Drakes Island is...

... walking with your husband and the same two dogs down the same stretch of beach at the same time of year as you did when you got engaged eight years ago, but this time with your children in tow.

... jumping in the car with your two boys and two dogs to go for a pre-bedtime drive around town, only to end the drive about 10 seconds later as you pull up to the jetty at the perfect time to watch the sun set over Wells Harbor and decide that watching the sunset on the beach in your jammies is a much better idea.

... sleeping with the windows wide open so you can listen to the sound of the waves as you drift off to sleep and wake up to the crisp, cool air.

... watching your four-year-old go from not being able to pedal a bike to riding it back and forth across the street the next day to "Uncle Shailer's driveway" like his dad did as a little boy.

... watching the same little boy count the days until Pappa Ken would arrive so he could take him on a bike ride "all the way to the stop sign" [down Drakes Island Road].

... cramming five adults, five children and six dogs into a small cottage so you can spend Labor Day weekend with family.

... plopping your one-year-old son down in the sand on the beach for the first time since he learned how to walk and seeing the twinkle in his eye as he walks as fast as he can to the ocean, carefree and fearless.

... watching as your family plays baseball on the beach -- your husband as the pitcher, your four-year-old as the batter, your one-year-old as the "catcher" and your nine-year-old golden retriever as the outfielder -- while your ten-year-old soaking wet golden retriever sits in your lap (you and the dog being "the people" which is what your four-year-old calls the fans), and realizing this is one of the best moments of your life.

... looking on as your two children play with their cousins on the same beach that four (five???) generations of your husband's family have spent their summers and realizing that although it has changed a lot, it really hasn't changed at all.

... catching up with friends you haven't seen in a whole year and feeling like no time has passed at all.

... giggling on the inside as you watch your son and his Crazy Aunt Melissa as they try to dig all the way to China, stopping periodically to listen to hear if they can make out anyone speaking chinese.

... digging trenches and building sandcastles with Granny Annie on your last day on Drakes Island and realizing that she is enjoying it just as much as her grandson and that you have never seen her look so lovely.

... being so exhausted by the end of the day that even the luxury of being able to watch your beloved Red Sox on NESN cannot keep you awake past 8:30.

... realizing you could have packed a bathing suit and one change of clothes and still had plenty to wear during your 9-day stay.

... getting tears in your eyes as you cross the bridge on the way off the island, knowing that a whole year will pass until you get to experience this slice of heaven on earth again.

Morning

Today was one of those mornings when I was truly so thankful to be a mommy. Weekday mornings are usually a frenzied and frankly semi-nightmarish experience, what with trying to get kids fed, ready for school and out the door in a somewhat reasonable timeframe while simultaneously trying to get parents showered, dressed and ready for the day. The last week has been even worse since Chase has decided to get six teeth all at one time. To say he has not been sleeping well would be an understatement, and he (well, all of us, really) has been extremely grouchy as a result of the lack of sleep and general irritation getting six teeth at once brings. There has been a lot of crying (both boys), a lot of screaming (Chase), a lot of sighing (Casey and me), with some attitude problems thrown in (all of us).

I leave you with that background so you can understand the complete shift in the air this morning. First of all, Chase slept through the night for the first time in days. He woke up pleasant and talking to himself in his crib. Then, he let me get him dressed without having a complete meltdown. He giggled a lot. He talked up a storm. Not that we haven't seen glimpses of all of these things during this excruciating teething process, but they have come in bits and pieces speckled throughout long days of aggravation and it was so nice to see all of them together in a 5 minute time-span first thing this morning.

As is typical on a Thursday morning, Casey and I were supposed to have an early morning meeting at work. With that in mind and with both boys mercifully still sleeping, we rushed to get ready for work. As Casey was hurrying out the door, he picked up his phone only to find that the meeting had been cancelled. With extra time on our hands for a change, Casey decided to take Riley to get his haircut while I waited on Chase to wake up. By the time Chase was up and I had enjoyed more of his cheerful company than I'd realized, Riley's haircut was complete. Chase and I met Casey and Riley in the parking lot at the barber shop and the three of us watched as Chase took his turn getting his hair cut. We were still a little ahead of schedule as we made our way out of the barber shop. Casey had to head to work but I took the opportunity to take the boys to Dunkin' Donuts for our traditional post-haircut treat. It was there that a true miracle occurred: both boys sat in their seats, smiled, behaved, were polite (Riley), didn't throw food (Chase) and were generally wonderful to be around. We spent at least 30 minutes watching cars go by, talking to other people enjoying their morning coffee, and eating our donuts. It was the first time in quite awhile that I was able to not rush them along and just enjoy their company on a weekday morning. It was also the first time in awhile that I felt like I had it all together as a mom.

I would be curious to know if the morning was a success because it was not rushed or if it was because Chase's happy disposition has returned or if it was because this morning was the first morning in months where the air was cool and crisp and not humid and overwhelming, or if it perhaps was a little bit of all of those things, but whatever the cause, I am thankful and happy to have spent a morning with two delightful little boys.

Running Buddy

Oh teeth, how I wish you would all just break through already. I want my happy baby and good sleeper back!!! Last night was a brutal night of sleep. Chase spent two and a half hours straight crying, screaming and tossing and turning in his crib. Poor little guy was so uncomfortable and absolutely nothing I did to calm him down worked. I held him, I rocked him, I rubbed his back, I bicycled his legs, I talked to him. He was having none of it. It was almost like having a newborn all over again, except possibly worse because his crying is SO MUCH louder and more agonizing now.

So when he woke up early this morning screaming uncontrollably, I was not exactly bright and chipper, not that I am generally bright and chipper in the morning anyway. Not wanting him to wake up the entire household (Riley had been up late by his standards having a playdate with some friends and Casey had been up extremely late by anyone's standards at the Bears-Panthers game in Charlotte), I decided to pluck Chase out of his crib and get him out of the house quickly. Holding a large, squirmy baby while changing my clothes, pouring a glass of milk and putting on my shoes proved to be a challenge, but I succeeded to do all of the above and get him out the door without him crying.

It was a hot, humid North Carolina morning as we made our way down the driveway. I am completely out of shape, not that it would matter in conditions such as those, but for the next 48 minutes (who's counting) I ran around our neighborhood and Graylyn pushing my sleepy little guy in his stroller trying to coax him back to sleep. Sleep did not happen, but something equally as amazing did: I actually enjoyed this early morning exertion. And Chase seemed to love watching the sun rise, listening to the birds chirp and the cicadas hum, and taking in all of the people and places we encountered. We saw other early morning runners, people walking their dogs, dads pushing their also-tired babies in strollers (must be that Saturday mornings are for mommies to sleep in???), fountains at Graylyn and cats on the prowl.

Don't get me wrong, given my preference at 6:30 in the morning, I'd probably choose to be snug in my bed, but this was a pretty nice alternative. For both of us.

Indy 500

It seems that Chase is obsessed with riding in his "Crazy Coupe" recently. Grandpa Jim and Grandma Terry are here visiting for the weekend and poor Grandpa Jim made the mistake of agreeing to push Chase around in the car. Little did he know that Chase would fall asleep in the car while being pushed (an absolute rarity -- the kid NEVER falls asleep in anything but his crib). I guess he'd had a big day at school. The difficult part of this was two-fold: first, Chase would wake up instantly if my dad stopped pushing the car around, so my poor dad went round and round and round and round in circles around our circular driveway for at least 30 minutes; second, it was extremely hot and humid out during this adventure so my poor dad was drenched by the time dinner was ready and he could stop pushing Chase around. We improvised a bit and did Oberon pit stops where either Casey or I would hand off a nice cold beer to my dad as he continued to do circle after circle. The good news is that the Crazy Coupe has cup holders and since the drink-stealing bandit was asleep inside his car, we didn't have to worry about him trying to snatch it. Poor Grandpa Jim complained about the "marathon" he had just completed, but secretly I think he loved pushing his young grandson around while Riley rode his bike in circles right next to him.

Playing with the "Big Kids"

It is so much fun now that Chase can walk around. He thinks it is so much fun to try to keep up with his big brother. Today we went over to our friends' house for dinner. Their daughter Olive is Riley's age (you may recall her from prior posts -- Olive was his first girlfriend and although their romance has dwindled, they still remain friends (thankfully because we like to hang out with her family) and their son Finn is about 5 months older than Chase. It was incredibly fun watching the kids all play together. We still have to closely supervise all of them (and especially the younger two), but it is awesome to be able to enjoy a little bit more adult conversation now that the kids can play and (mostly) entertain themselves without needing us to help them interact. The highlight of the evening (for me, at least) was when we turned on the song "Wagonwheel" and all four kids started dancing. A completely idyllic moment where all 4 kids were having a ball and all 4 parents could sip on their drinks, smile and think, "Life is truly good."

Growing Boy

For the last 12 months, I have worried constantly about Chase's size. As mentioned numerous times, he hated to drink (likely due to severe reflux) and until we introduced solid food to his life, I felt like we were force feeding him every day. As also mentioned, this kid LOVES to eat and he will eat pretty much anything. Well, it's finally paying off. At his smallest, he was in the 7th percentile for weight, which is very close to being considered "failure to thrive." I'm not sure what exactly "failure to thrive" means, but it sounds scary and I didn't want him to get there. I am happy to report that in the last 3 months he has gone from the 9th percentile in weight (which was already a big improvement) to 19th percentile. That is definitely within my comfort zone.

Official stats: 20 lbs 10.5 oz (19th percentile); 29 inches long (50th (ish) percentile) and head circumference is 74th percentile. Doctor reports that he is growing well. Atta boy!

Say What?

It is strange... it's like Chase somehow knows that he just turned one and now all of a sudden his language skills are taking off. That's not to say that he's actually SAYING anything, but it is becoming quite clear that he understands what we are saying to him. His only word (if you can call it that) at this point is "dah" which is always accompanied by him pointing at something, so the loose translation of "dah" is "what's that?" (at least the best I can tell).

The spoken word aside, he does seem to know how to use certain motions to respond to what we are saying. For example, if you tell him to say good bye to someone, he'll wave enthusiasticly (same being true for "hi"). If you ask him if he's "all done", he will shake his hands (sign language for "all done"). This gets confusing at times because he knows shaking his hands is the correct response, but it doesn't always mean that he's actually all done eating. Sometimes he is (which becomes quite clear when he starts throwing food if you leave his tray within arm's reach), and sometimes he'll wave his hands and then keep eating. Oh well.

His favorite, I believe, is giving high fives. If you ask him for a high five and hold your hand out, he will slap it with all his might and then start giggling.

Every once in awhile, I'll swear that he says "mama" (especially when he's crying because I've had the nerve to close the door on him when I go to take a shower) or "dada" (similar context) or "Ry-ry". One night I swore he said "bye-bye, Ry-ry" when I told him to say good night to his big brother before I took him up to bed. Not sure if he actually knows those words or not, but either way, it sure is fun to be able to communicate with him. His sweet little voice is music to my ears (the crying and screaming as his only means of communication were not).

Happy Birthday Baby Boy!!!

Dear Chase,

How are you a year old already?!? I still remember like it was yesterday holding you in my arms for the first time in the operating room and bawling my eyes out because you were alive and healthy (and rowdy!!). For nine months, the first thing I thought of when I woke up and the last thing I agonized over before falling asleep was whether or not you would survive. I worried about you so much and then just like that, you were here changing our lives for the better.

You weren't awake much at first and I sure did love you for that. You gave me the time I needed to recover... and then some! Once you woke up, you were a wild man right from the start. You were quite the busy-body, and I couldn't even feed you in the same room as your dad and your brother and the dogs because you were way more focused on what they were doing than you were on eating.

My maternity leave came and went in such a blur. The highlight of my leave was our time in Maine. You loved the beach even as a little guy, and it was apparent right away that you were going to turn into a water baby. You loved the fresh air, the sound of the waves and caught on quite quickly that Maine is a place where stress goes away and life slows down to the pace it should be every day.

By the time you started school, your severe reflux issues had reared their ugly head and I fretted about you, your weight and your happiness on a daily basis. Luckily, you were in the care of two ladies who loved you so much and did everything in your power to make you happy and comfortable for as long as it took for your body to outgrow the discomfort.

I felt like a thousand pound boulder had been lifted off my chest as soon as a combination of eating table food, cutting some teeth and learning to crawl happened what seemed like simultaneously. You started to smile more and laugh (a lot). It took so many months to hear the sweet sound of your giggle that I wondered if you would ever experience the feeling of having such joy that you just could no longer contain it. I'm not sure if it was just that you were finally feeling better or if you were just so frustrated about not being able to do the things you wanted, but either way, the change in you made my world whole again.

And now, well now the sky seems to be the limit for you. You smile, you laugh, you clearly like to make others happy, you crawl, you are getting the hang of walking, you splash around in water like there's nothing finer in the world, your face lights up in delight when I enter the room, you communicate by pointing at things you find interesting, you are making friends, you will hug my legs tight for a quick snuggle when you are particularly proud of something you've done, you crawl into my lap and give me a hug in the morning, you will do just about anything to try to keep up with your brother.

I am so proud of you for being the sweet boy you've become and I am so beyond happy for you that you endured whatever it was that you went through and came out of it as such a happy, mischievous, fun-loving little guy. Watching you dance, smile and toddle around give me more joy than I ever thought possible.

Keep moving to the beat of your own drum.

With all my love,
Mom

Progression of the family walk

Taking a walk each day has been a part of our lives since Casey and I first moved into our house on Elizabeth Avenue ten years ago. First it was just us and Winston. A year later we added Wrigley (walks have never been the same since her addition as they now absolutely require a ball and a lacrosse stick). Five years later we added Riley, first pushing him in a stroller, then permitting him to walk on his own while pushing a lawnmower or shopping cart of large car or something else to keep him upright and stable, then simply by him holding one of our hands, then with him riding a bike or running. Three years after Riley joined us, we added Chase to the mix. I cannot tell you how many people stop to look at our merry band walking down the sidewalk. Winston and Wrigley off leash and surprisingly being the most well-behaved and under control of the bunch. Riley running or biking ahead, sometimes falling and causing a mighty ruckus due the perceived (his perception) severity of his injury. And then there's Chase. As a newborn, he'd lay quietly in the stroller, never really falling asleep like so many babies do, but instead being always too interested in what was going on around him to bother with sleep. As an older infant, he insisted on being in a Baby Bjorn instead of the stroller because he wanted to be much more a part of the action than the stroller allowed (unless, of course, he was in the double stroller with his brother, in which case he would contentedly ride in it for long periods with his favorite companion at his side entertaining him). Recently, with his newfound walking abilities, he just wants to walk by himself. The problem with this is that he tires quickly, and is very easily distracted (stopping to point at flowers, trees, whatever it is that strikes him that particular moment). The walk takes an eternity, and at some point, it is simply easier to pick him up and carry him the rest of the way home. But this too has its downfalls... for one thing, he is starting to get heavy AND our neighborhood is very hilly. Casey had to carry him on his shoulders the other night and although Chase loved it, Casey looked like he was ready to crawl into bed by the time we got home. The larger problem, however, is that even though he is tired and/or distracted, Chase does NOT, under any circumstances, want to be carried. Like I said, he wants to do it himself, and wow can this kid be stubborn at times!!! The most recent compromise: taking turns between walking "by himself" and riding in his car. This in itself must be comical because (a) he does not want to actually sit on his bottom in his car and (b) climbing in and out seems to be part of the experience for him. So again, walks take an eternity. His birthday present from us is a wagon. I'm hoping that will appease him for long enough that he can build up some walking stamina to make it around the block. Meanwhile, I guess we will continue to be a spectacle for all our neighbors. The plus side -- it is really awesome to pause long enough on walks to appreciate the "little things" that young children find fascinating but that we would pass without batting an eye almost any other time.

Naughty

We are starting to try to teach Chase the concept of "no". He is a curious little dude, and seems to want to get into absolutely everything that he shouldn't (pulling power cords, unplugging carbon monoxide detectors, splashing in the dogs' water bowls, climbing stairs unsupervised, playing in the fireplace, opening doors with steps right below, pulling up on rickety furniture, banging tv screens, etc.). Being the good, patient parents that we are, we calmly tell him "no" and try to relocate him. He is relentless and seems to enjoy the "game" of it. I'll give him credit for his persistence. However, I do believe that he now understands the concept and is just toying with us. The best example is at dinnertime. He will take his sippy cup and dangle it in his fingertips off the side of his highchair, staring at you all the while. If you tell him "no", he will smile, put his cup back on the tray of his highchair and wait for you to clap. He will repeat this exercise time and time again until you grow tired of it (he never tires of it), at which time he will simply let the cup fall out of his hand and drop on the floor. After the cup has been on the floor for less than a second, if you haven't immediately gotten out of your chair to retrieve it, he either whines or screams at the top of his lungs (depending on his mood). If you make the mistake of picking the cup up and giving it back to him, he will hold it for a few seconds and then chuck it at the floor.

Truth be told, the process is somewhat aggravating, but mostly, I think it's pretty funny that he clearly understands the rules and just wants you to cheer him for following them, or, in the alternative, to see what will happen if he doesn't. I guess this is the beginnings of independence???

Good Times

What a fun night!!! Don't get me wrong, we all missed Casey, who is spending the weekend in Philadelphia with his dad seeing the home he grew up in, having a few cheesesteaks and attending a Phillies game, dearly. But... we managed to have a good night nonetheless. Riley attended Kids Club at FCCfor the very first time and had an absolute blast playing with his friends woot his crazy parents helicoptering all over him.

And I, well, I am the amazingly lucky one who got to spend time one on one with sweet baby Chase. I often feel guilty about the fact that Chase will never get to be the center of our world like Riley was for the first three years of his life. Not that we don't want Chase to be the center of our world, but it just isn't possible since we have two awesome little guys to look after. But tonight, tonight Chase got the rare opportunity to be the center of my world, all while his brother was off having fun (which was completely apparent each time Riley and his friends walked past the patio where I was eating dinner on their way to some cool new activity, looked around for me until he found me in the crowd and then smiled and waved quickly so his friends might not see), leaving me completely guilt-free about spending quality time with just Chase.

Chase was totally in his element -- eating mac and cheese, outside, while listening to live music. Any of those things alone would make his day, but put all of them together and he was in heaven! After dinner, we walked and walked and walked -- on the cart path, on the putting green, on the hill, it didn't matter. Again,all the while listening to live music.

After all the walking, he spent a solid hour trying to alternating his time between trying to eat his friend Wesley's ice cream cone and attempting to roll a golf ball into one of the holes on the putting green, which really just turned into him playing with the little flag that goes into the hole.

We stayed out late (again) but only because he was having so much fun. I loved every second of it. The only thing that would've made the night better is if Casey had been there... But then again, if Casey had been there, I wouldn't have gotten my sweet boy all to myself. Feeling like one lucky mom tonight!

Sweet, sweet boy

Here's another thing I love about Chase. For as much as he is curious and devious and into absolutely everything, every once in awhile he will flash you the most angelic little smile. I mean, truly angelic. When he sits on the floor, legs out in front of him, and gives me that sweet, sweet smile, my heart really fells like it will almost melt.

He really is a sweet, sweet boy.

Barber Shop

Well, Chase is officially a big boy. Today he got his very first haircut. Not a whole lot to cut off, just got rid of the Terry Bradshaw look. As Riley stated to me, "He is being super brave." No tears, no fear of the scissors or the clippers, actually smiled when they used the gadget that blows the cut hair off your clothes. The nice guy that cut his hair said he did an amazing job and didn't even charge us. All in all, a good experience.

After the haircut, we headed to Dunkin' Donuts, which is about a block away from Mount Tabor Barber Shop, for a post-haircut treat. The good news is that Chase was not the slightest bit interested in his donut. I think he is saving himself for Congdon's (in Maine).

Pool Time

Dare I venture to say out loud that we may be turning a corner? Chase was an absolute champion tonight at the pool. He walked up and down the ramp. He ate his dinner without a fuss and sat in his high chair for at least 30 minutes literally shoveling mac and cheese (and chicken fingers and curly fries and lasagna) into his mouth and never once had a meltdown about getting down even though we were getting dangerously close to his bedtime. Between this and the meltdown-free dinner experience at Doug and Leslie's over the weekend, I am beginning to think that one day soon we will be able to enjoy a full meal with BOTH kids present without one of us having to leave dinner early to get Chase home and in bed. Woo hoo!!!

Even better than that, however, was what occurred after dinner. LEGITIMATE WALKING!!! Twenty-two steps in a row without falling, holding onto anything or just freezing in place. And not once, not twice, but three different times (interesting that 22 steps is the magic number every single time). He was the highlight of the pool and was just beaming!

I can't remember a better night. (I seem to be saying that a lot lately.)

Just Chillin'

Today as we were driving home from school, Chase was unusually quiet (recently he has been "talking" non-stop -- and by "talking" I mean a whole bunch of gibberish followed by even more raspberry blowing). I decided to check in with Riley to see what he (Chase) was doing. "Oh, he's just chillin'." This reminded me of one of the funniest things about Chase as a little baby -- he always (and I mean ALWAYS) had his hands behind his head and looked like he was "just chillin'". One of my favorite pictures from his professional newborn photos is of him with his hands behind his head -- it is just so classically him. He would sleep with his hands behind his head, eat with his hands behind his head, and just lay there awake and alert but with his hands behind his head. Every new teacher that met him would comment on how funny it was to watch Chase do just about anything because he looked so chill with those hands behind his head.

These days, he is nothing but "chill" and is rarely still enough to do just about anything with his hands behind his head. Strange thing is, as adorable (and funny) as it was, I will take my non-chill and hilarious-in-other-ways baby any day (although I will admit that that little bit of "chillin'" in the car was pretty nice too).

Golf Cart

Back in April, we visited Grannie Annie and Poppa Ken down in Amelia Island for Easter. They were generous enough to rent a golf cart for the extended weekend so that we (and the Stirling's) could tool around. For us, at least, getting to the destination was just as much a part of the adventure (if not more) than the destination itself. Chase, who was 7-1/2 months old at the time and already not one for being still, absolutely LOVED driving around in that golf cart. He'd look around and smile for the first five minutes or so, clearly very interested in his surroundings. For safety reasons, I kept him faced toward me. Without fail, every single time we got in that golf cart, after those first five minutes, he'd lay is head on my shoulder and keep watching the world pass by until he quietly drifted off to sleep. I loved those golf cart rides -- Chase will his legs wrapped around my stomach, head on my shoulder, snuggled and so content you just hated to stop driving.

I was thinking about this today as we fast forward to present time. We took a spin on a golf cart at the Club as a reward for both boys being angelic at dinner. What a difference 4 months make. Instead of facing me, Chase wanted to face forward. Instead of falling asleep (even though it was bedtime), he was looking around, pointing at things, and generally having a big time.

Not sure which I prefer more, but I think (and certainly hope) there will be a lot of golf cart rides in the future.

Walking into school

Today, something remarkable happened. I got to walk into school holding one hand of each of my boys as they BOTH walked into the school and all the way down the hall to Chase's classroom on their own. Not an incredible feat for Riley, but a banner day for Chase!!!

A Late Night Out

As previously stated, Chase is a schedule kind of guy. He likes predictability. He also likes to sleep in his own bed. This makes it difficult to stray very far off course with his bedtime. Normally it gets pretty ugly if you keep him up even 10 minutes past his bedtime and you can just forget about him sleeping in a stroller or your arms. Not that this is a bad thing -- it's fabulous having a child who loves his 12 hours of uninterrputed sleep in his own bed -- but it does make a social life with kids in tow past 7:30 difficult difficult. So when we were invited over for dinner by our friends Doug and Leslie, I didn't have terribly great expectations (apart from knowing that the food would be excellent -- it was -- and that the company of great friends would be a lot of fun. People with adult children do not remember what it's like to have young kids who crave schedules, so I started to panic when dinner wasn't on the table until well past 7:00 (typical melt-down time). Much to my surprise, Chase was having so much fun, he forgot to notice how late it was. He climbed stairs, walked around holding the hand of anyone who would acknowledge him, cruised around on the furniture, stared for long periods of time at the ceiling fans, and just generally had a big time. It was one of the nicest, most enjoyable nights I can remember. I guess he can sense that good food, a few drinks and the company of good people are the perfect reason to throw all rules out the window.

Climbing

I think Chase may be destined to become a mountain climber. I have already mentioned his summit of our stair case and his love of climbing into and out of the pool. His new thing is to climb the mound of pillows on our bed, flop down, and bury his head in the stack of pillows. I think he thinks he is being slightly naughty, so after he buries his face in the pillows, he will tilt his head ever so slightly so he can see your face and give you a big smile. If you even make a more towards him, he squeals in delight. Such a goof!

Devilishy Adorable

This child is something else. I may have mentioned a time or two that he is into absolutely everything. He is also starting to understand the concept of "No". And by "understanding the concept" I mean that he knows that "no" means he is doing something he shouldn't be, not that he obeys the command. Some of his favorite unacceptable hobbies: pulling cords out of sockets and/or playing with cords, climbing up and down the stairs with no supervision, trying to launch himself head first off the bed, throwing absolutely any piece of food or any cup that he has grown tired of... You get the idea. Well, when you catch him doing any of these things and say "No", he will open his mouth as wide as he can and just stare at you with his mouth wide open as if to say, "What, you can't get mad at me if I look cute." And once the irritation leaves your face and/or voice, he'll smile.

Independence

What Independence Day would be complete without a few trips to the pool? Chase has never been afraid of the water, but it seems that recently he's taken a real interest in it. He would climb up and down the ramp leading into the pool for hours if you'd let him with a little bit of splashing mixed in. He isn't terribly interested in the little float he can sit it -- sitting still for long enough to relax is not his style. He loves to stand inside the pool and play with toys that are sitting poolside. Today as he was standing in the pool, I noticed he got a bit agitated after awhile and seemed to be trying to climb out. Mistaking this for a sign that he was tired of the pool, I picked him up and started walking him towards our table. He was not pleased, so I put him back down on the side of the pool and he immediately started to climb back in. After about 2 seconds, he was agitated again and trying to climb out. It took two or three times of this pattern before I finally realized that climbing in and out was the point. I look forward to the day when he can use words, but in the meantime, it's awesome that he can communicate now. He is starting to point at things that he wants, and also appears to be waving his hands to signal "all done" when he's done eating (either that or Casey, Riley and I are just interpreting it as that and making a big fuss about nothing). He is also pointing at objects and saying "dah" which roughly translated I think means "what's that?"

It's awesome to be able to communicate with him some, but I must admit, his new-found independence makes me a little bit sad. My baby is growing up much too quickly.

Fun Game

Chase has a favorite new game. It's called "Wrigley". The rules are not difficult to follow:

1. Pick up tennis ball.
2. Throw tennis ball.
3. Squeal with delight while Wrigley chases tennis ball.
4. Look confused when Wrigley does not throw tennis ball back.
5. Smile widely when Wrigley runs back with tennis ball and drops it.
6. Repeat.

The crazy thing was that this particular morning Chase outlasted Wrigley. I don't know whether that's a sign of Chase's persistence or a sad statement about Wrigley's aging process...

Enthusiasm

Chase is spending the last days of his first year trying very hard to learn to walk. He will let go of whatever he is holding onto, whether it be your finger, his shopping cart, the wall, your leg, your clothes or some very unstable object (those seem to be his preference) and just stand there looking like, "Hmmm, well what do I do now?" A few days ago he decided to take a few almost accidental, very tiny, wobbly steps toward my outstretched arms holding a bowl full of Cheerios (the things this kid will do for food). Yesterday at school, he took three consecutive steps before falling. Progress.

Chase woke up early this morning and I figured the cause was teething which I blame for most things. Lately when he's woken up early like this, he's just wanted to snuggle and will quickly fall back to sleep. Not today. I walked in to him standing in his crib with an enthusiastic grin. Still thinking he wanted to snuggle, I tried getting him to fall back to sleep. It was not to be. He is a strong little dude and squirmed and yelled until I gave up the fight. My next idea was to give him his milk because he had not eaten well last night (again, blaming teething) and I figured he was starving. Nope. More squirming, more yelling and a strong throw of the sippy cup later, I decided to turn on the light in his room and see what he would do. Immediately he gave me a great big smile, made a motion to get down, stood clutching one of the slats of his crib with a determined look on his face, let go and took a step. My enthusiastic little boy just wanted to get an early start at practicing walking.

Is it really July???

Today marks the first day of Chase's birthday month, so like I have done for Riley the past 3 years in the month of May, it is time to begin my daily celebration of all things Chase. At this point in his life, my absolute favorite thing about Chase is how much he delights in the little things. He loves being tickled and will giggle and giggle until you stop. When you do stop, he just looks at you in a way that makes very clear that he is not done yet and wants the tickle monster to come back and will giggle all over again until he gets the hiccups. He likes to be held, but only if it is in a way which permits him to be an involved observer of the world around him. He loves to pet the dogs and will look into their eyes sometimes like he can see all the way into their souls. He loves his little blanket that's in the shape of a baseball and will carry it all over the place if you let him in the morning. He loves water and would splash in it all day long if you'd let him. Doesn't matter if it's the bath tub, the dogs' water bowl, the pool, the water table or a puddle, he's a-splashing. He adores music. He loves to bang on the keyboard with Riley in the morning (actually, he loves to bang on just about anything). He likes any toy or book that plays music. He is absolutely wild about listening and dancing to just about anything, but Mumford & Sons and Coldplay are his favorites. He loves to eat and will devour just about anything you put in front of him. (Perhaps there is hope that at least one of our children will not inherit the picky eating gene I was inflicted with growing up.) He loves to throw things, whether it's a ball, a dish, food, a pacifier launched from his crib, or just about anything else he can get his little hands on. He has an INCREDIBLE arm for an 11-month-old (and we thought Riley was going to be our superstar baseball player...). "Talking" to his big brother and making him laugh is probably his favorite thing. He will do almost anything to elicit a laugh from Riley. (I know this spells trouble for us in future years.) He is so excited to see you at the end of a day apart that his whole face lights up when you walk in the room. If you aren't quick enough about getting to him, he will let you know and that's part of his charm. He knows what he wants and is not bashful about it.

Of all the things that I love about him, my absolute favorite (at least for today) is his self-confidence. When he does something new, it is written all over his face that he is absolutely delighted with himself. After about 10 seconds of silence the other day, I realized something was amiss, only to find him at the top of the stairs grinning like he had just summited Mount Everest. When he discovered his love of music, he squealed and bounced and flapped his arms around and wiggled his backside. When he started walking by pushing on his toy shopping cart, he held his little head up so high and practically strutted across the room. After he stood on his own for the first time without holding onto anything (a very new accomplishment), instead of crying when he eventually fell down, he smiled from ear to ear and waved his arms around in self-congratulation. When he took his first unassisted step (an even newer accomplishment), he looked around to make sure we were all watching and squealed when we clapped.

He is goofy, but can be very serious, especially when faced with a stranger. He is sweet, but opinionated. He is nosey. He is curious. He is active. He is into everything. He is amazing and somehow he is almost one.

Finally... a genuinely happy baby

Poor Chase has had a fairly rough go of things in his first year. First he had severe reflux. Then he cut a bunch of teeth all at once. Then he had sleep issues. Then he was extremely frustrated because he so badly wanted to move around on his own but couldn't quite figure it out. Then he outgrew his class at school but there were no openings in the "big boy" infant classroom and he was bored to tears (literally). He smiled a lot, but didn't say much, and getting him to giggle out loud was a challenge, if it happened at all.

I knew we had turned a page yesterday when Riley came running into the room to find me. "Monny, Monny," he gasped, "Chase just laughed!!! I haven't heard that before." And then he turned to Chase and said, "I'm so proud of you, sweetheart."

My heart melted on so many levels. First of all, that Riley genuinely loves his brother so much is precious. He really IS proud of him and tells him that often. But even more than that, the sound of Chase's laugh is just so delightful and contagious. Partly because it was hard-earned, partly because it is a sign that he's finally comfortable (for lack of a better word), but mostly because he does it often and on his own. His true personality is starting to shine through, and let me tell you, he is one funny dude. I would not be surprised if he ends up as the class clown someday. When you enter his room after he's been sleeping, instead of reaching up towards you so you'll pick him up, he scrambles in his crib in the other direction, giggling like it's the funniest game. When you try to change his clothes, he thinks it's hilarious to try to get away from you and climb off the bed. When he's around Riley, all he does is try to crawl away from him as fast as he can and he'll squeal in delight when Riley chases after him. In the car on the way to school, all he does is try to make Riley laugh by making silly noises or kicking his feet all around.

And if that isn't enough to make me smile, there's the dancing. This kid LOVES to dance and he loves music. No "baby" or "kid" music for him. Nope, he likes to rock out to Coldplay, Mumford & Sons and (as of yesterday at the pool) The Who. He will stand up and start bopping up and down, his little diapered bottom showing his enthusiasm. And he will grin, and not just a small smile, but a full-on goofy, semi-toothless grin which is wide enough to show off his silly fangs. There is no way not to smile and start dancing in response.

I can't tell you exactly what has changed for him. Maybe it's the table food -- this kid eats more than any baby I've ever seen (he usually outeats Riley who is over three years older) -- so much so that we often refer to him as a garbage disposal. Maybe he spent the first several months of his life starving and uncomfortable because his reflux made him hate formula. Maybe it's that he's mobile. Maybe he's having an easier time with teething. Maybe it's that he can finally communicate with us some -- he will point at things and clearly wants us to identify them because he will smile once you've told him what it is that he's pointing at. Maybe he's less bored. Maybe it's that he's finally taking real naps at school and getting the sleep that he so desperately needed. I don't know what it is, but I'm just so happy for him. Life is good.

Snuggle Time

Not sure exactly what is happening, but for the past few nights Chase has woken up around 6:00 a.m., a good hour and a half before his normal wake-up call. It will start out with him just jabbering, clearly talking about something and not sounding the slightest bit tired. Then he'll get quiet for a few minutes, lulling you almost into a false sense of security that you can, in fact, go back to sleep. Then he'll start whining, followed a few minutes later by crying. And not the type of crying that makes you think you can just let him "cry it out." We know the difference by now.

So I've reluctantly gotten out of bed and gone into his room only to find him standing up in his crib waiting for me. He immediately stops crying and breaks out into a big smile when he sees me as if to say, "Look lady, I tried talking to you about it first, but you ignored me, so I gave up and have resorted to this ridiculous crying." As I pick him up out of his crib, instead of squirming to get down as he normally would, he just buries his head in my chest, still clearly tired. Turns out that he was trying to tell me he wanted something and that "something" was me. With my sweet little boy laying with his head resting on my chest, silently sleeping the most contentedly peaceful sleep, I get the very rare chance to study every little feature on his tiny face and count my many blessings until I too fall back to sleep.

Musical Lesson

This past week, two significant events have occurred in Chase's life:

1. He graduated to the older infants classroom at school where he is the only child under the age of 1. It has been a good move for him -- the class is much more regimented in terms of specific play time, specific meal times and specific nap time. From about the second week of life, he has demonstrated that he does much better on a schedule, and the move to his new classroom has made a world of difference both at school and at home. He is more content and seems much happier. He has made leaps in his development (although that could be coincidental). He has started pointing at things and when you tell him what the object is, he smiles signifying that you have done exactly what he was requesting. We can also tell that he's trying really hard to learn how to stand on his own and to walk. He will let go briefly and stand on his own (I think 3 seconds is the current record) and grins like he is the most capable little dude in the whole world. He will walk across a room as long as you hold onto his hands and the focus you see written all over his face is incredible. He is babbling more, starting to wave hello and goodbye, and I would swear I've heard him say a few words (hey, bye, mama, dada and Ry-ry). It has been a fun week.

2. He graduated to the big boy car seat. He still has to sit facing the rear of the car and after one weekday incident and four additional incidents over the course of the drive to and from Chicago for Cody's graduation, we have determined that he shares my motion sickness gene. Poor guy. We are hopeful that this will cease when he can sit forward-facing when he turns one.

As a result of #2, he has developed a new hatred for the car (and believe me, he has never been a huge fan of the car). This morning was no exception and after about 3 minutes of screaming and crying on the drive to school, I thought I might have a mental breakdown. Following Riley's advice, I turned on the radio. Mumford & Sons was singing "I Will Wait", a song I like anyway, but that brought a new-found happiness to my life this morning when the screaming and crying from the back seat immediately turned into Riley slapping his knees as if they were drums, Chase squealing in delight, and both boys giggling. My only regret is that I couldn't see either one of them in my review mirror because I am certain the smiles on their faces at that moment would have been worth every single second of the crying and screaming (Chase) and resultant whining (Riley) I've had to endure on that 6 minute car ride for the past 7 months. That's the amazing thing about being a parent -- one great moment erases hundreds of less favorable ones.

Gut Bowl

I am ok with admitting that at times Casey and I can be quite frugal. "Free" events at the Club are a big draw for us. Tonight was no exception. After a long day at work and school, we went to watch the Gut Bowl, a friendly tennis competition between Forsyth CC and Old Town CC. Riley loves to watch tennis, Chase delights in being outside, and Casey and I enjoy the free food and drinks, so it was a win-win-win. What struck me most about tonight (apart from Chase being amazingly well-behaved) was how different this event was for Riley this year. In prior years, he's stayed very near us and either watched the tennis or required us to be his entertainment. Not this year. He wanted a tennis racket, a ball and his baseball glove (???). As soon as he was equipped with these items, he spent the rest of the night playing on the backboard with a bunch of other kids (some who he knew and some who he didn't). He is so independent at times now that it simultaneously breaks my heart and makes me proud. He is a nice kid, decent at sharing, fun to be around, athletic, charming and kind. Could a parent ask for more?

Evening Walks

Now that the weather is warmer and the daylight hours are longer, we have resumed our (almost) daily evening walks. It is a nice way to unwind after dinner and transition into bedtime. The dogs love the exercise, Chase loves to look around, Riley loves just about any excuse to be active and outside, and Casey and I enjoy having a little bit of (mostly) uninterrupted conversation. We have been doing walks after work since the day we brought Winston home as a tiny little puppy almost 10 years ago and it's fun to reflect on how much our family has changed over the years and how many new additions we've made to our walking crew since then.

Riley's role in the walk is ever-evolving as well. He started out in his infant carseat attached to the stroller. Then he moved to sitting in the stroller itself without the infant carseat. Then he started truly walking with us -- first while pushing his little lawnmower down the street as we walked, then while holding our hands, then walking completely by himself but with frequent breaks to crouch down and closely examine something fascinating like dirt on the sidewalk or an ant hill or a feather or some other random item that caught his attention (those walks took F-O-R-E-V-E-R, perhaps his first attempts to delay bedtime). Then he started walking quicker. Then he wanted to ride his bike. Then he wanted to run, alternating between nights with Monny and Daddy as his running partner. Now his walking is really more playing catch with himself while moving in a (mostly) forward direction.

I can't wait to see what the walks bring for him next...

Ice Cream Picnic

Tuesday nights have somehow become our family night at the Club. When I drop him off for school on Tuesday mornings, Riley will say, "It's Tuesday. Do we get to eat at the golf club today?" For the most part, the kids are very good at the Club and it is good practice for them to eat out, use their manners, stay in their seats until everyone is done eating, etc. Tonight, however, was not one of those nights. Chase, at 10 months, has decided that he doesn't particularly care for napping at school. After spending roughly 9 hours there, you can imagine how tired he is after we pick him up. He likes to eat, so that is a good distraction up to a point, but after he's done eating, he is not afraid to let us (and the rest of the people eating dinner on the patio) know that he's just not feeling sitting in his seat patiently anymore. All wants he wants to do is GO TO BED. He is actually quite good at communicating this to us, even without being able to talk, so I suppose we should be happy about that. Still, it doesn't make his vocal protests any less painful. Casey finished eating his dinner and decided to take Chase home so that Riley and I could finish our dinners at a leisurely pace and enjoy some ice cream afterwards. Being my child, Riley was very excited about the ice cream and immediately lost all interest in his mac and cheese. He was insistent that we eat our ice cream sitting on the steps in the Club's dining room, right where everyone needs to be walking to get to their seats. Thinking this was not a great idea, I suggested that we take our ice cream outside and have a picnic in the grass overlooking the golf course. So for about 15 minutes, I got to sit and focus only on my time with Riley. We chatted, we watched people play golf, and we just generally enjoyed being outside indulging in some ice cream on a hot summer's day.

Love you

For as long as I can remember, Casey has said to Riley on an almost daily basis, "Have I told you yet today that I love you?" The responses from Riley are sometimes sweet and sometimes comical. The typical response, however, is "No." To which Casey replies, "I love you THIS much" (as he stretches out his arms as far as he can reach). Riley always copies him and says, "I love you THIS much" and outstretches his arms too. Casey's reaction, to tickle him as Riley's arms are outstretched. He knows it's coming and pretends to be annoyed, but I know he loves it and hope he never outgrows it. That smile is irreplaceable.

Birthday party at the ballpark

Today Riley's friend William had his birthday party at the Dash game. Just after the rain delay, Riley and his buddies decided to head over to the grassy area to play catch for awhile. Just as the rounded the corner from the third base line to the outfield, we heard a loud C-R-A-C-K. Jeremy Farrell did it again -- he had hit another booming home run. And who was directly in line to catch the ball as it sailed over the fence and landed at his feet about 5 feet away from him? Riley. It was almost a perfect moment -- getting a homerun ball in front of all of his friend and their parents... Even from about 1/4 of the way across the stadium as I watched this unfold with some of the other parents, I could feel his excitement (and honestly, the parents were all so excited for him too). But then the big kids came along. They had to be at least 12, and even though Riley with his glove on his hand was sliding downhill to grab the ball, they knocked him out of the way to get to the ball. Certainly a natural reaction, so I didn't hold it against them to have gone after the ball, and they were old enough to know better than to steal a ball from a little kid, so I was sure they'd do the right thing and give it back to him (especially because there were also some adults with the 12 year old monsters). It was not to be.

As Casey and I were discussing the etiquette of this later, I figured he might lecture me on how whoever gets the ball should keep the ball, even if it's a big kid vs a little kid. He surprised me with his response, "I'm just glad it was me that was right there and you across the stadium. I was mad, but if you'd been there, I'm pretty sure you would've knocked that 12-year-old kid out." Ah, he knows me so well.

Luckily, Riley is a much better sport than I am. He shrugged it off and kept walking to the grassy area to play catch with his friends.

ESPN

I woke up fairly early (for me) this morning to a quiet house. Instead of attempting to fall back to sleep, I decided to get out of bed and go out on the side porch to enjoy a cup of coffee and catch up on my blog. It was not to be. Riley, surely waking up when he heard the dogs clamoring down the stairs (they are both like bulls in a china shop in the early morning descent down the stairs), found me out on the side porch within minutes. He asked if he could watch highlights (baseball) on my iPad. So as I sit here typing, he is sitting next to me watching highlights from last night's Red Sox game. I cannot fully express how amusing this is. I'm not exactly paying attention, but every so often I'll hear him say things like, "And Nava makes the catch!" and "Now batting, Will Middlebrooks..." and "It's a grand slam for Johnny Gomes!" and "Ground ball double for Pedroia." The crazy thing is that he's always right, both about the player and about what he's done. Maybe I give him too much credit, but I can't imagine there are many three year olds who know this much about baseball and specific baseball players. Future sportscaster on our hands??? You heard it here first.

Friday Night Fun

Just about every Friday night, Casey and I meet at the kids' school, pick them up from their classrooms (why is it that Riley is always SO thrilled when Daddy picks him up from school???) and then we all walk a few blocks in downtown Winston-Salem to Mellow Mushroom for dinner. It is a great way to transition from the week into the weekend. Sometimes friends join us, sometimes they don't, but the food is always good, the beer is always cold and the atmosphere is perfect for our two enthusiastic little guys.

Helper

Casey was out entertaining clients tonight. I don't have to do it often, but being a single parent is hard and it had been a long day at work, so I was anticipating a rough night. I always try to break it to Riley early when something is going to be different about his schedule -- he likes routine and it was a gorgeous night, so I knew he'd be crushed not to have his favorite pitcher to place baseball with -- so on the way home I told him that Daddy was going to be at a meeting all night and asked him if he could please be a good helper. His response? "Yes ma'am." Hmmm. When we got home, instead of whining about what we were going to have for dinner (as is the norm), he grabbed the two grocery bags at the foot of Chase's seat and climbed out of the car (I hadn't even asked). As he struggled to carry the two bags into the house he said, "You have full hands so I'm being a good helper." (Love him.) Inside the house, he attempted to get the two grocery bags on the counter for what felt like 10 minutes, knocking himself in the face with them twice, but insisted he did not need help. As I was getting Chase out of his carseat, Riley fed the dogs (again without me even asking). Trying to capitalize on the few shorts minutes I had until Chase completely melted down (he is not a patient waiter when food is near), I put Chase on the floor to play and began making dinner (don't judge me for serving them scrambled eggs, cheese and toast, as I said, being a single parent is tough). Hearing a very loud thud, I looked up to find that the thud was Riley dropping a bunch of toys on the floor. About to get annoyed, I looked at Riley and he flashed me one of his big smiles and said, "Monny, look, I brought Chase some toys to play with so you could make dinner." For the next five minutes, I cooked in (relative) peace as the two boys played together.

After dinner, the three of us played for awhile until it was time for Chase to go to sleep. Afterwards, Riley, not one to forget an opportunity for chocolate, reminded me that we needed to make brownies for his teachers for Teacher Appreciation Day the next day. Proving that he really is without a doubt my son, he asked just about every two seconds if we were done stirring yet, knowing that that is the last step before pouring the batter into the baking dish, signifying it's time to lick the spoon (and the bowl).

As I was tucking him into bed later that night, Riley told me, "I was a good helper tonight. Daddy was at a meeting." Between the look on his face and what he had said, I could tell he was proud of himself for being a good helper. And I was proud of him too.

Adorable even when grumpy

Let's face it, Riley is a really sweet and kind kid, but even he can have off moments, particularly when he is tired. Tonight was no exception. He got sent to bed early for not listening (he had been using poor Wrigley as a jungle gym in spite of repeated requests to quit crawling on top of her to get to his ball). It is his response, however, that I love. Not quite sure how to fully articulate his thoughts, he looks at me through tear-streaked cheeks and says, "I'm not doing very well." I'm not sure why I love this so much, but it is just such a sweet way of saying what we already know, he's out of sorts. I kneel down to talk to him on his level and he says, "I'm just tired. And I'm cranky." It is moments like these that I am actually the most proud of him. No one is perfect, but at least he is starting to be able to recognize this in himself.

Bedtime

There is one minute every day that I look forward to more than almost any other -- the one where I leave the room after putting Riley to sleep. But not for the reason you might think (finally having a few minutes of quiet time with Casey after a very long and mostly exhausting day). Nope, it's for the simple thing that he says to me without fail each night as I'm leaving his room: "I love you. I hope you have a very good sleep."

Chores

Riley has done chores for as long as I can remember. When he was old enough to take his toys out of the bin, we also figured he was old enough to put them back in the bin, and we'd make him do that before he could move on to the next activity. As he got older and became more responsible, Casey started teaching him how to help feed the dogs. This is his most important chore and lately he has been giving us some attitude about it -- "but I want to watch baseball and not feed the dogs..." (imagine this in the most whiny voice ever at 7:00 in the morning). Casey has been consistent and has not given in to his pleas, and I witnessed the most amazing thing this morning. Riley woke up, went to the bathroom, went immediately downstairs and fed the dogs without being asked or even prompted. I was in the next room folding laundry and from the mud room I could hear Riley's sweetest voice saying, "Come on, Winnie. Come inside. I've already got your food in there." Winston apparently was not budging, so he persisted. "Come on, sweet boy, come eat your breakfast." God I love that kid.

Mother's Day

Perhaps the greatest Mother's Day gift of all was that both boys slept in two days in a row, Chase sleeping today until we woke him up at 9:00 because we wanted to get the day started, which was especially welcome because he hasn't slept past 6:00 for weeks (I blame teething and the fact that he's learned how to stand up in his crib and wants to do it all day and all night long to practice). It was wonderful to enjoy a cup of coffee while it was still hot!!! The day only got better from there. Casey made me french toast for breakfast. Riley, Chase and the dogs suprised me with two new rose bushes -- Riley telling me that he had a secret, taking me by hand and walking me to the garage where the secret was hiding. He could barely contain his excitement and it made me feel so good and so proud to know that he delights in seeing other people happy.

After breakfast, the six of us took a nice long walk to the playground and hung out there for awhile -- Riley and Casey swinging and playing on the slides, Chase practicing standing up and the dogs doing what they do best -- Wrigley chasing a ball and Winston laying at my feet in the most inconvenient spot for me trying to prevent Chase from falling. After the walk, it was already time for lunch. Casey made the most delightful crab cakes I have ever tasted (even he agreed they were good). After that, nap time for the boys. Casey planted my new rose bushes and did other yard work while I pulled some ivy from a spot that has been driving me crazy for months. This may not seem like a leisurely Mother's Day activity, but I was so excited to spend some peaceful time outside in the fresh air with Winston, ever the loyal companion, at my side the entire time. After about an hour, we got the boys up and headed to... you guessed it... a baseball game! Such a perfect day for a game, and the Deacons actually won. Riley and Casey spent most of the game playing catch, and an enthusiastic dad behind us raved about Riley's excellent throwing form (he had less to say about his catching technique which still leaves a lot to be desired). Chase and I hung out in the stands and had a lot of fun banging on the metal seats. Every time the Deacons made a good play, I'd throw him up in the air and he'd just giggle with delight. This is a particularly heavenly sound because for the first 9 months of his life, I never, not once, heard Chase giggle. He'd smile and squeal and do sort of fake-laugh noises, but he wouldn't giggle. I was beginning to think maybe he wasn't happy. Not so, it just took him awhile to find his giggle, and it also took me awhile to figure out that he has sort of an odd sense of humor (the funniest thing in the world to him being me making sniffling sounds and telling him how much he stinks).

After the baseball game, we came home and all 6 of us hung out outside in the afternoon sun for a few hours playing baseball, crawling around, playing in the sandbox and just enjoying a leisurely Mother's Day. I couldn't have asked for anything more.

The Kids Next Door

The three boys who live next door have been peering down at Casey and Riley playing baseball from the top of their fort for months. Right around St. Patrick's Day, they started talking to us. Since then, they talk to each other a little more every time they see each other. And just recently, Riley will go talk to them all by himself. Those conversations must be hilarious -- who knows what they talk about -- but it is fun to watch. Casey made the comment the other day, "Sometimes I look at him and can't believe he's my son." He was referring to the fact that he's growing up so fast and it's amazing to watch him develop friends, and just develop in general, in front of our eyes. I imagine it is even more apparent to us right now because his growing independence is in such stark contrast to Chase's constant dependence. I take comfort in knowing that Riley's a sweet, fun little boy and will probably attract quality friends in the years to come. But that doesn't mean we want to let go to let him make them on his own.

Hair Twirling

It is amazing that some things seem to be completely hereditary. I have never seen Casey twirl his hair in the entire 13 years we've been together. Not once. But I know from stories I've heard that when he was younger, Casey used to twirl his hair when he was tired. It just cracks me up to watch Riley sitting in his chair watching baseball at the end of a long day twirling his hair. It's even funnier when he stops twirling his hair and a big clump of hair stands up straight afterwards. My favorite thing is to think of a young Casey looking exactly the same way many years ago...

Early Wake-Up Call

I rarely (ok, almost never) go out with friends on a weeknight (or ever, really) and last night was one of the rare occasions that I did. I was out "late" (which translates to 10:30 p.m.). Of course this was the morning that Riley woke up early because he had a bad dream. Wanting to still get a bit more sleep, and knowing he likely would not go back to bed if I sent him back to his room on his own, I volunteered to go lay with him in his bed. This kid is rarely still, so getting to snuggle up next to him for a little while was a real treat. He pretended to be trying to fall back to sleep for awhile, but gave up and started banging on the bed (he called it "playing the drums"). Then he started giggling. Then, you guessed it, he started talking non-stop about last night's Red Sox game ("Monny, they were AWFUL!") and how he wanted to call David Ross on the phone (where does he come up with this stuff???). At this point, I gave up all hope of falling back to sleep or even just resting. So he decided he wanted to play "haircut" which is something we used to do when he was younger. For the next 20 minutes (at least) we took turns getting our hair washed, cut, combed and blown dry, with each of us getting a lollipop at the end of each haircut (thank you Mt. Tabor Barber Shop for making him believe it is every person's right to get a lollipop after a haircut).

Not quite the quiet start to my day that I'd been hoping for, but an even better one than I'd anticipated.

Hygiene

Most three-year-olds that I know love to take baths, but are luke warm (at best) about showers. Riley, on the other hand, LOVES showers, which is ironic (yes, Casey, I'm sure I'm using that word wrong) considering the fact that he HATED showers for the first few years of his existence. We used to make him shower after a day at the pool and you would've thought we were torturing him. Lots of squirming and screaming and tears. And then a cold, rainy day of "surfing" in Maine happened.

As previously mentioned, Riley, Chase, the dogs and I spent a week alone in Maine this past summer. Riley had recently turned three and Chase was about 6 weeks old. To say that being a single mom for that week was a bit exhausting is an understatement, but being in Maine is absolutely amazing and Casey and I wanted that experience for the boys. Besides, the theory was that I could take Riley, Chase and the dogs to the beach all day and it really wouldn't be that hard -- Riley and the dogs could run free while I supervised them and hung out with Chase. Great theory... until the torrential downpour and chilly temperatures hit one morning. Unwilling to stay inside (and possibly lose my sanity), I put Riley in his wetsuit, Chase in about one hundred layers and bundled myself up in a bright (and I do mean bright) yellow rain slicker that I found in the closet. Turned out to be one of the most memorable days of our trip. The dogs couldn't care less if it's raining -- Wrigley still chased the ball for ours and Winston still sprawled on the ground at my feet. Chase and I (and Winston) sat in the garage snapping a million pictures (my form of sanity). Riley, in his wetsuit, "surfed" for HOURS in the driveway -- on a skim board, a foam board, a stack of boogie boards, whatever he could find. And he had a BALL!!! I have so many fantastic pictures of him from that day that it will forever be etched in my memory.

When he eventually tired of surfing, the five of us went down to the beach -- the dogs off leash, Riley running way ahead, and Chase strapped to my chest in the Baby Bjorn (underneath the bright yellow rain slicker -- he was dry as could be). The dogs swam in the angry surf, Riley and I jumped waves, and Chase (still strapped to my chest warm and dry underneath the rain slicker) slept contentedly. It was awesomely fun. And did I mention COLD???

Which is how we get back to the topic of showers. After a full day in the cold, wet elements, Riley asked if he could take a bath (who could blame him). By this point, I needed to start making dinner, so an immediate bath was out of the question. I suggested a shower instead. He gave me a very skeptical look, but agreed. I put him in the downstairs shower which is immediately adjacent to the kitchen and started boiling the water for dinner. 10 minutes later, the water was boiling but Riley was not ready to get out of the shower (in his defense, this shower, although completely the opposite of fancy, has got to be the most amazing shower in the world -- not sure if it's the water pressure or the hot water compared to the somewhat chilly temperatures outside (the cottage in Maine is not really heated) or a combination of the two or something else entirely). So I put the pasta in the water. 10 minutes later the pasta was ready, but Riley still was not ready to get out of the shower. I swear he was in that shower for what felt like 45 minutes. Who knows, but this is when his love affair with long, hot showers began.

I was reminded of that this morning. For whatever reason, he decided that he wanted to take a shower before school. He won't allow me to stay in the same room as him while he showers anymore -- "I want some privacy" (yes, he really says that) -- so our compromise for safety's sake is that he has to talk to me the entire time. So I spent my morning getting ready for work while Riley narrated the ENTIRE Red Sox game from the previous night by memory. I perhaps know more about David Ross and Will Middlebrooks and Shane Victorino than the average person, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Ideas

I may have mentioned a time or two that Riley REALLY likes to talk. This is especially true when we are eating dinner and he doesn't feel like eating what we've prepared or when he is stalling at bedtime. All of a sudden, in the middle of a completely normal conversation, he will blurt out, "I got a idea!" which is always accompanied by an enormous smile and mischievous look. What follows next varies from day to day, but there is a common theme: his fantastic idea always involves something that he wants or that will benefit him.

Examples from the past few days:

"I got a idea! We could share some of the sweet tarts I got at school for taking a nap." (As an aside, perhaps it's the sweet tarts that typically prevent the nap???)

"I got a idea! We could play baseball on the side porch while we watch the Red Sox on the iPad."

"I got a idea! We could watch baseball on the TV." (Note: he wanted to watch on the TV instead of on the iPad on the side porch because he was banned from using the iPad.)

"I got a idea! We could go the the golf club for dinner and eat mac and cheese and strawberries."

"I got a idea! We could hancel (read: cancel) the rain so that it's sunny outside."

Music

Every so often, Casey and I allow the boys to spend a little time on their own without us hovering over them. Such was the case this morning. I was taking a shower and Casey was drinking a quick cup of coffee. Riley and Chase were in Riley's room with the door shut so that our crazy little man would not be tempted to attempt going down the steps without supervision.

As I emerged from the peacefulness of my shower, I heard a horrible sound coming from Riley's room. Well, not horrible in that something bad was happening, but horrible in that it was tremendously off-key. Upon entering Riley's room, I found Riley and Chase in the closet -- both standing up banging on the keys of the keyboard set up in Riley's closet, Riley singing at the top of his lungs, both boys grinning from ear to ear.

In hindsight, it may very well have been the most precious sound on earth.

Birthday Parties

It seems that turning four is officially a big deal. This is the first year we are having a birthday party for Riley, and it's the first year that many of his friends are having parties too. There are 4 other kids in Riley's class that have May birthdays. Today was the first of the 5 parties. Riley was so excited about picking out a gift for his friend, Grace. When we first asked Riley a few weeks ago what he wanted to get her for her birthday, I was not all that surprised when he said "a fire truck". After all, it is one of Riley's favorite things. However, when we went out to actually buy a present for Grace, we asked him again what he wanted to get her. This time his response was "a princess". Grace is a sweet but rowdy girl that definitely can hold her own with the boys, so Casey and I were sort of surprised by this choice. When we arrived at the party, the entire theme was princesses. When we were telling Grace's mom the story of picking out a gift, we laughed as we told her his first response had been a fire truck. Her reply, "Grace LOVES fire trucks." It seems that our boy has already grasped the art of listening to what girls want -- he knew the exact two gifts that would've made her day.

Olive

The first time I ever heard of Olive was way back in September when we were vacationing in Maine. We were at the back bay one morning. Riley, Casey and the dogs were walking around in the marsh while Chase and I stayed back on the sand so Chase could drink his bottle. When they came back from their adventure, Winston and Wrigley had been renamed Wilson and Olive. They retained those names for our entire stay in Maine. Not long after we returned, I saw the roster of names for the kids in Riley's class. On it were Wilson and Olive. It all made sense.

I didn't hear Olive's name again until mid-October. By then, the renaming of the dogs was a distant memory in my newborn-induced fog. It was during this time that Chase learned how to put himself to sleep and I had more time to spend with Riley before his bedtime. The two of us would lay in his bed with the lights off and stare at the ceiling. Sometimes we'd pretend we were watching fireworks -- pointing to different spots on the ceiling and talking about what color we saw and if it was big or small. Other times, he just wanted to talk, and somehow in that uninterrupted setting in his dark room, he started really talking to me about things that were on his mind. Sometimes it was questions about things he'd seen and didn't understand. ("Monny, why is Uncle Scar mean? Why did he hurt Simba's daddy? Did he killed him? Why did it make Simba sad?") Sometimes it would be silly stories that he'd made up. All of those conversations were precious to me. And then one night out of the blue he looked at my feet and said, "Monny, I like you shoes. Olive has shoes like yours." And with those ten words, I knew his life had changed. He had his first crush. So I asked him if he'd tell me more about Olive. He replied, "Olive is a princess." So I asked who the prince was. "Riley." (Big grin.) He then proceeded to tell me, "Monny, Olive likes dresses. She likes dresses with stripes. We match." (Immediately, a light bulb went off in my head: so THIS is why he had insisted on wearing exclusively stripes to school for the past few weeks. Prior to that, he had never voiced an opinion about his wardrobe.) Is it weird to admit that for a minute I was almost jealous of little 3-year-old Olive? I had Riley point her out to me the next day at school when I dropped him off, and I actually eyed her to make sure she was good enough for my baby. I wonder if this is how Casey's mom felt about me 13 years ago...

After October, all we heard about for months was Olive. His teachers also noticed the budding romance and said that they were always holding hands and sitting next to each other. Riley would get nervous walking down the hallway to his classroom when I dropped him off each morning. I had no idea you could get butterflies in your stomach at 3. It was adorable.

In November, I did what every good mom would do: I emailed Olive's mom and coordinated their first date. We met up with Olive, her parents and her little brother (who coincidentally is very close in age to Chase) at the park. It was so cute how excited Riley was in the week leading up to this date. We could've gotten him to do just about anything by threatening to cancel his playdate (I made a mental note to remember this down the road).

In their Christmas program, Riley and Olive had to be next to each other on stage. I was able to get a pretty good picture of them - both reindeer - and Santa framed it for him and left it in his stocking for him to open on Christmas morning. One of my few successes as a mom. He grinned from ear to ear when he came to show Casey and me what Santa had left.

Riley and Olive broke up sometime in January. He started to talk about her less. Casey and I would ask him about her sometimes and he didn't have much to say. Finally Casey ended up asking him if he and Olive had broken up. He shrugged and then said something like, "I'm just hanging out with the boys in my class."

I'm not exactly sure what happened to their romance, but as it turned out, Casey and I really liked Olive's parents and were sort of crushed when it was over. Luckily, they are now friends again and we had Olive and her family over for dinner, drinks and play time today. It was a lot of fun. I do hope that someday, when we do meet Riley's future in-laws, we like them as much as we liked the first candidates.

Story time with my baby

I may have mentioned this before, but Chase is completely in love with his big brother. Now that he can crawl, the first thing he wants to do when I put him down on the floor in the mornings is to crawl to Riley's room. I usually watch to make sure that he doesn't change his mind and head towards the stairs, and then I let the boys do their own thing for a few minutes before I interrupt. Today, when I entered Riley's room, they were both sitting next to each other on the floor. Riley had a soft "baby" book about Nemo in his lap and was reading it to Chase who was the most attentive I have ever seen him. There are just no words...

Hello May

Somehow another year has come and gone. Today marks the first day of May, which means I will begin my month-long tribute to all things Riley. He has grown up so much, and I just wish I could stop time... or at least slow it down.

It is astounding to think of what a difference a year makes. Each and every day with a young child seems like an eternity, but each and every year seems to pass in an instant. Last year at this time, Riley was active but not athletic, talking but not completely conversant, silly but not funny, into baseball but not INTO baseball. He may have been anticipating a baby brother, but certainly couldn't have comprehended how much his life would change, and mostly for the better. He had friends, but didn't fully understand what that meant.

Today I turned in the paperwork to register him for school next year. As I was filling it out, I realized that this is the last time I will register him at Foundations at 4-1/2 Street. Next year we will be registering him for kindergarten. Yes, kindergarten. How is that possible? I still remember being with him at the hospital when he was born. I still remember taking him for walks all day long as a baby. I still remember dropping him off for school the first time and how I thought my heart would break. I still remember watching him take his first steps. I still remember the first time he said what we thought was "hey, buddy" but really was "hand buddy" and how he would say it while taking our hands into his and holding on like he never wanted to let go. And I wish he wouldn't, but I know I have to start accepting that he will.

So with that in mind, here's to a month worth of fun stories which will (hopefully) showcase what an amazing little boy he is.

When I Grow Up

In the car on the way to school this morning...

Riley: "Monny, when I grow up, I want to be a Daddy."
Me (interested in where this conversation was headed): "Why do you want to be a Daddy, sweetheart?"
Riley: "Because I want to be a cooker."
Me: "Any other reason you want to be a Daddy?"
Riley: "No. I already TOLD you, I just want to be a cooker."

Attitude aside, it was super sweet and also says a lot about who does the cooking in our family.

Growing Boy

Hard to believe that almost a month has gone by since Chase's teachers called me aside to discuss their concerns about him. I am happy to report that since then, and since we followed his pediatrician's advice and let him "cry it out" for a few nights, Chase has been a MUCH happier, hungrier, active little guy. Although strange to me, it seems possible that re-learning how to soothe himself has made an extraordinary difference.

About 10 days after our meeting with his pediatrician, we were back at the doctor's office getting Chase checked out for pink eye. (As an aside, he had some sort of virus that caused an ear infection and viral pink eye -- who knew there were different types of pink eye -- and he was put on amoxicillin. 8 days later, he broke out in a crazy rash all over his body. Turns out the little guy is allergic to penicillin and it turns out this is not unique on either side of his family -- my mom, sister, nephew and niece are all allergic and so is Casey's dad -- who knew??) Anyway, in those 10 days, he had gained almost an entire pound (which is incredible considering he usually doesn't even gain a full pound in the two months between his well visits). Definitely positive news. His reflux also seems to be under control and he even occasionally will come home from school in the same outfit we dressed him in that morning. I suspect he's just aging out of the reflux issues some, but still find it interesting that the weight gain coincided with all this. Either way, I love tickling his chubby little belly and Riley thinks it's super fun to give him zerberts.

In other positive (I think) news, Chase is trying his hardest to learn how to crawl. At times, he will get frustrated and resort to rolling instead, and truly looks like he is going to dislocate his shoulder because his arm will get pinned behind his back and he'll get stuck laying on it like that until he gets the rest of his body to roll. He can go from a sitting position to a crawling position and can then get himself up onto his hands and knees, but can't quite coordinate the rest of the process and will just rock back and forth on his hands and knees until he gets frustrated and gives up. It is fun to walk into his room in the mornings and find him in his crib on his hands and knees, rocking back and forth, practicing on his own time. He'll look up at you and give you a great big grin. Part of me looks forward to the day when he gets it all together, and part of me is terrified at the thought of TWO mobile, active little guys. How on earth will we keep up with both of them?!?

Another sign that time is flying is the almost arrival of at least three teeth. Much like his brother, it appears that he will get his upper fangs before he gets his front teeth. At least in Riley's case, he got his two bottom teeth first. Poor Chase seems to be getting his two upper fangs and one upper front tooth, but there is nothing to indicate that any bottom teeth are going to make an appearance any time soon. His lack of teeth does not seem to discourage him much from eating -- this kid LOVES food, especially things he can chew on. He will tolerate pureed fruits, veggies and meat (pureed meat??? disgusting if you ask me), but gets absolutely bent out of shape if you stop feeding him puffs, cereal, mashed potatoes or pancakes before he has declared himself done. Teeth would certainly be helpful in this regard -- it seems like more often than not he tries to cram enough pieces of whatever it is he is eating to feed a small army into his mouth at once and gags to the point that it is scary to watch -- and we welcome their arrival (not to mention that it would be nice to not have to hear him whine on and off for a good portion of the day as they try to break through). It will be fun to have him eating what we are, but even so, it is nice to have him as a member at the dinner table now instead of in a swing, bouncy seat or exersaucer on the kitchen floor.

On a totally unrelated note, the dogs seem to have taken a real interest in Chase and love to sit at his feet and gaze in admiration at him during dinnertime.

Bond of Brothers

Since the day he was born, Chase has been completely in love with Riley. If he's upset, all Riley has to do is look at him, and he'll get a huge smile on his face. If Riley talks to him, it's like his whole world is complete. It's funny, it's like Riley understands him in a way that we can't. He always knows just what to say to him. If Chase is crying, he'll tell us why, and the crazy thing is, he's usually right. It's as if he somehow intuitively knows how to differentiate the cries.

The same is true in reverse. After Chase presented him with a Red Sox baseball helmet at the hospital the very first time they met (on the day he was born), Riley has thought he was the coolest thing ever. He loves to talk to him, make faces at him, sing to him. He likes to talk about how he's going to teach Chase how to do this or that and how Chase is getting so big. He loves to show his friends and his teachers and total strangers "his baby". He likes to give him toys and to "share with him". He likes to feed him, to help change his diaper and to put him to bed. He will run all over the house looking for a paci if he thinks Chase needs one, and will sit calmly next to him while he settles down enough to take it.

There is nothing I love more than watching the two of them interact.

Today as we were sitting in the kitchen, Riley eating pancakes on the island and Chase sitting in his carseat on the floor drinking his bottle, Riley looked down at him and Chase gave him a big grin. Riley hopped down from his stool and started talking to him. Chase started making noises back at him. Riley turned to me and said, in his goofy half laugh, "Monny, Chase is so funny." I asked him why and he said, "He's so funny when he talks." We spent the next few minutes talking about how fun it will be when Chase is old enough to talk so that we can understand his words and when he can run and play.

A little while later, as I was packing up Chase's bottles for school, I overheard the two boys "talking" to each other. My heart almost melted when I heard the following: "Chase, you're my best buddy in the whole wide world." And Chase responded with a big grin and a squeal as if to say, "Yup, and you're mine too."

Week of Worry

A week ago today, as I walked into the boys' school to pick them up at the end of a long work day, I was immediately greeted by one of Chase's teachers who had clearly been waiting for me to enter the building. She is normally gone for the day by about 4:00 and it was almost 6:00 by the time I arrived, so I knew something was up and that it was probably serious as soon as she said, "I need to talk to you about Chase." She closed the door to the office and I felt like the walls were closing in. For the next ten minutes, she proceeded to tell me that she and Chase's other teacher had "serious concerns about Chase." I left school with the two boys that night trying to hold it together and pretending like nothing was amiss, but I felt like our little world was coming to an end. I shared the concerns with Casey, who as is typical, did not overreact like I did. At this point, I do not believe he was particularly alarmed. I went to bed feeling slightly better. The next morning, when I got to Chase's class to drop him off, both of his teachers then began talking to me about their concerns. Again they used the words "serious concerns about Chase" what felt like a hundred times. The gist of their concerns, to the extent that I can remember them through my tears and foggy mind, were that every day between 4:00 and 5:00 he would cry inconsolably for an extended period of time and that no matter what they tried to do to bring him out of it, they just could not console him. They felt that he was too old for this sort of behavior. They also mentioned that they thought he had emotional problems -- lack of interest in his friends, lack of enjoyment of a lot of things throughout the day, but mostly just the inconsolable crying. They mentioned "developmental delays". They advised me to call our pediatrician. I left his classroom in tears, certain that my fear that there would be something wrong with Chase (mentioned in a prior post) was becoming horribly true.

I came to work that morning and locked myself in my office. Casey knew immediately that something was wrong because I never have my office door closed. As I explained to him what his teachers had told me, I could see the concern growing in his eyes too. He decided that he would show up to school unannounced at 4:00 that afternoon (Chase's "rough" time of the day) and try to witness the behavior. Upon his arrival, Chase was hanging out quietly in his swing and the report from his teachers was that he had had a very good day. But still, Casey was able to hear his teachers' concerns from them directly, instead of my emotional spin on them. They gave him a similar report, although downplayed it slightly, probably because he had had a good day (he had had a very BAD day the day that I was initially approached). They promised to bring in the reports that they are required to do for each child in their care that they had been accumulating since he started at school at 3 months.

Our pediatrician, after listening to me try to explain his teachers' concerns, indicated that most of what I had described didn't trouble him, but that he thought it would still be a good idea for him to be seen. We set up an appointment for Friday -- an agonizing three days away. That night, doing what no parent should ever do, I scoured the internet trying to diagnose what could possibly be "wrong" with our sweet Chase. I read article after article about autism. Casey and I both started thinking about how Chase used to wake up babbling, and didn't do it anymore. The more I thought about things, the more I convinced myself that he hadn't really talked much period in quite some time. Our fears grew.

The next day Casey and I poured over the reports his teachers had promised us, only to find that there were very few things that even could hint at any sort of developmental delay. But still, there were hints of him talking less, and a sign of autism is regression from things that a child once was able to do. As the week drew on, I'll admit it, Casey and I were both pretty glum. We talked about how much we loved the little guy and how any sort of diagnosis would not change that. Still, the whole scenario was pretty exhausting and neither of us were sleeping particularly well. (As an aside here, I do realize that an autism diagnosis is NOT the end of the world and that plenty of kids on the autism spectrum have completely "normal" and happy lives, but I also do understand that there are limitations and as a parent, it is difficult to contemplate your child facing a life with those limitations.)

I continued to talk to his teachers each day, and would spend an extra 15 minutes or so in his classroom each morning when I dropped him off, trying to get as much information as I could to take to our pediatrician. On Thursday morning, it hit me to ask them about Chase's babbling. When I asked them if he babbled much, they looked almost puzzled and said, "Oh yes, if we put him on the floor with his friends, they'll smile and talk to each other for a long time. He talks plenty." This was the first time I allowed myself to relax some in about 2 days. When I got to work and reported this development to Casey, he too seemed to relax. That night, Valentine's Day night, we had the most amazing night with our two little guys. Chase was in a fantastic mood, his teachers reported that he hadn't had a single "episode" since Monday, Riley ate his dinner without a fight (he has been SUPER picky lately), everyone was happy, and it was just one of those nights that make you really happy to be a parent. We slept a little easier.

Friday morning I took Chase to see his pediatrician, who was kind enough to spend almost 45 minutes with us just observing Chase. He listening to me describe the various issues, reviewed the documentation from Chase's teachers, asked me some questions about sleep patterns, and overall just seemed a bit perplexed. He said, "I usually only get these kind of calls from parents when there kids are about 4 years old, and almost never before they are 2. When I get those calls, I am often not surprised, as I have seen some indications of a problem throughout my time spent with those children during their well visits. I have never seen anything that indicated a problem with Chase and I still don't. He has looked into my eyes throughout this examination, he seems to be interested in what I'm doing, he seems to be right on track if not slightly ahead in his physical development. In short, he looks great."

And then came the "however." And what he said next was like a bombshell. He thought Chase's issues all revolved around his sleeping habits. What?!? The sleeping habits of our baby who was sleeping 10-12 hours straight through the night by 10 weeks? The baby who used to smile when we finally put him in his crib because he was so happy to be going to bed? The one who didn't make a peep after he was in bed until around 8:00 the next morning when he started happily babbling to himself? How could that be?

Then it hit me. Yes, all of those things USED to be true, but he hadn't done any of them in at least a month. He would scream bloody murder when you put him in his crib (we thought it was early separation anxiety). He would wake up countless times every night (surely it was teething) but would fall back to sleep immediately if you put his paci in his mouth. He was restless in bed (no doubt because he was learning new skills like how to sit and crawl). He woke up in the mornings crying instead of happy (well I'd be grumpy too if I hadn't slept well).

The diagnosis? We were babying him too much. Yes, really. He needed a good dose of "crying it out". Hmmm, I guess we never had had to do that with Chase because he had been such a good and easy sleeper. Well, until he started making noises in the middle of the night or babbling in the morning, that is. I had been afraid that he would wake Riley up, so would immediately go into his room when he made any sort of sound to coax him back to sleep. Hmmmm. It seems that my fear of him waking up Riley had turned into Chase loosing the ability to soothe himself, both during the night and as a result, during the day too. He couldn't soothe himself, so he'd get frustrated. He was overtired from not sleeping well at night, so his frustration became uncontrollable. An ugly cycle that was a recipe for disaster.

Following our pediatrician's advise, Friday night we were determined to let him cry it out. I even considered having a slumber part with Riley downstairs so Chase wouldn't wake him up, but Casey talked me out of it (I'm glad he did). The boys slept in their rooms, which are right next to each other, and Chase cried and screamed and carried on for over an hour that night. It was excruciating for Casey and me -- all we wanted to do was rush in and make it better for him, but that's what got us into this mess, so we convinced each other that we were actually doing a GOOD thing by ignorning him (are we bad people???). But you know what? Riley didn't wake up once. After all of my concerns about Chase waking him up with any of his little noises and turning poor Chase into a non-self-soothing, horrible sleeper, it turns out my concerns were completely baseless. Riley, it appears, can sleep through just about anything. And Chase, well, I was afraid that he'd feel awful after that horrible night of crying and I thought he would look at us like, "Why did you abandon me last night?" Not so. I can't remember a day that he has been happier in a REALLY long time. He talked more, smiled more, ate better... it was just odd. Saturday night, he only woke up once and may have cried for 20 minutes, if not less. Another awesome day of a happy, babbling baby who seemed to be making huge strides in his sitting and crawling capabilities almost overnight. Last night, he only cried briefly when we initially put him in his crib and then didn't make a peep until 5:30 this morning. Of course, at 5:30 this morning, I was determined to let him cry it out again, but finally gave up at 6:30 only to discover that the kid was STARVING (which he never is in the morning).

Could the key to his "serious problems" really be something as simple as letting him re-learn how to soothe himself? I guess only time will tell, but right now, it seems to be working and we could not be happier about having our "easy baby" back, even though we hadn't really realized he was missing.

Are we upset with his teachers, you might wonder? No, absolutely not. Although I wish that their concerns had been brought up a bit more delicately ("serious concerns" was alarming to say the least), I am glad they cared enough about Chase to want to figure out what was troubling him. And to their credit, they have spent more one on one time with him in the past week than they probably really have time for in a room with 7 other young babies, but they are commited to making his time at school happier for him. Between that extra love and attention, and their decision to open what I'm sure was an extremely uncomfortable dialogue with us, it seems that we have collectively been able to find a way to give him back his happy disposition. And for that, I am forever grateful.

The moral of this story: parenting is tough. When you think you are doing something for the good of your child(ren), it may turn out that you aren't. You will never do everything "right" and will constantly make mistakes. The important thing is not to never make a mistake, but to learn from it when you do. Kids are pretty resilient, and are absolutely forgiving. As long as you love them, spend real quality time with them and try to do your best, they will be fine, even if it does take someone scaring you to death to make you count your blessings.