Heartbreak

For Christmas this year, one of the things the little man really wanted was a big swirly lollipop for his stocking. While we don't normally indulge him with superfluous amounts of sugary, sticky treats, Santa did come through this year and the little man awoke Christmas morning to a swirly lollipop hanging from his sock.

With all of the Christmas fun and excitement, the swirly pop got packed away in a pile of presents that morning while the little man enjoyed his new green steam engine and time with his little cousin.

When we arrived home just a few days later, we unloaded the hoard of presents from the car and slowly began finding a new home for all of the new things. As I pulled out the swirly pop from a box, the little man's eyes widened and asked if he could finally eat it. I figured there was no better time like the present and handed the little man his gift.

The little man was oh-so-proud of his swirly pop. He savored every lick and took pride in showing me, daddy and our dog, Casper, the sugary concoction. He held it tightly in his little hands, his face covered in bright sugar stickiness the entire morning.

As the husband and I were working in the kitchen on a little project, the little man wandered in. I heard his little footsteps on the hard wood floor.

Then I heard a boom.

And a crash.

And the sound of something shattering.

The shattering was the little man's swirly pop.

And his heart.

He had apparently stumbled and fell while walking, thus dropping the swirly pop. As soon as it hit the hard wood floor, it shattered into a 100 tiny pieces.

I ran to the little man and picked him up as he was crying.

He was fine; but the swirly pop was not.

"I bwooooke it!" the little man stammered through tears. "My swirleeee pop!"

Tears ran down his face. It was by far the most traumatic thing the little man had ever seen.

I began to clean up the mess as the little man stared on. Sobbing.

The stick of the lollipop still had a little nub of sucker on it. I picked it up, then picked up the little man and carried him away from the horrific sight on the floor.

He snuggled against me on the couch. I finally dried off his face and showed him the stick.

"Look, you still have a little sucker left here - it's not all gone," I said in hopes of cheering him up.

The little man stared blankly at the lollipop stick.

"Here," I said as I tried to put it into his little hand.

"No," he said softly. "I'll just wait until Santa brings me a new one next year."

And then mommy's heart broke.

I hugged the little man and handed him his favorite stuffed dinosaur.

And made a mental note to find the biggest, brightest swirly pop for next Christmas.

{RIP Swirly Pop}

Holiday Cheer

This Christmas season, the little man was full of curiosity, excitement and questions.

"Mama, why is snow white?"

"Why is snow cold?"

"Why is snow flat?"

"Do the reindeers like the snow?"

"Why doesn't Santa come through the front door?"

In addition to a nearly constant barrage of questions about Santa, elves, reindeer and the snow, the little man was also very certain of three things:

1. That he was on Santa's nice list.

2. That he wanted a little green steam engine train.

3. That he also wanted a big swirly lollipop in his stocking.

I was sure that - like all things preschooler - the little man would change his mind a hundred times between Thanksgiving and Christmas regarding what present he wanted from Santa.

But I was wrong.

The little man was adamant that he wanted a little green steam engine and a swirly lollipop.

So, as the Christmas slowly approached, the little man's excitement grew and grew. I thought for sure his birthday would serve as a good distraction (which it did for about a day) but to the little man, Christmas was not coming fast enough.

And when the day finally came to load up the car and head to Nana's house, we were met with squeals of delight.

So we loaded up the presents, assured the little man one last time that Santa would know he was spending the night at Nana's house and headed out on our way.

That night, the little man could barely stand it. His excitement kept him awake, but he tried desperately to fall asleep, for he knew that the elves would check on him to make sure he was asleep before Santa came to deliver his little green steam engine and swirly lollipop that he so wanted.

Christmas morning, with wide blue eyes and a heart full of anticipation, the little man slowly climbed the stairs to the living room from where he had been sleeping in the basement.

The milk had been drunk.

The cookies had been eaten.

There were hoof prints in the snow.

And, of course, a shiny new little green steam engine and a bright swirly lollipop hanging in his stocking.

And a family full of Christmas magic and cheer as we saw the smile creep across the little man's face.

{Twas the Night Before Christmas ...}

{Per the little man, Santa needed chocolate milk}

{And cookies and carrots for the reindeer}


{The little man carefully climbs the stairs ...}

{And what did he find?}

{A little green steam engine ...}

{And a new track and train to go with it}

{And, of course, a swirly lollipop}

{But there were also oh-so-many-more gifts to open ...}

{And many more toys to discover ...}

{And then came this ...}

{Forget the train ... Chainsaws are so much cooler}

Merry Christmas!

"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store.
"Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!"

-How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Dr. Seuss

Above is one of my most favorite Dr. Seuss lines. So simple, yet so true. Here's wishing you a very joyous holiday season and a happy, HAPPY new year!

The Little Man Turns 4!

It's hard to believe that is was four years ago that the little man entered our lives. It is true when they say that these years go by so fast. And while I still remember him as my little seven pound, three ounce little bundle of baby, it is still so fun to see the little man growing into his own person.

My lack of posting as of late is entirely due to the little man's birthday, the holidays and my need to be super mom. Because the little man's birthday is so close to Christmas, I am determined that his day be special, and not lumped into Christmas.

The little man has a great gift about him - he instantly makes friends with all that he meets and loves nothing more than being around his friends and other people. As the year has gone by, I have seen the little man form more and more friendships with the kids in his preschool class. So, as his birthday approached, I took a deep breath and uttered the words "Birthday Party" one day to my husband.

We both knew the little man would love nothing more than a birthday party to share with all of his friends. We also both knew that there was no way our house could possibly entertain that many 4-year-olds.

The solution? A private party room filled with gigantic inflatable bounce houses at a nearby mall.

And it was genius.

As the RSVP's rolled in, the excitement grew. Before long we had more little friends coming than we could believe. As each day passed, the little man would ask if this was the day of his party. He could barely stand the wait.

And then the day finally came.

As his little friends arrived the anticipation grew. Then, they finally opened the doors to the party room. Before we knew it, there was laughing, bouncing and smiles as far as the eye could see.

When the kids had their fill of bouncing, laughing, climbing and laughing, we then herded them up and capped the fun-filled afternoon with little man's very own chocolate Thomas the Train cake.

It was the perfect way to end the perfect day for the little man.

Thankful

It's not hard for me to think of a hundred things I am thankful for this year.

I am mostly thankful for that.

Thanksgiving 2005 marked an ominous date for me. At the time pregnant with the little man, it was the date that my doctors said would be a miracle if I made it to. None of them were betting that I would be able to carry him much further than Thanksgiving. And while Thanksgiving was a better scenario than the one I faced just two months prior (the first time we were hospitalized), Thanksgiving was still much too soon.

Now, four years later, I stumbled into the little man's dark room this morning. I felt his arms around my neck and felt his head snuggle into my shoulder. It still felt just as good as the very first moment I held him and he snuggled his little newborn head against me.

I am thankful for my miracle.

I am thankful for another year of adventures in mommyhood and my awesome husband for sharing in each laugh and priceless moment along the way.

I am also thankful for my family, both immediate and extended; the older I get, the more I understand the true gift family is in our lives.

I am thankful for my friends, near and far, and all that they bring to my life.

I am thankful for my new baby niece, who is set to make her big debut any day now. I am thankful that my big brother and his amazing wife will soon feel the arms of their own child around their neck and the feeling of her soft head as she snuggles into their shoulder.

And I am thankful for you.

I began this blog at the suggestion of a dear friend of mine and fellow writer. It began as a way for me to expand my own writing horizons and branch out into a new style of writing for me. I had no idea that anyone would actually read it, and I had no idea that I would receive such amazing support in my blogging endeavors. Thank you for sharing in my adventures with me.

Happy Thanksgiving from my family to yours.

Introducing ...

One Saturday afternoon, we were out and about running our usual weekend errands. We ventured into one of the little man's favorite stores - Petsmart - for a quick trip to grab some food for our dog, Casper.

But there is no such thing as a "quick" trip into Petsmart with the little man in tow.

I had anticipated this, so while the husband broke off to find the dog food, the little man and I made the usual rounds of the store - starting with the reptiles, then on to the birds, then the hamsters and finally the wall of fish.

As we were looking at all of the brightly colored fish swimming about, something caught the little man's eye.

{Of course it didn't help that the tank was right at the little man's eye level.}

It was a tank of little red crabs. The little man's eyes lit up as he watched the little crabs meander about the tank.

"Look mommy!" he said. "They have snappy claws!"

The little man sat and watched the little crabs, giggling at their ever move. I glanced down at the bottom of the tank and saw that the little creatures also had a very small price tag.

Later that night at dinner, the little crabs were all that the little man could talk about. Since we already had Nemo and Dory, an idea came to mind.

And then I made the little man a deal.

"Hey, buddy," I said leaning across the table to him. "I'll make you a deal - if you practice spelling your name really, really hard and can spell your name without any help from mommy, then I'll buy you a crab."

The little man's eyes widened. His little mind immediately raced with all the letters of the alphabet. He knew how his name started, but was still a bit shy about spelling the entire name on command.

The next few days were spent going over and over the spelling of his name. It was a mere week later that he was spouting it out all on his own, any time someone asked him to do it.

It was time for mommy to pay up.

We loaded in the car and headed back to the pet store. The little man was bursting with excitement.

He even had his crab named ... Gigi.

He ran into the store. "Gigi, I'm comin'!" he squealed as he burst through the doors.

He immediately ran to the tank with the crabs. Finally, a man came and asked us if we needed help.

"Yes, we need a red crab," my husband said.

"OK, and you have a tank set up?" the man asked.

"Yes," we replied in unison.

"And it's one it can't crawl out of?" said the man.

"Yes," we again replied in unison.

"Great, and it has a place to crawl out of the water?" the man asked.

We stood in silence. The man could probably tell by the look on our faces that the answer was no.

"These little crabs can't stay submerged in the water, they need to be able to crawl out of it every once in a while," he said.

My husband and I looked at each other. Below us, just at our feet, was our son pointing out the very crab he wanted.

"Mommy's fired," my husband finally murmured.

We had anticipated putting the crab in our fish tank. We had not anticipated a whole other aquarium.

But we had already promised the little man.

We tried in vain to convince the little man that a snail or aquatic frog (both who could live harmoniously with our fish) were much more fun that Gigi the crab. But it was futile.

"No! They don't have snappy claws," the little man said with tears in his eyes, making little snappy crab claws out of his hands.

We were stuck. And neither of us had the heart to go back on our word to the little man.

So, we drew in a deep breath and called the pet store worker over once more.

"Yes, we need one of those red crabs."

{Fortunately, crab habitats also come with little price tags - my only saving grace from the wrath of the husband.}

And with that, the newest member of our family ventured home with us.

Gigi the Crab.

Iscream

We were all snuggled up in our beds asleep when suddenly the husband and I heard the little man scream from his room.

It wasn't the normal I just woke up and want mommy or daddy yell, it was a gut-wrenching, sobbing, something is very wrong scream.

My husband jumped out of bed and ran down the hall to see what was wrong. The little man was in his bed, sobbing. He was so upset he could barely catch his breath.

"What's wrong buddy?" my husband asked as he reached down to pick the little man up.

The little man was so upset we could barely make out the words.

Finally, the little man calmed down enough that he could tell daddy what was wrong.

He had a bad dream.

"Oh, buddy," my husband said. "Did you see a monster?"

"No," the little man whimpered.

"What was it then? What was so scary?" my husband asked.

The little man quietly began his story. His dream was vivid and terrifying.

"The ice cweeeam truck," he stammered out, his face still red with tears. "It wouldn't stop. It just kept dwiving away. And I wanted it to stop so I could get an ice cweeeam."

And with that, my husband gave the little man a hug and snuggled him back into bed.

"You dream about eating a great big ice cream cone," he said. "A really, really big one."

A few seconds later the little man was snoring away once more.

No doubt dreaming of gigantic ice cream cones.