Disney: It’s Happening

The pitiful paid time off that I was given during my various jobs as a nurse never left much wiggle room for vacations. We were very luckily able to make a Parents-Only-Romantic-Vacation happen not just once, but twice, during the last few years thanks to going at really random times, saving up a year’s worth of paid time off, and, most importantly, amazing, phenomenal, grandparents who were willing to watch Alex while we sat on beaches. Other than that, it was a rarity for me to even manage a few days off around the holidays.

Each and every time I got sick, which sadly was pretty often, meant that I had to use paid time off. Every day I spent at home nursing a fever, my own or Alex’s, meant a day that I couldn’t take a vacation. Every time I needed to go to an appointment, deal with a household situation, fix my car…

(And I shouldn’t even complain. I had a paying job. I had paid time off. It was just…not well done where I worked.)

Now that we only have to worry about Zach’s time off, and getting Alex out of school, it became pretty obvious that we had to do something special. Something pretty amazing. Something that the whole family would love.

Disney World. It’s happening.

Disney 2015

We leave next month for four nights in Disney, after which we will spend three nights with my wonderful grandparents who live a few hours away. Being able to combine two trips that we have been meaning to take for a long time is pretty awesome. Disney World will surely be intense, and then being able to spend a few nights recovering by a pool, leisurely reading, walking around, and generally relaxing with family? Pretty amazing.

Disney 2015

Needless to say, we are pretty stoked. I’ve never been to Disney World, and Zach hasn’t been since he was a child. Alex has obviously never been, and, if you ask him, he’s “the only kid EVER” that hasn’t taken a trip to Disney World.

It’s going to be awesome.

Disney 2015

(Disney World lovers, people who have been only once, and people who have any level of opinion on these things: What are the Musts? Must See? Must Do? Must Eat? Must Watch? Must Skip?)

Some Days, Part 3

My little Valentine getting ready for bed. (Feb 14 part 3)

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Can't beat this view. (Feb 15)

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Another day of no school due to cold temps, so we recreated a picture from seven years ago. (Feb 20)

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Date night is happening. Dropping Alex off. EF you, winter. (Feb 21)

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My cuddly dudes. Love coming home from tap class to them! (Feb 25)

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FINALLY. (Mar 1)

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Breakfast with a ninja on snow day number 3. (Mar 5)

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Red dress for (double) date night! (Mar 7 part 2)

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Gaining Big Kid Status

Alex held on to his baby teeth for as long as he could. We even have adorable first grade pictures with all of his baby teeth still in a row. His little smile remained little for almost as long as I would have liked. (I mean, I could have used a few more years of Little Alex, let’s be honest.)

But now? Now they’re leaving. Each one falls out and his smile changes again. The big teeth are coming in and suddenly wham! there is a Big Kid looking back at me.

Playing

The second top tooth is hanging on for dear life. It must know that I’m not yet ready for him to a Big Kid. I like my Little Kid just fine, thank you.

But it’s not going to last. In fact, if he comes home from school without it today I won’t be surprised. If he comes home from school today knowing ten new words, multiplication, and spouting Nietzsche, I won’t be surprised. It’s all happening so fast.

February 2015

Some Days, Part 2

Playing cards with the small person. (Jan 19 part 2)

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Pippin date night! (Jan 22 part 2)

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Drive back home from upstate NY. (Jan 25)

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Hair looks awesome even after being in a bun all night. Love my hairdresser. (Jan 30 part 2)

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Another one bites the dust (bottom left). (Jan 31)

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"BOOM, mom. Mind? Blown." (Feb 3 part 2)

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Looking lovely today, beautiful city. (Feb 5 part 2)

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Walking to the coffee shop! (Feb 7 part 2)

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Good night, little love. (Feb 10 part 2)

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Dressed up for the Valentine's Day party. (Feb 13)

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Not What I Wanted To Pass Down

Alex is a mini Zach. He looks so much like him. They have similar attitudes and personalities. Their interests are aligned. They are just two peas in a pod, and it’s wonderful.

I love to watch them together. They are so meant to be an amazing duo and it’s evident in nearly every interaction they have. Between the wrestling, Lego building, and comic book reading, they are just the best.

But! Alex is my kid, too. He isn’t only a mini Zach. He’s a mini Me, too, although it’s not always quite so obvious. We actually do look pretty similar as kids. He is very sensitive to the material his clothes are made of, something that surely drove my mom nuts when I was a kid, and is something I still, to this day, deal with. (Wool? ACK. MAKE IT GO AWAY.) He’s not particularly coordinated, so, sorry, Kiddo.

It turns out that he got one other thing from me. A tendency for cavities.

Alex has a cavity. It’s between two of his teeth, so I couldn’t see it. The dentist seemed really surprised, given that he never has had any issues and his teeth are “spotless!”…except for the cavity, clearly.

Needless to say, I was heartbroken. I felt like I had failed my child. “You had one job!” kept ringing through my head in an admittedly jokey way. Alex has a cavity and it’s my fault. I’m the one who is supposed to keep him healthy. I’m the one who is supposed to protect him.

I know it’s not my fault. I know that there is likely little to nothing we could have done to prevent it. And if we had prevented it, it probably would have happened eventually. We use a Sonicare, floss daily. He eats very few sweets, nothing gummy on a regular basis. He’s tasted soda maybe four times now in his life. Juice is a very special treat, and usually just when we are out. We do everything right. But it seems he may be like me and just, well, prone to cavities.

Fortunately, he’s not upset about this at all. “It’s a little bit of a bummer,” he told me after the dentist appointment last weekend. “But it’s okay. We’ll be even better!”

He’s not even nervous about them fixing it tomorrow. (I am.)

February 2015

He Still Fits, But Barely

“Stop being a jerk,” I told Alex as I stood up from our position on the couch, side by side, and walked away. He was refusing to listen. He kept sighing, loudly, and squirming, purposefully stalling, during his reading homework. He wouldn’t even look at the words to read them, and instead just blurted out whatever word he felt like. He was being rude, an ongoing issue, and not doing what I told him to do the first time. He had ignored multiple requests that afternoon. He yelled at me. Twice.

Within a few minutes, he was on the other side of our long couch, curled up in a ball, under a blanket, very upset. He wasn’t crying, but he wasn’t doing anything at all other than sitting there with a frown on his face.

I wiped the counter in the kitchen. I caught up on social media for a few minutes. I felt bad.

“I’m sorry I got upset with you, buddy,” I said as I walked back in to the room where Alex was staring blankly ahead.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice sounding so small, so young, as I sat down next to him.

“I shouldn’t have called you a jerk. That wasn’t very nice of me, and I’m sorry that I hurt your feelings.”

He moved in closer to me, then stood up enough to sit on my lap.

Bringing his knees closer to his chest, his entire body taking up the length of mine, he tucked the blanket around us. “It’s okay,” he repeated. We talked about his behavior, why I got mad, what I should have done differently, and what he really, really, needs to work on (hint: it’s listening and doing what we say the first time, and being patient with himself and others when doing chores/homework/tasks).

I won’t have many more days to have him curled up in a ball on my lap. He’s so big, so grown up, so independent. He won’t want to cuddle with me forever.

It wasn’t a proud parenting moment. It was an exhausted, frustrated with behavior, unable to deal with the not listening, blurting-out-words parenting moment. It isn’t the first time I’ve said something mean to him, lost my temper and scolded him or yelled, and it won’t be the last.

We cuddled for less than a minute before he was up again, back to whatever activity he was doing before I interrupted him to do his reading assignment.

I don’t think he will remember this. I don’t think he will remember how he could fit so well on my lap for so many years, and then, suddenly, not. But I will. When the day comes when he no longer sits on my lap, I will grieve.

Calling him a jerk was not good. But the moment of calm and quiet, cuddled in the corner of the couch with a blanket tucked around me by my awesome kid? That was good.

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