Thursday, January 26, 2012
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
First sleep-over
Xander had his first sleep-over tonight at my house.
The others have had theirs at different ages; but Xander seemed about ready now that he's in his late twos.
He is able to sit and discuss things with me now, and enjoys exploring at Nana's house and asking questions.
I did a little video of him at breakfast time while we were alone.
The first thing he said to me when I was getting the camera ready was "Where are your glasses?"
I had forgotten to put them on that morning, with checking on three overnight visitors, scampering around to get the ingredients ready for their breakfast and trying to just "be ready" for them as they were all waking up.
They chose to use the blow-up queen-sized mattress to use out in the living room, so they could watch TV as they got tired. The baby was to sleep on the couch, with the reclining foot rests put up, for extra safety.
I got everyone all covered up and went to bed.
Then at 2 a.m. I abruptly awoke to Xander calling "Nana, Nana..." and he was crying.
I had left small lights on here and there, but I guess he sat up and realized he was not at home.
That's when I took him into our bed.
He slept like a log.
I slept like a woman who had small feet in her face and small arms bumping into me for the remaining 3 1/2 hours of the night.
Then we got up and had some time together before I started cooking for everyone and cleaning up the kitchen, which is quite a juggling task while being followed by a helpful 2 year old.
They left yesterday and I miss them already.
The others have had theirs at different ages; but Xander seemed about ready now that he's in his late twos.
He is able to sit and discuss things with me now, and enjoys exploring at Nana's house and asking questions.
I did a little video of him at breakfast time while we were alone.
The first thing he said to me when I was getting the camera ready was "Where are your glasses?"
I had forgotten to put them on that morning, with checking on three overnight visitors, scampering around to get the ingredients ready for their breakfast and trying to just "be ready" for them as they were all waking up.
They chose to use the blow-up queen-sized mattress to use out in the living room, so they could watch TV as they got tired. The baby was to sleep on the couch, with the reclining foot rests put up, for extra safety.
I got everyone all covered up and went to bed.
Then at 2 a.m. I abruptly awoke to Xander calling "Nana, Nana..." and he was crying.
I had left small lights on here and there, but I guess he sat up and realized he was not at home.
That's when I took him into our bed.
He slept like a log.
I slept like a woman who had small feet in her face and small arms bumping into me for the remaining 3 1/2 hours of the night.
Then we got up and had some time together before I started cooking for everyone and cleaning up the kitchen, which is quite a juggling task while being followed by a helpful 2 year old.
They left yesterday and I miss them already.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Hello 2013...a little early
Well, it's the usual. People went out and partied or stayed home with family or friends and saw the new year of 2012 arrive.
New York shared Cee Lo Green and Lady GaGa with the world, and let that ball drop again while everyone did the count down.
All week we'll be reminding ourselves to write the new year, 2012, on checks and paperwork. It will seem so foreign to most of us.
It's already the subject of conversation as people lament about the loss of 2011 and no one can understand just where it went.
This is always an adjustment period, and I, along with the rest of the world, will be adjusting.
I don't particularly like to mark the passing of time by erasing what I've written. Looking at new calendars will give us pause to remember that we're about to face new happenings, and not all of them will be unique adventures. People will pass on to their just rewards and new people will arrive on the planet, with the hopes and dreams of their families attached to them.
Last night I suddenly came up with an idea for this year. Albeit it a strange one...I have decided to practice writing 2013 here and there. I might even say it aloud.
It's all part of my plan to sidestep the "adjustment" one year from now. If I begin thinking and writing and speaking about 2013, I can skip the newness and shock of it next year.
I no longer make resolutions, which seemed to be expected of people everywhere when I was young. So, this isn't actually a "resolution" but it's my New Year Idea.
I have to go practice writing 2013 now.
Just not on checks.
New York shared Cee Lo Green and Lady GaGa with the world, and let that ball drop again while everyone did the count down.
All week we'll be reminding ourselves to write the new year, 2012, on checks and paperwork. It will seem so foreign to most of us.
It's already the subject of conversation as people lament about the loss of 2011 and no one can understand just where it went.
This is always an adjustment period, and I, along with the rest of the world, will be adjusting.
I don't particularly like to mark the passing of time by erasing what I've written. Looking at new calendars will give us pause to remember that we're about to face new happenings, and not all of them will be unique adventures. People will pass on to their just rewards and new people will arrive on the planet, with the hopes and dreams of their families attached to them.
Last night I suddenly came up with an idea for this year. Albeit it a strange one...I have decided to practice writing 2013 here and there. I might even say it aloud.
It's all part of my plan to sidestep the "adjustment" one year from now. If I begin thinking and writing and speaking about 2013, I can skip the newness and shock of it next year.
I no longer make resolutions, which seemed to be expected of people everywhere when I was young. So, this isn't actually a "resolution" but it's my New Year Idea.
I have to go practice writing 2013 now.
Just not on checks.
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