Christmas Adventures Part 2

As I have blogged before, this was the first Christmas where little man understood all the fun things like Santa, reindeer, presents and the big family gathering with aunts, uncles and, of course, grandparents.

Christmas Eve little man awoke full of excitement. He knew it was the beginning of Christmas. He could barely sit still all morning and by the time we loaded up the car to head to Grammy Jo and Papa's house, he was about to explode.

After a fun night of playing with Uncle Lambo and Aunt KK and a tummy full from our Christmas Eve feast, little man did what I'm sure every other household in America with a toddler does on Christmas Eve - put out cookies and milk for Santa and sprinkle reindeer food outside on the snow.

After all, reindeer get hungry, too. Why should Santa be the only one to get treats?

{it was really just oatmeal and glitter, but fun nonetheless}

And after little man was nestled all snug in his bed, while visions of sugar plums danced in his head, the adults scrambled to put together little man's Christmas surprise.

I stuffed his stocking full of books, toys and candy.

Uncle Lambo braved the cold night to scoop up the reindeer food and leave hoof prints in the snow.

And daddy and Papa assembled the BIG surprise.

The Santa present.

The gift that little man had been pining for.

The present he so proudly told Santa he wanted for Christmas.

Spike, the Ultra Dinosaur.

When little man awoke on Christmas day, all of the adults were assembled, cameras in hand.

And as I brought little man up the stairs and turned the corner his eyes caught a glimpse of it.

He paused.

Then giggled.

Then exclaimed, "A DINOSAUR!"

He slowly walked to it, giggling the entire way.

Amazed, shocked and excited, little man didn't know what to do next.

Fortunately, daddy liked playing with Spike, too, and had already logged some playtime on it. He snatched up little man and began his tutorial of the remote control buttons.

As the morning passed and little man ate his fill of cookies and opened his new arsenal of toys, there was just one more surprise left.

Peering out Grammy Jo and Papa's glass front door, he stopped. His eyes began to sparkle.

And then, he pointed.

"The reindeer food is gone, momma," little man said with amazement. "The reindeer ate all the food."

He then turned to me with a smile. His face gleamed.

"Yes, buddy," I said. "Santa's reindeer came and ate it all up."

Cowboy Up

It was a dark and bitterly cold night. When suddenly, I heard a sound. On the horizon I saw someone approaching. The dark figure was a bit small in stature, with a hat black as night ...

He rode a gallant steed, pure black but for a small white diamond on his broad head and a scarlet bandanna around his neck...

As he got closer I got a better look at this stranger ... would he be friend or foe?

Definitely friend. It was a cowboy - passing through on his horse. Where he was going to? Only he knew ...

And just as quickly as he came, he left. Disappearing into the night ...



And as I watched him gallop past and onto his mysterious destination, he paused just long enough for me to get a look at him.

And then he tipped his hat to me and went on his way.
The cowboy way.

Birthday Countdown ... The Conclusion

When I left my first Birthday Countdown post, I was leading up to little man's super-fun, so exciting it can't even be wrapped, big boy birthday present.

A gift that heralded little man's official transition (at least in mommy's eyes) from baby to big boy.

A gift that meant moving the family heirloom rocking horse out of his room to make way for his new big boy present.

So, without further adieu, I give you ...

{Nemo}

{And Dory}

{the fishies}

When I was growing up, we always had pets. My childhood is filled with memories of our own fish tank, my hamster and the many dogs that have been a part of my life. Even though we do have our lovable family dog, Casper, I wanted little man to have something of his own. And after many hints, discussions and me promising I would take full responsibility for the new aquatic family members, my husband finally acquiesced. Then again, I also know full well that in his mind he rationalizes it as the lesser of two evils, being as my first little man pet campaign involved talk of a new puppy.

And, as heartbreaking as moving the rocking horse into the basement was (at least until we have reason to move it back out again), my sadness was quickly turned to joy when I saw little man's eyes light up when we introduced him to his new fish tank, which now sits where his rocking horse did.

"Fishies!" He squealed. "MY fishies!"

He then promptly named them Nemo and Dory.

And so our little family has grown once again. And at night when I tuck little man in, there are now two new family members I must also say goodnight to as I turn off the light and shut little man's door.

Happy Holidays from me, my husband, little man, Casper
and Nemo and Dory.

Birthday Boy!

{Birth Day!}

{First Birthday}

{Second Birthday}

{Third birthday and third piece of cake, hence the sugar gaze and no fork}

Birthday Countdown

The cake has been ordered.

The presents have been wrapped (at least the ones we could wrap).

The celebration has been planned.

And little man is increasingly aware that his birthday is Sunday.

Too bad he was just diagnosed with croup AND strep.

My poor baby. Talk about a way to ring in your third birthday, eh?

One thing little man will have to deal with throughout his life is the fact that his birthday is just four days before Christmas. As such, I am almost militant about making his birthday special - no Christmas wrapping paper on birthday presents. No Santa birthday cakes. No Christmas/birthday dual gifts.

None. Of. It.

Little man is almost hyper-aware this year that his birthday is upon us.

"Mommy, my birthday coming," little man said to me the other night.

"I know, what do you want for your birthday?" I asked.

"Birthday cake. I want cake," he said.

Fortunately for me, there will be a Cars birthday cake awaiting me at the bakery Friday at Noon.

There is also a super-exciting, so special it can't even be wrapped, birthday present hidden in our house.

A present that marks the fact that little man isn't a baby any more.

A present that may even top Santa's Spike the Ultra Dinosaur on Christmas morning.

What is it?

To be continued ...

Santa

"I want a dinoswaur for Christmas, Santa."

{Little man and his friend Avonte' at their preschool Christmas party}

The Division Between Us and Them

One of my favorite stories (and probably my most popular blog post) is the post An Ode to the Moms of Boys. In it I become ever-so-aware that there is still a very vast difference between boys and girls.

Like peeing while standing up.

The other night I was getting little man ready for his bath. Still in the throes of potty-training, I plopped little man on the toilet to go "pee-pee in the potty like a big boy" before getting into the tub.

"No mommy. I go pee-pee there," little man said as he pointed to the bathtub next to him.

"No, we go pee-pee here, on the potty," I replied.

"No mommmmmmmy!" Little man said. "I want to go pee there!"

Then little man (who was in his birthday suit) got off the toilet.

"I go like this .... pssssssssssssshhhhhhhh," he said as he acted out the act of ....

I think you get the idea.

I put him back on the toilet.

"No, we don't pee in the tub," I said between giggles. "We only go pee-pee in the potty."

"No, I pee in tub," little man said. "Like a boy. Girwls pee on potty."

I think I need to speak to my husband about this one.

Christmas Adventures Part 1

Over the weekend we ventured out to get our family Christmas tree. Little man was overly excited to hear the news, of course.

"We get Christmas tree?" Little man asked me.

"Yeah, we're going right now, let's go!" I said.

"YAY! We get Christmas tree for Santa!" Little man exclaimed.

When we found our tree and loaded it up, little man was even more excited than before. The entire ride home he told us all about how the Christmas tree was for Santa and how he wanted Santa to bring him a dinosaur for Christmas.

Later that night as I began bringing the barrage of Christmas decorations up from the depths of our basement, little man's excitement was almost too much for him to bare.

Of course, like any hard-headed, stubborn and testing toddler, little man insisted that he be the only one to put ornaments on the tree.

Too bad he didn't understand that you can't put all of the ornaments on the same branch, which was also approximately 3 feet from the bottom of the tree (aka perfect little man height).

He also didn't understand why mean old mommy wouldn't let him swing around and bang the German glass ornaments she received as a wedding present many years ago.

I know, I'm a fun hater.

But, nonetheless, little man took pride in placing every ornament (at least every non-glass ornament) on the tree. With daddy's sneaky sense and quick maneuvering from here to there, we even managed to rearrange some ornaments so that all of our ornaments weren't on the bottom third of the tree.

Then came the presents.

The next morning it didn't take little man long to zero in on the presents that had appeared underneath the tree.

The presents, all wrapped in red and green Tonka truck Christmas paper, were all little man could even think about.

And I found myself uttering what all mothers find themselves constantly repeating this time of year.

Don't Touch!

However, little man always finds a way. If he's sitting near the tree, just one little finger will reach over and touch the shiny red bow.

If I'm watering the tree, he will come to "help." He'll gladly pull all of the presents away from underneath the tree for me.

And of course shake them, flip them over and inspect them as he does it.

I like to think he really is trying to help ... but I'm on to him.

And somehow, just somehow, I will from time to time walk into the living room and find a little wrapped box in the middle of the floor ... little man sitting innocently on the couch, as if he had no idea how it got there.

"What's in in mommy?" Little man will ask as I slide the box back under the tree.

"You need to wait until Christmas to find out," I say.

"Oh, okay," little man answers. "I wait till Christmas."

{approximately 1 minute later}

"Mommy? What's in it?"

The Name Game: UPDATE

In a previous post, I wrote about my attempts (in vain) to teach little man our last name, which lead to a confusing discussion between little man and I about what my name was.

The good news is that little man can now pronounce my first name clear as bell.

The bad news is he thinks it's a cookie.

My mother-in-law couldn't resist buying a bag of Desiree cookies to bring to our Thanksgiving get-together. She was so surprised to see something with my name on it that she had to buy them.

The German wafer cookies were a tasty addition to our smorgasbord of treats. And the assortment of vanilla and chocolate cookies were a big hit with little man.

I nearly stopped in my tracks when he yelled from the living room "Mommy, I want a DESIREE cookie."

It was so clear. So perfect. Just a few weeks ago he couldn't even begin to pronounce it.

I was a proud mommy.

"Say mommy's name again," I said to little man.

He looked at me confused.

"Desiree," I said, prompting him along.

"Desiree COOKIE," little man said. "I want Desiree cookie."

He pointed into the kitchen.

"Mommy, I want Desiree cookie. Please."

I guess I should be thankful that at least he associates my name with something sweet ... even if he thinks I'm a cookie.