Mornings

Mornings used to be my time to myself, and for a long time I fought sharing that time with Michael.  I wanted to yell at him, "MINE!" and tell him to go away.  I suppose I could have, but it just would've made him cry, and listening to a crying baby isn't really the kind of "me time" I like in the morning (or at any time of day).  Then finally it dawned on me that someday I will miss this.  Really.  So I decided to embrace the early morning madness.  And sleep deprivation aside, it's made a huge difference.  I look forward to our very early morning excursions, at least as much as one can look forward to taking a walk so early it's sometimes still dark when we get back.  Michael definitely loves them too, and we do get to see a lot of things in the dark that we didn't see before.  One day last week we saw the first passenger flight of the morning leaving the airport. (Our airport only uses four gates.  I feel safe in making this claim.)  The jet passed low overhead with all of its lights on.  We had to stop for a minute and watch that bad boy.  I think Michael's jaw actually dropped open in amazement.  Another morning the moon was out and Michael pointed and exclaimed, "Moooon!" each time it came back into view.  Then he spent the rest of the morning going through his books at home looking through his books for pictures of the moon.  Maybe sharing my mornings isn't all bad.

Morning Adventure

Jillian Michaels has nothing on my children.  Talk about tough trainers!  Ree used to beg me to work out so she could play in the "tunnels" that I made with my body while doing yoga.  While doing strength training she would also tell me, "Mom, you need to get your weights.  The ladies on TV are using weights."  Not following the teacher is a cardinal sin to a preschooler, so she would repeatedly tell me until I gave in and hauled out the weights.

These days if I get to work out at all, it's first thing in the morning.  And given that I go to work at 7:30, that requires getting up very early, and I am just not that motivated at that hour.  However, Michael has taken up where his sister left off, and he makes sure I am up bright and early.  This morning he first checked in at 5:38.  I battled him back to bed and got him quietly tucked in at 5:49.  My alarm had been set for 6:00, but since it was quiet in the house, I reset the alarm for 6:30 and promptly went back to sleep.  At 5:58 Michael started screaming.  His biological clock is a bit too good.

So, by 6:08, I was dressed, I had Michael's diaper changed, and we were out the door for our morning walk.  I have to admit, once I get going, I do enjoy this time.  I get a little exercise before work, and Michael and I get a little time alone together.  I also don't have to worry about either of us getting sunburned, and it's nice to watch the neighborhood wake up (although I've reached the conclusion that Monday through Friday, most people wake up either grouchy or angry).  It's also a fun time to explore.

We had some nasty storms yesterday afternoon, and this morning we got to survey the damage.  When I pulled into the neighborhood yesterday on my way home from work, I noticed there was a high water sign.  I thought that was unusual.  I'd see the main street flood before, but there had never been a sign.  I also had to laugh because it was the shortest sign ever.  Apparently they wanted you to know the exact height of the water.

The first thing I noticed this morning was puddles everywhere, including quite a few deep ones in the middle of the street.  (I can't help but wonder why this street slopes down in the middle.  Seems like some odd engineering...)

Instead of dirt, our soil is black sand, and the sidewalk was pretty much covered in it this morning.

Yes, it was also trash day today.  Michael loves "off-roading" as we veer around all the gigantic 95-gallon trashcans.

Finally, we discovered the real problem.  The water line was waaay up in some people's yards.  Yikes.

The picture is a little dark because, well, it was still kinda dark out, but there are four rows of lines in this yard from the water cresting and receding.

Our yard was mercifully free of damage.  I am glad we live at the top of a "hill."  It's going to be an interesting rainy season.

He Can Walk!

Sometimes I am just so stinkin' proud of my kids.  They really make me want to gush.  Which I am about to do.  Sorry.  At least you were warned.  But sometimes, when you get past the snot and the screaming and the general mayhem, you realize they really are the most amazing little creatures.

Right now Michael is practically making me swoon because he walked across the backyard on Sunday.  I know, I know.  It doesn't sound like much.  But for him, this is HUGE.  Leon started pulling up Thanksgiving weekend, and he took his first step on Christmas.  I'm not sure when he started actually walking since that didn't coincide with a holiday, but it happened.  (It stinks to not be the first child.  And a twin.  No milestones will be remembered for these poor little guys.) 

But Michael never had any interest in the whole walking thing.  It wasn't that the tried and failed; he just didn't bother to try.  You could see what he was thinking.  Why walk when crawling works just fine?  (Plus there's the fact that he thinks he's a dog.)

Crawling was fine when it was cold and nasty out.  Crawling was great when all he had to do was maneuver inside the house.  But then it got warm outside.  Our big snow was the weekend of Valentine's Day (again with the holidays.  Sad, huh?) and the following weekend was gorgeous.  We finally had temperatures in the 60s - normal Wilmington winter.  So we headed outside.  On Saturday we played in the backyard.  Sunday the whole family headed to the beach.  Michael spent a lot of time watching his brother and sister run around the yard and on the beach.  You could just watch the wheels turn in Michael's head.  He had to get in on the fun.

So starting the next day, Michael put some serious effort into walking.  Every night after dinner he would spend 30 minutes walking in circles from the living room through the kitchen pushing various ride-on toys and walkers.  He was even willing to walk holding my fingers, something Leon always refused to do.  Michael was determined.  But then he started teething, and the poor little guy got nine teeth all at once.  Yes, NINE.  Then we were all struck by the stomach bug from hell that knocked us out of commission for four days.  Then Michael got better and his body could focus its efforts on getting all of his boulder size teeth through his gums.  That led to The Worst Night EVER.  Seriously.  I thought the night when we were all uber-sick with the stomach nasties was bad.  I ended up sleeping in the living room with the kids because I could at least hold down Gatorade, which meant I was way better off than Jeff.  And I had the kids all in one place because at bedtime Michael was still puking every 15 minutes and Ree wasn't doing much better.  Poor Leon didn't know what was going on, but it was just easier to have him with us.  But we made it through that night.  And it was still better than The Worst Night EVER.

On the WNE, Michael would SCREAM for an hour and a half, pass out for another hour and a half or so, and then wake up and do it all over again.  And nothing would console him.  His body laughed at ibuprofen and Orajel.  He had no interest in teethers or cold wash cloths.  He was so miserable he was even turning down popsicles.  At 4:00 a.m. I had him in the sling and was jiggling him up and down while rocking him side to side and watching an Elmo DVD.  And he was still miserable.  And so was I.  As though we hadn't been through enough, I had the flu and was running a fever and just wanted to crawl in bed for, oh, about two weeks, and Michael, of course, only wanted Mommy to take care of him.

But we survived that too.  And the following night, Michael slept for 13 hours straight.  Just passed out.  I don't know if he even changed positions during the night.  And when he woke up, he was a beautiful butterfly.  Wait.  Sorry.  Too much Very Hungry Caterpillar.  But when he woke up, his teeth had all broken through the gums, which seems to be the worst part, and he was free to work on walking.

And that's what he did.  Over the last week, he has walked and walked and walked until he was able to walk across a room.  On Saturday we went outside, and he watched everyone else run and play, but he still wasn't ready to try his balance on the grass.  But on Sunday, he took off and walked about six feet from the kids' picnic table in the yard to the patio.  And he was so proud of himself!  He did it!  He was playing like all the other kids!  He just beamed.  And so did I.

Boys, boys, boys

Now that he can walk without support, Leon spent all week walking.  Every waking minute.  Actually, that's not entirely true.  He took breaks from walking to eat, and boy did he put away some food this week!  He may be the littlest one in the family, but right now he is the biggest eater.

Michael's walking continues to improve, and he is getting where he too can fly through the house as long as he is pushing something for support.  However, last weekend I moved the boys' books from a bookshelf where they were out of their reach to a basket on the living room floor, and he spent most of the week reading.  My favorite moments were when he was truly "reading" by himself.  The first came last Sunday.  He pulled a book out of the basket that was filled with photographs of cats.  As he looked at each page, he said "cat" and his eyes grew a little larger as he realized he "read" another page in the book.  By the end of the book, he was frantically flipping forward and backward through the book, realizing he could "read" every page.  A couple of nights ago, I saw him flipping through another book.  It contains all the lyrics to "If You're Happy and You Know It," which is one of the boys' favorite songs.  Michael would turn a page, bounce up and down, and then clap.  Then he would do the same thing on the next page.  You could tell exactly what was going on in his head.  He was dancing through the words, and then clapping at the appropriate times.  He didn't need someone reading it to him!