Mama Tried

The Party

I have really mixed feeling about (very young) children's birthday parties. There are two standard options here- one is that you rent a bounce house and an entertainer (Tinkerbell is big this year among Nathan's set) and go all out at your house with deluxe theme gift bags and basically buy out Party City, or you rent out an indoor play place/MyGym and they do all the work and it's just like another rainy day except you're stuck spending your weekend with parents you barely know.
I have one friend who does it really right- for her son's 3rd (near Halloween) birthday she had it at a nearby park, and set up one table to decorate pumpkin cookies and had a pumpkin pinata and pin the tail on the black cat and little sandwiches that she'd cut out with pumpkin cookie cutters, and cake and ice cream, the end. When Nathan got his thank you note, it had a picture of the birthday boy taped to the front and a picture of Nathan inside, eating cake. I swear, we read that thank you note over and over for months.
Anyway. I had decided once we started having friend parties we'd follow the rule that you never hear about any more but I remember from friends growing up- you'd get the same number of guests as your age. But I was not going to do a friend party this year because we are moving in three weeks and were very busy house hunting that weekend and it just seemed like too much stress. I figured we'd take Nathan on a train, make him a choo choo cake, and it'd be fine. (Grammy and Grandpa had also taken him to Disneyland, Legoland, and the San Diego Zoo earlier in the month, so it's not like we're denying him Birthday Extravagance.)  But every time we talked about the cake he said, "And my friends be there?"
So the Thursday before I sent out a last minute email to a handful of friends that we would be having cake and riding Angel's Flight on Saturday and we'd love them to come.  And exactly three friends (and two siblings) made it, adhering to the 3 for 3 rule, which was a good size.  We rode Angel's Flight twice, and I'm so glad we did it. I would have planned it better if I had the chance, but Nathan woke up this morning saying, "Remember when we ride that train? And Els be there? And Pranav and Nathan C.? I like ride that train." So for him it was a success.

THREE

Nathan is three years old today. I can hardly believe it. His first and second birthdays did not get to me at all- they were fun, he was getting older, there was cake- but this one is throwing me for a loop. Last night when I put him to bed I said, "This is the last time you'll say good night as a two year old!" and then I cried. I keep thinking about when he was born, and we brought him home, and how totally baffling he was- really, we just had no idea if/when he was hungry or tired or what the heck he wanted or needed.  And somehow we went from that to now- he's this hilarious, sweet, grown boy, and I almost always know what he wants and needs. (Probably more so than at any other point in his life- right now Nathan is an open book with me.)
And he's so happy to be Nathan. He loves to pretend, and will "Ribbit ribbit" around the room like a frog or get one of Buster's toys and be a dog (gross), but will always stop after a bit and shake his head and say, "No, I NATHAN!" like being Nathan is way better than being a robot or a monkey or Mommy or Daddy or whatever he's pretending to be. I hope he always feels that way.
I know everyone thinks their kids are the greatest but mine really are. To prove it, I give you what Nathan said to me at noon today, in an anxious/excited tone of voice: "Mommy, can I take a nap on my birthday?"

Nine Months

Baby James is nine months old today. Pretty soon he's not going to let me call him Baby James any more. He is great- he is waving, and clapping, and saying "more" and "bye." He laughs all the time. He just pulled himself up for the first time yesterday (trying to get into Nathan's crib to see Nathan, his favorite person) and is finally putting weight on his legs when you hold him up.
Yesterday at the park a mom was asking me about the spacing between Nathan and James, and what it was like having two, and then she said, "Well, do you love one more than the other?" Which, you know, I worried about. I didn't see how I could love a kid as much as Nathan. And then Baby James was born and he has been so delightful I worried that it would seem like I loved James more. I love them both, and they are both so different, and I wouldn't want either of them to be anyone but who they are. I don't think I could have understood that before they were both here.  
Of course, it is also very easy to love James now that he is down to waking up only once a night. I bet if he slept through I'd love him even more.

Doctor's Visit

My favorite short story of all time is "People Like That Are The Only People Here" by Lorrie Moore. It begins with blood in a baby's diaper and fortunately ends well for said baby but is not exactly the kind of narrative you'd wish on your baby.  I've read it about a zillion times and so when I saw some blood in James' diaper this morning, I freaked out. I called his pediatrician, and the nurse, I could tell, kept misunderstanding me, thinking I meant there was blood in his stool (sorry, y'all, this is going to get grody) and assuring me it was no biggie and I could bring him in if I really wanted to but it was not urgent. This is the same nurse who, when I called concerned that James didn't seem to be gaining at 3 months, assured me he was fine and nursing plenty when in fact he had lost weight and I'd pretty much stopped producing any milk, so I was not brimming with confidence in her opinions to begin with
Anyway. I called back and got a little tear-y with the receptionist when they kept saying they couldn't get him in until Friday and finagled an appointment this afternoon.
James has also had a cold- he ran a fever on Saturday, and since then I've been obsessively taking his temperature because that's what I do. He's been fine, fever wise, so I was shocked when we got in and the nurse took his temperature and it was 102. She was all, "Good thing you brought him in!" and I did not say, "YOU THINK" but instead just quietly freaked out.  She moved me to another room (never a good sign) and then the doctor came in and was all, "Wait, blood in his URINE?" She kind of tensed up a little and remained calm but said, "You know, that's not normal," and when I showed her the original diaper she got very quiet.Her body language alone told me that she was more concerned than usual.  (I don't love her nurse but I do love our doctor- she is smart and calm and really seems to like my kids, and they like her- as we left later Nathan said, "I love going to see Dr. XXX!" Maybe because he just got to play with the exam room toys the whole time.)
She examined him and when she checked his ears she said, "Oh, he has an ear infection!!" I hadn't even thought of that, since he was in his normal good spirits, but she said that must be causing the fever and I could see her relax a little. Then when she checked his diaper she saw a)a speck more blood b)a tiny little scratch on his penis. (I am sorry, James, for talking about your penis on the internet.) I had not seen the scratch before, and I had checked, but I saw it then, and oh, we were both so relieved. 
I've been lucky that both boys are so healthy- this was the first ear infection either of them have ever had- and was reminded again today how truly important that is. Seriously, I do not think there has ever been anyone happier about a scratched penis.

THIS is what I remember 3 year olds being like

I have felt pretty lucky about Nathan's Terrible Twos. They were not very terrible- he had tantrums, yes, but overall was pretty agreeable and not crazy or destructive or out of control.  I remember my brothers at 2 and 3, and they were pretty good, too, but had a tendency to break things or make huge messes, and they had little friends who were true terrors (as does Nathan), and with Nathan not even making huge messes, I felt blessed.
Last night I was putting James to bed and I heard Nathan running the sink in the bathroom. I assumed he was brushing his teeth.  When I got to him, he had put his toothbrush and James' toothbrush in the sink. And two washcloths, and three books. Books! Under water! 
"Look, Mommy! I make a river."
I think the age of the easy to manage two year old is ending.

Our Juice Person

Yesterday Jeff was drinking some vile green wheatgermy juice and offered some to Nathan, who declared that he loved it (he didn't) and then asked me to have some, too. I said no, Nathan offered again, and Jeff said, "You know, Mommy's not really a juice person." Nathan thought about this before agreeing. "Mommy a water person. I a juice person."