too.  I'm only doing the baby book, not one for each year of each kids' life, or I'd be overwhelmed and grumpy. 

Trying to keep up with three preschoolers is exhausting enough as it is.  I want to be present for them in these precious times I have with them.  Everyone keeps reminding me how fast the time passes.  These are all people with much older children, who know how it feels in retrospect.  I tell you some days seem to last an eternity, but I try to remember to savor those simple moments.  Here are the highlights from just one day of simple moments that I'm glad I was present to experience:

-Mikey dressing as Spiderman for our trip to Target and getting smiles and comments from children and adults alike.

-Celia making up a song about a princess eating a cookie and just belting it out with the passion of a televangelist as we drove in the van.

-Xavier pulling up on the little rocking chair that was Mike's when he was a little boy and just grinning up at us like he'd climbed Mt. Everest.

-Mikey insisting on giving me exactly three hugs and three kisses at bedtime, often kissing my belly or arm instead of my cheek...I'll take it!

-Celia making a new friend in the play zone at (you guessed it) Chick-Fil-A.  She makes friends more easily than anyone I've ever seen.  I envy that.

-Xavier splashing in the bubbles in the bathtub...there's nothing cuter than a chubby baby covered in bubbles.  Oh, maybe his baby buns covered in bubbles...that's cuter.

Yeah, I don't miss all the other clutter that used to fill up my brain on a daily basis.  I'm content to just focus on who needs to use the bathroom next and who needs their ration of Goldfish.  I'll read philosophy books another day.

What I've Learned About Parenting from Chick-Fil-A

I'm really not getting paid by Chick-Fil-A to write this blog entry.  Since having kids, I have just developed a real love affair with the Chick Chick.  And here are some of my reflections on just why I love it so. 

10.  Limited choices make life easier.  Chick-Fil-A makes grilled chicken and fried chicken, and they're both good.  Give your kids two choices, and they feel empowered.  Give them twenty, and everyone's overwhelmed.

9.  Take a break on Sundays.  I always want Chick-Fil-A on Sundays.  Because you always want what you can't have.  But what a great reminder to take a day of rest.  It's so easy to cram the week with all kinds of activities, but how great to just take one day to take a break from it all.

8.  Serve others cheerfully.  CFA employees don't just answer a "thank you" with a "you're welcome."  They go a step further and reply, "My pleasure" and smile.  In nearly every other fast food restaurant I ever go to, it's hard to even get the employees to make eye contact, so it's noticeable when this kind of service is offered.  And it makes me feel great and smile, too!  It's just a little thing, but it's a great reminder to not only make my children their food or bathe them or any of the other daily "chores" that I perform, but to do those things with pleasure...now that's the right way to live!

7.  Think ahead of the little things.  CFA has hand sanitizing wipes near the play area, place mats that stick to the table for kids, and little containers of Cheerios for the tiny ones to munch on.  They carry food to the table for you if it's obvious you have your hands full (say with three small humans).  And they even supply ladies with lady things in the ladies' room.  It's so nice to know that someone has thought of all of those things for me.  As a mom, I'm constantly having to think ahead to anticipate the dietary, toileting, and hygeine issues of my family.  Planning ahead makes them feel safe and loved.

6.  Simple things make special days feel special.  During the month of my kids' birthdays, they're invited to CFA for a party with other kids who share their birth month.  It's a simple event with a free meal, cake, a balloon, a T-shirt, and a little cow toy.  It probably doesn't cost a lot for them to put this on each month, but the kids think it's fabulous.  They get to hug a giant cow and play on a twisty slide; what more could a kid want?  So, why did I spend an hour earlier today trying to come up with the perfect party plan for each kids' next birthday, which is still three months away?

5.  Be efficient.  I've never been through a drive-thru that is faster than CFA.  They've been at this business a while and have a few things figured out.  Parenting is not so unlike the fast food business, right?  I mean you've got hungry customers demanding things of you quickly.  They want the same things from day to day, so be prepared with how to handle it.  Figure out which techniques work and which ones don't and repeat what works.

4.  Be present.  It's so lovely to me when the manager comes over and asks me if I need a refill and compliments my baby.  Squeeze my baby's chubby legs and ask my big kids a question or two about their names and ages, and it makes me want to become a regular.  Who doesn't want to come into a restaurant where they know your order or maybe your name and have a "Norm!" moment?  Maybe it's just me, but I like a little personal treatment.  It's so easy for me to go through the motions changing diapers, making lunches, cleaning up, and all the rest of the mommy duties without stopping to ask the kids simple questions.  How hard is it to throw in a, "What did you dream about last night" or a "What are you most excited about doing at school?" at every meal at least?  Mealtime is the perfect time to reconnect after a lot of busyness and a great time to teach conversation skills.

3.  Giant cows and brownies make everything better.  My kids adore that cow.  Even when Mikey was being pretty antisocial around age 2, he hugged that cow.  And their brownies...well, I heart them.  The parenting lesson here?  A little silliness thrown in to every day goes a long way with little ones.  And a little treat every now and then, for the kids and for Mommy is a good thing!

2.  You don't have to spend a lot for a meal to be special.  We just happened to stop at CFA on Valentine's Day one year.  We were doing our V-Day dinner out the next night, but we took the kids out on the 14th.  When we got there, they had cloth table cloths, lit candles, and red roses on each table.  They even had live musicians!  And you know what?  It was lovely.  There were couples there enjoying a strangely romantic meal.  What a great lesson for a mom who tends to spend too much money on toys and activities for the kids when they'd honestly be thrilled to just spend that time playing hide-and-seek with me in the house.

1.  Mealtime is family time.  Everything I've said so far is summed up in this statement.  CFA does a great job of offering food and an environment that appeals to both parents and kids.  We get our time together eating a meal we all enjoy, and then the kids get to play in the kids' zone, leaving Mike and me to chat together, just the two of us.  The balance of time with the kids and time with just each other is so important to every family.  Keeping the spousal bond strong through communication keeps the entire family strong.  It keeps the two of us on the same page as far as parenting strategies and gives us time to marvel at the amazing little people we've been given the honor of raising. 

And so while I'm not currently paid by the Chick Chick, I aspire to some day own a franchise.  ;)  Not really.  But I'll keep slugging their Coke Zeroes and munching on their waffle fries as long as they keep the inspiration coming. 

Why Does Wal-Mart Hate Me?

I don't enjoy Wal-Mart. Let me just go on the record. I dislike the fact that no matter which entrance I use, I will have to walk 26.2 miles to get to the three items I need. The elapsed time to walk to each corner of the store will require approximately 35 years. BECAUSE...on a good day, the store's just way too freakin' big and has too many things and too few people working there who give a hoot whether your shopping experience is pleasant or just one step up from a root canal.

But Wal-Mart has managed to make my shopping experience take even longer. Now I have to pack meals, wear a Camelback, and plan for naps in the bedding department for the kids (and myself). BECAUSE...of Cars 2 marketers. I will get you, Pixar! It's not enough now to just avoid the toy section when I go to buy formula, spring water, and toilet paper. No, they've got that insipid race car and tow truck turned into all kinds of nonsense that my three-year-old boy thinks is gold. Mater pillows, Mater water bottles, Mater snacks, Lightning McQueen booster seats, Lightning McQueen bandaids, Lightning McQueen wrapping paper, bubble bath, burritos, drain declogger, rock salt, and antifreeze. Wait, that last one might actually make sense. Anyway, you get my point. The products coat the store like Christmas decorations starting in October.

Oh, and Mikey, and I'm sure millions of other little boys eat it up! Mikey has to check out the Mater bubble maker for fifteen minutes begging me the whole time to spend $20 on this nonsense that will likely not work. Trying to convince a preschooler by saying something like, "Actually, Mikey, you're feeding right into the marketers from the movie company's money-making scheme. They think that they could put Lightning McQueen's silly picture on a rock, and little boys would want to buy it," would only receive an excited, "THEY HAVE LIGHTNING MCQUEEN ROCKS HERE?!"

So, now I know that when I go to Wal-Mart...until this Cars 2 takeover settles down, I need to go alone or pack a tent for an overnight stay. Ahh, who am I kidding? I don't need to pack a tent. I'll just buy the Mater tent over in sporting goods.

Watermelon, Taco Bell, and a Frog on the Toilet

It occurred to me today while shopping at Publix, where shopping truly is a pleasure.  For you out-of-Floridians, that's their slogan.  Where else can you take your kids to pick up a free prescription for antibiotics, get a free balloon, and a free cookie all while they ride around in a two-seater car cart?  Anyway, it occurred to me while shopping that I never used to buy watermelon before I had kids.  I never considered buying watermelon.  It's way too much trouble to lug that giant fruit into the cart to begin with.  Then cutting it up is a huge undertaking.  It's messy to eat.  And the seeds.  Oh, the seeds!  But today, while carting around Celia and Mikey, I spotted a huge crate of giant watermelons, and for a moment, I thought, "Man, the kids would LOVE to get one of those!"  OK, I admit that today wasn't the day to get one, but the fact that I'd even consider it just shows that life is way different with kids.

I want them to experience new things all the time.  And everything is so new and fascinating to them.  Their impressions of every single little thing in the world is influenced by the way I present it to them for the first time.  This fact has made me much more aware of my own attitude toward everything from frogs and bugs to vegetables and swimming pools.

I'm a total chicken when it comes to amphibious creatures who break an entering.  Froggies are not welcome in my home because they freak my freak.  Mike laughed at me the other day when I locked a frog in the bathroom for nine hours so that he could rescue it and send it packing.  He asked me what I was afraid of, and I told him what I tell him about frogs, lizards, mice, and any other tiny critter.  "I'm afraid it'll jump in my bra."  It's so utterly and ridiculous a fear that it makes him laugh, and then he just takes care of the problem. Yes, that means he had to leave work once to retrieve a dead mouse in a mouse trap much to the entertainment of his fellow attorneys.  I don't care who laughs at me.  One day, a roach is going to leap down Mike's shirt, and he's going to admit that I was right all along.  But when my kids are around, I try to fake it.  When Celia was tiny, there were all of these tiny baby frogs that would hang out on her little sliding board in the back yard.  They were so tiny, I'm sure at least fifty could have fit into my bra easily. Needless to say, I wasn't so thrilled to be so close to them.  But, I didn't want Celia to worry.  After all, she wouldn't be wearing a bra for some time, right?  So, I took some deep breaths and faked it. "Look how cute the froggies are!  Oh, they're babies.  I wonder if they're looking for their mama."  And Celia was delighted by them.  Clearly I failed her on the bug front, since she refuses to eat in a restaurant if she's seen the tiniest gnat near her food.  She'll politely ask the waitress for a To-Go box and wait til she gets home.

I've digressed completely and utterly from my original point though.  Noticing and enjoying new and different things now that I have kids is just such a joy.  We literally stop and smell flowers.  No parking lot puddle is safe with my kiddos.  Making ice cream is way too much trouble, unless you have kids who just might enjoy learning about the process...or a husband who would.  We once stopped during a walk to water a worm who looked too dry.  You do not go to the mall without a load of pennies to throw in the fountain.  When going through a drive-thru, we have to roll down their window too so that they can introduce themselves and tell their ages to the attendant.

I'm learning as we go that we slow down and make time to do all of these things.  That might mean that a trip to a store to get two things lasts an hour, but there are so many new things to see, taste, smell, hear, and touch.  Every single moment of the day is full of learning and doing.  Man, those kids can suck a day dry...in a good way.  I mean they absolutely pay attention to things that are really pretty inane.  I mean who gets worked up over taking the overpass?  MY KIDS!  "Mommy, it's the flyover!  Oh, thank you for taking us over the flyover!  We can see everything from up here!  Look!  It's Taco Bell!"  While their daddy does enjoy a cheesey gordita crunch (with extra sauce), it cracks me up that the sight of Taco Bell could thrill them so.  They've never been to Taco Bell.  They don't like tacos when I serve them.  But seeing it from up so high is a complete and total thrill.  And I love that.  I used to fake enthusiasm for these things, but slowly, as I see things through their eyes, my feigned excitement is becoming more genuine.  You know what?  Seeing Taco Bell from way up high is pretty darn cool!  And even that frog (that Mikey swears broke the toilet...the toilet broke in an unrelated incident) was kind of cute in his own way.  Viewing the world from a preschooler's vantage point isn't all butts and knees.  It's pretty awesome and full of fresh, new thrills.  Maybe this mama will even get over her fear of critters.  Or maybe I'll just finally get that watermelon.

Savoring My Queen Bee Status Just a Little Bit Longer

Celia drew this picture of herself and me today. I'm the one with what looks like a halo on my head.  It's actually my hair band, she told me.  If you've seen me in the past few years (or knew me in high school when I sported the same look), you'll know that until my recent haircut, I wore a hair band every day to keep that mane out of my face.  I don't know how other long-haired women do it who seem to always be facing the wind.  I don't see them in the parking lot of Target, holding the hands of two toddlers, a diaper bag, a purse, and pushing a stroller, all the while, looking like a stunt double for Cousin It.  But I digress.  That is me and my hair band and I LOVE this picture.  I love it not just because these are some of Celia's first drawings of people and that they actually have bodies and not just floating heads with limbs stuck out of the sides.  I love it not just because of the fact that she included the details of her ubiquitous bow and my hair band.  I love it because it's a picture of just us two.  And no offense at all to daddy who asked her to include him in the drawing, but it's special because it's just us girls.  And in her mind, Mommy totally rocks.  Because right now Celia is four.  And I know that life will change.  I taught middle school for eight years.  I know what's coming.  I'm totally savoring the fact that for now, both she and Mikey want ME to hold their hands while we shop.  They want ME to sit on their bed and hold them while we pray at bedtime.  They call for MOMMY in the middle of the night when they're sick, need more water, need their noses wiped, need their tushes wiped, need me to wipe tears away and (as Mikey puts it) "feel me better."  I'm truly soaking up the moments because I know that soon enough, Mommy will no longer be anything close to cool.  But I also know (I taught middle school for eight years, remember?) that I'm going to continue to be there for all the times they need me to "feel them better" just in new and different ways.  I remember what my dear friend Jane's mom used to tell us.  I became friends with Jane in the eighth grade, so Mrs. Bible got to know me during my most heinous years, I'm sure.  She was a wise woman.  One of my favorite of her quotes is, "Nothing goes right when your underwear's too tight."  All kidding aside, I really did learn much from her.  I remember she told us that she truly enjoyed every age and stage that her girls went through.  That each new era brought new joys and gifts. I hold onto that as I see these sweet preschool years going way too quickly by.  I am savoring every hand hold for now, but I embrace the sweetness that the future years will bring as well.  And when Celia is rolling her eyes at me as I try to take her picture on the first day of eighth grade, you can bet I'll be clutching that picture that she drew of the two of us today.

What's the Opposite of Pudding?

The kids have recently gotten interested in learning about opposites.  It all started with a game we created called "Simon Says Across the Mattress."  The rules of the game are just like Simon Says, but you do whatever Simon tells you to do across the crib mattress that we recently replaced on Mikey's bed.  Naturally, the bouncy mattress didn't make its way straight out to the garage.  It made a stop on the living room floor where Mikey and Celia decided jumping onto it from the coffee table was a great way to burn off excess energy (which they are in no short supply of!)  Worrying for the safety of the kids and the furniture, we developed this game.  At first I gave them simple directions like, "Simon says:  Hop on one foot across the mattress."  They were really motivated to follow my directions just because they got to bounce while doing the tasks.  I wonder if I could get them to pick up their toys faster or eat their vegetables while crossing the mattress.  Hmm...note to self.  Anyway, I started giving them mental tasks, too, like, "Simon says:  Name three words that start with C while you cross the mattress," and "Count to twelve,"  and "Tell me your address."  Man, I was feeling great about the objectives I was playfully spinning into this game!  My kids are learning and playing!  Go, me!  Then, I told Mikey to tell me some planets while he crossed the mattress.  His answer was, "Earth, Mars, Penis."  Yeah, that last one was supposed to be Venus.  We'll have to work on that one. 

But the objective that caught their attention the most was opposites.  "Simon says:  Tell me the opposite of black/high/day/tall/short," etc.  They were getting it really quickly!  Yay for my smart kids!  But they couldn't let it go.  In the car, at the table, before bed, the questions barrage me.  "Mommy, what's the opposite of dog?"  I'm stumped.  Cat can't be right although it's the first thing I think of.  Cats and dogs seem to have little in common, but no, wait, they're both mammals, are domesticated animals, are furry, the list goes on and on.  So, Mommy has no answer. I'm quickly realizing that opposites apply to adjectives and adverbs, not nouns, but I'm pretty sure they're not ready for a parts of speech lesson, so I figure I'd better just get more creative for now.  "Mommy, what's the opposite of couch?"  Hmm, again, Mommy's stumped.  Something not soft, not in front of a T.V., not something we sit on.  "Pudding!" I reply.  That's right, kids.  Remember that one for preschool. 

Guardian Angel Accidents Avoided Report

Day 149 on the job, 5,009 catastrophes averted, 1,954 collisions prevented, 867 bumps and bruises avoided

8:00 AM  Older two awake and sick.  Baby awakes, I reinsert pacifier to ensure one more hour of sleep and one more hour of germ avoidance.  Plan to do similar throughout day to ensure maximum alone time in crib.

9:00 AM  Baby awakes for feeding.  Celia pounces on baby immediately.  I distract her with a shiny object to avoid head bump.  (Note to self:  Research why four-year-old girl might bob head repeatedly at baby's head in style of Hasidic Jew at Wailing Wall).

9:05  AM  Insert germ shield between mother's sneeze and baby's face.

9:07 AM  Pinch mother to keep her awake so as not to drop baby.  (Note:  Hide Nyquil in back of medicine cabinet so mom's more alert tomorrow).

9:30 AM  Block crayon bucket inches before it bumps baby in the head.  Mother must have blinked.

9:45  AM  Security Level Red!  Mother went to restroom leaving baby strapped into swing while older siblings lurk nearby.  Mikey dangles antique Goldfish found under couch cushion dangerously close to baby's face.  I activate the talking Elmo toy that hasn't worked in a year to divert his attention.

10:15  AM  Strategically place Jesus Loves Me bookmark so mother notices just as she's about to lose temper with 89th request for Max and Ruby of the morning.

10:30  AM  Sprinkle sleeping dust on baby's eyes just before Mikey has an accident in his underpants and Celia needs restroom assistance. 

10:35 AM  Take break while baby sleeps

12:45 PM  Realize I should have stayed awake.  Baby scratched head repeatedly when he got out of swaddle.  (Note:  Whisper in mother's ear at next naptime to swaddle more tightly).

12:50 PM  Muffle children's 400th telling of the interrupting cow joke long enough for mother to measure formula properly.

2:00 PM  Somehow all four of them are squeezed into the bathroom.  Not asking questions.  While all are distracted, turn batteries around wrong way to stop Elmo's incessant story telling that hasn't stopped since this morning.

2:15 PM  Call to cousin Leah's guardian angel to whisper to Aunt Beth to call her sister who desperately needs adult conversation after watching the pilot episode of Krypto the Superdog for the fourth time today.

2:30 PM  Double dose of sleeping dust for extra-long nap.  The Nyquil's wearing off mother, but is on her second box of Kleenex of the day. 

3:30 PM  Sing baby lullaby to get baby back to sleep after waking to the noises of big kids launching selves from coffee table onto crib mattress.

4:45 PM  Place phone near Mikey's favorite Mater truck.  He presses redial, calls Dad, hangs up.  Dad returns call, gives Mom much needed encouragement to get through last two hours before he returns home.

5:00 PM  Whisper to Celia to pick up doll and pretend to feed her to gently remind Mom that fussing baby might want another bottle sometime today. 

5:15 PM  Pick up and throw away three tiny beads that fell out of Celia's artistic centerpiece that would certainly have choked the baby once he learned how to crawl.

5:40 PM  Scoot dirty diaper an inch further from baby's foot after change to avert filthy catastrophe.

Every minute between 5:45-6:35 PM  Pray without ceasing that family makes it through dinner, bathtime, and pajama time without someone losing a tooth, a handful of hair, their temper, or their mind.  And sing sweetly to Xavier so he will stay calm in the middle of the chaos.

6:35 PM  Daddy's home!  I'm clocking out. 

The Laws of Physics Need Not Apply

Observing a four year old, a three year old, and a four month old in action, particularly traversing parking lots, weaving through aisles at stores and positioning themselves on couches has recently gotten me wondering: when do children begin to appreciate the laws of physics? I mean when do they start to understand that if another body is taking up that bit of space, then my body can not take up said space?

I'll give an example. today as we wiggled our collective booties out of the minivan in the Target parking lot...but wait, let me interrupt my own train of thought. There is nothing mini about a minivan. Trying to get a stroller between my vehicle and another in a parking lot while manipulating the infant carrier (which increases my 12 pound infant's weight to 12,000 pounds) and corralling two preschoolers is near impossible without someone ending up with a contusion to the noggin. You see, rear-view mirrors are at the exact height of the average four year old. For awhile, it didn't matter if the kids were paying attention to where they were going, they'd slide effortlessly under the mirrors. Today though, I find myself having to think like a seeing-eye dog for all of the kids. It's not that they have any sort of vision problems. No, they have physics problems.

The synapses spark along something like this: Get out of van. Hold onto stroller or I'll get a timeout. Must get into Target as fast as I can so I can convince Mommy to buy me a $1 piece of junk plastic toy from the dollar section that they strategically place at the front of the store so all mommies have to get their child something each and every time they enter Target. I love Target. Target has cool big round thingies at the front of the store. Maybe we can sit on them and pretend we laid giant eggs. THUMP! Whaaaa! Where did that mirror come from?!

So, maybe I just answered my own question about why they don't notice the mirror. Or it could be because while they're holding onto the stroller, they're gazing at the baby, attempting to hold his hand and remind him that he is the sweetest baby in all the land, so they aren't looking in the direction of the mirror. So, yes, distraction plays a role.

But for them to not realize that it is just not possible for the stroller and the two of them to squeeze through a 2 1/2 foot space just confuses me. They'll sometimes think hard enough to realize, "Hey, maybe I should turn sideways to fit through," but it never ever seems to occur to either of them to walk behind the stroller or to slide in front of the stroller and make a little toddler train. Maybe that's where I've gone wrong. I haven't turned the event of moving from the Swagger Wagon to the targeted venue into a game with a Disney-worthy song.

OK, so here goes.

Sometimes it's not so easy when you're really small.

To get into the grocery store or Target or the mall.

The parking space is so narrow, not big enough for three

To squeeze through all together so we create a train you see!

Celia is the engine and Mikey's a freight car.

Who's taking up the rear? It's Mommy and Xavier!

Sure, that last part needs some work on the rhyming. I'll perfect it during my abundant spare time.

Anyway, the parking lot is only the beginning. I could write a whole post on getting through doors with a stroller. The person who invented automatic doors and handicapped automatic door openers is a saint in my book. If I had time to spearhead a campaign, it would be to have stroller parking places in all parking lots and automatic door opening devices on doors in public places. In the meantime, I suppose I could park in more faraway spots without cars on either side and get Mikey and Celia to pump some iron so they can open the doors for me. Until then, I'll just try to think like a three and four year old and remind them that the laws of physics do indeed apply even to supercute, supertiny humans.

Pepping Myself Up

Body image is a tough issue for lots of post-baby moms. I'm having a particularly tough time with it post-baby #3. About eight years ago, I started Weight Watchers and lost 30 pounds, and that's just about the amount I gain when I'm pregnant. So, I've gained and lost 30 pounds several times in the last few years. I haven't gotten back to my goal weight since before getting pregnant with Celia, but I've been close, like within 5 pounds. But man, now that I've got three kiddos, finding the time to exercise and finding the discipline to eat right has been REALLY HARD! My fantastic sister Beth has helped motivate me to exercise and we've both been doing the Thirty Day Shred for a while now. But somehow, while she's lost five pounds doing the DVD and detoxing, eating only really healthy things, I've managed to take off nothing, go on a cruise, eat whatever I want, get post-cruise vertigo, use that as an excuse to continue eating cookies, and be full of regret and remorse that I'm wearing a size that I'm unhappy about.

I'm not just blogging about this to whine, although getting it out of my system is theraputic and helpful. My hope is that I'll motivate myself through writing about it, and by making it public, maybe I'll get my wide rear in gear! No more excuses! The kids are not slowing me down from losing weight. They're there to help actually. I'm constantly in motion doing something for one of them. They are the biggest supporters of me doing my Thirty Day Shred. Celia and Mikey jump right in front of the T.V. and jump around with me. Celia calls me out when I'm cheating and not doing the moves right. Mikey gets on my back when I do push ups, trying to increase my metabolism. Xavier even tries to add an extra challenge by spitting up in the middle of my jumping jacks, so I have to run to him, wipe his face, and keep on moving. Thank you, Collazlings, thank you for caring. Also, if I'm really being a loving and nurturing mother, I'll set the example of what healthy eating looks like and feed them similarly. I bet they'd enjoy cooking dinner with me just about as much as baking brownies. It's time to start a new routine. As my old Weight Watcher's leader used to say, "If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always gotten." Time to shake it up!

And Beth rocks my socks! She has agreed to watch the fiesta trio every Wednesday morning starting this week so that I can go to my Weight Watchers meetings. Apparently, I really need that accountability. If a stranger isn't writing down my weight each week, I just don't stay on track. It's kind of like going to confession. You go and face the music, get some advice, and start fresh each time.

I know how it's done. I can do it. I've done it repeatedly before. And it feels SO AMAZING to look in the mirror and like what I see. Oh to feel my hip bones again! To get back into the scores of cute single-digit-sized pants hanging in my closet! To be able to do the crazy jump moves in level 3 of that DVD and not feel my belly jiggle for 10 minutes afterwards! It's so totally worth it. I'm worth it. My kids deserve to have a mommy who feels good about how she looks and who is strong and healthy.

And just one more thought on this whole body image thing...my extra rolls and jiggles and even the stretch marks are beautiful, too, because they are the result of bringing three of the most amazing kids ever born into the world. But I've got the amazing product that this amazing body has issued forth. I'm ready to enjoy them and myself again. I can do it. I will do it. Here I go!

A Day in the Life: Part 2

OK, Isa, here are the rest of my tips for Collazling care. I left off last time before lunch, I believe. They usually eat around 11:30 and order as if they're at Subway (that is if Subway offered PB&J). You can, of course, just tell them what they're going to eat, but at some point, I thought it was a good idea to give them choices. Yeah, that was a mistake. I do try to limit their choices to two things, but you can pretty much bet on the fact that one will choose turkey and cheese and the other will choose grilled cheese. Mikey's totally in love with peanut butter sandwiches right now, but seat him away from Celia and clean his hands well after he eats since Celia is allergic to peanuts. I always offer some sort of fruit with lunch, like an apple, apple sauce, a peach cup, etc. They will let you know what they like and don't like. I have not raised timid children. Sigh.

Did I mention in the last post that we've tried to limit T.V. to one show in the morning and one in the afternoon? Of course, you do whatever you need to do to get through the day. Some days, I break my own rule and set them up with a big long movie. Toy Story 3 counts as one show, right? But honestly, they've gotten really good at entertaining themselves by playing with each other. Give them Lightning McQueen, Mater, the random pink car that they call Sally (even though Sally in the movie is blue) and they'll be set for an hour, making up hilarious stories that usually involve getting new tires, going to the car wash, visiting CVS, and flying. They'll ask you go play. And if you say, "Wait a few minutes," Mikey will ask repeatedly if a few minutes is over yet. You'll politely tell him, "Not yet. I'll tell you when I'm ready," and he'll say, "I'll tell YOU when I'm ready." He doesn't mean to be rude. He just REALLY wants you to have as much fun as he is having with those cars. They're like toy crack to this kid. He can't get enough of playing with anything that Pixar has put out in the stores. I'm quite sure our purchases alone are keeping several Pixar workers employed right now. Some high ranking ones. But I digress...

The afternoons are a good time to double check on the baby and make sure that he's really breathing. Yes, he really does just sleep that much. He loves the swing and will sleep in it half the day. Mikey will ask you not to turn on the music. It's his Kryptonite. Playing baby swing music sends him into a tailspin. I can't explain it. Xavier also enjoys sleeping in the arms of anyone warm, in his swaddling blanket, in his car seat (in a moving car or not), in a crib, on a boat, with a goat, that kid will sleep anywhere. And with any amount of noise. He's unaffected. Just kiss him periodically and tell him he's a sweet boy. He'll be happy.

If you're planning an outing, please warn Mikey ahead of time of your plans. He's happy to go just about anywhere, but he likes to plan ahead. When I spring things on him, he revolts. If a revolt happens, give him a warning that he needs to calm down. Often all I have to do is warn him that a time-out is coming if he can't calm down on his own and count to three. If by three, he's not calm, he stands in a corner for three minutes. At the end of a time-out, he has to tell you why he got a time-out and say he's sorry to whomever the recipient of his wrong was. The same procedure goes for any rule breaking and for Celia, too. They usually respond well to this form of correction. The recipient of the apology should tell the penitent one that they forgive him or her. And yes, the sound of their little voices saying, "I'm sowwy," and "I forgive you," will cause you to put your hand over your heart at least.

When getting from the van to the goal venue, I always ask them to hold onto the stroller to stay safe. They will need to be reminded to look up to not hit their heads on sideview mirrors of vehicles in parking lots. Sigh. And they chase their tails.

If they ask you what poison ivy looks like, what lightning is, or to hear the "Ghostbusters" song, fell free to check You Tube or Google images, but check it privately first. I learned the hard way about the lightning thing. It was a little scarier than I anticipated for them. And yes, they do know the words to "Ghostbusters." Ask Aunt Beth.

They usually eat dinner around 6:00 and favorite foods include pizza, mac and cheese, quesadillas, scrambled eggs, and chicken nuggets. Oh and chicken and rice are popular especially when made by Aba Cha Cha Cha. We're working on variety in their diet though and would love for new things to be introduced. They ate and loved tilapia tonight! Who knew?! If they don't eat what's presented, please don't feel like you have to come up with something else. Neither of these kiddos is going to starve if they don't eat one meal.

Follow dinner with bathtime. Think like Mike to give them baths. Daddy is the bathmaster at our house. They'll tell you exactly how they like it if you ask them. Tooth brushing is next. Mikey totally doesn't get how to spit yet, but tell him to try anyway. Celia takes her Singulair; it's chewable. She gets a Pull-Up, and Mikey gets a diaper. If they ask for jabambas, that's just Collazo-ese for pajamas. And they like socks at bedtime. Oh, and yes, Celia will want to wear a bow and her pink Santa hat to bed. She calls it her sleeping hat. Quirky much?

Bedtime is around 7:30. They like to read three stories at bedtime. I'll bring some that are short, so you're not stuck reading The Polar Express for an hour. They sleep with their sippy cups filled with water and a few stuffed animals. OK, who am I kidding? They each sleep with about eight stuffed animals and I can't figure out how they fit in bed, too. But it keeps them happy. We say the Lord's Prayer, the Hail Mary, Glory Be and the bedtime prayer that starts, "Now I lay me down to sleep." Mikey has them all memorized, so if you aren't sure of some of them, ask him to say them for you. Even if you don't ask him to, when you're done saying them, he'll chime in, "Do you want to hear my prayer?" And he'll recite them almost perfectly. Well, instead of "...holy Mary mother of God," he says, "...holy Mary full of God," but he gets most of it right. Kiss them, hug them, tell them sweet dream and that you love them. Oh, and if you remember, tell them that Mommy and Daddy love them and will see them soon. Xavier just needs to be swaddled and to be given his pacifier (or nubbin) and turn on the white noise machine to heartbeat. He'll drift of ridiculously fast after his last bottle of the day, usually around 8:30.

If anyone wakes in the middle of the night, it's usually easy to get them right back to sleep. Celia wakes for a tissue, more water, her sleeping hat, or a blanket adjustment. Mikey might wake to ask for more water or to ask you to listen to his prayer. Xavier wakes for renubbinizing, i.e. just put his pacifier in his mouth and reswaddle him. These things usually only take a moment and they fall right back to sleep.

I hope this isn't an insulting amount of information. I know you are a mom yourself and have been here and done this. I also know that as a mom, you understand that moms worry. It helps me worry less knowing that you know more than you need to know about this trio of squirts. It helps even more knowing that you are their adoring aunt who loves them completely, unconditionally, and joyfully. They honestly are so excited about spending the long weekend with you all! They have no reservations, fears, anxieties at all. And so I don't either. My plan is to kick back on this cruise, enjoy sleeping as late as I want to, exercise when I want to, eat when I want to, do something when I want to, and nothing when I don't. I'll soak up the time to myself and with my husband and I'll love it with no worry about Celia, Mikey, or Xavier, knowing what caring hands they're in. And when I get back, I'll realize how much I missed them and I'll soak those guys up, too.

A Day in the Life

Mike and I are going on my first ever cruise next week! And we have his sister and brother-in-law to thank for taking care of the three musketeers while we're away. What an amazing gift! They're either extremely generous, big hearted, and courageous, or just crazy. Either way, I can't wait to have four uninterrupted nights of sleep, four days of no wiping of bottoms, noses, spills, or tears. FREEDOM!!!!!!!!!!!!! Isa asked for instructions and preferences the kids have, so look out, sis, here is a little slice of life in the Collazling world.

6:00-7:00 AM Xavier wakes for first feeding (5 oz. water+2.5 scoops of formula+0.3 mL gas drops) Try burping at the halfway point and again at the end. Wait for Homer Simpson-esque belch before proceeding to next step. We always change him right after a feeding or when our noses let us know that an unscheduled change is necessary. Smile at him. He'll grin a big toothless grin back at you. Swaddle him up and put him back down with the white noise machine for a bit more sleep if he woke at 6. If he woke at 7, he might like to stay up a bit and party with the big kids before going back down for a nap. Repeat feedings every three hours. Repeat smiles as often as you need a lift! I take them medicinally.

7:00-8:00 The aforementioned big kids will wake up, possibly chanting, "Mommy, mommy, mommy," in a strange, dirge-like tone. They'll need diaper/pull-ups removed and replaced with fresh dipaer/panties. Please feed these children breakfast or these sweet cherubs will quickly transform into ravenous beasts whose roars are worse than any T-Rex. These little omnivores prefer frozen waffles or pancakes, oatmeal, or cereal with half a banana or some sort of fruit. Our rule is no toys at the table, but their fingers are characters all their own. Please allow them to keep their fingers although it may mean that breakfast turns into dinner theater.

8:30ish Dress the cuties in whatever they'll wear. Xavier, of course will wear anything you put him in, but zippy sleepers seem to make him happiest. Mikey's pretty agreeable, but if you find that you're out of clean Lightning McQueen socks, there might be trouble. We've got three pairs, and one set that he might find acceptable that look like a racing flag. Celia will let you know what she wants to wear, and the choices will vary depending on whether you're dealing with Celia (who is sometimes emotional, prefers yellow, and wears pants or shorts with shirts). Curly is her alter ego who is always charming, obedient, and delightful. She prefers pink (although wears the purple sunglasses, not the pink ones) and really likes dresses. I'll send options for both girls. Both divas like to choose bows, which often don't match their clothes in the least. Just go with it.

Wow, it's only 8:30, and I'm exhausted typing this. Godspeed, Isa and Mark! Rest up before next week!

Between 8:30 and 11:30, we often run errrands, play around the house, watch one T.V. show. They currently prefer "Max and Ruby" on Nick Jr. or "Krypto the Superdog" on Boomerang. These monkeys are spoiled rotten by their overly indulgent mother who keeps these shows on the DVR and can pull them up at a moment's notice. In emergency situations, they're also happy with "Sponge Bob," which seems to be on some channel at all hours of the day. And, they associate Elijah with "Sponge Bob" since they've watched it with him at your house before, so anything Elijah thinks is cool, they'll be down with. He could put on C-Span and say it's cool, and they'd watch it with him all day.

Favorite types of play currently involve a lot of pretending and they'll make up their own games as they go. You might want to keep a cheat sheet of pseudonyms handy to keep up. As I've mentioned, Celia is often Curly. She has also renamed every member of the family. Mikey is sometimes known as Moreo, who must be named to rhyme with his Daddy Oreo. Mommy is Flower (aww, sweet, right?) And my favorite is Xavier's nickname: Orange Peach Apple. I guess one sweet fruit wasn't sufficient to represent just how adorable this baby is! Moreo and Curly are sometimes found in closets, scratch that, I mean in their secret agent hideout AKA any walk-in closet. Your walk-in closet is the size of their room though, so they may choose a smaller space. If you find half of your wardrobe spilled all over the closet floor, you have to understand, it was all in the name of rescuing someone in need of help.

Curly and Moreo are calling me to go help swing them now. I'll fill you in on lunch, time-outs, the dangers of You Tube videos about lightning and Google images of scars, and teach you important songs like "Put Your Milk in the Frigalator."

Have I told you lately that you're the bravest people on the planet?! You'll have earned your next vacation and then some after these four days.

A Great Catch

Xavier James Collazo is going to be an excellent husband one day. I know, I know. I'm his mother, and I think everything he does is wonderful, amazing, brilliant, adorable. Well, yes, that's true. But it's also true that this baby is truly remarkable. So, let me make a few remarks about this kid. I can tell already what kind of man he's going to be just by what kind of baby he is. So, if you have a baby girl right now, keep an eye on this little prince. You'll be wanting him to invite her to prom. I'll elaborate.

This boy is the happiest, sweetest kid. He smiles so easily. When his favorite girl walks in the room, he lights up and makes her feel like a queen.

But he's not one-dimensional. Xavier knows how to express his feelings, and he's not afraid to cry.

And what prince is worth dreaming about if he's not handsome? Man, this boy is a handsome one! Blue eyes, nice head of hair, and a body that won't quit (growing that is). He's got a great build, not too slim. He'll make a girl feel protected with his size one day.

Athletic? Of course he is! Have you seen this kid kick that plastic ball on the kick-and-play?! Whoa, Nelly! Look out, NFL.

He's got a great sense of humor, too. Right now his preference is for slap-stick comedy like Daddy swooping baby down low to the ground all of a sudden or being tickled. But the machine-gun-like laughter that shoots from that baby's mouth is gold. Who doesn't want a man who will laugh at her jokes or make her laugh?

If it's smarts that mean the most to you, then look no further. Xavier may not be doing quadratic equations yet, but he's got intelligent eyes and follows everything that is going on. He'll be at the top if his class. I'm sure of it.

Oh, and he's easy to please. Feed him a little something you mix up with whatever you've got around the house, and he's happy as can be. He'll gaze at you like you hung the moon.

I'm quite sure he'll grow into a man who just goes with the flow. Right now he's happy to travel long distances without complaint, go shopping with me, or just hang around the house. It's all good. So long as his best girl is happy, he's happy.

OK, sure, all of this is just speculation, but it does seem like personalities show themselves early on in childhood. So, if my extrapolations are correct, moms, you should be trying to set up a betrothal to my son right away. He's going to be quite the catch!

Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper

When I think of the thousands of dollars represented by all of the oft-ignored toys piled in the kids' rooms, I wonder why we continue to do it when Celia and Mikey are currently playing with a variety of unopened cookie sprinkles who they have named Lela and Clara. They're having all kinds of adventures. Cost of sprinkles? $2.50. Not bad...except that they're replacing the seventy-nine adorable dolls on the shelf. I guess it's better for them to explore this imaginative effort than to make use of the Wizard of Oz collection that I obsessed over for a couple of weeks, eating disgusting Happy Meals to collect, and spending more time that I'd like to admit on eBay. Sigh.

But my very favorite game that these two are currently fond of is a game I simply refer to as "hands." Since there is a no-toys-at-the-table policy, they've resorted to turning their hands into characters who talk and play with each other when the meal is less than exciting to them. There's a Daddy hand who often calls the Celia hand on the phone. I need to pay more attention to what goes on in these ridiculous conversations, but generally, I've moved on to washing dishes or something slightly productive while their meal goes into hour twelve. If we're not in a hurry, I just let them engage in these adorable shenanigans because, come on, how cute and creative is that!

Another frequent mealtime game that they've invented that requires no toys is played in restaurants when awaiting our food's arrival. It's called Mrs. Pepper and Mr. Salt. I think they're a married couple who have insightful conversations with each other like, "Hey Mr. Salt, how are you doing today?" "I'm being good. Mrs. Pepper, do you want ice cream?" It's more clever than playing soccer with a balled up straw wrapper that ends up on the floor after a few attempts on goal, so I'm totally happy to let them have their fun. I'm waiting for them to discover the Splenda packets so the happy couple can have babies.

My point is that I need to settle the heck down with all the toys. They don't NEED them at all! I've heard many a parent remark that their kids are happier with the boxes that the gifts came in on Christmas morning, so why do we keep killing ourselves to get the perfect gifts? My theory is that cameras and scrapbooks are the culprit. I've posed so many pictures, dressed the kids in particular colors, and given them certain gifts with my scrapbook in mind. "Oh won't it be cute if Celia gets a Cabbage Patch Kid for Christmas? It'll be so adorable for that pink paper with the candy canes. Ooh, I'll title it Baby Love. Yes, she'll love it!" Celia tried unsuccessfully a few days ago to give that very doll to her cousin Leah. Leah didn't want it either. When will I ever learn? She'd rather have a toilet paper tube that she can draw a face on. Note to self: Start saving toilet paper rolls for next Christmas.

A Little Quirky

Mikey just turned three or as he told someone yesterday, "I'm turning into three!" That boy has some cute turns of phrase that crack up his adoring mommy. My favorite one is, when asked how he's doing, he always replies, "I'm being good." And he usually is.

So, he has a few quirky speech patterns, but that's not what alerted us at first that Mikey might be just a little bit different than the "typical" kid. We filled out a form that our pediatrician has all of his patients do when they turn 18 months old. The First Words Project people at FSU's Autism Institute asked us to bring him in because they noted some "red flags" on this form. Thinking that they would see my talkative little guy in person and dismiss him as completely fine, I took him in to a lovely, loving lady named Vicki. She told me that day that she noted some issues with a lack of gaze shift. His eye contact was atypical; he was very object focused. They wanted to do more evaluations of him. Usually, Autism isn't diagnosed until age three, but this study is working to identify early symptoms and do early interventions to help children progress as well as they possibly can.

After more evaluations, they decided that if they were to diagnose early, he would be on the Autism Spectrum, maybe with Aspergers or PDD-NOS, but probably a high-functioning form. Mike and I were shaken and surprised. I won't go into our initial reaction, but we were clearly upset that our sweet boy might have a harder time in life than his peers. And to be honest, we were saddened that our son might not be all that we dreamed he would grow up to be and that our relationship with him might be awkward rather than the affectionate, close bond that we hoped for.

There was room for him in the Early Social Interaction project that First Words was conducting and we met Miss Patricia when Mikey was about 19 months old. She worked intensely with us, three times a week, giving me lots of tips and techniques about how to encourage him to look us in the eye, engage us in play, and break away from repetitive behaviors. It was amazing the progress we saw in him in the nine months we worked with her. I call her my angel and she really became a best friend during that time. Mikey and Celia adored her, and when we see her still at the First Words building for Mikey's monthly updates, he goes right up and hugs her and tells her what he's been up to. She glows with pride knowing that she had something to do with those glorious social interactions.

We're now in a once-a-week playgroup there where we continue to get tips. Something that has been remarkable about the groups that we've been in is that they have made me grateful for the energetic, talkative, bright, affectionate boy that Mikey is. When I see the other boys and girl in the groups who barely speak, who flap and scream, I realize that Mikey's symptoms are pretty minor. When he plays with his sister and cousins, he Plays with a capital P, baby! He sometimes would rather play on his own or gets pretty mesmerized by a particular toy. He might ask the same question over and over until he gets his way. But over all, he's a great friend. He's kind and loving and forgiving. He is the kid who runs after relatives when they leave to give them a hug and a kiss. He's the one who asks for a cuddle all day long. He plays hide-and-seek and loves to swing. He adores Lightning McQueen and Mater and can't watch Max and Ruby too many times. To call him anything less than "typical" just doesn't seem right. He's a preschooler through and through!

If this is the face of Autism, then I'm OK with it. I'm in love with it, in fact. The face of Autism has snowy-white puffy cheeks and big brown eyes. Its face is full of surprise and awe when opening gifts, no matter how big or small. It wakes up with a happy grin and bed head caused from wearing a Santa hat all night in March. That face lights up when his siblings enter the room after being away from them for a bit. The face of Autism gives the sweetest kisses, even if sometimes they miss the mark of Mommy's cheek. And that sweet face brings more joy to his parents than anyone can imagine.

He might be a bit quirky, but who isn't? I noticed on American Idol last night, one of the judge's favorites was described as quirky. Is it more quirky that my four-year-old picks her toes every time we take off her socks or that Mikey learned his ABC's when he was 18 months old? Is it more quirky that I actually enjoy cleaning out my kids' ears or that Mikey asks to watch the same episode of Krypto the Superdog for a week? It might be just as quirky as his dad's obsession with cookie dough Ben and Jerry's, right? Hmm...maybe he comes by his quirkiness honestly.

Mikey has started the evaluation process with a psychologist now that he's age three. She'll determine if and where he falls on the spectrum. For the longest time, I just wanted to therapy our way off the spectrum, but I'm feeling more at peace and more hopeful about what kind of amazing life this brilliant kid will have. I've been praying that he'll "overcome Autism" for awhile now, but I think I need to alter that prayer. Instead, I pray that he'll embrace the differences that this syndrome offers him, that he'll use the gifts that he has to their fullest, and that he overcome the social obstacles with grace and dignity. And I thank God for this adorable and precious son He's blessed us with. Happy third birthday, Mikey, or as he'll tell you now with pride, "I'm Miguel Collazo the Fourth!"

Punctuality: A Lost Art

I'm sorry. I extend my apologies to everyone who has had to wait for my brood and me to show up to just about anything lately. In the past I always considered myself a punctual person. My dad always made sure we showed up to events at least ten minutes early if not much more. A nice cushion of time is reassuring to me. Traffic? No problem! I built in a cushion! But once baby number three came along, I can't seem to get our collective booties out the door in anything resembling a hurry. Just so that you'll be a bit more forgiving of me if you are left waiting, the following is a common about-to-leave-the-house scene at Casa Collazo.

Mommy: OK, kids, we've got a play date at Aunt Beth's house! Let's go swinging and see Daniel and Leah.

Kids: Yay! Will Daniel be home?! We can swing! Woohoo! (Note: It matters not if we're going somewhere super fun or to the doctor's office to get shots, the remainder of the conversation is going to go something like this.)

Mommy: Get your shoes on. Boy, am I glad I got up early to get dressed and packed up to go. We're supposed to be there in 45 minutes and it only takes 25 minutes to drive there. What a great cushion I've built in today! Go me!

Mikey: Where are my shoes?

Mommy: Have you looked in the trunk...where they always are? And did you move things around when you looked? (This trait starts early in men). ;)

Mikey: Oh, no. Mommy, can you get 'em?

Celia: I have to go potty!

Xavier: (Insert graphic pooping noises here).

Mommy: Celia, go quickly while I change Xavier. (Xavier proceeds to continue pooping while I try catching it in a sequence of three diapers. I change his pooped-on and spat-up-on clothes three times).

Mikey: MOMMMYYYY! Can I watch Superdog? Mommy, where are you? I want to watch the one with the iguana? Mommy? Mommy? Mommy?

Mommy: No, Mikey, we'll watch it when we get home. Oh, Mikey, did you poop, too?

Mikey: Hmm...let me check. (Touches diaper). Yes, I made a poopy. Can you change me, please?

Mommy: Yes, just a...

Celia: Mommy, the poopies are being shy. They don't want to see the pee pees in the potty.

Mommy: It's OK, Celia. Maybe you can wait and go at Aunt Beth's house.

Celia: NOOO, Mommy. I'll just wait. Mommy?

Mommy: Yes, sweetie.

Celia: I love you.

Mommy: I love you, too, baby.

Mikey: Have you seen Mater and Lighning McQueen?

Mommy: No, Mikey, you have to find your own toys.

Mikey: Help me find them, Mommy. Mommy, where are Mater and Lightning McQueen? Can you help me find them?

Mommy: I think they're on the train table. Go check.

Mikey: Mommy, can you do it?

Celia: Mommy, I'm done! Come wipe me!

Mikey: Ouch! I hurt myself. Mommy, can you cuddle with me?

Xavier: (gurgle, coo, burp, SPIT UP!)

Mommy: Where's the burp cloth? What time is it? Where's my phone? (dials) Beth, we'll be a little late again. Just love me anyway please.

So, I've learned now that if I'm in any kind of hurry, I have to just expect that everyone will need to clear their bowels, find a long-lost toy, and possibly need a good cuddle. And that's why we start getting ready to go everywhere 15 or 20 minutes early these days. I'm learning slowly, and I'm looking forward to the day when the only bathroom concerns I have are my own. In the meantime, I'll just savor the moment when they are all finally strapped in their car seats singing along to the Backyardigans CD.

Please bear with us for now and understand that our tardiness is not out of any form of disrespect on our part. And hopefully, when we show up you'll think better late than never and not regret inviting this bunch of rascals out.