The list of other things I should be doing is so long

So Ben was out of town for work (which SUCKED for me, and since it's all about me all the time: Waaaaaaah), and Harry came in my bed at 4:18 this morning. He didn't say a word, just snuggled up to me and threw his arms around my neck. And started squirming. And kicking. And tossing and turning.

"Harry," I said. "If you can't stop moving around you'll have to go back to your rocket ship." I meant to say fire truck, duh, because the kid sleeps in a fire truck. I have no idea where rocket ship came from. Harry stiffened as soon as I said it and started to cry.

Because it was 4 am and I was as dumb as a bag of hammers it took me a few minutes to figure out what was going on, which was this: He had a dream about evil aliens (thanks to the Scooby Doo "Space Ape at the Cape" episdoe that he watches over and ove even though it is clearly too old for him) abducting his dad, and when I mentioned a rocket ship, he thought his dream must have been true.

The dramz. It is like we live with a teenager sometimes.

And a very serious toddler.

Jack was so happy to see Ben at swim lessons today. The little traitor screamed Dada and affixed himself permanently to Ben's lap, periodically scrambling up to cover his dad's face with kisses. He's a daddy's boy for sure, which is cool because as I was walking Harry into school the other morning, I asked him who his favorite person in the world is, and he replied without hesitation, "You are, my mama."

That's why we'l have to have another someday. To break the tie.

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Weekend Update

Last weekend, my mom

and my brother came to visit

and they brought a bunch of stuff for Harry and Jack, including some pretty awesome novelty candy from my dad's store. harry loved eating these creepy little lightening bugs that glowed when he pinched them with the special tweezers. I made him a lovely organic lunch on Saturday, in fact, and he eschewed it in favor of gummy bugs. Neat.

My mom and brother and I went shopping on Friday night, and I moped around Forever 21 while they both bought tons of stuff. I went home all sulky and disillusioned because before I went to the mall, I thought my boyfriend jeans, hoodie, and beat up Pumas looked cute, but in the middle of sequins and flounced skirts and cool open-toed heels with tights, I felt like a frumpy old mom. I was so overwhelmed by all the new styles (and I haven't bought any clothes since August and even then it was just a pair of boyfriend jeans and a T-shirt from Old Navy and some socks from the $1 bin at Target, all of which I was rocking at the mall.

To make matter worse, my hair which I thought I dyed back to brown is turning red again. Blurgh.

Saturday we went back to the mall (after Ben and my mom took the kids to Toys R Us and bought them whatever they wanted-- Santa is going to have a hell of a time finding anything they don't already have, and 8 nights of Hanukkah? We'll have to be creative), so Ben could buy shoes, and I forced myself to try on an armload of clothes at H&M-- and miracle of miracles, they all fit (thanks mom!) and I came home refreshed and updated. I even found a flouncy skirt, tights, and open-toed heels in my very own closet.

So you can all breathe a sigh of relief that I have solved my latest sartorial conundrum. Even my husband Ben (not to be confused with my brother Ben) found a polo and a sweater vest, and hell has to freeze over for that guy to buy himself any item of clothing.

Oh my holy hell. If you think this is boring, WAIT FOR NABLOPOMO!

After my mom and my brother went home, we decided to carve our pumpkin and paint our teeny pumpkins (because they were all starting to smell a little not so fresh, if you know what I mean (I have no idea why I wrote that last bit-- it's not like we douched them or anything) (geez. not funny. I need to quit while I am ahead today) (also, good thing I have a bunch of writing to do today because clearly, I am UNSTOPPABLY BRILLIANT))

Hard to get good pictures because our deck is teeny tiny teeny (more of a balcony really) and because Harry and Jack were little zombies who just wanted to nom pumpkin brains

Washable finger paints? Not the best at covering pumpkins

Totally awesome for baby hair, though

I am at work right now (shut up), and this picture just makes me want to nom his little face off (not in a zombie way)

Brandishing a hunk of pumpkin eye

ZOMBIES! (was that funny? 3 is funny, right? kumquat).

For realz. Drink up, man.

Jack was an unstoppable pumpkin scraper. Jack the scraper.

Then they took a bath to wash off the paint, but they both lost their shit, so I had to let them take the paint in the tub which totally defeated the purpose of the bath and gave Jack a wicked cheek rash. WINNER!

On Sunday we played hooky from housework and went to the zoo because who knows when we'll have another 55 and sunny weekend around here. This seemed like a good idea until we actually got to the zoo and saw that it was Trick or Treat and had to go home and get costumes (also, it did not seem like a good idea at 10:30 when Ben and I were still cleaning the house. Boo.) ( But oh my god Curb was funny Sunday night, huh?)
Here's Jack in the ducky costume Harry wore on his 2nd Halloween

Harry as Mr. Incredible wearing the costume my mom and dad got him for dress up (we are saving their actual costumes for the festivities later this week/weekend)

Harry's incredible muscles

The incredibly ridiculous trick or treat line that we waited in for an hour because Harry would not be dissuaded even though I said he could trick or treat the candy aisle at Target until he passed out from all the sugar if only he would let us leave.

Jack loved reading the brochures that some of the booths were handing out instead of candy (the Cave of the Mounds booth was handing out rocks. ROCKS? Are you kidding me? Who gives kids ROCKS in their candy buckets???)

Once the line started to move, Harry went to like 3 booths and then almost fell asleep standing up,

so we finally got to leave. At home, he ate a tiny box of strawberry Nerds candy by impossibly small candy and told us Nerds are his favorite because they are "reawwy sour."

And now you know absolutely everything about my weekend. Lucky you.

Happy Birthday Jon!

Hope you have a fantastic day, and Harry and Jack just wanted to say a little something just to you...

Happy Birthday Jon! from sarah on Vimeo.

All vaxed up and nowhere to go. Wait, scratch that-- now we're going EVERYWHERE

When Harry had the plague the other week, we had to cancel our flu shot appointments because he was sick. The nurse at our pediatrician's office told us we couldn't reschedule because their official line was that they were out of the seasonal flu shot. But, she told us, they had enough vaccines to give to babies who came in for their well-child check ups, and if we brought the whole family we could all get vaccinated under the table kind of.

That's what we did-- we kept Harry out of school, causing him to miss a field trip to a nature conservancy to get a shot in the leg- ha!. It always sucks to bring the whole fam to well-child visits because with all of us crammed in the exam room, we don't get to give Jack's development the attention it deserves. The highlight of the trip came when our doctor said we are obviously doing a great job with our kids in regards to positive discipline because we are so good at making them do what we want them to do. I looked at Harry and said, "Ha ha, you're brainwashed," and he leapt from his chair and kicked me in the shins. Then we all cracked up, even Jack, who I am sure had no idea what was funny because he was too busy licking the diseased exam-room books.

When our doctor told us that he had the H1N1 vaccine and the seasonal shot, we were like, "Bonus!" and Harry got the H1N1 mist and a seasonal shot; Jack got both in shot form, and Ben and I both got our seasonal shots. (We have to get the OK from our own doctors to get the HN1 vaccine because he lacks a kidney and my autoimmune disease is flaring up. Luckily the boys both need 2 doses of H1N1, so when we go back in 30 days, Ben and I can get misted, too).

My point is we got the shots without a second thought-- were happy to get them. But then I came home and started reading Facebook and the creepy message board I frequent and found all these stories of moral agony as parents wrestled with the vaccine question. And then all these people would respond to discussion threads about how "they" rushed out the shot, or our society is too vaccine happy, or the flu is all media hype anyway.

What the hell? If infectious disease doctors, pediatricians, the AAP, the CDC, doctors with degrees in public health, etc are warning against this strain of flu and advising a flu vaccine, WHY DON'T YOU TRUST THEM? Is there something I am missing here? Where is the moral agony?

The thimerosol argument is surfacing again (although there is a mercury-free version of the vax), but even the link between vaccines and autism is NOT a proven link, so what's the deal?

I've used my library databases and journal indexes (as well as Dr. Google) to do some research, and I haven't found ANYTHING that makes me think twice about the shot, so where does this drama come from? What am I missing? Please, enlighten me because I am really confused.

18 months

Jack, you are 18 months old, which doesn't seem possible. Actually, you were 18 months old a few days ago, but you are baby #2, so your big milestones don't always get prompt attention. Sorry about that, dude. Also, it has been a year since I put pictures in albums, so someday if you find dusty boxes of yourself at the pumpkin patch or the tree farm or the yard and you see Harry is all those places on album pages, sorry about that, too.

This is you the day after on your 18 month birthday, which you celebrated by shitting your pants at 5:40 a.m. and coming in our bed. On a Saturday. We stayed up late to celebrate the big 1-8 by drinking a bottle of sulfite-free yippie wine, so 5:40? Not good for us. That's why we kept telling you to go back to sleep instead of changing your pants. I thought that smell was your dad's breath. Which? An honest mistake, I assure you.

Still, you were snuggly and kept throwing yourself down on the pillow when I would hiss at you that it was still night night time. Each time I fell asleep (not an easy task with that smell! and those kicky little feet in my throat!) you would wake me up with a giant kiss, accompanied by an earful of mouth and a large "muah" sound.

Here we are at the grocery store where we spend our Sunday mornings. Your dad and Harry were with us, but they left for a second to run next door to the party store and buy a bag of plain balloons because the one attached to your cart? Was our 3rd balloon of the morning, and Harry lost his marbles when balloon #2 hit the rafters.


You actually are a really sucky grocery store helper these days because you like to reach behind you and pull things out of the basket and eat them, plastic and all. Not cool. You are very good at spotting Dora the Explorer on all manner of processed food packaging, though. And I have to break your heart a thousand times when I tell you no D-d-d (that's what you call her) cookies or fruit snacks or HFCS crunchies or whatever the hell she's shilling. As we breezed by the canned soup while scouting out steak for our tacos, you saw her on a can of condensed sodium o's or some crap, and I bought it because it was the least unhealthy Dora product in the store. Nice work my little licensed character lover.

You also saw these jammies at Target and wanted them so badly we had to get some for you and for H. When you saw them in the store you screamed, "Zhuh," which is what you call Buzz Lightyear, and when you saw them on yourself, you almost vomited with delight:


You love your brother so much, but you wish he would stop hitting you. I think you feel bad when you have to bite him, but you are a baby who doesn't take no crap from no one, so you don't have a choice, really. The other day, Harry pushed you away with both of his hands, and you fell on your butt. You looked sad for a moment. The you screamed, got up, stalked over to Harry, grabbed him by the shirt collar, and head butted him until he fell down. Then you bit him on the stomach. Then you walked away and sat down on a bean bag chair to read a book. Your dad and I watched you slack-jawed and a little intimidated.

You, Jack, are the baby who made us want more babies because that is how wonderful and adorable and sweet and fragrant your are. As you toddle away from babyhood and toward preschooldom (seriously-- you. preschool. next fall. crazy) on legs that have calf muscles on the bottom and rolls of fat still on the thighs (that goodness), we miss the tiny you as much as we can't wait to meet you the little person you'll be. That's why you have a straggly baby mullet and wear snap-crotch onesies and still drink a bottle when you want one-- because we're hanging onto baby Jack just a little longer.

Here you are ecstatic because when you stand on the little stool, you are finally tall enough to stick your head in the polar bear cut-out at the zoo. You were totally blissed out toddling around the empty zoo-- empty of people and, strangely, empty of animals, except for the seals who were totally showing off.


Here you are doing your best trick, Jack-Jack.

Jack O'Monster from sarah on Vimeo.

Thanks for humoring me, little buddy. I love you.

Special magical pumpkin time*

*Becca called her pupkin pictures by that name, and it cracked me up
If you look closely at this picture, you will notice Harry's shoes are on the wrong feet. They were on the wrong feet the whole time we went through the "Harold Potterson" haunted house and picked our pumpkins. Ooops. Also, notice he is covered with pumpkin gore.


That's because we went here to get our pumpkins:

After we stumbled around this huge muddy field and pulled gushy pumpkins from dried out vines, we noticed hay trucks full of beautiful, hard, round, clean pumpkins for sale near the check out stand. Thumbs up indeed, Ben. Thumbs up indeed.


Embiggen this one to see how pissed off Harry and Jack were-- they fighting over who got to pull the wagon. Which? A stupid fight because our pumpkins weighed like more than jack and neither one them was strong enough.

Wimpy toddler:

Wimpy preschooler:

The Harold Potterson thing? Adorable!
First they climbed through the Hogwarts train

Then they played a little Quidditch

Next, they went through Hagrid's haunted house which sccared the shit out of Harry. That's cool. Sleeping through the night is so lame anyway Nightmares ROCK.

They threw some tennis balls at Dudley

This swing set was in the middle of Hogwarts and had no purpose other than to make freak about mud

and show us that Jack is too tall for baby swings

The whole exhibit culminated in a tiny little corn maze. Harry has an excellent sense of direction and a solid sense of self importance

Jack dug it, too

Notice their little yarn necklaces? They got those after visiting the Sorting Hat. Harry was a Gryffindor (DUH-- He's HARRY), and Jack was a Ravenclaw, which? Totally! I can totally see that!

In conclusion, they both ate pumpkin pie for breakfast.

Helicopter Dad

Harry's class went to the hospital today to tour the med flight helicopter. Jack and I were not invited. Well Jack was not invited, and he and I are pretty much a pair.

So Ben helped escort Harry and his cute little classmates on their very first field trip.









I think they had fun.

Ben said Harry asked his teachers no fewer than 4 times when it would be time for snack. It didn't even seem like they were planning to have snack-- even Harry commented on the paper cups instead of the glasses they normally use. But they found some graham crackers in a cabinet probably because our kid was so damn hungry.

Oh! The pilot's name was Gil, and Harry keeps calling him Guilt-- cracks me up every time.