Mommy Cried, Too

Reagan had his well check today. Here are his stats:

weight: 33.4 pounds (up exactly 4 pounds from last year) 25th percentile
height: 39 inches (up 2 1/2 inches from last year) 25th percentile
BMI (?!?!) is 15.4

He had FIVE!!!!! immunizations, including one for the flu. As Megan's husband, Tim, says "Five is the same as one" when it comes to shots.

And he didn't like it one bit. I so hate vaccinations. What mother doesn't? I was face to face with him, and we were talking about what toy he was going to pick out at Kaleidoscope Toys when "Ow!! Mwahhhhhhhhhh!!!!" happened. That sneaky nurse! He said, "I want Mommy", but I was right there holding him. It broke my heart, and I teared up, too. I tried to keep it in, but I just couldn't stand it.

He's still walking stiffed legged saying his shots hurt. I'm about to dose him up with Motrin.

The positive part of the day was that I got to take 1/2 a day off and pick him up from his Mother's Day Out. I haven't even met his teacher, so this was a nice treat for me. And I loved seeing all of the moms that I have missed seeing this year. It was nice.

Howdy, Pardner!

We had a wonderful Halloween weekend.

A month or so ago, Reagan wanted to be a ghost. Some of you may be thinking "What an easy costume! Just get a sheet!!". Um, no. I can't even make a sheet costume. If I tried, it would look like Charlie Brown's ghost costume--which was covered in holes all over.

Then he wanted to be a fireman. Ok, I could do that!

Or Target could.

So we went to Target to get a fireman costume.

And a Wii Fit, but that is another post.

There were no firemen costumes, but Reagan stumbled across the most adorable (can I still use "adorable" for my 4 year old?) cowboy costume! He tried it on, then galloped through Target while we did the rest of the shopping!

David decided to take his costume into his own hands. I think he had a fear of this again. So we headed to Goodwill to make up his cowboy costume.

I was a cat, again. I was also behind the camera.

High Hopes

On the way to Petco on Saturday evening:

Reagan: What does a filter look like?

David: (said with excitement) What kind of filter??!!! A fuel filter?!?! An oil filter?!?! An air filter?!?!

[pause]

Kelly: Do you mean an aquarium filter?

Reagan: Yes, for the aquarium.

David: (in a depressed voice) I had butterflies in my stomach for a second....

Fabulous Fours

Our traditional first-thing-in-the-morning birthday picture. He was playing Hungry, Hungry Hippo as soon as he woke up.

My dear, sweet Reagan,

Today you are four. And what a big kid you have become! Although, you can still fit quite comfortably in your 2T shorts...


The "big kid" shows itself in all of the accomplishments that you have made this past year. Forgive me for airing out personal business here on the very public internet, but you have officially mastered pooping (and tinkling) on the potty! Mommy and Daddy are so proud of you. And at the same time we feel like such fools. We tried to rush you into this whole potty thing. First we thought you'd be ready in December of 2007. NOPE! Then we tried again in the spring. NOPE! Then we tried early this summer. The wet stuff came to you fairly quickly...like within a week. But the other stuff is a whole different story. That took a good 4 months to master. But you decided that you would start pooping on the potty in your own time. And you still get very defensive if we even suggest that you should try to poop on the potty. So we have stopped reminding you, and now you go when you feel the need. Good job, Kiddo!

Bath time with Timothy Turtle...his classroom pet from TPK (Mother's Day Out).

Your conversation skills have also exploded. I am constantly amazed at the conversations we have. I credit most of these skills to your new preschool, Rainbow Station. Just the other day we were talking about rhyming words (one of your favorite subjects lately), and I said that "hill" and "Jill" rhyme. Then you said, "Yes, and so does 'still', 'pill', and 'ill'." And I said, "Ill?", not believing what you said!! And you said, "Yes. 'Ill' is another word for 'sick', Mommy."

Some other conversations that I DO NOT like are you saying things like "What the heck?!"...and in correct context, too. That is not said in this house, and I'm extremely upset at the fact that you are learning not-so-great things. I just want to put you in a little bubble an shield you from all the yucky things of the world. But I know I can't do that. You need to be in the world and experience life and people. And Daddy and I just have to raise you the best we can hoping we equip you with good decision making skills so that you make good choices. God, help us.


You are a good boy, too. I see that when I peak in at Rainbow Station. You are always sitting where you are supposed to be sitting. You ALWAYS pick up and put away the toys that you are playing with before moving to a new center. (Um, can we do that same thing at home, too, Big Guy?) And you follow your teacher's directions the first time she tells you something. You are a dream student.


The problem comes when you're at home with us. You feel like it is ok to yell and whine at us. To put it mildly, we're sick of it. Please stop. We have said until we're blue in the face that whining does not get you what you want. Whining and yelling just gets you time out. And starting today you have to sit in time out for FOUR minutes instead of three. So let's just cut the ugly voices and bad attitude out, ok? That would just make home life so much more pleasant.

Reading an I Spy book and finding the hidden objects.

Your current loves are Legos (!!!!!), Transformers, I Spy books, and spelling words. I have no idea where your love of Transformers came from, but I don't mind you playing with the toys. However, you will not see the cartoon, much less the movie. Sorry! I love that you enjoy I Spy books...they are some of my favorites, too. And I'm very impressed with your spelling skills. Yesterday you looked at a sign in Rudy's and spelled it-- S-T-O-P. I asked you what that spells, and you said, "Stop". Terrific!


Your favorite color is still yellow. And now your bathroom is yellow. Very yellow.

Helping Daddy paint his bathroom yellow after Daddy finished putting the texture on the walls.

You had a (surprise) birthday party on Saturday at the 'jumping place', and you had a fabulous time. I'm so glad you enjoyed it, and I loved making it what you wanted. We sent out Spiderman invitations, had Transformer cake plates, and a Madagascar cake. It was perfect--for you!

Jumping with Uncle Mitchell at his birthday party.

Madagascar birthday cake!!!

Today was my favorite part, though. Although I didn't get to see you this morning for your birthday, I did call you and talk to you. And when I picked you up from school, we met Daddy at your favorite place--Gattiland. We had a great time playing games after a bit of pizza, and then we came home to open your gifts from us. You got two new Transformers and a big kid bike!! For the rest of the evening you rode circles through the house. I'm so amazed at how well you did the first time you got on it!

Daddy and I are so blessed to have you with us. You bring joy and silliness to our lives, and we love you for it.


I love you,
Mommy

Hello, My Name is Kelly

And this is my blog.

My poor neglected blog.

I have so much to write about that I can't think of anything to say.

But first of all, I have to thank Em. I checked the mail yesterday, and she sent me a working mom care package. Here, take a look at what I got!

As a brand new working mom, I feel the need to simplify my life. Becky doesn't know that I have this need, but she was so gracious to already have a pic of my care package! (Ok, that's Becky's care package.)

Emily, thank you so much for thinking of me. I'm really looking forward to my magazine subscription about working moms/women. I will certainly pay it forward.

On to "me" news. My BABY turns 4 next week, and his party is this weekend. He picked out Spiderman invites. Um, ok. How does he know about Spiderman? I don't know. But I went with it. While we were looking at Spiderman cakes the other day (because he DID get the Spiderman invites), he picked out a Madagascar cake.

Huh? A 2-themed party? Ok. Whatever floats your boat, Birthday Boy.

And he wants Transformers napkins. (No, we don't watch Transformers on tv. Stuff like this must be embedded in boy DNA.)

Ok, 3 themes. But I'm drawing the line there!

I mean, how often do you turn 4? Only once, right? So he can have whatever he wants. (Just don't laugh at him.)

WHOA!!

2008 (or two thousand eight if you're a 3rd grade teacher at this point during the year), SLOW DOWN! Slam on your brakes! You are going way too fast, and I need to stop this ride.

September is almost 1/2 way over. Which means that my very best girlfriend's son is almost one. ALMOST ONE! One.

And guess what happens right after that? My baby turns F-O-U-R. What? An official kid?! That can't be. Because every single year I have felt the same way..."He's not a baby anymore". Yet, every single year I think every single day, "He's my baby."

Ah, that feels better. Yes, he IS my baby. That is my mantra. "He's my baby. He's my baby. He's my baby."

Maybe that will keep the F-O-U-R's away.

(And what comes after Reagan's birthday?? CHRISTMAS!!!! Slow down, I tell you!!!)

Don't Get Too Close!

This is crazy. It is the SIXTH day of school, and I have a substitute there this morning.

Reagan and I developed a stomach bug. "Bug" sounds to cute for how I feel. Luckily Reagan woke up this morning feeling much better (and had a yogurt and sausage) so he is at my mother-in-law's house. All while I feel yucky, clammy, achy. Miserable.

On a happy note, we had a great long weekend. David and I double-dated on Saturday night after he completed the Nike Human Race. Yesterday was "Reagan Day" which involved a trip to Cabela's and McDonald's for lunch.

It doesn't take much to make him happy.

And to stay positive about my "itty bitty cute litty buggy-wuggy", at least I have one more day to prepare more for my lessons this week.

But first I'm going to maneuver myself to the couch and put myself in the fetal position.