Birthday Present

do blatt do blatt

These noises ricochet up the stairs from the basement, the playroom where the drum set now resides.

dum digga digga digga digga

Everett is practicing, the last task on his list of daily must-dos: homework, make bed, put away clean clothes, feed the cats, etc.... Practice the drums.

dig-uh dig-uh duh

The drum kit was The Gift for his tenth birthday, the Biggest Birthday between birth and sixteen, the Double-Digits, the big one-oh.

bidda badda boom

And when your birthday falls two days after Christmas, your loved ones have to work extra hard to make sure your birthday feels Special, and Important, and, well, Special.

Crash!

Especially when you're turning ten. 10.

Trouble is, we forgot, when ordering the drum kit, to have it sent to Someone Else's Address. This would have been Smart. And it would have prevented What Happened, which was that we arrived home from school on a mid-December afternoon, and the UPS truck was just pulling away from the driveway, and the Middle Child Whose Birthday Was Quickly Approaching was the first one out of the van and asked me to toss him the house key on his way to the front door. And I didn't think anything of it.

So when he got to the bottom of the front steps, There Was the Drum Kit, in its box, with pictures of its contents all over said box for Everyone To See.

digga digga digga dum

We debated for a few hours. Do we put the kit away? Hide it in the storage room until December 27th and hope that he forgets about it? He's ten, not two. Tell him it was a mistake?

do-blatt do-blatt do-blatt do

No, we give him his Biggest 10th Birthday Present Early, so that he has it to enjoy Before Christmas, Before His Birthday.

bidda badda bidda badda bidda badda boom

I'll confess to being pretty darned disappointed with the way it all turned out. I wanted it to be this Grand 10th Birthday Surprise.

But he doesn't seem fazed by it in the least.

digga digga digga digga Crash!

No, as far as he's concerned, it's all good:

"Good night, San Francisco!"

My patented* lose your baby weight diet

1. Live in a two-story townhome with no downstairs bathroom.
2. Work on potty training your toddler, which will inevitably lead to at least 14 trips up and down the stairs each day, usually in emergency situations where you have to heft the child and run up the stairs (this is good for your glutes and quadriceps).
3. Have a four month old who is going through the "I'm tired of playing on the floor, pick me up and play with me!" phase. (This works the shoulders and arms)
4. Forget to eat breakfast and lunch, and when you remember, eat a bowl of cereal while standing up and holding the baby. Remember to make dinner only because your husband comes home and distracts the children so you can cook. Possibly eat dinner, depending on the moods of said toddler and baby.
5. Sleep? Who needs it. Spend your nights rocking, pacing, feeding, etc.

The weight should be gone in no time!
*not actually patented, but perhaps this will make me rich! :)

Milk, Boobs, & Burritos

I feel a little nervous about blogging since this is my first time. And I haven't written anything except e-mails in a very long while. So, all you amazing writers, bear with me!

My husband and I traveled to the east coast for the holidays with our 10-week old son. I am exclusively breastfeeding and I had a couple encounters with very curious kids while engaged in the act:

My 8 year-old nephew: "What are you doing?"
I explain how God gave mothers a special way to feed their children (etc).
He replies, "So milk comes out?"
Me: "Yep."
Him: "Cool! Can you make burritos come out!?"

My 4 year-old nephew, pointing to my breasts: "Hey, my mommy has those things!"
Coming in closer for a better view, "Wow, you let him chew on them!?"

I swear, La Leche League should pay me! :)

Sir-Milks-A-Lot

It was Day Two home with new Baby Sister Annie. I was sitting on the couch nursing her while Big Sister Elli played on the floor. Taking a break from her playtime, Elli decided to oversee some of the feeding session, but needed to get some anatomy straight first (one's body really changes after pregnancy, you know). Pointing to my, ahem, engorged chest, she said, "Mommy's hiney?"
What can I say? Baby got back.

The Elephant in the Room...and Other Idioms

Those of you who know me--and I suspect anyone who reads this blog does--know that I lost my daughter just over a month ago. If you're a blog reader who doesn't know my story, here's where you can get caught up: Eliza's blog. But life with a five-year-old doesn't stop just because life with a very sick almost-three-year-old does. And I'm grateful for the routine--and chuckles--that come with it.

We've been talking a lot about idioms lately. In case you're rusty on your literary terms, an idiom is not, as my dad likes to say, the cousin of an idiot. It's an expression. Sometime in the past few months, Luke decided to start wondering about all those very-common-but-really-quite-illogical expressions we adults use without even thinking about it. Hit the road. Cat's got your tongue. Beat around the bush. Drop the ball. Play it by ear. If you don't believe me, trying paying attention to how many idioms you use in a day--or even in an hour--one time. If you're anything like me, you'll lose count.

So a very frequent answer to lots of questions around our house is, "It's just an expression that means...". And, apparently, Luke is catching on.

In the car the other day, he was describing something to me--and I confess that my foggy brain has lost track of exactly what it was--but it was really Big. Maybe it was a school project...or something he read about in a book...or something he dreamed about. Anyhow, it was something Big. As big, he explained to me, as a popsicle.

I waited a minute for the explanation. Nothing. So I asked.

"What do you mean, as big as a popsicle?"

Came the answer from the back seat, with a smile on his face that I couldn't see but could hear in his voice: "Expression!"

Right. Of course. Naturally. Or some other idiom.
As in, Mama might just be the cousin of an idiom.