Joy to Spare

Yesterday Big Bro had a time-out for "bonking." Bonking is what we call it when our boys attack each other with their heads. The offending head in this case had pushed Little Bro down. After his time-out, Daddy asked him to come back over to Little Bro to apologize and ask forgiveness. Little Bro was sitting on the couch, and Big Bro walked up and said, "I'm sorry, will you forgive me?" This was the first time Little Bro had ever been asked this question, but he seemed to know exactly what it meant, as he leaned forward with his lips puckered, and Big Bro kissed him. Children are so beautiful.

Big Bro (mostly intelligible): "Mommy, what do you think about when you're alone?" Me: (Did he just say what I think he said?) "What do I think about when I'm alone?" Big Bro: "Uh-huh." Me: (Still recovering from the shock of this kind of question out of my 3-year-old's mouth) "Well, I sometimes think about you and Little Bro, and Daddy, Grandma and Grandpa... sometimes I think about if we get a house, what it will be like... what do YOU think about when you're alone, sweetheart?" Big Bro: "Home." Me: "Oh. Home?" (Hmmm. Is he just repeating what I said about a house? Or does he sit and think about his home and everything that means to him?) Big Bro: "Yeah." Me: (Wow. My little boy who normally only wants to talk about Thomas the Tank Engine just initiated a deep, if not fully coherent conversation with me! This is unbelievable!) That evening: Me: (with goosebumps, and almost hyperventilating) "Oh

Okay, so I stole the title from another mommy blog. But for me these days, this little phrase says it all. Daddy bought me a French Press for my birthday, and although I had heard using those can be bad for you because some of the coffee evil is not filtered out, I am hooked. (Apparently, the extra cholesterol left in your mug is usually not too significant.) I've always enjoyed coffee occasionally - when my mom's visiting, there is a huge pot every morning... I help myself at church events... at a coffee shop with a friend (again, usually mom!). But it's never been a regular thing for me. After I had kids - and could have really used the caffeine - I was pregnant or breastfeeding and didn't want to shoot the little guys up all the time. Whenever I did, my oh my, how wired they would get and couldn't sleep, and my cute furry little gizmos turned into gremlins after noon. But for the first time in almost four years, my body is my own again, and I can load it with as

Big Bro turned three today. I used to record all his memorable moments in a journal, but my hand starts to cramp just thinking about writing down all of today's joy. But I can type. I was towelling off when I heard him wake up over the monitor, his munchkin voice singing "Ring around the Rosy." That's how he began his big day. When I went down to get him, I told him Happy Birthday, and he said Happy Birthday right back to me. That's how it went most of the day. Like Merry Christmas or Happy Easter. The sentiments are reciprocal. Why should a birthday be any different? He came upstairs to find balloons, always exciting. Under the balloons were a new roundhouse and turntable for his trains. He was excited and played until we dragged him (not quite kicking and screaming) away for banana pancakes. He savored his breakfast until he almost popped. By the benevolence of the cheap birthday fun gods, Big Bro's birthday was also First-Tuesday-Free-Museum-Day at Balboa P

Big Bro will eat most anything, especially with a bribe. The bribe is usually fruit. If you finish your spinach, you can have strawberries. If you finish your chicken, you can have grapes. It works most of the time. The other day, we bribed him with broccoli. No, really. "May I have more broccoli, please?" "If you finish your rice, you can have broccoli." It's actually quite common for him to be bribed with a vegetable. Sometimes I start to pat myself on the back, as it's so obviously my amazing parenting that has created this healthy-food-loving child. But then I remember Little Bro, and my ego deflates a bit. Little Bro will eat most things, but not willingly. If he had his choice, he would eat only fruit and bread. What he eats has largely to do with how much energy I have for tricking, distracting, and disguising. If I alternate bites of asparagus with bites of cottage cheese, he will eat it. If I distract him while I feed him a bite of turkey, he will e