Lil' Viking

When my son was born, my heart expanded to make room for him and I've never looked back.  He's grown into such a mischievous little boy but yet still so cuddly.

His vocabulary took off a several months back and over the last two months, he's become less of a parrot and more stating what he wants.

He's often told me "I ove you" in response to me saying it to him, but last night... that magical moment occurred where he looked at me and out of the blue said, "I ove you, mommy"

My heart grew yet again as I embraced my precocious two-year-old and told him the same.

Both kids laid on our bed last night watching Disney's "Spykids" until 7:30 pm rolled around.  I told them it was bedtime and took them to brush their teeth and then read a story.  As I sat on Bear's bed reading to them, Beloved came in and declared, "Happy Jonas Brothers Day!"  Kissed the kids and left the room (I can only hope this was sparked by watching Disney and not because he is a closet follower of their music).  Lil' munchkin began to glow and told me "Happy Jonas Brothers Day!"    I responded in same and she immediately asked me if I knew which one she liked.  Uh...No?  I didn't even know she knew who the heck they were!

I replied that I would love to know and she told me that it was the one in the middle with curly hair... and the good face.

Jonas-brothers

She told me if they come to town she wants to hug him.

I'm totally not ready for this.

When Beloved arrived home yesterday with both kids in tow, he told me that he had to sign an accident form for Bear.  Another child had bitten him on the hand.  Of course, the school won't tell you which child bit him, so I simply asked Bear if had been bitten today.  He held up his hand and told me, "bite my hand."  I then simply asked him who bit him.  "Wyatt bite my hand."  There you go.  I have the bad apple.  I told Beloved who had to restrain himself from showing Bear how to box.

I did (repeatedly) tell Bear to go to school today and tell the suspect, "No biting me, Wyatt!"

I just posted a couple weeks back about the lil' munchkin losing her first tooth, even though she's not even quite 4 and a half.  The permanent tooth had poked its head through the gums and is making sure that soon my little gap-toothed muchkin has a snaggle tooth smile with both big and small teeth splattered throughout her smile.

A few days after she lost her first tooth, I noticed that its neighbor was a bit wiggly as well and declared to Beloved that it would be gone before the end of the month.  Throughout the weekend, I know the lil' munchkin had to grow tired as I continually asked to see her gap only to inspect the neighbor and see how much it wiggled.  by Saturday, it could lay nearly all the way forward and I was convinced it was coming out. 

By Monday evening, she showed it to me and Beloved lovingly joked that we needed to pull it out.  That earned a finger wagging lecture from the lil' munchkin, "I said in the car that NO ONE is pulling my tooth out!"  We finished our dinner and I began to look for a dessert that she would have to bite into and remembered the brownies I had made the night before.  She happily accepted none the wiser to my ulterior motives and devoured it within minutes. 

As I cleaned up the kitchen, she headed upstairs to get pajamas on and I suddenly heard the pitter-patter of littl munchkin feet and the excitement radiating from her as she yelled, "Mommy, my tooth came out!"  She brought it down to me and I saw the newly vacated gumline. 

She then had to call both sets of grandparents and inform them, "I lost two toofs."

Can this child do anything slowly?

Lost teeth

1 comment

Bear will be two and a half on July 10th.  His diapers are not getting any better and I'm hopeful to have him potty trained before he turns three.  The lil' munchkin was a breeze to potty train and we managed it in a matter of a few days.  Bear has been a little more reluctant with the potty seat preferring to use it as a step stool than any other type of stool...

But as the little guy progresses in age each day, I become more eager to train him in the fine motor skills of the bathroom.

I've stocked up on M&Ms and am ready for him.

I asked him last night if he wanted an M&M as I showed them to him.  He said yes, he did want one so I told him he had to sit on the potty for it.  In we went with Big Sis tagging along for moral support.  He dutifully allowed me to remove his diaper and he sat down on the potty seat.  I plopped an M&M in his mouth and he munched happily.  As I crooned as to what a big boy he was, he stated, "MORE M&Ms."  I looked at him and matter-of-factly told him, "Put peepee in the potty and you can have another one."  A look of concentration stretched across his face and he looked down.  I thought he might be actually going, but wasn't quite sure.  Another moment passed and sure enough, I saw the glorious stream of urine (I know I know - using glorious and urine in the same sentence is a little weird, but parents understand).  I began gushing about how proud I was of him!  Sis reached down to give him a congratulatory kiss on the cheek and Daddy came in to join in the festivities. 

I allowed him to put on his beloved "rocket" underpants and run around in those for a while and he knew he had done something really good.

I know we have a while to go, but let's just say I'm convinced of the magic that M&Ms hold and I have stocked up.

After I recovered from the lil' munchkin losing her first baby tooth (at 4 years old!!!) I sat stunned again to realize that her second tooth - the next door neighbor - is loose as well.

Not only that, but as of last night, Her very first permanent tooth is peeking through those little gums of her.

She really is "growing a great big tooth"

What next, a driver's license?

December 27, 2004, the lil' munchkin decided to make her appearance into our world and changed mine and beloved's lives forever.  She always seemed to be on the early side of doing things and four months into life, she proved it once again by sprouting her first two teeth.  Two middle teeth on the bottom made our little bald girl even cuter.

Fast forward four years and one month later. 

Thursday evening, I sat at my desk in the family area as the kids played.  I was on the phone talking to my mom and the lil' munchkin comes running over to me, "Mommy, I really lost a tooth!"

I FREAKED out!  It's too early for that!  She had to have yanked on it, right?  The panic in my voice was evident as I tried to determine what to do, what dentist to take her to, who could put it back in my little girl's mouth, what to do, what to do, how did you do this!!

My Mom tried to calm me down from the other side of the telephone and tell me that it could happen this early.  I replied that there was NO way!  This doesn't happen until they are 6 or 7!

I asked the lil' munchkin what she had done, and she excitedly told me, "Nothing, Mommy. I promise!  I was chewing my granola bar and then there was something crunchy and then it fell out!"

I settled down a little and began searching the internet to see if it does happen this early.

Sure enough.

The first lost tooth typically ocurs around 6 or 7, but can happen as early as 4 - especially when the child was an early teether.

The lil' munchkin's excitement was contagious and I allowed her to stay up a little later to call and spread the news to her friends.

Upon the call to Daddy during his meeting, she shared the news with him, and I heard his response from where I sat, "What?  Let me talk to Mommy."  The panic I had felt was evident in his tone as well.

I calmed him and let him know what I had looked up and that yes, she had lost her tooth naturally and not due to some accident.

Next on the list was preparation for the Tooth Fairy. 

I borrowed the move that I grew up with and we placed the tooth in a glass of water in the kitchen - that makes it so much easier for the Tooth Fairy to get it versus being under the head of a sleeping child.

The next morning, my newly gap-toothed lil' munchkin rushed to see if the Tooth Fairy had come and immediately began counting her silver coins.  Then she ran down to show Daddy the gap.

I can look at the little tooth that was in my daughter's mouth only days ago and I'm still in shock.  Must this child of mine doing everything early?

IMG_1467

Bear's vocab has simply exploded in the last several months.  He is talking up a storm and parrots whatever anyone says.  He kept repeating, "look at me, mama" last night as he ran up and down the sidewalk.  He loves to tell me when something is all gone, icky, or broken.  He will repeat it until you acknowledge that whatever he is saying is true.

My beloved called me on the way to take him to school this morning though and told me that he had had a very active morning.  When he tugged Bear's arm to help him brush his teeth, Bear looked at him and said, "you broke my arm!"

Then as he ran down the hallway, he tripped and fell and looked up at my Beloved and said, "broke my leg!"

Wow.

Two broken limbs in one morning.  I think that may even top my broken kneecap!

The night after I fell and broke my kneecap, I was downstairs working at my desk and talking on the phone with a business associate.  Beloved was working in his office, and I could hear the merriment of the bug and the bear playing contentedly with one another upstairs. 

Then I heard crying.

I didn't immediately jump up as when you live in a house with a 2 year old and a 4 year old, there is often some sort of crying that typically doesn't require parental intervention.

Then I heard the lil' munchkin holler Mommy.

I continued with my phone call and then she hollered something that made me immediately end my phone call, jump up (well, as fast  as someone with a broken knee can "jump up"), and hobble up the stairs as fast as I could with one good knee.

"Mommy, there's blood!"

My heart raced when I made it up a flight and a half of stairs to see my Bear sitting on the landing with blood rushing down his face.  I scooped him, made it up the rest of the stairs and stumbled to the bathroom.  I set him on my lap and grabbed a washcloth.  I knew immediately by looking at the gash with a hole in the center that this would require a trip to the emergency room.

My beloved was on a deadline, so I told him I was fine to take him and my mom would meet me up there.

We loaded both kids in the car and I dragged the dreaded "straight leg" into the van. 

I made it to the ER and my Mom soon followed.  We waited for a while in the waiting room and then we were taken to an exam room where we waited longer.  Once the doctor came in to look at it, he informed us that they would be able to use dermabond (basically superglue) to seal the wound and we would not have to fight with stitches.  Another 30 minutes later and the wound was sealed as Bear continued to scream, "take it off."  Yet another 30 minutes, we were finally discharged and the four of us made it outside to head back to our homes.

By the next evening, Bear had most of the dermabond picked off and the wound was reopened.  Not much we could do for it at this point, but we gave it a valiant effort for him to not have a scar on his head.

I've had my share of emergency rooms for a while.

So April 25 was the last posting I did.  There's a really good reason for that.  I've been a little preoccupied with simply trying to get around with an ankle to thigh immobilizer on my left leg.

On April 27, I fell.  Directly on my left knee.  Directly on concrete.  I was immediately enveloped in severe pain and then spent the evening in the emergency room.  X-rays confirmed what my beloved had already diagnosed.  I had broken my kneecap.  All on my own.  No car wreck, no sports injury, no mafia wanting their money back.  I simply slipped and fell.  I don't even have a cool story to go along with it.

I was placed in a temporary immobilizer, drugged, and sent home on crutches with orders to see an orthopedic surgeon the next day.  At that appointment, he said that while the bone was broken, the joint wasn't affected.  I won't go into too many details, but will say that there were a couple of needles involved and I probably hurt a few eardrums.  He wanted me to come back in one week and as long as I didn't need surgery, they would put me in a jointed immobilizer.

I was sent home again with more drugs and orders to stay off of my leg. (see my next posting for what actually happened this night).

Fast forward to the following Monday and we had to back to see the Dr. again. He  had reviewed the x-rays again and believed that we could heal it without doing surgery.  I was sent to get the jointed immobilizer after being told that it would be locked in 'zero' for the next three weeks.  I broke down as I had hoped that I would have movement from this appointment. 

We obtained the new "massive" immobilizer that makes me look like a character from "Terminator" and headed home.  I was too worn out to do anything but take some pain medication and crash.

Here it is the 14th of May and I've been 2 1/2 weeks without bending my knee. and I still have 2 more weeks before they'll even consider letting me bend it even the slightest little bit.

And?  It pretty much sucks.

Promise me you'll try very hard to never, ever break a kneecap...