Dane's stats, take 2

I tried to do this post last night but our computer froze up, had to be restarted, and I lost my post.  I'm just not getting ambitious enough to repeat it.

Dane has his four month appointment and is our smallest baby.  He's almost exactly the size Aubrey was but being as she was a girl all her percentiles were higher.  He was 15 pounds 7 oz. (50th percentile) and 25 inches (only 25th percentile!)  I've never had a kid that didn't check out on the big side of things so this was a switch.  He's not going to get any chubbier either at the rate he's moving.  He rolls, flips, and then squinches and wiggles himself in circles.  I am not ready to have another mobile child.

Happy Memorial Day weekend to you all!

Have you ever....

...attempted to wrap prewrap (a thin wrap used under athletic training tape to protect that skin that is supposed to be wrinkle free) and strategically wrapped outer tape around a four month old baby's foot who REFUSES TO STOP ROLLING OVER?? It's really really really hard. (Read, impossible.)

Per request

Dane on his four month birthday
Greg on his 31st birthday, getting some help with the candles.
Two of my boys
Dane playing.  His coordination gets better every day.
Trying out the exersaucer for the first time.
Exersaucers seem to be fun for everyone...

Aubrey and I dressed up for Lianna's graduation dinner.

Jen has requested more pictures and I am never one to disappoint.  Here are some recent ones of my little lovelies.

Speaking of lovelies, Dane is four months old today and rolled from his back to his stomach for the first time!  He has been rolling the other way for a while but pulled this new trick out twice today.  He has to work for it but I already admire his persistence.  He grunted his way to his tummy and then looked so proud.  Already so big!

City girl humiliation

A little background.  In case any of you don't know, my dad grew up VERY rural.  Miles down a dirt road, snowed in months out of the year, trapped between a mama moose and her calf in his yard, one room school house, etc.  He is a man's man.  And he has raised some ridiculously citified girls.  Now for my story...

Remember the reindeer living down the road from us?  Lianna was visiting yesterday and I asked if she wanted to take a drive and go see them.  The kids were all excited, they love to go see the reindeer.  We pile in the car and take off.

When we get to the ranch, there they are, about 30 reindeer, eating, growing huge racks (their antlers), and shedding heavy winter coats.  Up ahead I spy a man and decide to go ask if they are his animals.  I have been very curious as to how these animals ended up in this part of the world.  This is how the conversation played out.

"Um, excuse me, are these your animals?"

"Yes, they are."

"Now, they are reindeer, right?"

(In true excitement): "REINDEER?  Where??" (Very bad sign.)

"Um...."

"THOSE??  (Snicker to self.) Those aren't reindeer, those are elk.  You're not from around here, are you.

(Stammer, stutter):  "Oh, ha, um, I thought elk had thinner horns.

Lianna, whispering in the seat next to me, "Antlers Sara, antlers."

"I mean antlers."

What followed was a very kind story about how antlers grow and how we were welcome to drive past the animals any time.  I had really wanted to know how he came by owning the animals but was far to humiliated to ask.  We sped off, probably never to return.  I assure you we were the talk of his dinner table that night.  Honestly though, is it my fault that they look so much like reindeer??

Later that night when I told the story to my dad I asked him why on earth he had gone along with my reindeer theory.  He said he was sure I knew what an elk looked like and trusted me when I said they weren't elk.  I started to describe the animals.  Do elk have white butts?  Yep.  Do they have thick ANTLERS?  Of course.  Are they smaller than moose?  Certainly.  I blame my father for not saving me from city girl embarrassment.  

The most distressing part of the story for my dad is that I can't get Nathan to now say they are elk.  After we got home Nathan said something about liking the reindeer and Lianna said, "You know, you can also call them elk."  Nathan scowled at her and said, "NO, reindeer."  My dad told me that I have to have Nathan calling them elk by Lianna's wedding.  We will be seeing his brother, my uncle then, and that man is an outfitter for heaven's sake.  His son's first word was elk.  It's all so embarrassing.

Nathan

Sometime this weekend the terrible two's fairy snuck into my son's room and whispered in his ear, "Hey there sonny, did you know that you'll be two in a month and it's time to become a grand daddy turd?" Nathan, ever dutiful, obeyed.

Nathan is very articulate and the most common things I have heard the past two days are, "NO WAY!", "Mommy, I no pee pee in the potty", and "No Aubee, I have first!!!!" even though he most certainly did not have it first. These phrases have been interspersed with hitting, time out, kicking, time out, dead weight fits, time out until your dead, and flailing of limbs. I kid you not, the two year old possession hit him over night and it is not pretty.

Aubrey, ever self righteous, spent most of her time today saying, "Wow Mommy, is Nathan really in a lot of trouble? Is he not obeying? Look, I am listening. Look, I am obeying. Can I have an M&M for obeying?" Dane got in on the fun by spitting up at least a guzillion times.

Oh, and I'm still sticking with the red until the hilarious comments quit.

Comments?

What do you think about the new background? Too red?

Mama Bear

If you are a paid child care worker, there are two things I believe are essential. First, you must agree to take good care of the children you are watching. Second, you must recognize your limits and know when you are no longer able to do this. Which brings me to my rant.

I attend MOPS a few times a month and the church provides childcare. Nathan has struggled all year with this. He is upset when I leave and antisocial and sad the whole time I'm gone. I have been called out more than once to come and get him he was so upset. It has been tough leaving him knowing how unhappy he is. The last several times though I have seen progress. No more crying when I leave and happier when I pick him up. Today was a revolutionary. When I dropped him off he walked right in, waved happily good-bye, and went in his class. SUCCESS I thought.

Two hours later I picked him up. The worker in his classroom is always there but usually in a different age group. When she saw me she looked down, presumably at the short person behind the door and said, rudely, "Nathan, your mom is here." Out walks my Nathan, a bawling, snotty little guy. Horrified, I picked up him up and said, "Has he been like this the whole time?!" This was the response:

"YES, as a matter of fact he has. And he has refused to play with any of the kids. All he does is sit in a chair and howl if anyone looks at him. And when we were outside he was so out of control that I had to bring him in. And then he just sat in here and cried some more. And blah blah blah blah blah........." Imagine this tirade of hers in the snottiest, shortest voice you can imagine. The tone of her voice was saying, "Your kid is a brat and you are responsible for his behavior in here." This went on but I tuned her out because I was consoling my poor kid as he continued to cry.

For anyone that actually knows Nathan, he is the happiest kid on the block. Greg always says he has the gift of joy and he never acts like this except at MOPS. I was so upset by the situation for two reasons. One, Nathan had been unnecessarily sad and miserable for two and a half hours while I was 30 feet away. Second, THEY SHOULD HAVE PAGED ME! When I check the kids in I am given a pager and I am one page and about 30 seconds away from being there. He clearly had frustrated the heck out of this woman and all I could think to tell her was, "You should have paged me before it got to this point." I get that he wasn't making any friends but it kills me to think that not only was he so sad but that he was being treated meanly too. Before you get this ticked off at a not yet two year old, CALL HIS MOM! That's the point of the pager, to relieve these workers when they don't know what else to do.

Then, when I picked Aubrey up I asked her what she did. She said, "I helped take care of Nathan." Apparently their classes were outside at the same time and all that separates the play areas is a chain link fence so they obviously hung out together at the fence. Aubrey told me, "I told Nathan, 'Nathan, don't be sad, Mommy will come back.' " My little angel care taker, looking out for her brother. The whole situation made me so upset. Nobody loves your kids the way you do and to think that anyone would intentionally be unkind or mean to one of them kills me. Which brings me back to my second point. If you are being unkind and mean to a two year old, CALL HIS MOM. She will love the heck out of him anyways.