Vierjaehrig

Four Years, four years have gone by since I first met my first born. I'd say it went by so fast, in a blink, yes, but that would be an understatement. I'm all of the sudden shocked and sad that next year might be kindergarten and he'll be away from me everyday. I say might, cause he'll just be making the cut off date of Sept. 1st and you know what they say. That boys aren't mature enough, and I really don't want to send him next year if it will be a disadvantage for him. Everyone is telling me how competitive things are in our school district, but I will wait and see what this year unfolds before I decide about that.

Anyway, just a few things about my new four year old.



-He still loves hot wheels, and will spend his "allowance" on them every chance he gets (meaning every trip to target).

-He is VERY particular about clothes now. Will only wear something "cool" and has a strong obsession with "hot pants". Hot pants are basketball shorts. And throws a fit if he has to wear jeans or khaki pants or shorts.

-He still likes to eat the same thing every day.

Breakfast: Yogurt and a bar and something to drink.

Lunch: Crackers and chocolate and cheese.

Dinner: Chicken Nuggets or Mac n Cheese

Now the difference is, I don't make these things everyday, and he's almost flexible about it. He will try new things when required too, but with a fight. But if asked, this is what he'll request.

-He has learned to not tell the truth.

-He still loves sports of all kinds, and can identify at least 5 Phillies players by sight.

-He's still sweet, but sometimes not.

-He stands 41" tall and weighs 37lbs. He's in the 76% for height and 60% in weight.

-He is requesting a baby sister a lot. Only cause "I never had a baby sister before." I say, "Fat chance kid. "

-He can memorize scripture really fast, without me realizing it sometimes. It comes out at times when I need it. I was telling Scott one day I was afraid of something and Q comes out with "The Lord is my helper, I will NOT be afraid." Isaiah something...he learned it in Sunday School one day.

- He's still napping, which is nice, but I've very aware that the day is drawing near that he won't be doing that, and that'll be the day I lose my sanity completely.

-He loves to watch T.V.
-He's afraid of large animals and dogs. He only likes "cute dogs" ones that are smaller than a cat. Ironically, these are the dogs that I dislike the most. Ha!
-He's super cautious still.
-Loves music.
-Wants to be a "trash trucker" when he gets big. (hey, they get paid really well!)
-He loves his own bed. When leaving for a trip to my sisters, he asked if we could take his bed.
-He wants to play the bass when he's older. or the Drums.
-He says the funniest things:
-"I choosed up my mind. "(I made up my mind)
- "I'd like chicken thingers for dinner."
-
(there's more that I will add, but I can't think of many right now)

Overall, I'm as always blessed by God to be given this gift of Q. He keeps me on my toes, and humbles me, but he's a blast, and funny and cute and I'm forever grateful to have him.

Mad. Mad. Mad. Mad!

I never thought I could get mad and stay mad at a cute little blond hair, blue eye, cherub of my own. I am though. And he's only 17 months old, how does one get mad at such a sweet blessing? Sleep deprivation helps anger fester. I was up Monday night several times with Q, and I always have a hard time going back to sleep after that. Then last night, after having an argument with my dearest husband, I finally hit the hay at 1am. somewhere around 2am, Q was up, don't know why. But he gets out of bed and stands in the hallway. I don't know how I hear him, but he just stands there, doesn't knock or call out for me. Sometimes if I don't respond immediately he'll sniff. But he went back to sleep easily. I'm fine with that.
And then the offense occurred/began.
At about 3am, B is crying. I let him cry for at least 20min, it doesn't get any better, so I go investigate. Nothing is wrong, he's just crying. So, in my desire for sleep, I pick him up and rock him some, and attempt to put him back down. He cries for another 30minutes. I go get him again, bring him to bed, cause honestly, I'm so tired, I feel like I could vomit. He's quiet and pretty content in bed with us for a half hour or so, but I can't sleep w/ him there, so I put him back in is crib. More crying, he's a persistent bugger. I leave, I come back, I rub the belly, pat the back, leave, comeback. Finally at 5:30am, Scott's alarm goes off. B is still screaming in his bed. Scott goes to the bathroom and starts the shower. I lose it. Pissed, enraged, that I got an hour sleep, I slam doors, growl at the cutest kid, want to scream in his face to go the f to sleep. Apparently, 3 hours of crying will turn me into an absolute monster. Scott is stunned by my reaction, cause he has no idea of the crying that was going on for hours. And he asks, "why didn't you get me to help you?" Good question. I guess I feel like its my job, and since I hate asking for help in general, I didn't wake him. Whatever. I feel like a child for losing it, feel like I just had a tantrum, and am embarrassed. But still angry. Really angry, cause here's the kicker. After all that screaming, B is his happy little self, not sleepy at all, be-bopping around, poking me in the face as I try to catch some sleep while the t.v. is on. Its like he's rubbing salt in my wound. So stupid, I know. He has no clue.
I'm a little mad at Scott cause he can sleep thru it all. (seriously, for almost 3 hours?). I'm so mad at myself too. Mad at my reaction, mad that I didn't ask for help, mad that I'm mad.
I guess today should be fun. I should decide to be in a good mood, and not grumpy despite the fact that I'm working on a hour's sleep.