The Big Boy Bed (alternate title: We are never going to sleep again)

Our little Huck was finally getting to a point where he could climb out of his crib, so we introduced the toddler bed this past weekend.  Frankly he’s not a fan, and we are struggling with keeping him in bed or even in his room for that matter.  The first night was rough.  The second night was better and gave me hope.  Last night he really fought it.  Here is the play by play…

 

7:15: I tuck him in and we say goodnight

7:25 I hear him moving around and he comes out to say he’s done with his nap and wants to play

7:26 I tuck him in and we say goodnight.  Before I am even out of the room he is up and following me.

7:28 I put up a gate at his bedroom door and tuck him in.  We say goodnight.

7: 55 I hear a crash as he uses brute force to knock down the gate.  He of course, came crashing down with it and is startled/upset.  We rock for a little while in the rocking chair while he calms down.  Meanwhile, Hubby tucks Tom into bed (the boys share a room).

8:10 I tuck him in and we say goodnight  (Tom is now asleep)

8:20 Another crash and “Mommy, I fell out of my room again!!”

8:22 I tuck him in and we say goodnight

8:35 I hear him talking and suspect he’s looking at a book.  Sure enough when I go to his room, he has turned on all his lights and is sitting on the floor between the two beds, “reading” a book about trains.  Tom?  Still sleeping.

8:36 I turn out all the lights.  I tuck him in and say goodnight.

8: 50 He starts yelling for me to come to his room.  I don’t want him to wake his brother so I go.  He has moved all of his blankets, stuffed animals and his pillow to the floor and states that he’s having a sleepover.  He wants me to join him.  I decline.

8:52 I remake his little bed, tuck him in and we say goodnight

9:15 I hear giggling.  A lot of giggling.  I go to see what’s happened.  He is grinning and points to his brother’s bed.  “See Mommy, I covered Tom with animals!  It’s funny!”  Sure enough, my first born is now buried under a pile of plush animals.  He is still sleeping soundly, oblivious to it all.

9:16 Huck helps me remove all the stuffed animals from on top of his brother

9:18 I tuck him in and we say goodnight

9:30 He wanders out (I’ve given up on the gate at this point) and states that he’s ready to watch some Handy Manny and maybe have a snack.  I say no to both.

9:32 I tuck him in and we say goodnight.  After a while, all is quiet and I start to think he’s fallen asleep.  I tiptoe down the hall to check.  I open his door and there he is, standing perfectly still in the middle of his dark room.  “Hi Mommy.”

9:35 I tuck him in and we say goodnight

9: 45 He starts to cry because he can’t find his blanket.  I go back and find it for him.  I tuck him in and we say goodnight.

10:00 Out he comes again.  This time I find him in front of our Christmas tree.  “Isn’t it lovely, Mommy?” 

10: 02 I tuck him in and we say goodnight

10: 30 He’s out of his room again.  The Christmas tree is like a toddler magnet.  The lights are off now and that makes him mad. 

10:32  I give up.  I take him to the couch and we lay down together.  He hates this, but I no longer have faith that he’ll go to sleep solo – maybe ever again.  After maybe ten minutes of whining/crying,  he is out like a light.

 

In sleep he is all innocence and sweetness, and in the morning he wakes up his usual happy go lucky self.  Tonight was a little better, but not by much.  We are hatching plans to keep him in his room, but aren't super confident in any of them.  We shall see.  What we do know, is that even though we are tired - we wouldn’t give up these fun little adventures for anything.  I am very thankful for boys who don't sleep and for boys who can sleep through anything!  They are both an amazing blessing.

Tornado Season & What Really Matters

I live in the Midwestern United States.  We are known for corn fields, pig farms, a low-ish cost of living, friendly folks and tornadoes.  The tragic and unfortunate events in Oklahoma lately underscore the season. 

I hate tornadoes.  While certain folks might hear the tornado siren and run for the basement, flashlight in hand (me)…  others hear that same siren and jump into a vehicle that they will then use to CHASE said tornado in hopes of… okay, I honestly have no idea why they do it, but they do.  At any rate, I guarantee you that I’ll never be one to willingly put myself in a tornado’s path.

Sidebar: I do really like the movie Twister, but only if I’m watching it at home in maybe December.

Tom (my almost five year old) is learning about weather in a very high-level kind of way at pre-school.  Mostly they talk about the seasons and rainbows and how precipitation impacts plant growth – that sort of thing.  It was almost all he knew about weather until recently.  We are very careful that our boys don’t watch the news.  There is just too much stuff that they are too young to see and/or understand.  This has especially applied when it comes to violent crime and weather disasters.  So even though we had kept the lid on the true horrors of the tornado season, he got the info another way.  One of his little friends ended up telling him about tornadoes at school, and Tom became worried.  Really worried.  After that, every crack of thunder, every rain shower, every bleep of radar coming from the tv or radio – became a panicky moment for Tom. 

I found a bunch of books for children that had been written about tornadoes and we spent an evening reading all the bits that I thought might help him better understand and hopefully put him at ease.  We listened to the weather radio and I explained how important it was to be prepared and to act quickly in the event of a real tornado.  It seemed to help.  He drew a picture to show what he’d learned.  We even created a ‘nest’ of sorts under our basement stairs which all four of us can fit into.  He tried it out and was satisfied that we could shelter there if needed.  We added a gallon of drinking water, some flashlights and a first aid kit for good measure.  This calmed Tom down a lot.

Then, we went on vacation. 

Every year, we drive (about 500 miles southeast) to my Grandma’s house.  She lives on a sweet, simple little farm with my bachelor uncle.  They raise cows and plant row crops.  They have big gardens and put up a large percentage of their own food.  Going there for a few days every year is the perfect get-away for me.  My usual life is busy and crazy and cram-packed with stuff.  Going to Grandma’s is like a breath of fresh air.  Life (for those few days) slows down and brings me a renewal of sorts which helps me focus on the ones I love and the things that matter.

Tom on vacation

This year, after a lovely visit with the family on the farm, we headed back home – stopping for a few days in St Louis on our way back to break up the trip.  We had a lot of fun there – children’s museum, science center, planetarium, shopping, exploring parks etc. 



Huck and I at Grandma's house



On one particular night I was giving a bath to the boys at the hotel.  Hubby was watching the weather on TV as some bad storms were brewing in the area.  He was watching the weather alerts carefully just in case we needed to seek shelter.  As I was washing Tom’s and Huck’s hair and they were splashing each other and playing with plastic dinosaurs, I remarked to Hubby that there must be a party across the hall - as people outside our room were being unusually loud.

It wasn’t much later - we were all snug in our PJs - when the sirens began to wail.  I grabbed Tom’s hand and told him we were going to the hallway.  Tom - clutching his fuzzy bunny “Charlie” tightly, nervously accompanied me to the door.  Hubby had Huck in his arms and they were right behind us.  Our room was on the ground floor and we knew our best bet for safety would be the hallway directly in front of our room.

Evidently, that had also been the first thought of every other hotel occupant that night, as when we tumbled/rushed through our door; we saw that the entire hallway was lined with maybe a hundred folks also seeking shelter – and most of them staring at us.  Clearly they had been there a while and none (or at least very few) of them were wearing their pajamas.  It turned out we were in a different county than we’d thought we were, and we had been under a tornado warning for some time without realizing it.  The ‘party’ I’d heard outside our hotel room had in fact been a bunch of nervous folks hunkering down in hopes that the storm would blow over.

Huck was oblivious to any danger.  He’s not quite two and was excited to be doing something different.  He giggled and played peek-a-boo with his Daddy and sang ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’ to anyone who would listen.  Meanwhile, I tried to console Tom.  He was beside himself with worry and was clutching onto both me and Charlie the stuffed rabbit for dear life.  “I don’t like this at all!” he kept telling me over and over.  I didn’t like it either.  We prayed together and that seemed to help him.  After a while, the hotel staff sent someone to tell us the warning had expired and we could go back to our rooms.

We did exactly that, very thankful that ours was only a scare and nothing serious.  After all the excitement, the boys both required more bedtime stories than usual and some extra snuggles – both of which we were happy to provide.  Eventually we all settled down and slept.  We were lucky and blessed.  That same night, a cluster of storms had hit Oklahoma for the second time in less than two weeks – leaving many dead and many others without homes.

Tornadoes are horrible, tragic and fearsome things.  They scare me more than I even want to admit, not because of the damage they can cause to things and places, but because of what they can do to people.  They remind me to hold my loved ones close and not let any little grievance get in the way of how much they mean to me.  They remind me that things are replaceable and unimportant in the long run… it’s what can’t be replaced that really matters. 

They remind me that life is fragile – no matter what part of the world we live in.

“When you are in the final days of your life, what will you want?  Will you hug that college degree in the walnut frame? Will you ask to be carried to the garage so you can sit in your car? Will you find comfort in rereading your financial statement? Of course not. What will matter then will be people. If relationships will matter most then, shouldn’t they matter most now?"

-Max Lucado

Thankful Thursday

In all things give thanks....

Today I am thankful for my little fellas.  They keep me busy, drive me crazy and generally make my life perfect and fantastic.  They are the lights of my life!  They are also growing up at an alarming rate, and it seems the old blog code names I'd given them (Little Guy and Baby Boy) are seriously outdated.

Therefore, some change is in order.  Introducing.....

Tom (formerly "Little Guy")

and Huck (formerly "Baby Boy")

not sure why this posted side ways.... just turn your computer.  :)

Dishes!

My house is always full of boy noise.  From early in the morning till late at night there is the constant hum of trains and honking horns and 'vroom vroom'... not to mention belches and songs about bugs.  Now that Baby Boy is mobile, and learning that he also has a voice - the noises include his happy squeals and irate growls (depending on who has the toy he wants). 

Sometimes, I need just a few moments of quiet. 

Today I carved out some "Me" time in the form of dishwashing the old-fashioned way.  We usually rely on the dishwasher to do our dirty work (pun intended), but recently we found that our model was on a large recall.  Since the issue that initiated the recall is FIRE related (and we're not big fans of fire); we've determined that the dishwasher is off limits until we can schedule the repair.

So, this afternoon I filled the sinks with hot water: one side soapy, one side for rinsing.  I pulled on my blue rubber kitchen gloves.  I cranked Pandora (my favorite Jimmy Durante station fit my mood perfectly) and then I started.  I adore the feeling of accomplishment that comes with something so basic as cleaning, and there are few types of house cleaning which so quickly show results.

Dirty mug goes in the soapy water... comes out sparkly clean.  Rinse.  Repeat.  Bliss.

With each plate and fork and sippy cup, the boy noise started to fade into the background a little.  It was replaced by a calm that I rarely feel these days.  The moments were few, but they served as a re-charge of sorts.  It was exactly what I needed.

Before long, the dishes were done, my gloves were laid out to dry and I was wiping down counters when my husband walked in and said, "Wow. It's 1950 in here."  Right behind him came a blur of little boy activity and excitment. 

With my "me time" effectively over and normalcy now restored - I turned off Jimmy Durante and embraced the noisy fellows that make my life so very amazing (even if I do need a break now and then).

Look Who's FOUR!

Happy Birthday to our Little Guy - the very first person to ever call me Mama!  I just adore this kiddo.  He's funny and smart and makes me laugh more than I ever thought would be possible.

He's four today - and he's sure that this means he's now able to stay up late at night and maybe 'get a job'.  I'm not ready for him to join the workforce just yet, but we might be able to negotiate on bedtime.

Today was fun - filled with all the wonderful little things that make a young boy happy.  And any time this particular young boy is happy... Mom and Dad are happy too!

Happy Birthday to our sweet Little Guy!!  We love you so much!!!  Hoping all your wishes come true.  :)

Birthday Critter #1

I'm making two little stuffed characters for Baby Boy's 1st birthday (coming next month), and decided I'd better make at least one for Little Guy as well (his 4th birthday is also next month).  The photos below show what I came up with. 

This funny little monster doesn't have a name (yet), but I'm hoping he'll be well received.

I'll post pics when I get the next two stuffed critters done.  Those are taking a little more time as I'm using a pattern.  The monster was so simple, I just threw him together using some bits of fabric from my stash.

My Baby Ate Peanut Butter

Our peanut butter loving Baby Boy

It was one of those mornings when nothing is really going right, and I can tell that we'll probably be running late.

Little Guy had asked for an apple and some peanut butter/cracker "sandwitches" for breakfast.  I know this may not sound like the best breakfast ever, but considering how very picky our three year old is... this is about as good as it gets.  He finished maybe half of the food on his plate before wandering away to play with his trains.

I followed him to the train table and we had a lively discussion about how much he should be eating (I said "more".  He said "no more").  When I finally convinced him to go back to his breakfast, we both stopped short.  The baby was standing there, leaning shakily against the little picnic table where Little Guy always has his breakfast.  Baby eyes were sparkling.  One chubby hand was firmly attached to the table's edge.  The other was cramming the last of a peanut butter cracker into already bulging cheeks.  He was grinnning around that mouthful of cracker, like the proverbial kid with a hand in the cookie jar.

If you've read ANY baby book, you know that babies are not supposed to eat peanut butter.  My Baby has not yet learned to read, so he didn't know this.  Actually I'm pretty sure he would have skipped that chapter if he could read.  Though he only had that one taste, he was clearly a fan of the brown goopy stuff right off the bat.

I ran right to him the moment I realized what he was eating, but it was too late.  I settled for watching him closely for the next couple of hours.  I saw no allergic reactions of any kind, so it ended up allright in the end. 

He won't be getting any more samples of peanut butter until he's old enough (at least not on purpose).  No matter.  I'll never forget the look of sheer joy on my baby's chubby face as he tasted something forbidden for the very first time.

"X" Marks the Spot

Little Guy currently loves pirates. He has a little pirate hat, and routinely walks around the house shouting things like, “Argh!” and “Ahoy Mateys!”



We found the hat at Target for $2

Because he loves pirates so much right now, and because he’s been a pretty good boy lately, I surprised him early this week with a fun (and very inexpensive) activity. 

When he got home from school he went into his room to change into play clothes.  He noticed right away that his pirate hat was sitting on his bed.  Under it was a little treasure map that I had made earlier in the day. 

He knew what it was instantly and excitedly started to study it.  He quickly headed down the hall and through the living room.  His Dad stopped him and asked where he was going?  Little Guy showed him the map and said, “See. There’s the couch, so we’re right here.” After showing his Dad where he was on the map (and he was exactly right), he kept on going - stopping only long enough to put on sandals.  Hee continued on through the house (following the map) until we got outside and to his sandbox.  He lifted the lid and there was a paper “X” laying on top of the sand.  He dug under it with his little shovel until he came up with a small plastic container which we had filled with pennies. 

Little Guy studying his map

"X" marks the spot

He loved finding his“treasure”, and was very excited to add the pennies to the baby-bottle bank that he’d gotten at church.  We’re supposed to fill it up and take it back in a few weeks.  The money goes to help unwed mothers and their babies.  I loved watching him have so much fun, and was very excited that his first thought was charity and not buying candy or some other frivolous thing. 

He’s far from perfect (who is?) but he’s a pretty wonderful little pirate if I do say so myself.

Not So Wordless Wednesday

Image Credit

Happy Mother's Day

Here in the United States, today we celebrate the mothers in our lives.  I am very lucky indeed to have been blessed with many (both in my own family and in my husband's).  Each of these ladies are special and loved in their own way.  Today my best wishes go out to each of them!  Thank you for being there for me.  You all deserve a lovely day.

Today I will enjoy quality time with the ones who call ME "Mommy", and I will get to spend some quality time with my own Mom next weekend.  I'm very excited about that.  It is always wonderful when I get a chance to be with her.

Happy Mother's Day to you!  Even if you may not be a mother yourself, your life has undoubtedly been shaped by one. 

Cupcakes!!

Recently I entered to win a give-away over at notquitedonnareed, and (woo hoo) I won!!

What did I win?  I'm so glad you asked.  My prize was a fabulous birthday cupcake kit and awesome new cupcake pan.  I got it all in the mail this morning.  As soon as Little Guy saw what came out of the package, he said "We must make cupcakes, because they make me happy!"

He gets that from his Mama.  Cupcakes have always made me happy too!

We decided (even though we didn't have a birthday to bake for) that we'd get started right after lunch.  We had a really fun time mixing, baking and (of course) sampling these yummy treats!!

Little Guy checking out the cute little cupcake paper cups.

And he did almost all of the pouring of ingredients
and mixing (and did a great job!)

cups ready for the batter!!

After 25 minutes we had 12 yummy cupcakes!
The kit came with frosting and sprinkles. 
Little Guy approves! (so do I!)

The box said that the kit made 12 cupcakes (which it did)
but we had enough batter left over to also make one little bonus
cake using a tiny cake pan that Little Guy's Nana got him for Christmas.
How cute!!

We put the remaining cupcakes in a carrier, loaded the boys in their
trusty red wagon and delivered cupcakes to some of our neighbor ladies
(including the sweet lady from my last post)
Everyone loved their surprise delivery, and the boys and I had a great time too!

I'd like to send out a big thank you to notquitedonnareed for hosting such a fun give-away (if you haven't been to her blog yet, you should go there right now!) and for the fantastic prize package.  We had a blast making these cupcakes.  The only part of the prize that we didn't use was the pack of birthday candles.  We've saved them though, and will certianly put them to use soon! 

Wordless Wednesday

feverish

Sick Kiddo

Baby Boy is under the weather.  Poor little Sweetie has a fever and just wants to snuggle and sleep.  We could tell something was wrong when he decided on Sunday to nestle down in Daddy’s arms instead of crawling madly behind his big brother (Baby Boy’s favorite pastime of late).

By Monday morning he was running a fever of 102.  Other than the clingy/cuddly way he’s been acting, the fever is the only symptom he’s shown.  We considered it might be teething, but it felt like more and today we found out that a couple other kids at his daycare are out with fevers as well, so evidently he’s caught a little bug.

Unlike some other bugs – those accompanied by the eruption of various bodily fluids or painful coughing – this one has been easy.  Yesterday I took the day off to be with him (Hubby had the honors today).  Baby Boy just wanted to lay on my chest, his face nuzzling my neck.  That was all.  So I spent my “bonus home day” reclining on the sofa, cuddling my warm little baby boy while lazily perusing Pinterest on my laptop, and watching chick flicks (via NetFlix). 

I never ever want my kids to be sick, but yesterday was a pretty nice day.  Baby Boy is usually crawling now, and pulling himself up whenever/wherever he can.  It is rare indeed for that little fellow to willingly sit still, so I had quite the cuddle blessing.

I read today that little Avery Canahuati passed away over the weekend.  Whenever I read some heart wrenching story like that (and hers is certainly a story worth reading), it just makes me want to cuddle my boys even more.  It also reminds me to be thankful for every single moment I have with my little ones – and all the rest of my family as well. 

Life is fleeting, folks.  Get all the cuddles that you can.

Lots and Lots of Trains...

I love being Mommy to my boys.  They are funny and sweet and reckless and silly and curious.  They never cease to amaze me with their differing personalities (the wee one is only nine months old, but already has the will of an ox)...

And boys love their toys.  There are no dainty tea cups or baby dolls here.  Instead we have wall to wall trucks and trains and building blocks and baseballs and plastic dinosaurs and picture books about monsters and pirates.  Little Guy (our three year old) is especially enamored of trains.  He eats, sleeps and breathes trains.  We (of course) have a Thomas collection, and he has GeoTrax and other little miscellaneous train sets.  He plays with them all.  Even Baby Boy likes trains.  Now that he's mobile, he can't help himself.  If we put him down for even a minute, he crawls right over to the Thomas table and tries to pull himself up.  He's not quite able to get all the way up yet, and that's probably a good thing.  Little Guy isn't quite ready to share his beloved trains.
                                                                                                                         
Toy trains aren't the only ones around here.  Something else that our Little Guy is obsessed with are train videos.  I'm not referring to Thomas the Train (though he loves those), but I mean videos that are nothing but action footage of actual freight trains.  You might have seen the infomercials...

                                                                                                                        
Whoever thought of this concept is GENIUS!  They are probably rolling in the big bucks too, because I can't imagine ours is the only little boy who loves watching.  These are Little Guy's go-to nap time video and also what he gets to watch for a little bit before bedtime or really any time at all.  There's very little (if any) dialogue in these.  There's just clip after clip of trains (on mountains, on bridges, through the snow, in the rain etc) set to low-key music.  Oh, and when we bought the two DVD set (Lots and Lots of Trains) it came with a bonus CD soundtrack.  Guess what we listen to every morning in the car on the way to school?  Yes, that's right.
                                                                                                                           

We don't own this one, but it (and the other one below)
are regular favorites from our local library.

I get tired of Bob the Builder and Thomas the Train and Backyardigans.  So far, I haven't gotten tired of these.  They kind of grow on you after a while... especially if you get to watch them just about every day. 

I love my boys, and their silly train videos too! 

Wordless Wednesday

Find the original on Pinterest HERE

Kicking and Screaming

A toddler at bedtime can be the most incredibly persistant, annoying, clever and imaginitive little creature you ever could meet.  I adore my boys, but sometimes I just hate bedtime.  It pushes me to my limit each and every evening.  Our tiny one goes down easy and sweet like the little lamb that he is (for now anyway).  The big one is a different story.  He's three and a half - going on fifteen, and insists that he should be able to "stay up late like the growing-ups".

I say, "No."  Then I make sure he brushes his teeth and goes potty before reading him at least three, but not more than five bed time stories. This is followed by his bedtime prayers and a lullaby. Then I remind him (for what might be the hundredth time this week) that he needs to stay in bed until its time to get up.  He knows when that is because he has an alarm clock which looks like a stop light.  We have it set to go "green" at 5am*, and he is not to get out of bed before then.

When I leave his room that first time each night, the chances are 50/50 that he'll stay put.

Tonight I knew instantly that it wasn't going to go my way. 

First, he was thirsty - so I got him a drink (and tucked him in).  Then he needed to pee (of course).  He went potty and then I tucked him back in.  Soon he needed a new goodnight kiss because the old one had worn off,  I gave him the requested kiss and tucked him back in his bed, then he needed to poop - which he did, before being tucked back in.  Finally he needed to come out and tell me he was very bored and couldn't possibly go to sleep.

So, I got out the baby gate and put it in his doorway.

He promptly took it down and put it away where it goes in the closet.  I let this pass, and I'll confess it was partly because this made me laugh and I didn't want him to know... but then he came out and said he needed another drink.

And I lost it.  I took away his fire trucks and their assorted accessories as punishment.  He realized what was happening and came running down the hallway screaming like he'd been injured.  I said, "Get to bed this instant!" in my most authoritative voice.  He had a look on his face that told me he was deciding between defiance and tears.  Tears won.

That's about when Hubby took pity on me, and came up from where he'd been working in the basement to take our kiddo back to bed.  They are still back there, but everything is quiet, so I'm guessing he's having some success. 

Is it just me?  Or do all parents deal with this?  What methods/tricks did you use to make the process less stressful? 

*5am - I know what you're thinking... 5am does seem really early.  It IS really early.  It's not that we want him to get up then.  It's that we don't want him up BEFORE 5am.  Ever since he was an infant, he hasn't liked to sleep and if he had his way he wouldn't.  But that's another story for another day...

Spring Fever

Saturday night was frightful around here.  The wind howled.  The rain poured.  Lightning splintered the sky.  Thunder crashed.  You get the idea.

But then yesterday, the world woke renewed.  The sky was lovely and the breeze was soft and cool.  The sun shone between the clouds.  Everything was green.  It was a perfect day.

Little Guy was busy playing with trains and Baby Boy and I were watching the birds in our side yard through an open window.  When the air was still, Baby Boy sat at attention, his expression one of complete concentration.  He was one serious baby boy!

But then… the breeze would come through without notice, wafting through his wispy hair and cooling his rosy cheeks.  And just like that, he was transformed.  Gone was the stillness and the seriousness and the concentration.  In its place was sheer joy.  His squeal and grin were contagious.  His eyes danced.  His chubby little hands and feet swung and kicked with glee.  This was his first experience with Spring Fever, and he didn’t hold back.  He gurgled and laughed.  He made funny faces and ‘sang’..

Until the breeze was gone, and then he was still once again, waiting for the next thrill of Spring to visit through the open window.

9 Months

Our sweet little Baby Boy is NINE months old!  Wow.  The time sure has flown.  He makes our hearts melt, and we are reminded daily of just how lucky we are to have not just one - but two healthy, happy, fantastic little boys.
The past nine months in review....

In the beginning... a brand new Baby Boy

at 3 months

at 6 monts

Baby Boy - Now

I Don’t Know Where He Gets It From

After work last Thursday, I came home to a pint-sized welcome committee.  Little Guy had been waiting for me and had a lot to tell me about his day at school.  He had studied the sounds that the letters “S” and “H” make when put together.  He had examples: Ship, Shamrock, and Shirt.  He and his friends had eaten apples for a snack and his friend Reggie* had been taken to the hospital via ambulance.

“WHAT?” I ask in shock.  “What happened?”

“He jumped on a Lego and cut his foot real bad," he frowns sadly.

“Oh no,” I respond, giving my sweetie a big hug.

“The ambulance took him to the hospital to make him better,” he says in a somber tone.

I'm worried about this little boy, but also very glad it wasn't my child who was hurt, and then suddenly it dawns on me that this may be just a big story.  I do have a creative child after all, and maybe he’s making this up.  I yell into the other room where I can hear Hubby playing with Baby Boy, “Did the teacher say anything about an ambulance coming today?”

“Nope,” is his yelled response.  Hmmm.  I am looking at my little boy, and he is all innocence and rosy cheeks and sincerity as he gives me more details.  I think the teacher might have mentioned something like this, but then her day might have been so crazy that she forgot.

“Are you using your imagination?” I ask, squatting down at his level and looking him in the eye.

“No,” he says simply.

“Why didn’t your teacher take him to the hospital herself?”

“Because she couldn’t leave us all alone!” he’s shocked that I’d even suggest it.  “We’re too little!”

This is actually quite reasonable.  Little Guy goes to an in-home daycare/pre-school, and he’s right.  The teacher wouldn’t be able to leave the other kids alone.  Besides, I don’t know how one woman could take seven little boys to the emergency room without going stark raving mad.  I’d call for an ambulance too.  I begin to wonder if maybe he’s telling the truth after all.  The pieces add up – at least mostly.  I decide to ask him some more questions and see if I can catch him in a fib.

“How many emergency people came in the ambulance?”

“Two.”  There is no hesitation.  He doesn’t even blink.

“Were they men or women?” I ask.

“Both,” is his quick reply.  “There was one man and one woman.  They took Reggie in the back of their ambulance to make him better.”

“Did Roddie* go too?”  Roddie is Reggie’s little brother and usually the two would come and go together.

Little Guy looks at me strangely and shakes his head.  “Of course not,” he says.  “Roddie didn’t get hurt.  Only Reggie did.”

I ponder his answers.  It all seems logical to me.  If Reggie truly had been hurt badly enough to go to the hospital, this is probably how it would have went.  Is my three year old clever enough to make this up?  I am honestly not sure.

“Was Reggie’s foot bleeding a lot?”

“Oh yes it was!” he says, scrunching up his little nose in distaste.  “Teacher said he wasn’t being very careful, but that we’d better be careful so we don’t get our feet cut up like Reggie did.”

This sounds like something a teacher would warn kids about.  I’m almost convinced.

“Did Reggie come back to school at all?” 

“Nope.”  His Dad came to pick up Roddie, but Reggie was still at the hospital.” 

Not once during this discussion has he changed his story or waffled on any details.  He relays it all to me as if he’s telling me about any other part of his day, and I realize he is telling the truth.  I am so proud of him.  What a wonderful little boy.  He witnessed something that some children might find traumatic (seeing a friend carted away in an ambulance), and he’s handling it wonderfully. 

I drop the subject as there are still fifty other things he needs to tell me about his day.  We continue on with a wonderful evening and I forget about the whole thing.

Friday morning comes and as I pull into the driveway at Little Guy’s school, a small boy goes running past our car toward the door.  I recognize the small running boy, “Hey look, It’s Reggie.”  I say.  There is no response from the back seat, and then it hits me.  This boy was just yesterday being taken to the hospital because his foot was hurt very badly, but here he is this morning running as if nothing happened. 

Quite the recovery, I think to myself.

I’m helping him out of his car seat when I say, “I thought you said Reggie hurt his foot?”

He grins at me then – all teeth and eye sparkles and personality.  “Maybe I used my imagination a little bit,” he says holding up two fingers as if measuring an inch in the air. 

I’d been had!  He was so cute though, that I decided I'd wait till after school to have a little talk about telling stories vs. telling stories and pretending they are true.  I gave my clever little fella a big hug and we said goodbye before I continued on to work. 

Later, I called my parents to tell them all about what had happened, and strangely they said it reminded them of someone they once knew.  For the life of me, I can’t remember who they said it was that this story reminded them of… but in my defense – while we were talking on the phone, I stepped on a Lego and cut my foot.  By the time the ambulance had arrived, that whole phone conversation had completely slipped my mind….

*Not his real name

Winter Fun

Little Guy has been a good sport all Winter long.  We've not had very many opportunities to play in the snow (though it is one of his favorite pasttimes).  It seemed that either we had no snow, or it was too bitter cold when snow was available.  On Saturday, we had a perfect snow-play day.  The temp was cold, but not awful and there was enough snow left to make a three year old happy. We bundled up and had a wonderful time enjoying some Winter play.

The bad news?  Last night he woke up with a sneezy, snotty head cold (the first of the season).  Oh well.  I'm pretty sure he'd say it was worth it.