Some days I feel so lost as a Mother.  Days where it truely feels like I spend the whole day yelling.  I get so frustrated with Ethan sometimes.  He’s so smart and he’s so sweet and he’s so good.  And then he’s such a pain in the ass and he’s so got the ears of a brick wall and he’s such a little snot to Victor.  I’m so sick of looking over our shoulders at his birth/complications and wondering “is this because of that?”.  “Are these the emotional issues/ADHD?”  “Is this normal?”  On good days I feel like he’s ahead of the game and that he’s completely normal.  I tell people, and myself, that he’s totally normal.  We don’t have to worry anymore.  He’s fine.  He slipped through the statistical cracks.  But I don’t know.  We have bad days and I really don’t know.  What’s normal?  What do I do to get through to him?  How do I get him to listen/behave?  Is this my fault?  Am I too hard on him? expect too much? not spend enough time with him? let him play by himself too much? don’t go out enough? don’t give him enough social interaction?

Yet right now, despite his driving me nuts, I want nothing more than to go up to his room and snuggle with him.  I wish I could apologize for being too short with him and for not spending more time with him.  I love him so much it’s like gasping for air underwater.  There’re no words, and not enough actions to express it.

Knitting.  A lot of it.  Any spare chance I get.  Since I’ve all but finished my time-related projects, I decided to take some yarn left from one of such and FINALLY make myself a pair of slippers.  I finished them this morning, and just now finished the felting.  BOY did that require some elbow grease!  I’ve felted before, but they were a tad long and I wanted them to fit so I now have very red, sore, pruney hands and some slippers that should fit nicely which are now drying on the dish rack next to the sink (can’t say I don’t suffer for my craft).

I’d show you what I’ve been doing, but that would be letting cats out of bags, so I’ll take pictures instead and show you later (if you care – mostly it’s for me).  Next on my agenda is socks for me (finally) and Ken and Ethan, then tie-backs for the curtains which need to be lined, too.  I’ve got my mind whirring on some lace ideas and trying to decide what to do with my huuuge hank of green fingering weight yarn that I ebayed so long ago.  Shawl/stole?  many many pair of socks?  Dunno.

We went to bed a little early last night, with mild but annoying headaches, and Victor slept all night until 6am this morning so I’m pleasantly rested.  Ken’s just come down and dug into the computer desk drawer for my present, asking if I’d thought to search there for it.  “No, I’m an adult now.”  “Yeah,” he says, “so adult that you had to shake the box when it arrived!”   (it was the complete DVD set of Black Adder – he knows me well)

Over the past few days I’ve been asked and have been wondering “What do I want to do for my birthday?”  The problem is that I keep *not* knowing.  I’m not used to thinking in terms of “me” anymore, or about things I want.  My wants are tertiary.  I have everything I could want already.  A loving husband, two beautifulsmartsweethealthyhappy little boys, a beautiful home, moderate financial comfort, and my health (more or less – 22yrs of diabetes without any complications seems rather a blessing).

So thinking over all that, and with a good night’s sleep, a peaceful morning and a day ahead spent with my family… what could I want for myself?  All I can think is of the time immediately in front of me, in which I want Eggs Benedict and a cuppa.  May the rest of the day unfold as simply as that.

Ok, I’ve emailed everyone that I have an email address for, but there are some of you crazies people who read this blog and/or care about us and would like a card.  I would love to give one to you but maybe I don’t have an email address?!!  Maybe you need to either email me at “blog” at the website address of here or you can put a comment on this post and I’ll track you down, bloodhound style.

Edit:  Thanks for the votes!  Now I need to send out the email asking everyone for their address.

I’m in the midst of trying to pick out a photo for our cards this year and of the dozens of pics we snapped when Sharon was here, there are 4 that might be usable. *Might*. So I’m hoping you’ll help me choose.

I like that last one, personally, because it’s most indicative of how the photo shoot went. The 3rd to last is a bit unfocused, but I figure on a photo card you’re not likely to notice that given the image size.What think you? 1, 2, 3, or 4?

If there is anything I wish to teach you right now, my youngest child, is that life… is not a competition. I know some people would have you believe otherwise – they would be wrong. It doesn’t matter how fast or expensive or big life is. What matters is the quality of your life. That being said, life right now is…. cranky. You’re cutting teeth. Teeth. Now, we rather expected you’d be similar to Ethan in that you’d cut more than one at a time – we assumed you’d also cut in pairs, seeing as you two share genetic material. We were wrong, Mr. 3-at-once. We’ve been watching the bottom two bumps for a few months now, knowing they’d be first since they’re so very *there*. A few days ago your father was surprised to find you’d just finished cutting one – on the top. Stop messing with us!

This past month has gone by in a blur, mostly a blur of you. You’ve learned to walk this month (with your own special swagger), you can stand up on your own and bend over and pick things up (that’s Ethan saying “smile” since I have the camera out, btw) (and no, we don’t usually match up your shoes with your outfits – those are coincidences, albeit cute ones). We’re ecstatic that you’ve learned so well and so quickly, and Ethan has thoroughly enjoyed this new aspect of playmate that you’re providing him. Also, as of this morning, you’ve learned how to get out of your crib, with only a few scuff marks on your head, without us knowing at all – no telltale thump and wail, no naughty-giggle or noise-of-new-thing-to-mess-with. We heard the monitor alarm that indicates you’ve disconnected the power – figured you’d reached through the crib slats and grabbed it – and your father comes in to tell me, a few moments later, that you were on the floor playing with something. Seriously. Slow down with the milestones! You’re allowed to not walk until you’re 18m or so! You’re allowed to not climb out of the crib until around then too (if not later).

Your eating has improved a lot this month, although teething has made you only want to have bottles. You eat small pasta now (and love my Mexi-Italian soup!), and love cut up bananas. We give you whole oatmeal now (not powdered) and whole milk instead of formula (which you do better on anyways – digestively).

With all the exercise you’re getting, you’re trimming down some, but not worrisomely, and you’re still growing by leaps and bounds. Yesterday’s height measurement has you at 31″ tall – back up to the 90th percentile (you’d been rounding down past the 75th). You’re wearing 18m sized clothes now, too.You’re doing somethings on cue – stranger anxiety, extra joy at seeing Mommy and Daddy (not quite separation anxiety, but close), and starting to talk. Mama, Dada, ba!, and uhoh (though “uhoh” tends to be “uh” with the occasional “oh” tacked on – and only when you’re prompted). You’re getting into mischief (in the form of drawers in the kitchen) and are starting to really express yourself.

Despite and because of all of this, we love you so much more every day. More of your personality is coming through and I’m so excited to keep learning who you are. I love your deep, throaty chuckle. I love knowing that you love music. You love when I sing to you, you love when we dance. You love getting hugs and keep trying to kiss me when I sing close to your face. You love being near Ethan – even when he’s being rough – and you love to instigate trouble with him. You still love chewing on shoes, and you love to bounce.

And I love you, trouble-maker.Love, Mommy

I hold to the belief of “3’s”. Everything happens in threes. We’ve recently had a rash of negative’s and I’m writing them down to figure out if they add up to three. Bear with me.

Ken was playing with the boys and a ball this weekend and bounced the ball right through the glass shade on the ceiling fan. (Thankfully we can order a new shade, and don’t need to have a whole new fan.)

Yesterday Ethan snapped the arm of his glasses off at the base. The new glasses, that is. Hopefully we can buy just an arm and don’t have to pay for another pair of glasses for him.

Yesterday Ethan went for an eye appt (which was a trial and a very long day) wherein we found that his left eye still isn’t processing images like it should and Dr. T warned us that if this isn’t resolved soon it’ll affect his life down the road – like not getting his drivers licence. We’re more than a little concerned, suffice. We’ve been given instructions to get him to wear his glasses as much as possible (which means we’ll have to keep a closer eye on and try to train Victor to not grab them and retrain Ethan to wear them) and we’re going back in 5 months to reassess (when I think, if things haven’t improved, Ethan will move to the next stage of treatment – being a pirate).

Lets focus on some good, though… I picked up the mats for the frames for the pictures for Victor’s room. So he’ll finally have those up and they will look cute and I’ll take a picture when they’re up (which’ll be a few days since the frames didn’t come with any hangy bits so Ken’s going to have to pick some up).

I ordered some insulating fabric for our curtains, which arrived yesterday, and it’s not what I expected. I figured it’d be thick and fluffy and rather like fleece. It’s super thin, though definately lined in *something* and it’s also 2yrds wide, instead of the 1yrd I had assumed it would be (though now that I go to their site it says 54″ so… my bad?). All the same, it was a good price (Fabric Place, $3/yrd – they also have an “ivory” colour but damned if I know the difference between that and white) and I’m confident it’ll help (not that our heating costs are huge, but every bit helps). Since I’d assumed 1yrd widths, I’ll likely double it up on the curtains. Maybe that’ll make it twice as effective?

I’d love to give up a “good thing #3″ but can’t think of any more. Another two negative/positive’s though are that today Victor is 11 months old (letter post about that later). 11 months! That’s one month less than a year old and HOW IN HELL DID THAT HAPPEN SO FAST!?? I swear time didn’t fly this fast with Ethan. 1+1=3 + 299 792 458 m/s. Aaand I’ll be turning another decade older in just over 2wks and as much as I know I shouldn’t be bothered by this, it is. How dumb is that?!

I’m fairly certain you knew that I was going to be writing your letter today, son, because you were just the sweetest you could be.  You were polite, you were precocious, and you were eloquent (in your own, little boy way).  Sadly, this is not how things have been going lately, as you’ve entered the “Cranky Jerk” phase of 3 year oldhood.  While you weren’t hugely into tantrums last year, you’re more than making up for them now.  You’ve developed an impressive length of time wherein you’ll continue to scream your frustration at being denied something.  So far I’ve yet to see just how long you’ll scream for as one of us always caves after a while and goes to help you calm down – I wonder, though…

We’ve been working, again, on manners and being polite.  Thankfully, and adorably, you’ve been catching on quite well.  It thrills my heart when you say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ without prompting.  You’ve even started doing it when you talk to Victor – handing him a toy you want him to play with and saying “Please, Victor”.

Your father set up the rest of your bed today, and you now have an extra 6″ or so under your mattress and box spring (previously on the floor), as well as the headboard that your Father used to have when he was a boy.  Since it’s set up, you’ve not slept once on the floor *knock on wood* and have stayed in bed to sleep – quite the change from the routine lately wherein we take you up to bed and ask you where you want to sleep: the bed, the floor, or the closet – only to find you the next morning, typically somewhere entirely different from where you decided you wanted to sleep the night before.  Your nightly routine also now includes a specific book: The Bunnies Are Not In Their Beds.  You love this story, though it’s not especially rhymey or have an exciting plotline.  You love it, though, and we read it to you almost every night.  Sometimes, when you’re up playing in the play area, I’ll hear you flipping through the book on your own and retelling yourself the story.  You’re ever so gentle with this book, and it hasn’t one page that’s been roughly turned or squashed.  You’re always careful to put it up where it won’t be damaged – such do you love this story.

This past month we bought a whole bunch of model animals for you to play with – all sorts, all realistic looking, and all yours since they stay up in the playroom where Victor’s generally not allowed to go yet.  Watching you play with them is too cute, and I love hearing you make up conversations between them.  Truely the playroom, being somewhere you can be alone and play the way you want to without interruption, has been a Gods send for us and you.  You ask to play up there quite a bit, and everyone is happy with the scenario.  You tend to be a lot more calm during the day after you’ve had some alone time, and you’re better able to play with Victor and be patient with him.  I think, lately, you’ve realized just where the line is when you play with your brother, and which side it’s best to stay on.  How rough and tumble you can be without hurting him (or being chastised), and just how much fun it is to run around with him, screaming your everloving heads off for the pure joy of it.  Mostly that last part happens at the end of the day, and then we put on your jammies and tuck you in bed, where you are now – sleeping, even.

Though you drive us nuts much of the time, lately, we just love you so very much.  Good night, good night, sleep tight little bunny.

Love Mommy