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Sunday, November 25, 2012


Henry said something snarky at Grammy's tonight and I corrected him.

Mama: Henry, that's being rude.
Henry: I'm not being rude, Mama! I'm being SMART!

Ah, that unique mix of stifling laughter and channeling frustration that is frequently parenthood.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Lincoln Logs

Henry was all excited to show me his latest Lincoln-log creation when I got home from work tonight. It was actually quite impressive- intricately spread out all over his floor.

Henry: I made God so I can talk to him!!
Me: That's awesome, sweetheart.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

"My, What Sharp Teeth You Have"

Henry, Kat & Dada were all playing on the living room floor when for some reason, Henry & Kat started peering into Dada's mouth together.
Just what was so interesting? He has all his teeth, minus the wisdom ones, plus a couple of fillings. That must have been it.

Henry: Dada! You have no SKIN on your teeth!

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Childbirth, Dr. Quinn-style

I just watched "Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman" where she delivers her baby in the woods with her petrified husband by her side. Well-done overall and captures our society's stereotypical view of childbirth while getting some things exactly right.

I LOVE the scene where he's hovering over her in the middle of hard labor.
He asks, "What do I do?" and she answers "Nothing" between gritted teeth and shoves him away, "Don't touch me!" I remember that feeling of tight control, turning inward and thinking it could all be shattered by someone's touch.
In the next moment, the contraction passes (yeah, they're contractions, NOT "surges") and she wants him to hold her. He desperately seeks something useful to do and asks if he should build a fire and boil some water. Reminds me of a class discussion where my colonial history professor said if you ever notice that's what they always seem to tell men to do. "Boil water." It's a lengthy process perfect for keeping him occupied and away from the real work of labor & delivery.

My other favorite part, absolutely stereotypical, was when her husband looks at her panic-stricken, when told he was going to have to cut the cord. SERIOUSLY? She's delivering a baby in the middle of the woods with her FIRST AID KIT and you're all squeamish about cutting the umbilical cord? Way to man up.

My eyes prickled with tears so I would count that as an acceptable birth scene since I always cry when babies are born.

PJ Time

Time to get ready for bed. Brush teeth and change into pajamas. Depending on the weather, it's either fleece-footie PJs or a flannel 2-piece with optional socks.
Tonight was flannel and Henry had his mind made up about the socks.

Henry: Mama, I want to sleep with my toesies.
(OK, I knew what he meant but decided to have fun with it)
Mama: Where else would they sleep?
Henry: Um....on the couch!!!

The kid has an answer for everything.

Monday, November 12, 2012


So my husband and I had this conversation yesterday. As always, he's astounded by my innate survival instincts that fiercely protect my need for a good night's sleep.

Me: You look tired, honey.
Jim: I was up at 1:30 with the dog, not to mention Henry coming in at 3:00 and then Kathryn woke up at 6:20.
Me: What happened at 1:30?
Jim: A thunderstorm??!!
Me: Huh, I slept right through it. Must have been REALLY tired.

Except when the kids are sick. WHOLE different story. Sleep skillz are immediately replaced by hyper-Mama alert. I half listen to every sneeze & snuffle all night and I emerge in the morning looking like I spent the night curled up with the Nyquil bottle.