"Police Navidad"

Rory had his preschool Holiday Concert this past Wednesday night, and although we video taped it (like every other parent there!), the video didn't turn very well and you couldn't really hear Rory singing. And since I've had the distinct pleasure of listening to him practice over and over for the past couple of weeks, I didn't think it would be fair if you couldn't experience it as well. (I know, I know, I'm just TOO kind!) So, here he is, singing his little heart out (in Spanglish, no less!):

The Joy of Raising a Boy

A good friend of mine recently found out that she was pregnant with a boy and was more than a little stunned. A few of us decided to take action and try to put something together that might make her more excited about having a bouncing baby boy. At first I had a TERRIBLE case of writer's block - even though I've actually been in this very position before myself. I had been so sure that Rory was going to be a girl that I practically had to be picked up off the examining room floor when the doctor announced, "It has a penis!" However, once I finally figured out what to write about, I have to say that I'm kinda proud of the words that came out. And since this blog also acts as my version of a baby book for Rory, I thought I should include this letter so that someday he can read it, too:

When I was first told I was having a boy, I was in a state of shock. A BOY? What did I know about boys? My fantasies of tame little tea parties, picking out cute clothes, and playing with each others’ hair were dashed in an instant. A boy would be loud. A boy would be rambunctious. A boy was NOT part of my plan.

Fast forward to almost four years later, and I have to say that my original thoughts were not far off from the truth – I most definitely knew NOTHING about boys. I didn’t know that my son would have a huge, tender heart and that he would always be the first to run over to console his friends whenever they get upset or hurt. I didn’t know that he would love being “The Kiss Monster” and coming over to smother my face with wet little smooches and giggles. I didn’t know that he would jump at the chance to be my helper, and that he would get more enjoyment out of vacuuming and dusting than I certainly ever did. And I certainly did not know how much the words; “Mommy, you look beautiful!” would mean so much more to me when said by my little boy.

I also never realized that having a son around would be so darn handy! There is now always someone around to help me kill spiders and sweep away cobwebs (and he doesn’t make fun of me for being squeamish about bugs!). Hoby now has someone who actually ENJOYS accompanying him on those mundane male tasks that need to be done on Saturdays – like going to Home Depot or having the oil changed – so I am free to pass on these activities without feeling the least bit guilty. Having a son means there is always someone who wants to help you dig in the dirt, and who actually volunteers with enthusiasm to mow the lawn, blow the leaves off the porch, and use the weed whacker with gusto. And aside from just being handy – which is definitely an added bonus! – I’m also finding that watching Rory play gives me a glimpse of what Hoby must have been like as a child. I get the chance to learn more about the man I love just by having his son. An added perk that I never knew existed, but that I feel very blessed to have.

So while I may not be having tame little tea parties or getting to pick out cute, pink party dresses, I honestly can say that I don’t feel like I’m missing out on much. Every day with a son is a new adventure, and I look forward to being pleasantly surprised about what I “didn’t know” about the joys of raising a boy.

Quotes from the Kid

We're trying to get Rory ready for bed and my kid, King of Procrastination, pulls the ever popular "I need a drink of water" excuse. So Hoby gets him a drink, and Rory sits down at his little table in the kitchen. He grabs something to "read", settles himself down in his chair, takes the tiniest sip of water and then smacks his lips like he just tasted some well-aged congnac.

"This," he says very seriously, "could take a WHILE."

I'd say we have our hands full...

Summer Vacation 2008

Every summer, we round up my side of the family - my folks, our family of three, and sometimes, if we're lucky, my brother - and go on a trip together. This time around, we went on a seven day cruise to the Mexican Riviera and I'm happy to report that it was absolutely wonderful (WAAAAAY better than the first cruise we took as a family two years ago to Hawaii, thank goodness!).

It helped enormously that we didn't have to fly anywhere. Plane rides with Rory are never fun - I start to dread them WEEKS in advance - so knowing that we didn't have to get on a plane made getting ready for this trip seem almost too easy. I didn't even start packing until the day before we left, which for me, Queen of the Obsessive Compulsive Suitcase Packers, is nothing short of amazing. Then, we literally just hopped in our car, drove less than an hour to the Port of Long Beach, and walked right onto the ship. It doesn't get much easier than that!

Now, honestly, I'm not a huge fan of Mexico - it's not the cleanest place on the planet and I hate being accosted by people who are trying to sell me chicklets and various other crap that is "almost free for you, Senorita!" - but I managed to ignore that stuff for the most part and concentrate on having fun with the fam.

The cruise ship was huge and had plenty of things to keep us all busy, including a camp for kids that we were able to check Rory into for a few hours a day, which he absolutely loved (THANK GOD!!). This enabled the adults to have some ADULT fun, which included a bit of gambling in the casino, playing ping pong (my brother actually brought his OWN ping pong paddles! Sorry Jer, I just couldn't pass up mentioning that!) and having a few drinks with little umbrellas in them. Okay, maybe more than a few...I can't ever turn down a Malibu and Pineapple.

Usually after dinner, we would pick Rory up from the evening session of camp and take him to see the shows, which he LOVED, not that we were suprised. Singing, dancing, music, and lights - Rory was in absolute heaven! And most nights, while we were sitting in the balcony seats and waiting for the show to start, Rory would be so excited that he would start dancing like crazy. I mean, my kid can REALLY shake his booty when he wants to! I don't know where he gets his moves from - certainly not his father (sorry, honey!)- but there is no doubt that he has them! I wish I had a good video if it, but I was laughing too hard to hold the camera steady. People were watching him from all over the theater, pointing to him up in the balcony, but he was totally oblivious and just boogied down until he wore himself out or the show started. And for the rest of the cruise, people would come up to him and say, "Hey, you're that little dancing kid! Thanks for the pre-show!" Maybe I should have been embarassed, but honestly, I was so proud of my little entertainer.



We went to several different ports in Mexico - Cabo, Mazatlan and Puerta Vallarta - and in two of them, we found resorts that had awesome pools to play in. Our favorite was El Cid in Mazatlan - it had slides, rocks to climb up, small pools on top of a waterfall, and even a cliff to jump off of into the pool. I had been worried that Rory had inherited my fear of heights, but after seeing him do this, I guess I don't have to worry anymore:



Rory, of course, wanted me to jump, too. And since my THREE YEAR OLD was able to do it (not to mention some little bugger who was even younger than him!), it was either jump or look like a total chicken shit in front of my kid who already has some serious respect issues - so after a couple of drinks and a tiny push from my brother, I jumped, too:



Thank God there is photographic evidence because I don't think it's likely I'll be throwing myself off a cliff, even a small one, anytime soon. (Unless, of course, these three year old tantrums don't end soon, in which case I might consider it. Ha ha.)

I'm sure that pictures will show a lot more than I can describe, so here's a sampling of some of the better ones:


Playing checkers with beer bottle caps in the pool - SO classy!


Rory and his Uncle Jer (who obviously doesn't have kids by the "I'm pretending to like this but really I'm SO ready to give you your kid back" expression on his face!)


The view from the pool at the Krystal Resort in Puerta Vallarta that kinda makes me forget why I don't like Mexico


Rory getting pummelled by waves in Cabo at Lover's Beach


Rory's favorite pool at the top of the waterfall at El Cid Resort in Mazatlan


We griped about packing our fancy clothes, but I have to say we actually clean up pretty darn good! This year's picture for our Christmas cards, perhaps?


A very happy, healthy looking Poppi (taken by Rory!)

All in all, it was one amazing trip and we can't wait to see what next summer's adventure will be! Getting back to "reality" this week has been a hard adjustment for everyone, but whenever I start to feel stressed out, I just watch this, and everything gets better:



Thanks to Grandma Jo and Grandpa Al for an awesome vacation sponsored by everyone's favorite bank, NBD (National Bank of Dad).

We love you!

Making His Daddy Proud...

Rory has recently discovered his, ah, "equipment" shall we say (I guess the fascination starts at three and never ends, right guys?), but today he was being even more grabby than usual and I was getting a little exasperated. I finally asked him, "Rory, what is your deal? WHY do you have to keep grabbing your tutu?" And he looks at me with this very serious expression on his face and says, "I can't help it, Mama, it's just SOOOOO BIG!".

If Hoby had been there, I'm sure he would have been unbelievably proud.

The Monstrosity

For months, Rory had been getting up in the middle of the night and coming into bed with us. And while my darling husband rarely even noticed the middle of the night intrusions (once Hoby is out, he's O-U-T!), I would spend the rest of the night battling my boys for real estate on our queen sized bed. I would wake up in the morning, just barely still clinging to the edge of the mattress or curled up in fetal position at the foot of the bed, and needless to say, I would feel like I hadn't slept a wink. I was NOT a happy mama.

So in an effort to take my bed back, "we" decided it was time to get Rory out of his tiny toddler bed and into a bed of his very own. A bed that he could roll all over during the night and not fall out of. A bed that would entice him to stay in his own room ALL NIGHT LONG.

And so we are now the proud owners of this gigantic bunk bed (thanks to craigslist!) that takes up almost his entire room, which we have fondly started referring to as "The Monstrosity":



But you know what? It WORKED!!! And you are now looking at one happy, WELL RESTED mama...and it certainly doesn't hurt that the kid is pretty darn happy, too.

Newsletter 3.5

Dear Rory -
Well son, here I am, finally writing a newsletter that is waaaaay overdue. I know that I have skipped the last three or four months, but to be honest, it really feels as though we've ALL skipped the last few months. Seriously, where the heck does the time go? It seems like summer is just getting started, and yet, somehow it's already the first of August and I feel like I'm suffering from some sort of time-warp whip lash.

I don't even know where to start when it comes to you, Ro. Since spring, you have been growing like crazy, and I mean that both physically AND mentally. You're over 38 inches tall now (and yes, once again, NONE of your clothes fit!), almost a solid 40 pounds, and you're an unbelievably smart little dude. A little too smart, actually. You have an astounding vocabulary for a three year old, but the scary part is how you use it.

You have become the ultimate little negotiator and you've learned how to play your dad and I like an expert. For example, when you sense that I'm about to ask you to do something you don't want to do (ie. clean up your toys, brush your teeth, etc.), you look at me with those big beautiful eyes of yours and say as sweetly as possible, "Mommy, come here and snuggle with me. I want to give you big hugs!" And because you are still a TOTAL daddy's boy, and you rarely pay attention to me when your father is around, this makes me melt into a big pool of mommy jello. AND YOU KNOW IT, you little stinker. Or when you are doing something you're not supposed to do when your father isn't home (like try and grab knives out of the butcher block for example) and I tell you NO, you look at me very seriously and say, "Calm down Mom. Daddy let's me do this ALL the time."

Oh yes, you are a force to be reckoned with. There are times - plenty of them - when you've pushed my buttons beyond belief and it takes all of my will power not to put you in the first box I can find and FedEx you to Antartica. You are TRULY lucky, my friend, that you are so damn cute. But then there are times when you sit on my lap and laugh with me at Curious George over a shared bowl of Cheerios or when you jump into the pool and swim over to me with your chest puffed up with pride, and I think, how could I want anything other than this?

ALL OF IT.

Love,
Mama

Warning: This Post is About Poop

I am proud to announce that Rory has been wearing his big boy underpants now for five days in a row. FIVE FABULOUS DAYS! This is pretty amazing considering the fact that I was utterly convinced my son would NEVER be potty trained, and that I would be sending him off to college some day with a duffel bag full of diapers.

He's had the pee part of things down for quite some time now, but pooping was a whole different ball game. He outright REFUSED to poop in a toilet. He would tinkle in the toilet all day long without a hitch, but when it was time to do the big "P", he would come and beg for a diaper. And I mean BEG - crying, pleading, throwing himself on the floor like he was going to die - that kind of begging. And no amount of bribary would make him budge. Jelly beans, water balloons, lollipops, promises of toys galore - nothing worked. The furthest I could get with him on a regular basis was to have him sit on the pot IN HIS DIAPER and poop. How silly is that?

But finally, FINALLY, today, he pooped on the toilet ALL BY HIMSELF - and prepare yourself, because here is the picture to prove it:



Way to go, Ro!

A Look into the Future...

We took Rory to one of the summer concerts in the park a few weekends ago, and of course, he wanted to be as close to the stage as possible to soak it all in. He plastered himself to the fencing around the stage and kept saying, "Mom, I wish I could go up there!":



He was so obviously thrilled by being so close to the music that one of the musicians even noticed. He kept looking at Rory and smiling, and Ro of course was smiling his little head off. So, during the second set, the guy came over and asked if he could bring Rory up on stage. I didn't even have time to answer before Rory threw himself at the man without a moments hesitation and went up on stage in front of a couple thousand people! I've never seen him smile so big!



I imagine it won't be long before our little guy is up on stage playing music on his own...

Touché!

I haven't blogged in almost a month, mostly due to being busy with my now nap-less child, however last night something happened that was so worth blogging about that I just had to jump back on the bandwagon.

We were all playing on the floor and Hoby playfully asked Rory, "Hey, do you know what my name is?" And Rory looks at him with a big smile on his face and says, "Yup - it's WUSS!"

Heard that word from his daddy no doubt and then served it right back to him on a silver platter.

Needless to say, I LAUGHED MY BUTT OFF.

Introducing the Next Big Thing...

So I know I've been a bit behind with my newsletters, but perhaps this will tide you over...



Yup, my kids ROCKS.

Winning the Food Fight

My son is a finicky eater, especially when it comes to dinner. It's gotten to the point where I wonder why I even bother to try and put food in front of him when we sit down for dinner. Things he WILL eat: veggie corn dogs, lollipops, fruit popscicles - are we seeing a trend here? So I finally got the brilliant idea last night to shove some of the chicken we were eating on a stick - and lo and behold, the kid ate it! Not only did he gobble it up, he even asked for more.

I guess the trick is in the stick!

Newsletter 3.0 (Happy 3rd Birthday, Rory!)

Okay, so I’m a little late writing this (two weeks late, to be exact), but there was so much going on around the time of your birthday that, quite honestly, this is the first real chance I’ve had to catch my breath.

Inhale.
Exhale.
Ahhhh – that’s much better! Now let’s get down to business.

You, my friend, had what I will now always refer to as “The Endless Birthday.” It started on the Thursday before your actual birth date when you had a party at your preschool to celebrate your Hebrew birthday. Because apparently, since the Hebrew calendar is different than the standard calendar that we all use (because there is that little matter of B.C. and A.D. that understandably doesn’t figure into the Jewish way of thinking), your Hebrew birthday doesn’t always fall on the same day as what the rest of the world considers your birthday. So you, being the lucky little devil that you are, got TWO birthdays.

Your father and I went to your school to see you celebrate with all of your classmates and the Rabbi by wearing a birthday crown and eating a nice kosher birthday cake.



You loved the special attention and the fact that you got to lick honey off of a picture of the Hebrew alphabet to signify that learning Hebrew (which you officially get to start when you turn three) is a sweet privilege. And so the enormous intake of sugar began…



That night, your Grandma Judy and your Granny Dudley came into town and with them came loads of fun, and of course, more sugar. By the time your birthday party on Sunday began, I don’t think a single nutritious item had passed through your lips in almost 72 hours. But isn’t that part of what birthdays are all about?

Your OTHER party this year was at a place called Playsource, which is basically an indoor play place that has tons of stuff to keep little people like you busy. This year, we planned your party with your buddy, Paxton, who was not only born on the same day as you, he was also born at the very same hospital. It was a bit on the crazy side, because between the two of you, we were expecting 35 kids (12 from us, 23 from them), not to mention, all of their parents. THAT IS A LOT OF PEOPLE. I have to admit that I was a bit overwhelmed by the thought of it, and I was more than a little worried that you weren’t going to feel like it was your special day. But, as usual, I worried for nothing and you had a terrific time. The only thing that bothered you about sharing your party was that when everyone sang Happy Birthday, they sang, “Happy Birthday to Paxton and Rory! Happy Birthday to you!” and afterwards you said to me, “Mamma, I didn’t like the ‘Paxton and Rory’ song, I wanted them to say, ‘Just Rory’!” So, note to self, if we ever have a shared party again (which is highly unlikely!) make sure that we sing a separate birthday song for each kid. Sheesh!



As with any party, we ended up having a ton of food left over, especially cupcakes (Paxton’s mom and I made all 85 of them ourselves, by the way!). So for every night after your party that we still had cupcakes left, you made us put a candle in one for you and sing, “Happy Birthday to JUST RORY! Happy Birthday to YOU!”. This went on for at least four nights (hence the “Endless Birthday” theme), so I think that MORE than made up for the song transgression, don’t you?



I can’t talk about your birthday, of course, without mentioning some of your favorite presents. Your Nana and Poppi gave you a “big boy bicycle” with training wheels, and you were so excited that you immediately jumped on it and started pedaling your little heart out. We are so impressed by how fast you got the hang of it, and now I spend at least part of every day huffing and puffing as I chase you around the neighborhood. Good exercise for both of us! I get such a kick out of watching you (for those of you with kids, it kinda reminds me a bit of what Elmo looks like when he rides a bike on Sesame Street!), it’s so darn cute to see your little legs going round and round! And sometimes, my chest puffs up with so much pride that I can’t even breathe – but somehow I still manage to have a silly grin on my face anyway…





Your other favorite gifts are High School Musical related (are you surprised?), especially the new Wii game that your father and I bought you that lets you sing along to all of your favorite HSM songs karaoke style with your very own microphone. For you, it just doesn’t get any better than that! And even though we probably wouldn’t admit this in public, your father and I think it’s pretty cool, too. Where else is our vast knowledge of High School Musical songs going to come in handy? And now we will have an endless source of entertainment at our fingertips that looks a little something like this:



Happy Birthday, big guy!

Love,
Mama

A Golf Pro in the Making

Our entertainment for the evening:




Perhaps we should start saving for a set of golf clubs, although the back scratcher is kind of a nice throw back to my husband's Mariposa roots. Just kidding, honey!

Newsletter 2.11

Dear Rory -
Well, the invitations are out and it's official, in two weeks you are going to be turning three. THREE! I know that I will probably say this almost every time you have a birthday, but where did this year go? I've always heard that time really starts to fly when you have children, but no one told me that it moved at WARP SPEED.

I get dizzy just thinking about.



Although I have to admit that I'm not THAT sad that you are leaving your terrible twos behind (you ARE, right?) because they most definitely have not been all sunshine and roses! But perhaps all the fussiness is a result of the amazing changes that take place between ages two and three - there is no doubt that this year has seen you change from a little toddler to a BOY. It's darn impressive to think of how far you've come in the last twelve months - you think for yourself now, you have the words to tell us just about anything you want to (a skill you certainly practice ALL THE TIME!), and you're constantly telling us that that you want to do everything "all by myself!". You have become our little Mr. Independent.



Some of your quirks of the moment include:
- A sudden, intense dislike of freeways (where on Earth did that come from?) so much so that if we want any peace and quiet in the car, we have to find back roads to everywhere. So if we are late for something these days, you know why!
- Picking your nose and telling me that you are trying to get the "stuffies" out.
- Grabbing your guitar and singing a quick song about whatever activity you are about to do next. (For example, today it was, "I'm gonna take a nap now, a nap now, a nap now. I'm gonna take a nap now, in my bed today! Thank you, everyone! Goodnight!")



- Trying to imitate the dance moves from "High School Musical" because you already have ALL the words to the songs memorized.
- Finding a new favorite stuffed animal (or "buddy" as you call it) to hug for the week that ultimately ends up in your bed. To date, you have Monks, Lili, Baby Bear, Sunny and Dewey all sleeping with you (and I hate to tell you this, but your "big boy bed" really isn't THAT BIG.)
- Talking to your imaginary friends, Doe and Dee, on your phone
- And last but not least - telling us, "Not now, but soon!" everytime we ask you to do something, you little procrastinator!

It's been quite a year, Ro - not an easy one for me by any stretch of the imagination, but I forgive you for your part in that because, well, you can't help that you were a two year old. And you had that whole " terrible twos" image to live up to, right? (Super job with that, by the way!) And although I've heard that year three can sometimes be even harder (HARDER???), I can at least count on the fact that it's going to be interesting. Because with you, Ro, there is NEVER a dull moment.

And honestly, I don't think I'd want it any other way.

Love,
Mama

Panic Attack

We've been working hard at getting Rory to go to sleep in his big boy bed by himself, and I mistakenly thought we were finally getting things under control. Last night, Hoby put him to bed, and since he didn't take a nap, it wasn't a surprise when everything got quiet upstairs fairly quickly. Hoby and I actually had a few hours together and I was patting myself on the back for getting back into some semblence of a routine.

Two hours later, we head up to bed, and Hoby goes to check on our sleepy head while I go put on my pajamas. Two seconds later, I hear Hoby say rather loudly, "Stacy, WHERE IS RORY?!". And I think, kinda late for a joke, isn't it? Hoby appears at our bedroom door and says, "No, really - WHERE IS RORY? He's not in his room!" and I can see by the look on his face that he's TOTALLY NOT KIDDING. And suddenly, I can't breathe.

We start to look in all the other rooms upstairs - the bathroom (maybe he's in the bathtub sleeping?), the laundry room (did he climb into the dryer?), until finally, Hoby opens the door to his office (which is off limits to Rory) and there is he is - fast asleep on the couch. And once my lungs had a chance to re-inflate, and all of the horrible visions of missing children ads on milk cartons stopped blurring my vision, I smothered my Rory with kisses until we tucked him back into his bed, safe and sound.

Rory, don't ever scare your Mama like that again!

Passing on the Love of Target

Recently I bought Rory a little book in the dollar section of Target called "Bye Bye Pacifier." We've been trying to work up the guts to get rid of his "chewie" as he calls it, and I thought this book might be a way to start the process. So I'm reading Rory the story this afternoon before naptime and it goes a little something like this:

Bye bye Chewie? (Actually, it says pacifier, but you get the idea.)
No! I love my chewie!
I take it with me everywhere,
but sometimes it gets in the way.
My mommy is always so happy
when I take my chewie out of my mouth.
One day she asked me if I would mail my chewie
to a baby that needs one,
so I took my chewie out and put it in an envelope.
Mommy and Daddy are so proud of me!
They say I'm a big boy now!

After I finished reading this little gem to Rory, I say to him, "Hey Ro, how would you like to give your chewies to some babies that need them?"

He shakes his head and says, "No, that's okay, Mama. Their mommies can just buy them some at Target."

So much for THAT idea.

Bedtime Battleground

I'm beginning to seriously question our decision to take Rory out of his crib and put him into a bed. And I mean SERIOUSLY. We had finally gotten into a decent routine where we could put him down to sleep in his crib with a kiss and then walk away without a fuss (and trust me, it took us quite awhile to get there - just read some of my old blog posts!). Now I feel like we're all the way back at square one, having to lay down with him, not just to get him to go to sleep , but to get him just to STAY IN HIS BED. He's decided that it's a game to get up and sneak out to find us, and no amount of threatening or following through with punishment seems to be helping. It's been taking me an entire hour to get him to go down for his naps - and it's a constant battle just to keep him laying down. And once he finally dozes off, I have to hold my breath, tip-toe out of the room, and pray that the floor doesn't squeak - because if he hears me leaving, well, all hell breaks loose.

Arrrgh! This sucks.

We're All In This Together...

High School Musical is the new favorite movie in our house (it's even surpassed Polar Express, if you can believe it!). Rory watches it at least three times a day at the moment, and listens to the sound track even more. Who would have a thought that a two and a half year old would get so entranced by a musical! But as you can see from the video below, he LOVES it, and we love watching HIM.



Guess we better think about getting him a real microphone stand, eh?:

Rock on, Ro.

The New Big Boy Bed

This picture speaks for itself...he LOVES his new bed!



Hoby took apart the crib tonight and we stored it away (at least until another one comes along that needs it!).

Sighhhh, I guess my baby is a baby no longer...