Abracadabra

This, from the back seat on the way to preschool this morning:

Lily: I have a magic wand! I can do anything!

Henry: That's not magic. (starting in early today with the contrary bit)

Lily: I'm Magic Big Sister!

Henry: You don't have a little brother.

Lily: But I can still be magic. I'm Magic Big Sister.

Henry: You are NOT. magic. (vehemently sticking to his opposition stance)

Lily: Yes, I am.

Calvin: You can't be magic with just a stick. (aw, come on, just play along. don't start...)

Lily: Yes, I can. You're not the bosses of me, guys. (way to hold your own, Lils)

Henry: You're not MAGIC!!!

(Sigh. Barely audible groan. I'm going to have to intervene before they all start screaming over this nonsense. I can never just be the chauffeur without having to referee at the same time. While trying to locate the paci that the baby keeps chucking on the floor.)

Lily: I am magic, Henry. Because when I see problems I can think how to solve them. (Now there's a thought.)

Calvin: Well, then, you're not magic. You're smart. (There you go.)

Lily: Yeah. I'm smart!

Calvin: Smart is really a kind of magic, right?

Lily: Yeah! Smart Magic!

And just like that, a little bit of the grouchy tired bitter mom in me ~***poof*** ~ disappeared.

The Un-Resolution

Henry has had recurring high fevers for about the last six weeks to two months. No other symptoms, one minute he will be fine, the next he is roasting hot and lethargic, and then out for the count for the next two to five days, then totally fine again. He's missed school several times and I've only taken him to the doctor about half the times that he's had the fever just because it will go away before I get in for an appointment.

He was prone to ear infections when he was an infant and has always been anemic, but this fever thing is weird. Last week I took him in, though, and the pediatrician didn't seem too concerned, even when I pointed out that this pattern has been going on for a while now, and that his brothers, who are around him constantly have not been sick along with him. She literally gave me the condescending you're a worry-wart "he's just more susceptible to little viruses than most. Give him Motrin and call if it hasn't gone away by the end of the week."

Well, the fever hadn't gone away by Saturday (Day Five of 102 or higher) so David took him in since I am paranoid about being considered paranoid hypochondriac mom. Suddenly, with a dad saying that he was concerned, the doctor felt it was indeed necessary to be concerned and she ordered blood tests and all. We're still waiting on the results and I'm hoping that everything will be fine, but it's been really wearing.

Basically, Henry has been whining/crying/yelling every. single. word. he says. from the time he wakes up until the time he goes to sleep every. single. day. since sometime before Thanksgiving. I am not even exaggerating. And he has taken being contrary to a whole new level - whatever I say to him is either an impossible solution or else he will insist that the complete opposite is true, to the tune of a complete floor sprawling tantrum including kicking, slapping and falling all over the place until he hurts himself. That is, when he's not completely lethargic and turns his whole little body to the back of the couch and goes to sleep.

I like to think I am a pretty patient and forbearing Mom, fairly empathetic and reasonably sensitive and kind. I am sad that he doesn't feel well and we don't know how to help. The combination of my worry and his behavior (not to mention a baby that I can't get on a reasonable sleep routine, my own insomnia, a five-year-old who needs to be conducting science experiments every minute, holiday busy-ness, school, and laundry, laundry, laundry always laundry) means I am very nearly to the end of my quickly fraying rope.

Let's just say that right now was not the best time to decide to give up coca-cola once and for all or to throw a diet/fitness regime into the mix.

Better to be fat and mostly sane than svelt, but rocking and bashing my head against a brick wall, right?

Auld Lang Syne

I had a new lease on life for about sixteen and a half hours on January 1st, but it's gone now and I'm just doing the same stuff every day. I could wax eloquent about how much I love a new year. Just sometimes things aren't so new, now are they? At the moment, I kinda feel like the ppptttthhhhhhhh a ballon makes when you let the air out. But let me offer a little holiday recap and commentary...

One of the new things we did this year for the holidays was assemble a gingerbread house. Calvin was in love with the idea of it, but I'm not sure it was that appealing in reality, since it really isn't as delicious as it looks, and you have to actually use the frosting strategically (not for tasting) in order for the house to stand up.
And even if it was delicious, Mean Mom wanted to keep it around to look at - for decoration (eyes rolling) - until it wouldn't be delicious anymore. But...when Mean Mom went away for a few minutes after the highly structured house assemblage activity, the boys went ahead and added tasting to the steps of making gingerbread men. Check out the close-up for the true slobbery beauty of it all.

The big news, of course, is that Charlie knows the word "tongue." And he will show you. Then he will do "raspberries" without using his tongue, only his lips. It's quite entertaining.

I mentioned that Calvin was the front end of the camel for the preschool Christmas pageant? This is the only photo that turned out marginally well. Blurry, but you get the idea. It was cute.

And here's Henry being a (disinterested) mouse in the pageant. Unfortunately, I didn't get a picture of him squinting to find me in the crowd (for the first five whole minutes of the program) or later when he was singing,"Bleh-bleh-blee-bluch" to a song that he knows all the real words to but didn't feel like singing like everyone else. But you get the idea. Also cute. Or, if not cute, completely Henry.

If there's any advice I could give new parents, it's DON'T BUY TOYS. Babies and kids love the things you already have. Every time. They'll choose the box over the gift inside, the pans in your cupboard instead of rattles or electronic musical "learning" paraphernalia, a free Santa hat over anything he might bring. Charlie wrestled with this Santa hat for most of the holiday season. I have video which is pretty hilarious. To me. The hat almost got the best of him a couple times, but he and his open mouth conquered at last.

And Calvin and Henry made things from the Amazon.com boxes until...well, they're still doing it. Trust me. And when the boxes lose their allure, there's always sticks, teatowels, and duct tape and your little boy will amuse himself being "General Boy" for the better part of the afternoon. Sticks, boxes, household items will save you hundreds - nay, thousands - of dollars and your kids will be just fine. Adorable and smart, even.

This photo is primarily to support the case for having two boys less than two years apart. Moms of such boys live for such moments. They worked together on making the blanket cover them both and snuggled this way for almost an entire movie. Sweet.

And now that the holiday season is over, the tree is down, I'm back at school, the boys are wondering why it's 70 degrees in January, and David is back to his 9 to 5 workaday, we amuse ourselves by doing things like this:

Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing - Photo Books

All kinds of new and fun around here.

Happy 2008!