Dean-O vs. Bugzilla

Faithful Dean-dog confronts a puzzling yet entertaining cicada...

Terrible Twos..

We all gathered in Spartanburg to celebrate my darling baby girl's Second Birthday, whereupon we were beset on all sides by pink and purple princess paraphenalia. Caroline was in top form, pursing her lips and grinning coyly, handing out hugs and kisses with cheerful abandon, and generally playing the part of royalty. Which she seemed to enjoy immensely. A crown, a pocketbook full of makeup and a cell phone, a cash register for imaginary shopping, clothes and dolls and books and cake - what else could a little girl ask for?

I keep looking at this picture of her, with her "I am Two" t-shirt and her purse, and her remarkable little smile, stealing ice out of someone's glass while I snap another photo. I really have to grin because I feel like I can start to see the young lady she is going to become. A little bit of sass with a sparkly-eyed grin, excitement bubbling over the "I've got this under control" demeanor.

I suppose it is cute right now how excited she is about becoming a big girl, but I am pretty sure I am not fully prepared for all that is to come. I know they say that two-year olds are terrible, but I right now I think that the terrified one is me..

 

What happens to monkey grass when no one is watching the kids....

For The Record

This has more or less become our baby book of sorts, as we keep track of the coming and growings of each of three precious young'uns. We've still got the hard copy, what with the locks of hair and the pre-formatted questionnaires. But when we look back over the life we've charted, we keep coming back to this blog, and it really does capture a lot of what we've lived through the last 3 or so years. We need to be blogging more, and have gotten a little off track of late, so here is a post of what everyone is up to, just for the record:

Jack a/k/a Jackson David Shaw a/k/a Baby Captain:

This guy is just getting bigger and older and more incredible by the day. Looking back at videos tonight from 2010, it is amazing how much he has matured. He has taken on the role of big brother (for both Caroline and Sam) with a seriousness that belies his tender-hearted nature. Right now, he is 100% into imaginary play, dreaming up elaborate scenarios at every turn, mostly involving friends from school, alligators, sharks, lava, and his Carolina Blue office that he painted in "35 minutes, front and back,"
 where he likes to go work to "make money" and/or "get ice cream."

He is still snuggly and affectionate, and has latched onto the automatic gratification associated with saying things like "you have beautiful hair today, Mommy" and "I like your pretty eyes!" He also has a little bit of an attitude, but is mainly limited to saying "Fine" and "You're not my best friend anymore." He will also parrot any complete sentence he hears from anyone that might possibly be construed as clever, funny, or naughty.

Caroline a/k/a Princess a/k/a Sissy:

This little girl has become the most affectionate fireball you could imagine, alternating frequently from body-slams to ear-holding two-cheeked Euro-style kisses (which Dean particularly enjoys). Her most recent acquisition is the favorite color of PurplePink (or sometimes (PinkPurple). She also has begun to self-identify as a Princess, and as he language skills have blossomed in the last month or so, her ominous brow ridge and accompanying frown have retreated significantly.

Still, it is clear that curiosity will one day kill the cat (Meeeee-ooowwwww), and Caroline is a archetype of that mantra. If it is hot, wired, submerged, or fanged, Caroline wants to touch it. Hug it. Pinch its ears. So far, the only things that have fazed her are Cows and Flies, both of which she appears to be deathly afraid of. Seriously - one encounter with the guy in the cow costume at Chik-fil-A on Friday, and we have heard no less than 1000 times this weekend: "No cows, afraid of cows. I'm a princess." Even Superman had Kryptonite, I guess.


Samuel a/k/a Baby Sam a/k/a Winston a/k/a Piglet:

A sweeter happier baby was never born. As much as we love the other two (now) this one's manners at 3 months are above reproach. He eats well, sleeps well, smiles sweetly on cue, gurgles and coos with reckless pleasure. Once he starts doing more than just lay there and smile, we'll let you know!

Our current favorite phrases (with translations)

Jackson:
"I missed you today, Mommy."
"I need to go to my office that I painted Carolina Blue and work."
"Fine, you're not my best friend anymore."
"Come sit with me, you're my best friend now."

Caroline:
"Whas dat right dehr?" = What is that right there?
"Pink one, Purple one" = My favorite colors are pink and purple
"I princess. No cows." = I'm a princess and because of that, I request all cows be banished. I am very scared of cows.
"Boo, Daddy"

Sam:
Well, he isn't talking obviously except for insane amounts of happy babbling and laughter.  This kid is an angel baby.

And, just for the record, we are now very used to (and happy with) having three kids. There is never a dull (or quiet) moment around here.

Our newest thumbsucker

Way to go, Sam!

The funny papers

Jackson read the funny papers (upside down) for 30 minutes today. Strangely, he managed to discern most of what was happening in them.

Butterfly, flutter by

#PandoraFail #I'mGettingOld

Thank you @Pandora for dropping an Adam&Eve advert in between Duane Allman's "Melissa" & "Long Cool Woman (In A Black Dress) by the Hollies

— Stephen F Shaw (@stephenfshaw) May 2, 2012

2/2 My toddlers in the back seat enjoyed the busty blonde in the teddy & the very breathless voice-over #PandoraFail #SwitchingToGoogleMusic

— Stephen F Shaw (@stephenfshaw) May 2, 2012

Five Alive

Matilda and I have thoroughly been enjoying the newest member of our family since his arrival last Wednesday. We were fortunate to have a few days alone with him as his siblings were very excited to spend the weekend with their grandparents in South Carolina. Going from two toddlers back to a single, tiny, sleepy infant has been infinitely more enjoyable than the initial arrival of our first child. So much so that up until today, I was seriously contemplating when Shaw baby #4 would be arriving. And then, we picked up the kids from the grandparents....

The reunion was most definitely the sweetest one we've ever had. Jack is about the best greeter in the entire world. He absolutely lit up when our car pulled into the parking lot and ran over, jumping into my arms, like a perfectly directed movie scene. His Forest Gump wave and suffocating hug were priceless. And when I woke Caroline up from her carseat with a kiss on the nose, she fluttered her eyes, smiled her sweetest toothy grin, and said "Hi, Mommy." There were hugs and snuggles and laughter and let-me-tell-you-abouts all around. It was birds-chirping, rainbow-making wonderful.

 And then we had to load up to head home.

Sam decided that was when he wanted to nurse. Caroline decided she both did not want to get out of my lap to make room for Sam nor did she have any interest in getting back into her carseat to ride home. And Jack decided that doing laps around the back of the minivan Jeff Gordon-style with his new bulldozer was the best way to break it in. Not three minutes out of the parking lot and I could barely hear Jack in the way-back singing some marching song ("Hup-two-three-four" repeated seventeen jazillion times) because his siblings were battling to see who could wail louder without passing out. I have never had a panic attack but, in that moment, I probably came as close as I ever have before.

We had to stop for food since Caroline was morphing into a Charlie Sheen-No Snickers-Diva, and Sam started to grow scales Gremlin-style. Let me tell you, if you haven't ever tried to feed a 3 year old, 1 year old, and breast-fed 5 day old in a fast food restaurant during a busy lunch hour then you just aren't living. It was like juggling flaming bags of poop with one hand, which is to say challenging, smelly, sweaty, and very close to a lawsuit on some level.

The ensuing hour long drive after lunch was filled with the Who-can-use-their-loudest-outdoor-voice game, Who-can-say-"Mommy"-more-than-a-million-times game, and the Who-can-bean-the-baby-on-the-nose-with-their-lovey game only to end with all parties, save the parents, falling asleep within 5 miles of home. Waking said parties and convincing them to go inside to nap in their beds was both rejected and disdained.

I won't even begin to describe dinner because, well, I'm trying to forget it as I start to hyperventilate when I remember that it comes every day from here on out. Bathtime....nobody drowned so that was a success. Beaten, deflated, and exhausted, Matilda and I collapsed onto the floor for the 10-15 minutes of playtime before storytime before bedtime and that is when God threw me a rope. Sam woke up and sat happily in his bouncer, contented to watch as Jack and Caroline played around him. Periodically, though, both would go over to him and include him in their game in a much kinder and sweeter way than I ever would have thought they could do. Jack would vroom his bulldozer around the bouncer and then very gently place it in Sam's lap for him to play with while he went to get another toy. Caroline would kiss his nose and state proudly between body-slamming her father and brother, "Baby Sam...mine!" And then, before I realized it, all three of my children were asleep in their beds.

I am still rather terrified of the morning when all three will be recharged and ready for another go at their parents' sanity. But, I can't help but feel overwhelmingly blessed by how pleasantly full (and thankfully momentarily quiet) our little starter home feels now.

From man-on-man to zone...and then there were five - wish us luck.

Welcome home, Samuel James

Look what the Easter Bunny brought us:

Welcome Samuel James, born quickly and easily on Wednesday March 28th 2012 at 9:42pm, and weighing in as our largest baby at 6lbs 8oz and 19.5in long.

And then there were Five...

Clever Girl

I noticed this past weekend that Caroline is a quick learner. I don't mean in the book-smart sort of way, although I am sure she will demonstrate high levels of natural intelligence and will work hard at her studies (a trait she no doubt inherited only from her mother).

At this point, however, she shows skills of a more primordial nature. My darling daughter is quick on her feet, and she readily adapts to every challenge or obstacle. Sure, faithful readership, I am sure you've had the same flattering thought about your own scion. But these traits that Caroline readily exhibits are more apropos to a humanoid AI robot, or the Ebola virus, or a genetically engineered Cretaceous-era therapod.

Upon realizing that dear brother Jack got a jellybean for successful potty performance, she promptly sat down and cleared her bowels. But a mere jellybean was not enough. In the days that passed, Caroline learned to mete out her minute bladder capacity over several discrete trips to the "paddah." We are presently out of Jelly Bellys, but fortunately we have enough toothpaste.

I am not sure where we are going to go from here. I imagine the next twenty years or so will be something akin to Robert Earl Keen's classic description of bull-riding:

"I used to be in rodeo, believe it or not - I had a rodeo career that lasted 15 seconds. That's five bulls times three seconds a piece. It was a fun career -  I don't know how many people have ever been on the back of a bull before - it's kind of like getting in your car and driving down the freeway at 70 miles an hour, and then just chunking the steering wheel out of the window."

Giddy-up.

 

Shaw bellies

It's a family affair.

Valentines Day from Room 151

Room 151 at Women's Hospital.  That was my home for the last week and a half.  With a large imposing sign on the door that read "Contact Precautions" in large letters with gowns and masks and gloves conveniently hanging on it, it might as well have read "Caution, leprosy ahead. Avoid if possible."  Not the sexiest way to spend my favorite of holidays, hooked to monitors and IV poles and  leg squeezers, I spent most of the afternoon getting back-to-back 1 hour antibiotic retention enemas.  I just didn't, and honestly couldn't, appreciate the balloons and flowers and cards from my sweet husband and mother and children, nor could I enjoy the very kind steak dinner for two  personally delivered by the hospital chef that evening.

I know most people could do without Valentine's Day, with the biggest argument by non-believers being that "every day should be a day to show love."  Well, one could say the same about Independence Day or Thanksgiving. We should be patriotic and thankful for our freedom every day, shooting fireworks and eating ferocious amounts of sweet potato pie with family all the time. We should reveal in the spirit of Christmas and honor our veterans and celebrate trees and secretaries constantly. But it just isn't realistic to be grateful and perky and romantic and nationalistic all the time.  That's why holidays exist. To provide contrast points to the daily happenings of work and laundry and chores.  To help us appreciate the Kairos amongst all the Chronos.

Valentines Day is no different than all the rest, except in my opinion, it is arguably the best.  There are no rules for it.  No specific menus that need be prepared, no extended house guest obligations, no fuss over remembering to gift to every single person you come in contact with.  The only purpose of the entire day is to show love and be grateful for that which comes back to you. It has been commercialized with flowers and candies and chocolates, which are just Hallmarks way of making it easier for us, but it doesn't have to be that at all to be perfect.

It has been my favorite holiday for as long as I can remember because of my parents.  My mother always helped me make personalized gifts for my friends.  My favorite was the year of the Squeezums. I was so proud to pass them out to all my friends after spending nights with my mother making and filling each one.  My father never ever forgot Valentines Day, either.  There was always a basket or stuffed animal or flowers hidden somewhere for me to find. So, I learned very early it not just about that one special person but rather all the special persons that depend and reflect your love.  Doing the thing that speaks directly to the heart of someone, be it gifts or quality time or words, is what the day is all about.

So, obviously, I am rather bummed I missed this year. Not because my family and friends didn't show me their love, far from it.  I was showered, and am still being showered, with more kindness and adoration than I know how to accept.  It is more that I missed out on showing it to them. I know I could declare Feb 22nd as make-up Valentines but it just isn't the same.  Just like moving Christmas morning, there is power in the collective recognition of a single day.  And, frankly, my body is still reeling from the 10 days of being surrounded by the space-suited government workers in the ET movie and isn't quite up to celebrating just yet.

So, dear friends and family, please accept my apologies this year.  I hope you had a wonderful, love-filled day and I promise to make an epic comeback next year.

Much love and affection.
~Doc

Our Dear Caroline

I just don't know what to make of our daughter. There are moments - like when she grabs my ears in both hands, grins a foolish chubby grin, and lays a toothy kiss on my cheek like she is part-lamprey - that just warm my heart. Honestly, even though these kisses last an uncomfortable 30-45 seconds in duration, you just can't help but smile at her eagerness. Walk in to school at the end of the day, and she will drop what she is doing, break into Da-da da-da da-da song and hurtle across the room - until she gets about 3 feet away, when she suddenly and inexplicable does an about face and goes to put her toys up. It is kind of infuriating.

We call her The Honey Badger, because really, she just doesn't give a shit. I promise, we say that with only with the finest parental pride and love, and some measure of admiration mixed with exasperation. Everyone looks at us with a "do you hate your daughter?" expression. Even Bud and Nana, who I am sure experienced her wrath during a recent 5 day stint in Juvie (i.e. Camp Sparty) are still begrudgingly in denial of her mean side.

Take tonight, for instance. After throwing a series of fits at the dinner table, she took the long walk for a short sit in timeout. I went back to check on her and found her reading to herself, the "Peek A Boo" book. One page has a mirror (Peek a You!) and you can see her look at herself in that. Another page has a cow (Peek a Moo!) and she lets out a low Mooooo. And the train page (you guessed it - Peek a Choo Choo!). Here, she mimics her brother's spot on copy of the Polar Express' "All Aboard!. Priceless. And then, the Honey Badger spies her tormenter....