Friday Night

So, I'm old (I think), or am I?  As I write this, many people my age (or younger) are out partying it up, drinking, and having what they refer to as "a good time" (I completely skipped that phase of my life and jumped right into marriage and family) so that tomorrow they can puke there guts out and remain completely worthless all day just so that they can do it all again that night and puke again the next morning (why?).  Meanwhile, I'm at home with my family.
Tonight was just another Friday night in our house; actually it really started out not any different from any other night.  While the baby is on her third nap, the 2-year old wakes up from his nap, but this time he's ever crabbier than he was before he took his nap.  Since he was finally awake, I could start making supper without having to worry about waking him up, because it was almost time to start the supper making process, but I couldn't....  He was WAAAY too mad at the world to let me even attempt to make supper (let's also not forget that he's been sick for a week).  We popped in "Peter Pan" (I don't know what we'll do if the DVD wears out on us).  And finally, it was actually time to attempt making supper (NOTE: my husband was unavailable as a distractor because he was working on our other house).

Now, I'm just assuming that since you are reading a blog about anything and everything related to children then you are either a parent or someone who works with children frequently (teacher, daycare, etc.).  So, you more than likely know how difficult it is to cook with a happy toddler let alone a grumpy toddler.  Well, long story short, we survived it and averted as many toddler crisis' as possible.

Skipping an unimportant part of the story... my baby started to basically crawl across the floor.  I was SO excited!  She did half crawl and half army crawled, but none the less, she crawled!  About 8 feet!  I was excited!  Mater was excited and helped me coax her into crawling!  We videotaped it, and we even called Daddy to tell him.

I looked up a music video for Lonestar's "Mr. Mom."  I hadn't heard that song in ages, so Mater and I sung and dance to that followed my some Elmo on IHeartRadio.  Then, when Daddy got home, we looked up some good 'ol fashioned twangy country music (Johnny Cash), because Daddy didn't like "Twinkle Twinkle."  The night ended with a family dance party in the living room with Johnny Cash.  It was great!  Fun was had by all.  Even little miss had fun; she watched us dance from the comfort of her Jumperoo and showed Daddy her newfound crawling skills (fyi she is a FAST little turkey).

Now, I am sitting here at 8:51 PM where.  Everybody in the house is sleeping, except for Mommy.  I'm just left with my thoughts and all the love I feel for my family.  I feel like the luckiest woman in the world because I get to spend my Friday nights with these three wonderful people whom I adore more than words can express.  I would be nothing without them.  They make me whole. (Maybe I'll go play some "Sims 2" for a little bit before bed.)

"You're S-s-mart!"

Ah... sibling love.  Isn't it beautiful?

From the moment Mater met Dorothy at the hospital, he has absolutely adored her.  I'll admit that when I was pregnant I wasn't sure how Mater would handle being a big brother.  I thought he would be very jealous, which would make everything more difficult for me to deal with.  The reason I thought he would be jealous of a baby brother or sister is because when my parent's or I would hold one of his cousins, he would get jealous and "need" to be held too, for all of five seconds.  

But, the little lady was born, and he has never been jealous of her, as far as I can tell.  I don't know if it's just his nature or if it has more to do with the fact that when we got home from the hospital with her, nothing changed with the relationship we had with him.  I still got on the floor and played with him, we still talked, we still read books, and I still smothered him in hugs and kisses.  (Of course, going back to PPD, I unfortunately cared more about Mater when we got home from the hospital than I did baby girl.)

The first time he held her, he held her for 15+ minutes, and the only reason he stopped was because it was time for him to let somebody else hold her.  When we got home from the hospital, he liked to help a lot (still does) with his baby sister.  He liked to hold and feed her.  He would watch me change her diaper, get a diaper for her, put bottles in the sink, etc. (this later fostered into him helping me with everything around the house).

Reading to baby sister

Now, he likes to read to and play tractors, trucks, and dinosaurs with his sister.  Just yesterday, he was sharing his BIG combine, present from Santa, with her.  He constantly hugs and kisses her.  He expresses what my sister and I call "angry love," which is hugging and kissing someone that you love SO MUCH that you shake when you do it.  My mom tells Mater how smart he is, so now he tells his sister while giving her a angry love kiss, "You're s-s-MART!"to for my

While I never have liked the thought of having kids less than 3 years apart in age, I have found some positive things about it; I've had to in order for me to heal.  One of those positive things is how close they are.