"He called me a boy"

So most of the time Madison and Logan are good friends. But it seems they've been fighting a lot more lately, and I'm not sure if they make me cranky or being tired makes me cranky. Today I was just too tired of breaking up fights, so I sat back and listened. (It really is kind of funny)

1. I hear screaming from both kids. I go to see what's wrong.
Madison: No I'm not.
Logan: YEs you are. You are a boy.
Madison: I'm not a boy. Stop it. I'm not a boy.
(sobbing, to me)Logan is calling me a boy. I don't want to be a boy!

2. Running, chasing each other through our small home.
Madison: This is my Elmo.
Logan: No it's not. You can pretend it's your Elmo but I know it's mine.
Madison: (to me)Look at my Elmo.
Logan: (to me) No it's not. She's just pretending it's her Elmo and that's ok but it's mine.
Madison: No, it's my Elmo.

3. In the car coming home from the playground.
Logan: Can we go to the green Walmart today and I can spend my money on a Lizzie?
Mom: Probably not today.
Logan: Can we on Saturday.
Mom: I don't know if we will go to Walmart on Saturday.
Madison: NO! We don't go to the store on Saturdays.
Logan: No, that's Sundays. We can go to the store on Saturday.
Madison: NO NO No (interrupting every time Logan tries to talk to me)
Logan: Mom. Mom. Mom.
Mom: What? Tell me.
Logan: I can't until Madi stops talking.
Madi: No NO no.
Logan: Mom Mom
(you get the idea)

4. Over lunch today.
Madison: This is my mommy.
Logan: No, She is my mommy.
Madison: No she isn't your mommy, just mine.
Logan: Whatever, she's my mommy and your mommy.
Madison: My mom.
Logan: (sticking his fingers in his ears) WHATEVER. WHATEVER. WHATEVER. I know she's my mommy. WHATEVER.

Have you had enough yet?

Joe

First of all, this is Joe's music. Although I'm a huge fan of Joe, his music is not my favorite. That being said, I have to tell you about his new calling. Joe was called on Sunday to be the second counselor in the bishopric. I know that this calling will help him to grow and will be a blessing to our family. BUT, I can't say I'm too excited about it. Most of you know that Joe's work is...well, he works a lot. (Wouldn't it be great if husbands could stay home with us all day?) So I am pretty selfish about the time we have with him, and I'm not exactly looking forward to doing Sundays alone. On the up-side, I knew I married a wonderful man (so you see I'm just reaping the rewards of having a good husband) and I am so, so thankful that Logan, Madison, and Grant have such a great example of what a dad should be like. We love you Dad!

To Jenny

First of all, thanks for posting perhaps the most unflattering picture of me you could find. I do realize, however, that's it's (increasingly) difficult to find one where I look like anything but a spokesperson for Frito-Lay. What happened to all those pictures where people kept confusing me with Antonio Banderas? Did they get lost in the move?

Secondly, it is important to remember that "no man is an island." What Donne really meant when he said that was that no man could walk a straight line without his wife. You were there to make sure I studied when all I really wanted to do was watch Sportscenter reruns. You were there to deliver our children when the nurses tried to keep your feeble husband from fainting at the site of blood. And you are there every day when I come home depressed after being picked on by bullies at work. If it weren't for you, I'd probably be living in a van right now, down by the river . . . .

And finally, the only real value I can offer as far as being an example goes is how to marry WAY out of my league. I'm pretty good at that.

The Train

The recent train collision in China brought back memories of riding China’s “iron rooster.” (http://www.reuters.com/article/latestCrisis/idUSPEK337556)

Rather than a single day of festivities, China celebrates their independence for entire week. Jenny and I had been in China for about 2 months already in the fall of 2001, and we looked forward to our weeklong vacation to the capitol city.

Hefei to Beijing was a 16-hour train ride. We passed the time gazing over a countryside that looked remarkably like Oklahoma, and playing card games that I was forced to lose (happy wife, happy life). Upon arriving in Beijing’s Central station, I made sure to reserve tickets for our return carriage. I clarified with the man behind the glass—in my best Chinese—that our train would be originating from the Central station. He assured me that it was.

Week in Beijing: Wonderful! We saw the Great Wall, the Forbidden City, Tiananmen Square, and even had to show proof of foreign citizenship before we were allowed to attend church.

We waved that great (albeit smoggy) city goodbye as we drug our bags back into the Central station. We searched the gates to find our train, but became frantic when we realized that none of the gates matched our tickets. With only a few minutes to spare, we asked an attendant for help.

“Sorry,” she said, “these tickets are for the West station.”

It was too late to make the train. Worse, we had run out of money to buy a hotel room for another night, or more tickets to get back home. We took a cab over to the West station and spent the night on some benches (the staff was kind enough to offer pillows). We learned that, due to the holiday, all tickets to Hefei were taken, anyway. They would let us ride the train, but no seats would be available.

So we boarded. It might have quite possibly been the longest 16 hours of my life (except the 16 hours I spent taking the bar, and probably the 16 hours right before getting married, and maybe the 16 hours right after I got a speeding ticket in Colorado for going 76 in a 55 mph construction zone. Jenny didn’t like that one.) The train was overflowing with people. October was still hot, and perspiration filled the air. We had to stand in the back, which was the smoking section. We couldn’t sit on the ground; apparently the back of the train also doubled as a trash can.

We stood for the entire, overnight trip, the whole time Jenny thinking, “How could I have married this guy?” and me thinking, “I’m really grateful for this experience, because eventually it will be a lot more interesting to blog about standing up in the back of a dirty Chinese train overnight than to bore people with how we slept in a luxury compartment.”

Going to the Zoo, Visiting With Grandma, and Randomness

Whose Kids Are These?

Having three kids has been a blast..but let me tell you about our sleep last night. (By the way, we expect Grant to wake up at night. Logan and Madison have been sleeping through the night for, well, years.)

9:30 p.m. Grant eats and goes to bed.

10:00 Joe and I go to bed.

11:00 Madison needs to go potty.

12:30 Grant wakes up to eat.

1:30 Madison wakes up screaming--really screaming--for mom. Joe goes to see what's up. He has a hard time opening her door because she's standing behind it. He finally gets it open, she takes off running, leaps over the two steps that separate her room from the rest of the second floor, and crashes into Logan's closed door head first. She's still screaming. She comes and sits by me, I ask her what is wrong, and she tells me she hit her head. We calm her down and she gets back in her bed.

3:00 Logan wakes up yelling to us that he can't find his CARS book. We tell him we'll find it in the morning.

3:30 Madison needs to go potty again. (Note to self: no more drinks before bed.)

3:37 Grant wakes up and needs to eat.

5:00 Joe's alarm clock goes off. Time to start a new day.

SOOOO....whose kids are they? Today Logan stole Madi's blanket and ran around the house while Madison trailed him, screaming, "Give it back." I asked him why he liked to tease his sister. His answer: "Daddy likes to tease people and I like to tease people." So there you have it.

A Day in the Wild

Last Saturday, Logan and Madison took me to the Children's Museum in University Circle so that I could enjoy the last day of the Galapagos exhibit. Lucky for us, every other parent in Cuyahoga County had the same idea. Here are a few snapshots of our fun:

"Dad! Burying all 40 of these eggs in the sand, digging them up, and burying them over and over and over again is really fun!"

This was most educational. Here, Madison is checking out after shopping in the Museum's miniature supermarket. Everything looks so real. What was funny is that all these kids were acting as adults. So it was a lesson to me to see Madi grab a cart and just toss one of everything into her basket. Is that what we look like to kids? I guess I should really be impressed that she has on the counter healthy items; notice the box of Cheerios still on the shelf.

Don't be fooled by the raincoat. I'm convinced that it's a device to keep water in, not out.

Madi ready for her duck race.

I get the same look on my face when I'm driving.

Happy Birthday, Grant (1 month)

We can't believe that Grant is already 1 month old. Here are just a few things about Grant:

1. He started smiling real smiles! (We can tell by the way his eyes crinkle up with his smile.)

2. He stays awake a little more during the day (but he still wakes up every 3-4 hours at night to eat--but we still love him).

3. He loves to go for walks and look around (as long as he's not hungry).

4. He has a pretty severe case of baby acne (but he's still cute).

5. Logan and Madison (and mom and dad) enjoy singing Grant songs and watching him turn his head to see who the musician is.

6. He's a big eater and a big boy. He's grown out of most of his 0-3 month clothes and fits in many of his 3-6 month clothes.

Of course there is much more to write about him and our little family, but someone is crying for supper! If you are lucky, maybe Joe will post something too.

Joe's Addendum

There are only a few things extra that I think are important to understand this little bundle of bagpipes . . . er . . . joy.

7. He's nocturnal.

8. He's pretty white. He broke from tradition by sporting blue eyes, light, almost reddish hair, and very pale skin. We spent so much time worrying that Grant would grow up feeling out of place since his name didn't end in "n," like Logan and Madison. I think that's the last thing that is going to cross his mind when it comes to not fitting in.

9. He's a fighter. With the arrival of a Grant, Logan and Madison have upped the ante in terms of attention-grabbing behavior. Not to be outdone, Grant secures alone time with Mom and Dad by firing off false alarms. As soon as we leave his sight, he is quick to launch either the "I'm hungry" cry, the "my diaper is soaked" cry, or the infamous "could you turn me a little bit so I can see the TV?" cry, only to greet us with that devilish "I own you" smile when we get back.

Tooth Fairy

When Jenny reads this she'll likely delete it. So I'm here to post this while Jenny is semicomatose in some dentist's chair.

Jennifer is the paragon of dental hygiene. If she couldn't brush her teeth before bed, she wouldn't be able to sleep. She wears down a toothbrush quicker than she cycles through a gallon of milk.

So it came as a surprise to all when one day--probably about a month ago--we were sitting down at the dinner table when all of the sudden Jenny exclaims, "Whoa!" She dropped her fork and grew a very concerned look on her face. Quickly she had one had groping her dinner plate and the other tunneling through her mouth.

I was confused (she doesn't normally do that). "What's wrong?"

"Ah Thi Mah Thoo Boh."

"Huh?"

She removed her finger to inform me, "I think a part of my tooth just broke off . . . [continues searching] . . . yeah, look." She presents this tiny white spec like a gardener holding prized tulips freshly trampled by the neighbor kids. Sure enough, part of Jenny's tooth had indeed bitten the dust.

A few years ago Jenny had reported to dentists that she had a toothache. X-ray after x-ray failed to produce any diagnosis. Turns out that a filling two decades ago slowly weakened part of the tooth it was meant to fix.

So if there is a silver lining to this smear on her dental record (besides the new silver lining soon to be in her mouth), it is that Jenny has been vindicated.

(And for the record, I'm pretty sure Jenny cooked the meal that day.)

(Correction: I've just been reminded that it I cooked that injurious meal--meatloaf. I blame it on a new recipe I was trying. I was hoping this new take would be jaw-dropping, not jaw-breaking.)

Realizations

So it's been three weeks and one day since Grant became part of our family. I've realized a few things:

1. I still don't know what I'm doing. Let me explain. When I look back four years and six months I wonder just how Logan survived! I know the hospital nurses must have been worried about sending him home with us. But, he did survive, and he's a pretty good guy. This time I felt good about bringing home the new baby. However, I still don't know how to get babies to sleep through the night. (I do feel like I know how to take care of him, though. Knock on wood, but I haven't had any of those "what do I do?" moments. Yet.) I still don't know when I need to take kids to the doctor. This week Grant's eye started sticking together. Then it got swollen. I knew it couldn't be pink eye. I decided it was a clogged tear duct. The Internet tells me it's not a big deal--it will go away by itself. But I think it could be infected. First I call my mom and ask her what she thinks. Then I call and make an apt. Then I call a pediatrician in our ward (Thanks Sis. Pack). Then I call back 5 minutes later and cancel the apt. Then I wait a few hours and reschedule. It is a clogged tear duct, and it was infected, so now I get to put ointment in his eyes three times a day. As you can guess, Grant loves that!

2. Being tired makes me cranky. Ok, so I already knew that. Mix it up with some crazy hormones and three kids, and Mom becomes easily upset.


3. The chore chart works. Logan, especially, thinks it is fun to do chores so that he can put the star up. This makes mom less cranky--10 stars=movie. This gives me an hour of no fighting, time to rest, and a clean playroom!

4. I am so lucky to be a mom. It's challenging sometimes, but at the end of the day, when all three kids are tucked in their beds (for who knows how long) I count my blessings: Joseph, Logan, Madison, and Grant.



Joe. I tell him I married him because he ironed my clothes
and made me food while we were dating. I'm not joking--
that is why I "fell in love" with him. Not only does he
take care of our family financially, he still helps me around
the house. He loves to cook, he cleans, he plays
with the kids. He encourages me to go out with the girls and
to continue my education. And, he's funny. (Sorry, my posts
just can't compare with his!) What more could I ask for? I
am so lucky and thankful for my hubby.



Logan. Last night we played hide-and-seek. Logan found
some pretty good hiding places: under Madison's bed and
under his pillow. The problem? He wants us to find him!
He giggles loudly so we know exactly where he is. I hid in
my bedroom and quickly realized where he gets this from--
I wanted to giggle too, thinking how fun it was going to be
when he looked around the corned and discovered me!
Logan is smart. He's figured out that every letter has a
sound and we delight in asking him how to spell words and
hearing him sound out the word is thrilling. Our next step
is to figure out "oo" and "th" and other confusing sounds.
He's ready.




Madi. It's hard to pick which picture to post for Madison.
She, unlike Logan, is super quiet when playing hide-and-
seek. She gets that from Joe. She has just started to play
dress-up, and her funny faces make us laugh. She's a
girly-girl--she loves to paint her fingernails and has taken
up stick-on earrings. Yesterday she somehow got hold of
my blush. She came downstairs with orange cheeks and
a big smile.


Grant. He's only 3 weeks old, but he's already developing
his own personality. He's calm and content. I can't decide
if he's just a great baby or if I am becoming a better mom.
He's the first of our kids to sleep in the crib right away. Today
he played peek-a-boo with Madison. OK, he probably didn't
know what was going on, but he's put up with a lot from
a brother and sister who love him so much. He still hasn't
figured out how to sleep through the night, but that is my
only complaint. As of Tuesday (when we went to the dr.
for his eye) he weighed 9 lb. 8 oz. What a big boy! He
inherited some of me--the hook nose, and blue eyes
(which I realize will probably turn brown), and he's lighter
complected than the other kids. It's so fun to watch them
grow up and see who and what they will become.

3 Weeks Later

Still smells fresh!

Vote, Please.

Why do you check blogs? Do you prefer few pictures and lots of writing or many pictures with less writing?

Warming Up

Yesterday was my first real venture out by myself with
three kids. One of the reasons we bought our home was
because it is only one block away from a park that has
three (old) playgrounds (which are being rebuilt this
summer YAY!) and one very nice pool. So we bundled
up, I put Grant in the front pack carrier, and we walked
to the park. Our fingers got cold, but we loved the fresh
air and the exercise felt great.




We came home for lunch, but the kids wanted to keep
playing outside.

Little Moments

Logan and Madison have been fighting over the Peter
Pan/Robin Hood hat. Logan ultimately wins because it's
his. Dad had fun teaching the kids to love playing the
guitar.

Madison has been wanting to play dad's guitar for a while.

Joe sat down with her the other day and showed her how

to play. She thought that was pretty cool.

First Bath

The look on Grant's face is genuine: Pure relaxation. So relaxing in fact, that some of his internal organs relax as soon as his little body slides into the warm water of the tub. Every time.

"Thanks, Mom, for changing the water."

-signed, Grant.

What's in a Name?

In this picture, Madison is holding Grant. Only she doesn't know that his name is Grant. In fact, she thinks he's "Noah."

You'd think that a nine-month pregnancy was ample time to decide upon a name. If not, surely the birth of the baby would be a shot across the bow. But somehow we managed to make it a week and a half before we arrived at "Grant."

Jenny had her list of names. She favored the traditional. The Bible seemed the perfect source. Her top nominations were Noah and Ammon (Bible, Book of Mormon, take your pick).

Joe, on the other hand, used the "batter's box" test: Imagine a young man stepping up to the batter's box in the bottom of the last inning--tied ball game. As soon as that cleat crosses the chalk, the PA announces, "And next up to bat, number 7, _____________ McGregor." The name should send a nearly-visible shockwave across the opposing team's bleachers, leaving each individual separately thinking one collective thought: 'With a name like that, this kid's going to knock the heck out of the ball, and my child's life will be ruined.' This inspired Joe to nominate ESPN, Grant, and Nelson.

Normal couples would have compromised. One person offering the first while the other offered the middle was not an option; both parents wanted to pass down a name from Jenny's family. Originally we wanted Douglass, after Jenny's father, but later we settled on Benjamin, after Jenny's deceased brother.

"Gentlemanly Joe" offered the mother of his child, the woman that went through so much pain and agony to deliver this future Rhodes scholar, Heismann trophy winner, and eventual President, to name him as she wished. But she just couldn't bring herself to name him . . . at all. Each day went by with her vacillating between Benjamin Grant, Noah Benjamin, and various other combinations. Joe's co-workers began asking daily if the child finally had a name. Soon, they just stopped asking.

On Monday, March 31, the hospital called Jenny to remind her that the child still had no name. So she gave them one: Grant Joseph.