Nickle Pickle...It's Your Birthday

But, you don't like me to call you Nickel Pickle any more.
Or George.
Or Trash Santa.
Or anything but Nicolas or Nico-Suave (but only sometimes and when I am helping you get ready for the day).
So, dear Nicolas, it is your birthday.
Six years ago you joined our family and made happen what I had worried so hard was impossible.  I never thought I could love a little soul as much as I loved Matthew.  But there you were then, and here you are now, reminding me that love just expands and my heart grows right along with it.
You are kind.
Compassionate.
Sweet and really, truly thoughtful.
You are silly in very purposeful ways and also in ways where my laugh (or daddy's) is so wholly unexpected you get embarrassed.
I don't know any one more honest than you.  But that works out because you see the good and the light in people.
You are a love.
And like to love.  You have crushes and if now is any indication of your future with the ladies--daddy and I are in trouble.
You are so grown up and good (really, really a good kid) I forget you are only just now, today, six years old.  I forget until I see that little boy, head bent over a drawing, sketching ideas for crazy things and having to jump up and act out what your imagination is coming up with in your head.  I forget until I see you take off your shoes, and leave them in the middle of the floor, and all of the sudden they look so small.  I forget until I sneak one last kiss goodnight, long after your lights-out, and you and Turtle are cuddled up, lost among the blankets and stuffed animals and pillows and LEGO's and G.I. Joe tanks.
I love the way you love your family.
The relationship you and Matt have is one I hope you keep up and grow forever.
It's fun to "catch" you being sweet and loving to Em.  I know it is hard to interact with him sometimes, but you find small ways to include him in your play...it makes me so proud.
And I treasure the moments we have, just us, hanging out.  Maybe it is snuggled up in bed before we HAVE to get the day going, maybe it is driving in the car, singing really loud, maybe it is just a quick hug as you pass by me, but they are all so special.
Just like you.
Happy birthday, Nicolas.
I love you a million.

Just My Opinion

I am not usually one to get down on some one for doing what they think is best for their child(ren).
Regardless of how crazy I might think it is.
Your kiddos sleep in your bed?  Not my cup of tea, but cool if it works for you.
Your whole family is vegan?  Awesome, can I have some go-to recipes?
I am the last person to judge.  Heck, I can't keep pants on Nic...that for sure has earned me a few passing judgements.  Emerson wears an amber necklace.  I promise it's not voodoo.
Each person is different and each family functions differently.  We all find what works and follow that to happy harmony--hopefully.
That said, I am going to get real irritated with you for not vaccinating your kid.  And judge you.  And I didn't know I would be that way until recently.
We had a scare this weekend.  Emerson woke up with a rash from head to toe.  It looked suspiciously like measles.  He had a fever, runny nose, and lack of appetite the week or so leading up to the rash.  I had chalked it all up to teething (he is getting molars).  But those symptoms also fit measles.
Em is to young to be fully vaccinated against measles.  And I do vaccinate my children.  On schedule.  I don't feel a need to "justify" this decision any more than to say it's a discussion Andrew and I had when Matt was young, and vaccinating our kiddos on time was what we felt was best for them.
Measles are not a "dead" disease.  They exist, infect, make sick, and kill people all over the world.  157,700 deaths in 2011--the WHO website keeps track of these things, I am not just making it up.  Just because the incidence rate is low here, doesn't mean it is low everywhere.  All it takes is one visit overseas, or visitor from overseas, and you have potential exposure.
So it completely, totally blows my mind that as a parent you would choose to risk exposure rather than vaccinate.  And up until this weekend, I may have, at worst, simply rolled my eyes and moved on.
Until Em got a rash.
And the immediate care doc said "It looks like measles."
Here is my little.  My sweet, tiny guy, potentially with this disease that I am working on getting him immune to (but he won't fully be until 18 months), and I can do nothing to help except watch and pray that it doesn't get bad.
Really. REALLY?!
I have read all the stuff about what is or isn't in vaccines.  I have heard the theories.  I can't dispute them, I am not a scientist.  But I don't take them at face value either.  And if it comes down to my child living vs my child dead...well, obviously I vaccinate.
IF something in that vaccine triggered something in a little body, would I love that little soul any less?  Nope.
I don't really know what my point is.  Other than if you don't vaccinate your child, you are putting them, and mine at risk.  And that's crappy--in my opinion.
Thankfully, Em doesn't have measles (atypical reaction to strep--something antibiotics CAN help).  But it was scary waiting to see if it was truly strep or if it was measles.
And it brought into focus my one exception to my "parent how you want to, I won't judge you" rule.

The Trouble with Soup

This baby likes food.
Fall food.
Not sweet or cold.
This baby likes food for the season.
Leaves change colors and drop.
The wind picks up and it is *almost* chilly out.
Sweaters and boots and bonfires.
Star gazing on clear nights and a kitchen warmed by home cooking.
Chili.  Minestrone.  Butternut squash with sea salt and cumin.
Tastes like happiness.


It's gross outside.
The classroom is hot and sweaty.
Full of overly excited children.
The gym is worse.
I blast the car's air conditioner in my face.
Deep breaths of cold, sweet, chill.
I like cookies.  Apples are ok.
Dinner has not been ok.
The soups.
Thick.  Spoons are hard to eat with.
It smells weird.
Everything tastes like it has beans in it.
She probably put beans in it to try and trick me.
I want sushi.  Ramen Ya or hibachi.
I would settle for musabi.

Rough Day

My heart is pretty heavy today.
There are some things that happen in life that just are heartbreaking.  
A good, sweet friend recently had a miscarriage.  Our due dates would have been close together.
Another friend struggles with trying to decipher her body and her bodies reaction to being pregnant...and why she can't stay pregnant.
Frustrating and sad.  And nothing I can do but pray for peace and maybe answers.
Today one of our Church Ohana lost their baby girl during childbirth.  I am sad for the momma. Broken hearted for her.  And for her husband.  His Facebook updates end with optimism and excitement at seeing his baby girl.  And for their other children who are waiting for a new sister.
Awful.  And nothing to do but pray.

I feel guilty at being joyful about my own pregnancy.  I don't want to talk about it.  Or put anything on Facebook or complain about morning sickness or being  tired all the time.  I don't want my happiness to be hard for anyone else.
And it all makes me sad and feel like a terrible person.

Compare and Contrast...

It is hard not to compare children.
I don't necessarily mean in a bad way, I just mean in a "A did this, B did this, C does this" way.
For example:  as a toddler, Matt only had to be told "no" one time to leave the cabinets alone and (I swear, no exaggerating) he didn't touch them again.  Nic was a little more persistent.  We discovered, though, that if he got his "own" cupboard, with toys and books and whatever else in it, he left the other cabinets alone.  Emerson only stays out of the cabinets now because I have purchased cabinet locks.  For the first time in eight years of parenting, my cabinets have locks on them.
When I just had Matt and Nic, I would often get frustrated that I couldn't do the same ABC things with Nic that I did with Matt.  Or that is was easier to do XYZ with Nic than it was with Matt.  A wise person told me, after I got so sad when I compared the amount of one-on-one time I had gotten to share with one child vs the other, that we cannot treat our children equally and that instead we must treat them uniquely.  Their personalities, abilities, preferences, development--all of that is going to differ (wildly to mildly) with each child.  So I try (key word here) to treat each of my boys as their own person with their own specific needs and abilities.
But like I said, it is hard not to compare.  And I struggle.
Especially when it comes to my "across the board, all of y'all are doing this, no exceptions" stuff.
With the older boys, school, homework, Boy Scouts, and soccer help dictate what that "stuff" is.  But no matter what, we eat dinner together everyday, they have household help expectations, and a solid weekday bedtime (which I reserve the right to bump ahead based on their crankiness).  
I am struggling a little more with Emerson.  Having a regular schedule was always something I was a crazy momma about when the big boys were little.  Waking time, eating times, napping times, and out of the house/errand times followed a rigid schedule.  It worked.  Kids were happy, I was sane (relatively).  Yeah, maybe we missed times we could have had lunch or coffee with friends.  But, dang it, naptime was important at my house.  And you could always tell when a kiddo missed his nap.
Despite my trying, and trying, and trying, Emerson does not have a solid schedule.  Or even any semblance of a nap schedule.  He just refuses to nap some days.  And then the next day naps perfectly, two one-and-a-half to two hour naps.  And then sometimes will only nap in the morning or only the afternoon.  Or maybe he just naps for 45 minutes.  And forget the whole "cry-it-out" business.  Little man will cry the entire time he is in his crib some days if he is that intent on not sleeping.  I never know what kind of day it will be--a no nap, barely nap, half nap, or perfect nap day.  Anytime he doesn't nap well, he is beastly.  It's frustrating.
So, after much internet research (lot's of gems there...or not) I have decided to try something new.  Something neither of the big boys did before age 2--transition to one nap per day.  It will mean a different daily schedule for Emerson (lunch at 10:30?) and an earlier bedtime.  An earlier bedtime sucks because I am going to have to work a little harder at a consistent 5:30 dinner and Andy may not make it home to eat with us.  But, if it means a better schedule for the little and a happier Em, then it will be worth it, right?  I just feel like a crazy person, because part of me says "you never changed like this for Matt or Nic, you can out stubborn Emerson...he's a baby, you are an adult!!" But then if I truly believe you can't treat each child equally, then I need to look at Emerson's unique needs (he needs to take naps lest he become a devil-child around 3:30 in the afternoon) and work with those needs.
Starting tomorrow, we are going to try out this new schedule.  Give it a week, see how it goes.  I am hopeful.  If it doesn't work out, it will be back to the idea board.