Steak-n-Shake

We love that kids eat free at Steak-n-Shake on Saturdays.

Aiden’s birthday party

Last weekend we went to Aiden’s fourth birthday party. Kelli told us that he asked if his “Vietnam family” was coming, meaning his Vietnam friends. (How sweet is that!?)

Aiden and Colin are only about seven weeks apart. This is the first time they “played” together (at that age it was more like Kelli and I just put them in front of each other), back in 2008:

 
 
Happy Birthday, Aiden. We’re glad we are a part of your Vietnam family.

 
 
We were also happy to see Angel and Chloe. We hadn’t seen them since Chloe’s birthday party in January, but she and Zoe were holding hands and playing together almost immediately.

 
 
We saw Duc and Erica, too, but Duc was too busy at the train table to smile for a picture:

 
 

Out of the Mouths: 1999

Noah was watching an episode of “America’s Funniest Home Videos” (his favorite show behind Ninjago) from the 90s.

He said, “Hmm. 1999. Was that the olden days, Mom?”

“My brother’s other sister”

When Jason and Hailey visited us last time, Hailey bought one of those best friends’ necklaces for her and Zoe. Zoe has the “Be Fri” part and Hailey has the “est ends.” Zoe wears hers quite a bit.

One day I was on a field trip with Zoe and her teacher asked her who had the other half. Zoe answered, “My brother’s other sister.” I was kind of glad I was there, because the teacher looked pretty confused. She knows our family, so as soon as I said, “Colin’s biological sister, Hailey,” she understood, but this is much harder to explain to others. There is no easy way to say, “My brother, who was adopted, has a biological half-brother and sister.”

When I had to step in to explain, Zoe gave me a look that said, ”Did I say something wrong?” I told her, “That’s a great way to explain it, Honey. You’re right. She is your brother’s other sister.”

To our kids, it’s perfectly normal to have a “brother’s other sister” and a “brother’s other brother.” Noah sometimes just says, “My brother’s brother.” I’m sure people think he’s one strange little kid. Maybe later they will call them their step-brother and sister, half-brother and sister, or foster brother and sister. None of those would be accurate, but it might be the easiest way for them to say it. Usually at the beginning of the school year I explain it to their teachers in case it comes up in class.

It’s hard for me sometimes, too. There’s just no simple way to put it. Jason and Hailey are coming to visit for about ten days in June, and I’m taking some time off work. I was trying to explain it to someone, but finally just settled on, “We have family coming in from out of town.”

Jason and Hailey have asked me about this, too. Once they said I was kind of like their step-mom. Hailey listed me as an aunt on that Facebook family app.  

I can’t wait for the first “Family Tree” assignment. That should be interesting.

Zoe and Her Hula Girls

I mentioned before that I am sad that Zoe’s buddies will all be going to different schools next year. She has made such good friends in preschool, so I thought it was *adorable* when she brought this home from school the other day.

From left to right, that is Zoe, Maya, Elle, Kelley, and Hannah as “hula girls”. Isn’t it cute how she did all of their different hair colors, and even made Kelley’s curly? I love how accurate she was about it, except for one thing: I think she might have been a bit generous when she gave herself the biggest coconut bra.

A Bag of Children

Christian’s friend Mike moved home from Colorado not too long ago, and our kids are THRILLED. They LOVE Uncle Mike. It is a BIG DEAL when he comes over. When he stays for dinner, there is usually quite the disagreement about who gets to sit next to him.

I have no idea how this started, but one of the things the kids like best about Mike is that he plays the “bag of children” game. As soon as he walks in, the kids are shouting, “Mikey!!!!!  Can you do a bag of me!? PLEEEEEEEEEEASE!!!!”

A bag of Colin:

A bag of Noah and Zoe:

Colin at three (and a half)

This was supposed to be Colin’s three year post, but he’s only four months away from being a four year old now. (I’m just a touch late writing this.) So, this will just have to be his three-and-a-half-year update.

Colin is going to be a heartbreaker. He’s adorable, and he just has that flirty personality that girls love. There’s a little girl at his preschool who anxiously waits for him in the mornings and gives him a big, “HI COLIN!”

He LOVES attention and will do just about anything for it. If he does something that gets a laugh, he will absolutely do it again, so it is definitely my fault that he walks around singing “Sexy and I Know It.” When he sings, “Girl look at that body… I workout!” it cracks me up, especially when he does it in the shower while dancing.

He loves music, and he tends to get stuck on one song for a while. Right now he asks to listen to “Sexy and I Know It” every time we get in the car, and he would listen to it over and over and over if I would let him. Before that he was on a “Pumped Up Kicks” kick.

He is an awesome sleeper (and we are very thankful for that). At night or at nap time, he will often tell us, “I want to go to bed.” We are happy to oblige. He’s been in his big boy bed for a while now, but he still hasn’t realized that he can get out of it at night. He thinks there is some sort of force field around it (and we are very thankful for that) so he will call us or whine in the morning. Sometime Noah gets Colin out of bed for me after naps, so Colin calls for Noah when he wakes up, too.

Even though he stays in his bed, it sounds like there’s a Tasmanian devil in his room most nights. His bedroom wall is against our bedroom wall, and we can hear him kicking or pumping up against it until he falls asleep. He also talks a lot before he falls asleep. Most of the time it just sounds like babbling, but lately he’s been counting to ten, and then counting backwards.

He’s a total backseat driver. He always wants to know which way and where we are going. He recognizes routes. If we are running errands and we take the same road we take to his school, he has to point it out. ‘Mommy, this is the way to my school. You go that way.” He also recognizes “Daddy’s work” whenever we pass Christian’s office building when we are on the highway.

He is about 41 inches tall and weighs 35 pounds. He’s in about the 50th percentile for height and weight. He is a hairy dude. His hair grows fast, and he has a lot of it. Our friend who cuts his hair laughs about how he can grow 70s porkchop sideburns in just a couple of weeks. He has a really hairy back, too. He even has a cowlick in the middle of his back. When we use spray sunscreen on him, it never gets to his skin because it just lays on top of the hair.

His love of Thomas the Train has faded. He’s more into dinosaurs and cars now, and he especially loves making his cars crash. He loves to play bowling and Mario Cart on the Wii.

He definitely loves physical activities – like wrestling, playing chase, and riding bikes. He could potentially be really good at sports. It’s amazing how well he can drop kick a ball in soccer. They have a sports program at his school and they asked me if he’d ever played volleyball before (he has not). Apparently he has the perfect serve, with proper form and everything.

Three year old Colin said he wants to be a dolphin. After talking a little more about it we asked if he wanted to swim with dolphins. He eventually told us that he wants to be the one who feeds the dolphins their fish at the dolphin show at the zoo.

 

Easter

Out of the Mouths: Mom’s Turn

I usually post things my kids say on these “Out of the Mouths” posts, but it’s my turn this time.

I’ll put this on the list of “Things I Never Imagined I Would Have To Say Before I Had Children”: “Get your foot out of your mouth. There is no reason to put your foot in your mouth EVER.”

(I was saying it to Zoe, but I could have been saying it to Colin just as easily since he bites his toenails.)

An oldie but goodie

I was looking through old photos tonight and I can’t believe I had forgotten about the awesomeness of this picture. Check out this amazing little gem from 2009:

For Colin’s prom date

The kids spent the night at Grandma and Grandpa’s the other night and Grandma realized that she didn’t have any pajamas for Colin, so he wore Zoe’s. And, as usual, he hammed it up for pictures!

Noah’s swimming lessons

Noah has been taking swimming lessons for the past several weeks. We had been lucky to find things that all three children could do at the same time until last fall. We’d been able to have them do swimming, gymnastics, and soccer all at once. But that is no more. (sigh)

It started when Zoe wanted to do ballet while the boys did soccer. Now Noah wants to do swimming while Zoe and Colin do gymnastics. Christian and I split up every Saturday morning to take two here and one there. (They will be out of luck if there comes a time when at least two of them can’t agree on an activity.)

Christian had been the one taking Noah to swimming so he could go in the locker room with him, but then Christian started working on Saturdays. I’ve been lucky to recruit Mimi or Grandma to take Colin and Zoe to gymnastics the past couple of weeks and I started taking Noah to swimming. Instead of opting to go in the family locker room with me, Noah has been going in the men’s locker room. After he swims, he showers and changes all by himself. He’s growing up too fast! (sniff)

School photos

Colin had photos taken at his ABA school recently so I was just going to post those, but I’m now thinking I never posted the school photos they all had taken in the fall. I swear I remember posting them, but I’ve searched for them and I get nothin’.

So, here are Noah’s kindergarten picture and Zoe and Colin’s pictures from their preschool. Then the last picture is Colin’s photo from his ABA school, which was taken last month.

(I have no idea why Noah’s hair is combed forward in this photo. I think they give the kids combs while they wait in line. I REALLY wish they had not done that.)

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Noah at six

Noah turned six in January, so I’m a couple of months late in writing about him as a six-year-old. (Colin turned three last July, and I still haven’t written about him as a three-year-old. I really need to take care of that.)

Noah is a good kid. He just is.

He’s all about Legos. He used to have a Lego Hero obsession, but right now it’s Lego Ninjagos. He started with Star Wars Lego kits but he told me not long ago, “Mom, I’m just not into Star Wars toys anymore. I still like the movies, but I’m just not a fan of the toys.” (The phrase “I’m not a fan of _____,” is big right now.)

We’ve never really let the kids have toys in their rooms because we didn’t want them to get up at night to play with them. We’ve kept everything in the play room. We finally had to make Noah keep some Legos in his room so that  1) Zoe and Colin had some space in the play room for their toys, and 2) Noah quit getting upset because someone destroyed his carefully crafted Lego models.

He’s a collector.  I’m always emptying rocks, sticks, acorns, etc out of his pockets. He makes small books almost every day in his class and he has six months worth of them in the drawer of his nightstand. I also found about 25 more in a hidden pocket of his book bag this week.

His latest thing is his key chain collection. It started with an angry bird key chain that he attached to his backpack last fall. He eventually hung so many that the backpack became ridiculously heavy and we had to insist that he not add anymore unless he take some off first.

He takes things to heart, so he is incredibly easy to punish. When he gets in trouble, I can tell him to go to his room until he is ready to apologize. He goes to his room for a minute or two, comes out, and sincerely says, “I’m really sorry, Mommy.”

He’s helpful. He’s usually helpful because he just wants to be, but he can have ulterior motives as well. Last summer he and his cousin “worked” at my uncle’s body shop. They would clean floor mats, sand cars, etc for a couple of hours, and they made $5 each. Noah was flush with cash, and he loved it. He saved up his money to buy Legos. When the summer was over and he couldn’t work anymore (because of the demands of kindergarten), he wanted to know what else he could do to make money. We didn’t always have a “job” for him that was worth a dollar or two, so we started reward charts. They get a sticker for doing certain things, and then they get $1 once they get five stickers. He always wants to know what he can do to earn more stickers, and therefore, more money. Even his kindergarten teacher remarked on how good he was with money when they did their math unit on it.

He’s sweet and he’s caring.  He’s a great big brother. He has watched Colin’s therapists working with him, and he imitates what they do. He will put two Lego Heroes in front of Colin and say, “Which one is the blue Lego, Colin? Point to the blue one.” When Colin does something well, Noah says, “Good job, Buddy! You did it!”

Recently Zoe was upset that she didn’t get to pick what they watched on TV. Noah said, “I’m sorry, Sweetie, but it’s just that it’s my turn. You can pick next time.” He calls her Honey and Sweetie a lot. It’s awesome.

He’s not a perfect big brother though. He does annoy Zoe and Colin occasionally (and also gets annoyed). I know he’s gotten under Zoe’s skin when I hear her scream, “NO-wah!”

He’s smart. I wrote about his last report card here. It’s a good thing he’s smart since he’s missed almost 20 days of school this year between strep throat and tonsils. He just got another report card and he was out for ten days of this grading period because of the tonsils, but it was still awesome! I feel guilty sometimes that Noah was not as prepared for kindergarten as he could have been. I didn’t do flashcards and all of that with him because I was so overwhelmed with Colin’s multiple therapies. Again, it’s a good thing he’s smart. He’s picked up so much, so quickly.

He doesn’t like it when he can’t do something well, and he has a hard time accepting help. At the beginning of the school year, he would get really frustrated when he couldn’t read one of his homework books. He wants to do his homework by himself, without any help. I’ve told him that he doesn’t have a choice, and that I plan to be looking over his homework for years to come, but I’ve also tried to get a little creative. Since Zoe will be starting kindergarten this fall, I ask him if we can all work on it together since she needs to learn how to read. It’s amazing how easy it is to make him review sight words with me when he thinks it’s really for Zoe’s benefit. And, it’s a win-win, since Zoe really does benefit from it. (Sneaky, huh!?)

Noah weighs 55 pounds and I think he’s almost 48 inches tall, so he’s more than 20 pounds heavier and almost six inches taller than his peanut of a sister. It’s really hard to believe they are only ten months apart when then stand next to each other. (That’s more of a comment on Zoe’s size than Noah’s though, because Colin is 19-months younger than Zoe and he weighs two pounds more than she does and is almost as tall.) Noah is only six and he already comes up to my armpit. I’d say there’s a good possibility he’s going to tower over me when he’s 16.  (Poor Zoe asked me when she was going to be as big as Noah. She looked so forlorn when I said, “Probably never, Sweetie.”)

Six-year-old Noah says he wants to work at the grocery store so he can use that cool scanner, but he also says he wants to be an architect and a teacher. I guess we’ll see!

What do you do when your kid’s a crier?

After he had his tonsils out, I wrote that Noah is a wimp. While I still think that’s true, I might not have used those *exact* words if I hadn’t been so tired. Today, I will say that he is “sensitive.”

He has a pretty low pain tolerance, which is what made the tonsils so hard. If he gets even a minor scrape, he really freaks out about it. We’ve talked about “making good choices” when he is injured. Instead of screaming and crying, he can yell, “Darn!” or say, “Man that hurt!” He can jump around and try to shake it off. 

I am trying not to be concerned about it, but I am. Yesterday as I was washing his face, I realized that he had petichiae around his eyes. I asked if he had been crying, and he told me that at recess someone stepped on his hand on the slide. For him to get petichiae, I knew that he had to be SCREAMING HIS HEAD OFF. I told him that while I was certain it hurt, he could have made a better choice about how to handle it. I reminded him what better choices might be.

I was a crier, so maybe that’s why I’m so worried. To this day I still have an aunt that will tell me, “All I had to do was look at you wrong and you burst into tears.” My parents were getting divorced, my dad died when I was seven, we moved a lot, etc, so I’ve always attributed the crying thing to all of the things that were going on in my life – that I was just emotional in general. Noah’s life is pretty stable though, so maybe he just inherited some genetic propensity for crying from me. (I don’t cry at the drop of a hat anymore, but I do cry easily when I am angry, and I hate it.)

I really don’t want to play the “boys don’t cry” card, because I don’t (really) believe that, but I am starting to freak out a little. I’m afraid he’s going to be known as a cry baby or get made fun of if he keeps crying at school like that. I’ve tried telling him that he’ll be done with kindergarten soon, and that he’s almost a “grader” (what he calls the first through fifth graders at his school). I’ve said he needs to try to handle it like a “big kid.”

His new favorite show is America’s Funniest Home Videos. He figured the theme out quickly. When a new clip begins, he almost always says, “Oh, this is not gonna be good.” (He figured out the secondary theme pretty quickly, too. The other thing he says is, “Watch – this guy’s gonna get hit in the crotch.”) The other night as he was laughing hysterically as he watched someone get hurt, sio I asked, “Do you think that hurts the people on this show when things like that happen?”

He said yes, so I asked, “Do they cry when they get hurt?”

He looked at me like a tiny little lightbulb went on, but I can’t be sure.

I’ve tried positive reinforcement, too. The kids have sticker reward charts. When they get five stickers, they get $1. Mostly they get stickers for helping bring in groceries, putting the dog in the kennel, cleaning the play room without being asked, etc, but sometimes we also give stickers for good behavior. When Noah has handled an injury well, I’ve given him a sticker and told him that I was proud of him for making good choices.

So, anyone have other ideas? Do I need to just let it go and let him figure this one out on his own?

iKids

Does this count as spending quality time together?

 

My kid is a wimp and I am tired.

Noah slept through the night last night for the first time in a week. That also means I slept through the night last night for the first time in a week.

This whole tonsil surgery? Not fun. Really, really not fun, especially when the child having said surgery has a VERY LOW pain tolerance. I know I won’t get Mother of the Year when I say this (not that I was ever in the running), and I say it in the most loving way possible, but my kid is kind of a wimp. Seriously. He gets a hangnail and it’s the end of the world. He screams over scratches. It had gotten to the point that Christian and I wondered what he would do if he was ever REALLY hurt.

Well, now we know. If Noah was ever REALLY hurt:

~The pain medication that he is supposed to take every four to six hours will wear off after three.

~He will get nauseous and not be able to keep said pain medication down, which will result in a midnight trip to the emergency room. Since he hates needles, his kind parents will wait and wait and wait for oral anti-nausea medications to work so that he does not have to have an IV, and we will not leave the ER until 4am.

~Several nights in a row, he will wake up in pain and scream, for an HOUR, loudly enough to wake the neighborhood.

~He won’t think I am sympathetic enough during this hour of screaming, and he will start yelling for Daddy, who is sleeping peacefully in the bedroom in the basement.

~If the doctor tells us the recovery time is seven to ten days, it will definitely be ten (or more).

Yes, now we know. God forbid he ever break a bone. I don’t think I would live through it.

Out of the Mouths: “I want strep throat.”

Poor, poor Zoe. She is feeling a little slighted since Noah had his surgery. She’s a bit jealous that Noah has been sleeping in Mom and Dad’s room the past few nights and that he gets to help himself to popsicles, Gatorade, and juice from the fridge.

She was with us when we saw the ENT last week and he recommended surgery. The doctor told Noah that his only job was to go to sleep for a little while and then eat all the ice cream he wanted. Zoe heard this and immediately said, “I want strep throat!”

Colin has caught on and is trying to get in on the action, too. He said, “Mommy, I need to sleep with you because I have a little cough.” He gave two little fake coughs and then said, “See?!”

Tonsils and Adenoids

After having strep six times since September, Noah had his tonsils and adenoids removed Thursday. The final straw was when he tested positive for strep, was put on a strong antibiotic, and then still tested positive ten days later.

Noah has been hospital- and needle-phobic since he was in the hospital with Kawasaki Disease in 2010, so we knew this would not go well. Luckily the doctor agreed to give him a little versed before the surgery, so he never even had to see an IV. Before the versed, he was crying and freaking out. After the versed, he looked like this:

Note that he has his dog, Brownie, with him, as he did in 2010. He told me recently that he is going to take Brownie with him when he goes to college.

While he was in recovery, the doctor came out and told us that Noah had, “the tonsils of an 18-year-old,” which we learned was bad. He told us that in many young kids the tonsils can “almost be peeled out.” He said in Noah’s case there were pockets nasty stuff and a lot of scar tissue. It is never a good thing when the surgeon is impressed.

Noah came back to the room upset. He was crying pretty hard, which made him cough, which made his throat hurt, which made him cry more. He kept saying he wanted his IV out and that he wanted to go home. It was awful. Luckily he didn’t have any nausea and was able to eat a popsicle and some ice chips, and we were able to leave after about an hour and a half.

Once we got home, I really thought (hoped) he would sleep. I mean, the kid had had versed, anesthesia, Demoral (pain), Zofran (nausea), and Lortab liquid (pain), so he should be ready to snooze, right? Nope. Not at all. He only slept for about half an hour that afternoon. He finally went to sleep about 11pm, but then I had to wake him every four hours for pain meds.

We’re on day three now, and we’re told days four and five (Sunday and Monday) should be the worst. That’s when the scabs are nastiest. I’m hoping for lots of this (but I’m not holding my breath):