Just hangin' out on the floor

This is what C calls "bwother wuv." He loves to snuggle with T on the floor.

This video cracks me up (sorry it's so dim). Anyone who's ever parented a toddler can understand.

Hippo birdie two ewe

We celebrated M's birthday tonight, two days late due to a bout with the stomach flu that hit our house on his actual birthday. What a bummer--the poor guy was pleading for mercy on the cold bathroom floor the night before his 32nd birthday. C had it, too, and I've never seen him request a nap before, or fall asleep on the couch, for that matter. Baby T and I remain untouched by the dreaded virus, protected in our own little mother-infant bubble.

So, tonight's party was a celebration of life and health. We had sushi (take-out, of course), and I did manage to make a cake for M. C had fun putting the candles on the cake and watching me light them. No sooner did we stop singing "Happy Birthday" did C claim the first piece of cake. No sir, my dear son...this is not about you. This is about your daddy, and he will get the first piece. It feels good to be able to say that to my self-absorbed two-year-old and wonder how much of that he gets. I'm sure God feels like that all the time with me: Does she really understand that it is not about her at all? Probably not. Maybe someday I'll get it...

Anyway, happy birthday to the amazing man who shares my home and life and children with me. I pray for lots more candles on our cakes together.

"Help, please!"

Whew! Has it really been two weeks since I last posted? Well, now that we have a new addition in our home, I can post more often. No, I'm not talking about our baby...we just got a new computer. You must understand, our former computer (a casualty of a particularly spasmodic electrical storm) was a 1999 Quantex, may she rest in peace. The company doesn't even exist anymore, but that baby was still going strong. I guess her time had come (sigh).

On to more interesting topics: Anne Lamott. I'm reading her book Operating Instructions in which she kept a daily journal of her son's first year (Thanks for the gift, Jim and Christine!). I'd never read Anne Lamott before, so I wasn't prepared for how edgy and vulnerable her writing is, but I really appreciate her openness about her need for community and support in raising her son. Even though I am not a single mom or a recovering alcoholic, I really resonate with her neediness, and I am learning from Anne to ask for help often. Application: I called my parents this week and asked them to pick up some groceries for us, since I am not yet up to the task of shopping with both boys in tow. I guess it's about time for me to practice what I preach: we're constantly coaching C to say "Help, please" instead of getting frustrated to the point of whining, throwing something or having a tantrum. Here's to a tantrum-free week for Mommy, too.