hidden meanings

So, I think I've written about the reasons behind melt-downs before. Noah has had so few melt-downs in the past year that I thought we were through with them. Not so.

Let me define melt-down here. Noah's usually begin when he doesn't get his way about something. The other day he was mad because I made him take the elevator with me instead of taking the stairs (we had Molly in the stroller with us!). Last night he was mad because no one was available to duel with him with light sabers. (I was bathing a very tired Molly, and Marc was doing the dishes before heading out to a hockey game.) After we'd said no to him a number of times and explained the reasons, his disappointment got more vocal and his ranting branched out to other areas. Nothing you say can make him happy at this point.

Last night, after complaining very vocally about not being able to duel with anyone, he started in on complaining about the current sleeping arrangements. He wants his old bed back, and he wants Molly to sleep in the crib. He is going to smash the bunk beds to get his way. (I told him that if he did that, he would have to pay me back for the beds since I bought them and that that would take a long time and that he would never be able save up for Star Wars Lego.) So, he was going on and on and on. By this point, I was not answering him anymore. Best to say nothing really. Then he said it. The little clue that made sense of the return of the melt-down. He said, "Lots of things have changed around here". Ah, all at once, everything is so clear. It's about a little guy adjusting to big changes in his life, going to school all day, becoming a big brother for the second time. He is also adjusting to not being the only big kid in the house since Molly is now doing lots of big girl things. Sometimes it just comes together.

learning

One of biggest mysteries about kids is why, when they are really really really looking forward to something, they behave in such a way as to make you wish you had never mentioned said event (or planned it!). Birthday parties are the worst. Noah was pretty crazy on Saturday, and was not going to be distracted with any of his usual pursuits. He was only happy when he was talking about or doing something related to the party. So, I think I am learning that surprises are more fun for adults than they are for kids.

Here is an example. If Marc were to send me flowers, out of the blue for no reason, I would be delighted, definitely more delighted than if I had to tell him which florist to call and what flowers I would like and when. Reasonable, right?

When I bring home something for Noah as a surprise, he always asks, "why did you get me this? I wish it was a _____". OK, well he doesn't always say that, and with a little prompting, he does eventually say thank you. He likes to know what's going on, and he likes to be in charge. Also reasonable. He's 6, he's not in charge of too much!

So, after putting up with some bad behaviour and a number of time outs, the solution became clear. I got Noah involved in the party preparations. We had a great time making the Death Star game board. We printed a picture of the Death Star we found online, then Noah cut it out and glued it to a piece of black poster board. Then he and I put star stickers all around it. I had planned to print out little x-wing fighters as game pieces, but Noah volunteered to draw them all. It kept him busy for a good half hour. He drew them in different colours. When he was tired of x-wings, he started drawing Naboo star fighters and pod racers. (At the party, he was so proud to pass them out to all his friends.) We found a great website with coloured masks we could print, so we did a bunch of those for decorations. Noah cut them all out, and taped them to the wall. He was so cheerful and pleasant. Lesson learned.

well and truly

Noah's sixth birthday has been well and truly celebrated. We started with a family party when my Mom was visiting the last week in August. We had Marc's parents over for a brunch of pancakes, sausages, fruit salad, cake and ice cream. My Mom and I made the cake pictured here. In case you can't tell (though I think it's perfectly obvious), it's two light sabers. There small gifts from us and from Molly. There were large gifts from the grandparents. Noah was thrilled with all the Star Wars stuff.

We decided not to have his "kid party" until a few weeks after his real birthday which was the first weekend after school started, a busy time. Of course, we couldn't let his real birthday pass unnoticed, so Marc took him to the movies, and we had cake, and he got to open his big gift from us.

The next day at school, I sent a chocolate zucchini cake for him to share with his classmates.

This past weekend, we had the all important kid party. We thought it was going to be poorly attended as some friends couldn't make it. It ended up as a lovely chaotic gathering. As you may have guessed, we had a Star Wars theme. We played "Destroy the Death Star" (pin the x-wing fighter on the death star), musical planets (to Star Wars music of course), and we had the kids run through a Jedi training obstacle course. They got so swipe at bad guys with light sabers and dodge laser beams. The kids had a hoot. Then of course, there were presents and cake - again.

So, I think we're done.

Noah is constantly amazing me with how grown up he is becoming. He asked me to pitch him some balls after work today, and he hit a fair number of them - more than I would have hit! I had no idea he could do that.

the family bed revisited

So, we're the kind of family that allows the kids to sleep in our bed if they ask or wander in in the middle of the night. The kids each has a bed that they go to sleep in, but more and more lately it seems that they find their way in to our room in the middle of the night. Sometimes this is lovely. Sometimes, I sleep better with both my little chicks in the nest (so to speak). We still have wall to wall futons in our room, so there is plenty of room, unless . . . the kids decide that they both need to sleep close to me and will complain and cry even if I move away while they are sleeping. They are little heat-seeking missiles at 3am. Crazy. They will stop at nothing to be the one beside Mommy. The complaint a couple of nights ago was that Molly farted in Noah's face as she was crawling over him to get to me. Seriously.

Now, Marc has been working on our bedroom - new floors and paint - for the last month now. We have this lovely new room, and we're thinking about buying a real bed. The futons are getting old and hard and lumpy, and we're not spring chickens anymore. I'm just hoping it all works out for little visitors in the night. More to the point, I want to be the one sleeping in the new bed with my husband, not moving to one of the kids' rooms because the bed is full.

Then, of course, we add the new baby to the mix. Crazy times. Oh well, at least I won't have to get up for work for a year.

30 is the new 20 or something

So, here I am 37 years old and having a baby. Until I was 34, I never even thought of the possibility of having one after age 35. My hair is greying. I have been a good girl and not coloured it while pregnant. I am actually fascinated by how sparkly it is and how it is progressing, but that's another story. I may dye it once the baby comes just so no one mistakes me for the grandma . . . yet another reason to nurse in public frequently!

I spent at least the last 3 years of my 20's trying to get pregnant. The first year, it was not a concerted effort. If it happened, it happened and we would welcome it. Nothing. The following two years WERE a concerted effort with a lot of charting, temperature taking, and tracking all the other fertility signs. I was pretty good at it, yet still nothing. Then there was the confusion of moving back to Winnipeg which is why we didn't seek medical help. Once in Winnipeg, I made an appointment for a physical and planned to ask to be referred to a specialist. That turned out to be my first prenatal appointment.

So, when we decided to try again, we thought we should give ourselves a few months. It was not necessary. Each of our children has been easier to conceive than the last. Life is weird. (weird good)

I'm not sure why I'm writing this - the grey hair and the belly I suppose.