Thaw before reheating.
{ Category Archives }
3: Poopie diapers from each kid
4: Outfits for Kate
3: Minutes Kate spent in the pool before the sun came out
5: Times I helped Will to swim to the bottom of the pool to pick up one of his toys before the whole thing freaked me out too much
2: Bandaids Will has had on his fingers
2: Times Will watched “National Geographic Really Wild Animals: Ocean” while pretending to be a shark
26: Sweet Pickles books that currently serve as Will’s primary reading choice
I struggle at each day’s end. Tucking Will in to bed, we sing songs. Usually I take requests, given by suggestion. “Would you like…. Hushabye Mountain? Goodnight My Someone? Loverly? I’d Do Anything? Surrey with the Fringe on Top?…â€
Lately, Will smiles his sly smile and offers some faux titles based on his current obsessions. “How ‘bout Monster Song? Shark Song? Dinosaur Song? Tarantula Song?â€
Some nights, I do my best to make up a song on his chosen theme. But even on those nights, we end with a song from our established repertoire. 
Sometimes, he sings along. Sometimes Kate is there in bed with us, curled up in between. Sometimes, she sings, too.
No matter the song, or the singer(s), Will always follows up our lullabies with requests of cuddles. He asks specifically “to cuddle Mommy†and expects this cuddling to be all-night, or at least until-he-falls-asleep.
I always cuddle for a least a few minutes. Then the struggle begins. Kate gets fussy and needs burped or walked. Paul has asked me to help him with a project after Will is in bed. Laundry needs to be folded, dishes to be done, cats to be fed, trash to be taken out. Maybe I want some time to be Alone. These trivial tasks compel me to move. The stuff of life creeps into my head and pulls me away from the pillow I share with my son.
I know in a few years, years that will pass so quickly that I will forever be asking how they passed by so fast, I will long for these nights. I will miss my child that asks for his mother to cuddle him to bed. Miss his arms pulling me to his side, resting his head on my shoulder.
Will, waking up from his afternoon nap: “Where’s PapPap?â€
“PapPap’s at work, honey.â€
“Oh, need to wait here for him.â€
“We do?â€
“Yeah. I gotta go t’ golf course. Gotta hit balls with PapPap.”
Kate is 14 weeks old today. 
Will is 1 week shy of being 2 years and 9 months old. 
One of the biggest surprises of the past 14 weeks is that Will has not tried to destroy his sister. I felt certain that we would see some type of aggression or jealousy from him. The warnings of this behavior line each chapter on sibling preparation and the anxiety over it put me on high alert in Kate’s early weeks.
Now am I not so guarded. Sure, Will has his moments. For example, Will is very clear about when and where Kate can use “his†things. There are times when Kate sitting in Will’s bean bag or using his blanket are Not Okay. But there are other times when he willfully extends the use of these items to his “baby sister.â€
A friend of mine was visiting and was shocked to see Will jump up to Kate’s side when she woke up from a nap on her playmate and cried out. He rushed to her, found her pacifier, and put it gently in her mouth, all the while cooing to her, “it’s okay sweet girl.â€
What shocks me about Will’s practice of soothing Kate is that I’m so used to it that sometimes I actually wait for him to attend to her, forgetting that my 2-year old does not yet qualify as a suitable babysitter. His level of helpfulness betrays the truth of his age.
He delights at the attention Kate gives him. “She’s smiling at me!” he proudly declares. Kate dutifully responds by giving him rapt attention whenever he is nearby. The draw of Will trumps all other distractions, food included; she will stop everything to soak in her big brother.
After the doctor’s office we drove on to the Aquarium!
The Amazon exhibit was a key part of today’s trip. Will especially liked the anaconda. (I especially did NOT. I swear that snake eyes me up and down each time we visit.)
Although the big snake certainly has Will as a fan, nothing beats sharks. In the picture below, Will observes the baby nurse sharks. (The Big Sharks have a separate, big room viewing area. This is where I like to hang out and nurse Baby Kate while Paul chases Will around the rest of the exhibits. I think of it as a breastfeeding perk.)
Will named each of the baby sharks today. Some were “Mommy Shark,” some were “Daddy Shark,” some were “Will Shark” and some were… wait for it… “Baby Kate FISH.” (And you thought he’d be predictable.)
We followed up the Aquarium with lunch in the Canal Place food court Grille: pecan catfish and burgers. Will especially likes the glass elevators in the ‘Place, which we are doing our best to teach him to recognize as a “Wonka ‘Vator.”
Kate, 3 months and 2 days old:
– Height: 23 1/2 inches long (50%)
– Weight: 13 lbs, 14 oz (90%)
– Head: 41 cm (75%)
– Two immunizations: DTaP and IPV
Will, 2 years and 8 months old (just there for a shot):
– Weight: 31.4 pounds
– One immunization: Hep A
Both kids did great, NEITHER cried during their shots!
If you ask Paul why he married me, I’m pretty sure he’ll tell you two reasons: 1. Dream Dessert, and 2. Tomato Pie.
The original tomato pie recipe had disappeared a few years back and I’d been having trouble making it as perfect as I had in the past. My Mom magically found the recipe and sent it on to me yesterday. I tried it out tonight and can vouch that it is as sound as ever. Much too good of a jewel not to pass on — complete with family secrets in the notes below!
TOMATO PIE
2 C. buttermilk baking mix (Bisquick)
2/3 C. whole milk
4 large tomatoes
3/4 C. mayonnaise
1 C. sharp cheddar cheese, grated
Grated onion to taste*
Salt & pepper to taste
Italian seasoning to taste
Mix together baking mix and milk and spread in lightly greased 9-inch pie pan.
Cover tomatoes with boiling water and let stand a few minutes. Drain. Peel and slice thinly. Layer tomatoes with onion, salt, pepper, & Italian seasoning on top of unbaked pie shell until pie is level.
*I like to use a large Vidalia onion sliced thinly and lightly sautéed to a golden brown instead of the grated onion.
**I have found 400 degrees can cook the topping too fast and not cook the crust all the way through in the middle so I start the temperature at 375 degrees for 10 minutes and then lower to 350 degrees and cook for about 20-25 minutes more. I use a clear glass Pyrex pie dish to watch to see that the crust is browning.
I joined New Orleans’ freecycle group a few months ago and have used it to pass on a bunch of things… from fence boards to packages of unused hotel soap to shoes. I posted some baby boy items that were given to me from a neighbor… a cap, bathing suit, blue crib blanket, etc. Quickly after posting, an interested party emailed me.
But I am unsettled over her email. For one, her email name is something like “Resaler Cindy,” which makes me think that she may be trying to profit from freecycle, which bothers me. Second, she says she wants it “for a friend,” but did so in all lowercase letters with no punctuation and a typo. I have no problem with quick, un-punctuated, lowercase notes from friends, but my goodness… when it is a formal request to be given an item for free, maybe writing a sentence would be good form! She’s not ee cummings for crying out loud. Sheesh.
In the past, when I’ve received messages that give me pause, the person has been flaky and pick-up has been a pain. So I initially thought I’d just skip her message and go to the next person. But no one else has responded! What to do…?
As an eldest girl in 4 generations of eldest girls, I grew up sensitive to the roles of being first born. I was expected to be responsible, aware, in control, helpful, and dutiful. In contrast, I was very aware of the different expectations put on my brother, the youngest and the baby. In my (perhaps jaded) view, his role was simply to be loved and adored. Now that I have two children, I feel I can much better understand the dynamic. First children break you in, completely destroying you in the process. The following child (or children) are easy, simple joys.
People ask all the time, “is it harder with two?” And the answer, of course, is “YES.” But not for the reasons I would have thought. Once you’ve gone through it once, having a baby is EASY. It is nothing like the first time, when you are totally overwhelmed, struggle with everything, and never get a chance to embrace the joy of motherhood. Having a second doesn’t make it harder because babies are complicated; having a second makes it harder because you’ve still got to deal with your first. The next children aren’t the ones who make parenting tough. It’s figuring out each stage your oldest is going through that kicks your butt.
So, while Will is a fantastic two-year old and is a source of tremendous love and entertainment, he is the one constantly pushing me as a parent. He is the one who forces me to learn, testing his (and my) limits, leading me down new paths and asking me to be a better person. Kate will do her own testing, I’m certain, but it will not be as rough because I’ll have already experienced the first frustrations and challenges from Will.
Maybe this is why first children are so heavily relied upon; we parents look to them to help us learn to be parents. We look to Will to guide us on how to be a family and to teach us what makes good parenting. He breaks us in; Kate reeps the benefits. Mothering Kate makes me feel confident and complete in my role as a mother in a way I never felt when I was learning with Will. I look at her and see that the difficulties of parenting are still moments of joy, because ultimately, they are rooted in the tremendous love you feel for your children. When life was “just Will,” I was too busy learning to see it.
If I am a good parent, and I believe that I am, it is because of Will and how he has taught me, pushed me, and challenged me into being a better person.
