2009 Christmas Ornaments

I meant to do this last month but never got to it.
Here are Henry and Willa's special ornaments for 2009. I'm going to try to keep an annual record of the ornaments so, when the kids are old and married with their own trees, they'll know why mom and dad picked that one out for them.

Henry's is a bear with a duck life preserver ring. He gets/will get a bear ornament every year. The duck is significant, as his first word was duck. And we spent a heap of wonderful moments at various beaches during his first summer. Henry Bear enjoyed his toes in the wet sand, and crawling on the surf.

Willa's ornament is a girl on a dove's back. She goes back and forth between calling that girl an angel and a fairy. Three is the age of magical thinking: involved stories about talking animals and tiny human-like creatures. She believes me when I tell her about my youthful adventures with the Frog King, and we've often ended nights discussing Pipsqueak, the ladybug who lives with her family in a boot, in a field, by the side of the road. An angel/fairy on the back of dove was perfect for Willa Bird this year.

Never mind: cole slaw for dinner

At 2:30 Henry woke up in his crib.

Jim tried to get him back to sleep, and was successful for 20 minutes. When Henry woke the second time, I went in his room, and tried to pat and rub his back until he slept again. It didn't work. I brought him into the living room to hold him and whisper songs until he fell asleep.

It did not go well. He fought to be let go, and wandered the house sobbing. I picked him up... this goes on and on, and I'm sure you have better things to do with your lives then read about the heroic attempts I made in the line of battle.

I was reading "Goodnight Moon" at 4am. I did everything I could except my one surefire trick. He cried, I leaked. Finally, I weighed the options, and backsliding on weaning was worth an hour of sleep to me.

Sweet sleep.

He woke at 10 this morning, and we did not nurse.

Weaning is a process, not an event, I have to remind myself.

Henry has been having some terrible, awful sleep issues for about 10 days now. I took him to the doctor on Friday to rule out ear infections and the like. Looks like we're just going through a phase. A blurry, sleep deprived, grouchy phase.

One down (maybe), one to go

Hi pals.

First, my son clearly says many words including daddy, Arlo, Greta, please, thank you, bear.... know what he calls me? Bob. When he calls out to me, I pretend that he has an eternal cold, and his plugged nose is the only thing standing in the way of a correct "Mom."

So, today was a milestone in Bob-'n-Henry land. I slept on the couch to give sick Jim a little space. Henry woke up when the sun came up (which is also notable after a week of terrible sleep), Jim plucked him from the crib, changed his diaper, and let him loose. We're all organic with our free-range children at Camp Sinki.

And instead of approaching me with his baby bird gaping mouth, ready to nurse, he played with dinosaurs and Mr. Potato Head.

He never asked, and I never offered. Looks like we're weaning (at least from the morning session); which is fine by me. A few months ago, I looked deep into his eyes and realized the magic was gone. He was certainly healthy, and physically developed enough, and he took to cow milk well. He's made nursing into a game, trying to hop from one breast to the other, and then back. Taking a break to tickle his own toes (saying tick-L tick-L aloud) or to kiss my lips or blow raspberries on my belly.

At about 10 this morning, I felt the physical consequence for not nursing this morning. My breasts felt like I had lead in them. I took a pain reliever - yup, it's that uncomfortable.

After dinner, I hit the grocery store and picked up a few things, including cabbage.

Henry took his bath tonight, and nursed before going to bed. Sweet relief.

But I'm still wearing cabbage inside both bra cups as I write. It helps.

Yes and No

"Is that a good sandwich, Henry?"
"Would you like to go to the store?"
"Should we tickle daddy?"

These all get deep, slow nods from Henry. His head solemnly swears that he agrees with the question at hand. As though God himself has asked a favor. Yes, from the bottom of Henry's little heart, yes.

"He understands so much more than we think," states Jim.

I ask, "Henry, would you like snakes to gobble up your toes?" He nods.

He does disagree with one topic: sleep. Any question involving sleep, naps, or bed gets a quiet, almost kitten "meow"-sounding noooooo.

What's that saying about common sense?

A week before Christmas, Willa decided it would be a good idea to pick Henry up and carry him up the stairs. Due to the fact that Henry is too big for her to carry anywhere, let alone up stairs (and particularly when she is wearing a princess dress made of slippery fabric) the trip up the stairs was unsuccessful and ended with blood (hers) and tears (both of them).

Interviews of all parties concerned resulted in a hypothesis that Henry kind of surfed down the stairs, using Willa as a board.

We had friends over at the time and weren't paying very close attention. I'm still kicking myself and Jim and I are haunted by the "what ifs" that follow any accident.

Willa took some stair treads to the nose and mouth, and had a scab that unfortunately earned her the brief nickname of Rudolf at Christmas time. After I knew she was all right, and was icing her wounds, I'm going to confess to you folks: I thought of all of the Christmas photos that were to come, and gave up any thought of still catching a moment for a holiday card photo.

Childhood comes with a certain amount of bumps and scrapes, and frankly, I'm putting it in the win column that we haven't had an ER visit yet.

A few nights ago, I was up early with Henry (still going through holiday-related sleep disruption). I was watching a news show while he nursed. There was a story about a mom who was angry - like"feel my wrath and see my veins bulging" angry - because her daughter has had to have two unplanned hair trims since Christmas. It seems the young Miss cuddled her zhu zhu pet too closely, and her locks got swept up but the motorized wheels. Mom was demanding a recall. The newscaster managed to get the phrase "when the maker of zhu zhu pets were contacted, their statement was parents should instruct their children on the proper use of this toy." I've even read that there is a warning label on the packaging. And here's how I know this mom is a real thinker: the first haircut came the morning after her daughter slept with her new toy. The second haircut? The next morning when her daughter slept with it - again.

Willa proudly told the stranger in the Kohls bathroom, "I protected my brother when we fell down the stairs," when the stranger asked, "what happened to your pretty face?"* Because it was her actions that caused the accident, I wouldn't let her collect any medal of bravery. On the other hand, I take equal blame because I wasn't aware of what was going on.

So, the next time I see my daughter pick up her brother near stairs? I'll stop her. And I probably won't call the local news to come broadcast how my own lack of common sense caused injury to my children.

*hey, if you don't know a kid, don't ask them about an injury. Willa was in tears one night because people she didn't know kept asking her.

Got the itch

I was so distracted by holiday preparations that I forgot to aim any energy at my nemesis, Winter. The cookies are shared (and our reserve is nearly gone), the presents are given and received, the tree was packed up two days ago. And yesterday it suddenly hit me. A growling, impatient, tangible dislike of this season.

Thanks to a prank (thoughtful as it was) by my mom, I am on the mailing list for just about every gardening/landscaping catalog. They've started to arrive. I've started to drool.

Due to the nation-wide tomato blight, we'll have to move our crop for the year. The fungus may still be active, so... We'll have tomatoes in the side garden. We'll put the cucumber and squash in the tomato bed.

I harvested a bunch of seeds in the fall. Did you see me picking the head off of a dying red snapdragon flower in public? I think I'll have to sit on my hands for several more weeks. And then, I'll rip open seed packets and sit on the floor, enjoying the smell of potting soil. Mmmmm...

I just explored the Sinki archives and found this post. It looks like early January is my tipping point.

Gardening pals, got any plans yet?

Sunday family adventure

On Sunday morning, the Sinkis were running in slow motion. We got up, and dressed for church. We left the house for our 8 minute drive, 5 minutes after the service started. Taking into account parking downtown and getting Willa settled in her classroom... well, the Sinkis looked very nice driving about town trying to find something to do at 11 am. Nothing opens until noon, we found. So, back home we went, to change and put Henry down for his nap.
After he woke up, two Sinkis went ice skating while the other two watched. Check out Willa in her new skates:

I was so, so proud of both Willa and Jim. Even though she and I talked about the realities of skating (you ARE going to fall. But then you just get up...) ahead of time, she was not enjoying the first experience. Until daddy took her out on the ice and tried, and tried and tried... and tried. He was so patient. And finally, they went around the rink - her not ready to let go of the crutch - and they were both smiling.

I have a video to share. But before I invest too much time and pass my cursing quota of the day, do any pals out there have a quick and easy video sharing/posting suggestion?

Right from the rink, we went to the Gardens:

...not even a mouse

I know I've been quiet here.

Jim had two whole weeks off of work and we've simply had a wonderful Christmastime.
Also, I was insanely domestic. In December I made:
- 8 tutus for some little girls I like a bunch.
- 12 different kinds of Christmas cookies and candy. Note to self: never set that goal again.
- a table runner for my mom's gift.

I need a break from creaming butter and sugar and tying tulle to ribbon. And my sewing machine and I aren't speaking right now.

Manners

Henry is a vocal small chap. He gets his point across pretty easily.

Today he started saying "thank you." And my heart melted.

Where my daughter calls me Christ-like

"Mom, look at my picture. This is me. And that's Henry. And that's our baby between us. You're the baby. You're baby Jesus. I'm Mary, and Henry is Joseph. No one had a baby like Jesus, huh mom?"
"Nope, no one did."
"I liked you when you were baby Jesus. I'm SO excited for Jesus' birthday."

Friends, I'm working on a post about me and religion and Christmas. But sit tight, and in the mean time, know that I'm scratching my head about Willa's enthusiasm (and assignments) above.

Youthful editor

Let me set the scene:

Jim and I are at the table talking about his day.
Willa is in and out of the room, dreaming of princesses and candy.
Henry is walking around the house with his favorite ornament (he plucks the same one off the tree and takes it for walks).

Jim: "it just frustrates me. Such a dumb@ss way of doing things...."
Me: *eyebrows up*
Willa: "DADDY! We don't say dumb."

I'm feeling grateful for, and missing, John Denver today.

The kids and I were watching John Denver and the Muppets: a Christmas Together special on YouTube today. The kids were hypnotized and I sang along, making cookies at the table.

Then this segment came on (click to jump in the middle of the special, and from there you can get to the start). And I froze and listened.

Gosh.

Kermit and John Denver. Sweet genius.

I know that this lives in my sentimental past, when I was 6 or so and watching in footie pajamas with my family. I very vividly remember playing the (now long gone) record of this tv special while decorating the tree with my family.

The humble, genuine, gift that Jim Henson and John Denver created together was magic. It WAS Christmas.

For the truth that binds us all together
I would like to say a simple prayer
That at this special time you will have true peace of mind
And love to last throughout the coming year

Like Kermit, this season makes me homesick. My schmaltzy heart longs for the time that I was little and listening to my parents sing along, watching dad hang the lights outside while mom orchestrated clever decorations or giant family meals. And now - gulp - it's my and Jim's turn to ensure my kids have gentle, generous, joyous memories of Christmas time. It's such a big, wonderful responsibility.

Round and round...

On Monday, the Sinkis went to the GR public museum for a Christmas party hosted by our friend, Joe. Joe also happens to be our financial planner, and the party was a client appreciation event. Folks, if you need someone to help you with dollars and goals, and you want it to be someone you can be comfortable with, let me know and I'll get you Joe's information.

So... here are the Sinkis on the carousel. We took 2 rides. On the first, Willa informed me that her horse's name was Mary. After the first spin, we went back in the main hall. You can see the carousel through windows. Henry noticed, walked over and started signing "more." Neat.

Fun night in Sinki-ville.

holiday briefs

A few quick things:

The tree is up. Lights are on. When Jim plugged the lights in Willa literally gasped and said, "beautiful sight." I was delighted.

We've been holding off to decorate the tree. I've been concerned about a certain curious toddler. Last night we were ready to go, but Willa was terrible at the dinner table and wound up going to bed very, very early. Tonight we are hopeful, and thanks to winter, Jim's Masters class is cancelled. So, decorating is on if Willa behaves better and Jim gets home.

Henry and Willa have both taken turns lying under the Christmas tree. I don't know if they're enjoying a beautiful novelty or trying to show us how darn adorable they can be. Either way, it's sweet.

Henry has taken to wearing reindeer antlers around his neck today. Willa is wearing her pink boa, silver antlers, an orange scarf, a green skirt (don't worry, there are fleece pants under that), and a butterfly top.

The kids got to spend some time with Santa. It was fairly anti-Norman Rockwell. I got kid A placed on one Santa knee and reached for B while A was sliding off, repeat in reverse a few times before we gave up.

This pose is a lot like last year's pose. And Willa's first Christmas pose. Of course, at the end of the night, Jim and Willa spotted Santa and she ended up hugging him. A minute before Henry and I rounded the corner to join them.

And the family picture:

Sledding Sunday

We went sledding on Sunday with special guests, Joe and Julia.

There's a school down that block with a hill that is perfect for little ones. It's a good ride down, and not impossible to walk back up.

The girls went with their dads, with each other, and by themselves. Willa went with me. Henry enjoyed rides with both of his parents. He was pulled up the hill, lying in the sled and grumbling baby curse words until he could ride down again.

The dogs came along. They made friends with a lot of strangers. Arlo would jump on laps (after an inviting pat) for rides down, and Greta would race on foot. Arlo took - and seemed to enjoy - a solo trip down too.

Jenny stayed at home with a napping Jordan. We all joined them for a terrific dinner and a dance party in princess clothes.

Willa and is six months older than Julia. It's fun to watch those six months become less important as they both get older and play together.

Outside

Winter hits the Sinkis

Just got in from an quick romp in the snow. Willa's wearing pjs and those are socks on Henry's hands. But man it was fun. 3-5 inches predicted. Willa's got plans to make a snowman as tall as Jim.

My dad and I* took the kids downtown on Thanksgiving and met Jim (who was working the Turkey Trot in the morning). The parade was fantastic. The kids were pretty riveted:

We were at the start of the parade. This means a lot of balloon spinning. That's some exciting stuff that you just can't understand unless you've been standing on Woodward for an hour in the cold, and have had the kumbya moment in a crowd of convincing a group of people dressed as cartoon characters to run in a circle, each gripping their line that connects to the giant balloon above them. It's pretty awesome.

So, Santa came (escorted by the Cousino High School marching band - I am an alum - yes, I do realize just how dorky this post is making me), children squealed, and then we booked it back to the parking lot, in hopes of beating traffic. I opened the door to the mini-van to load in the kids and found a duffel bag full of several copies of one cd. Uh... someone broke into my parents van and left cds and didn't take anything. **

And in order to keep things light and somewhat brief, I'll just say, uh... I hate it when stereotypes are realized. Some people don't go to "the city" because of crime. Thanks cd jerk, for perpetuating that. Bah.

Anyhow, the parade was fun. And then we got home, took several layers off and then went to see the marching band assembled in front of a neighbor's house. They won a raffle which entitled them to a 20 minute concert from the 100+ member band. A marching band? In the middle of a street? Playing Michael Jackson's "Thriller"? I'm there!

Even more entertaining was cousin time on Friday:

Sorry for the sideways video. I'm tired of trying to get it to rotate, and will try again later.

* My mom stayed home to continue recovering post-sinus/ear/respiratory infection. Later that day she hosted one of two - back to back - big dinners. Big, fun delicious, family diners, but hardly taking it easy on herself.

** Detroit: kinder and gentler post-Kwame.

Thanksiving Coconut

"Mama, can we put on our shoes and give everyone on our street uh.... coconuts?"
"What?" I mean really, what else can you say here?
"I want to share my coconuts. We can give every house on our street one."
"What coconuts, Willa?"
"You know! The ones daddy put in my pocket..."
she runs away and returns out of breath with her hand clasped
"These coconuts!"
"Sweetie, that's a peanut. Where did you get that?"

Apparently she (or maybe Jim) loaded up her pockets before we left a restaurant with a barrel of peanuts out. Glad we figured this out before laundry day.

Kid chats

I posted earlier this month that Willa had some nightmares that sounded pretty darned scary. A few mornings ago she snuggled up to me and gave me the dream report: "I dreamed that alligators and lizards and dinosaurs were chasing me." I reassured her saying it was only a dream, and those animals weren't real. She looked at me with (I'm pretty sure) pity. "Mom, they were nice animals. We were playing."

Henry is really communicating well. He says "uh-uh" for no, and nods (in one slow move of chin touching chest) for yes. He's an agreeable chap, for the most part. We had a disagreement over picking Willa up from school the other day.