For the record.

Hope you weren't expecting some great declaration. This is literally for my records. I can't be expected to hang on to a sheet of paper for the rest of his life, can I?

Calvin's four year stats:

Weight: 37lbs 9oz, 65th percentile
Height: 42 inches, 82nd percentile
Vision: 20/25 in both eyes
BMI: 29

He continues to be a year ahead in all areas except fine motor, where he's on par with kids his age.

For those who have been wondering and/or praying for us (thank you), Calvin's long-awaited eval appointment is next Wednesday. We're not entirely sure what to expect, but we hope this will be a positive first step for us and for him.

Lessons in gifting.

Alternate title: Calvin's Fourth Birthday
Alternate title: Why Spend Money on a Bike When a Free Rubber Snake Will Do?

This is the first year Calvin has been old/interested enough to play with other neighborhood kids. Which is both a good and bad thing (more on that later). But the other kids all have bikes, so we thought his fourth birthday would be the perfect opportunity to purchase the best.gift.ever: a big-kid bike! Who wouldn't love getting a bike for their birthday??

My kid.

Of course.

To be fair, it's not that he didn't love it. I think he does love it...sort of...but he's in this phase where anything he can't do/can't do well frustrates him. And since he's never had a bike before...well, it frustrates him.

Here's the look on his face when he opened his "bike hat."

And when Nate rolled his bike around the corner.

I would describe his reaction to the bike as apprehensive. He liked it, he wanted to do it, but he just wasn't sure. I think his first ride up and down the alley lasted all of five minutes.

And then he asked to go back inside to his snake.

Forget the $$$ bike that Nate spent a couple hours putting together. He preferred the teeny, tiny rubber snake that came inside a bucket of used ocean animals I got for $4 at a consignment sale. (Why was there a rubber snake in a bucket of ocean animals? I don't know! Why was there a DOG in there? Or a hippo? Clearly these people did not invest the same amount of time I did into preparing toys for consignment.)

We told him it was a water snake, because that seemed a kinder, more logical explanation than "some mommies aren't as obsessive/compulsive or as good at organization as your mommy."

Ahem.

I am so happy he had a great birthday and loved his gifts. Even if he loved the ones that erroneously found their way into a stranger's bucket more than those that were lovingly selected and shipped and assembled and hidden away by his parents.

 

 Love my big four year old!

Little fish.

My intention was to sign Calvin up for swimming lessons as soon as possible, which I think is around six months. Three years later I finally got around to doing it. And once he finished that class, I did it again. Go me. Always so on top of things.

Last night was the first time I got to take him to swim, and it was so much fun to watch him. Such a brave kiddo when it comes to the water — he was the first to volunteer for every activity, and kept looking over to make sure I was watching. I even got a thumbs-up mid-dog paddle, because that's safe.

Side note: There was a kid named Calvin in the other swim class. You know how many times we've run into another Calvin in the past four years? Once, at the Minnesota Zoo. Of course this one will probably go to school with him since we were at our neighborhood Y.

Anyway, here are my attempts at capturing his adorableness while sitting on a hard concrete bench alongside a bunch of moms who were not watching much less taking pictures of their kids. I tried to be discreet, but I'm pretty sure it didn't work. Hey, at least I talked myself out of bringing the Nikon.

Waiting.

Yesterday I dropped a big packet of paperwork in the mail.

We had to answer question after question about our child. His health. His verbal skills. His sensory system. His social, self help, gross motor, fine motor, and general development.

His temperament.

444 questions, in total. None of them ours.

So now we wait. Not for answers to our questions, but for a phone call to make an appointment for an evaluation to get us started on a path that we hope will eventually yield answers to our questions and help for our child.

He's healthy, we know that. He's incredibly smart, we know that. He's not showing classic signs of common childhood disorders. We know that.

We also know that he is beautiful and bright and loving and strong and remarkable.

But he's having a really hard time, this precious boy of ours. And so are we.

Your prayers would be appreciated as we wait for answers.

My hope is in you, Lord
All the day long
I won't be shaken by drought or storm
A peace that passes understanding is my song
And I sing
My hope is in you, Lord

Go Tell it on the Mountain.

After much practice at home and at school, Calvin made his second theatrical debut in the Sonshine Learning Center Christmas pageant — this year, as a shepherd. His class sang rousing renditions of Go Tell it on the Mountain, Away in a Manger, and Silent Night.

Preschool is worth the cost, if for no other reason than witnessing this 45 minutes of absolute chaos and total cuteness every Christmas. 

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. Luke 2:8-11

A shared profession.

Last night before bed:

Calvin: Daddy isn't feeling very good, Mama.
Me: No, he's not, sweetie. His tummy hurts.
Calvin, thoughtfully: God can help him.
Me: Yes, he sure can!
Calvin, nodding: He's a nurse, too. 

I really don't know how he pieced that together. His father is a nurse and God is his heavenly father, so fathers = nurses? Or God is a healer and Daddy is a healer so healers = nurses?

Or maybe he just looks up to his Daddy so much that he can't imagine anyone, even God, having a more noble profession.

Either way, it is astonishing to watch the Lord work in my little boy's heart and mind.

Random tidbits from the homefront.

Hi there. Remember me? The one who likes to pop in occasionally with photos and a list of crazy and nothing of real substance?

More of the same to follow. Get excited.

1. I love being home. There, I said it. It goes against everything I've ever thought/said about myself and I'm putting it out there anyway. If I could stay home indefinitely, I would. I would wear yoga pants and sweatshirts and go without makeup and load and unload the dishwasher and washing machine thirty times a day and drive my son to and from school and snuggle my daughter all day long every day if I could.

But, I cannot. So that's depressing. Three and a half weeks to go...I am going to cry. A lot.

2. I have a feeling once I get back to work I will be totally fine, though. Especially if I'm able to implement my Yoga Pants in the Workplace Wednesday idea.

Shouldn't be a problem.

3. So far during my maternity leave I have finished Mad Men (I can't wait for March 25. Can't. Wait.), gotten hooked on The Voice (Adam Levine, you are so fine), found myself simultaneously amused and annoyed by Portlandia, and caught up on a number of girly movies I wanted to see (The Help, I Don't Know How She Does It, Life as We Know It).

4. I also read two books. Yes, two. I really thought I'd do more reading because I spent many a sleepless night plowing through a long list of books while I was home with Calvin, but Audra? She sleeps all night. At eight weeks.

Best. Baby. Ever.

Also, I spend what little time I am up with her at night on Pinterest. Which is probably just as enriching as reading, if you really think about it.

(Please don't.)

5. While on the subject of Pinterest, I'm already thinking ahead to Calvin's third birthday party. Which is either going to be a Toy Story 3 party or an Up party. I am not-so-secretly hoping for Up, as that seems far simpler than Toy Story 3 (i.e. lots of balloons vs. some sort of space ranger/cowboy/daycare center/landfill scenario). I mean, it's Calvin's birthday so he can pick whichever one he prefers, but don't be surprised to find me slipping Up into the DVD player a little more frequently in the months to come.

6. Are movie and tv show titles supposed to be italicized? I've been looking at that the entire time I've been writing this and I still have no idea.

7. Yep, I have a degree in journalism and should know that.

8. Nope, I don't plan to look it up.

9. Do you think it would be worth buying a plane ticket to somewhere cheap so I can eat at the Chick-fil-A going into the Minneapolis St. Paul airport? Cause I kind of do.

10. Two weeks from Saturday Nate and I are going out to celebrate our birthdays. And not just anywhere, but to our favorite restaurant of all time: the 112 Eatery. Heaven on a plate, folks. Or multiple plates, I guess, since we have no self control when we're there. Anyway, we were discussing our mutual excitement last night and I said "Remember how they used to know us because we went there so often?" and Nate said "Well, that will never happen again" and I said "Sure it will...at Panera." And then we both cried a little for all we've lost in having kids.

11. Just kidding.

12. Kind of.

Ugh. See what happens when I'm cooped up in my house all winter long? I start talking crazy about loving food more than my kids. It's probably a good thing I'm going back to work soon.

But no. It's not. Because then I have to leave these sweet faces...and how terrible will that be?






Very, very terrible.

Turns out I love them way more than the 112's stringozzi with lamb sugo. Or steak tartar. Or scallops with oyster mushrooms.

But maybe about the same as the tres leche cake. It's really good.

Dusting.

Santa brought Calvin a sled for Christmas. He undoubtedly assumed that Minnesota would provide the snow.

Because, you know. It's Minnesota. In the dead of winter. We haven't had a brown Christmas in years.

Nope.

Super brown. The brownest, really. Way to go, Minnesota winter.

Luckily the state (kind of) redeemed itself by providing .0001 inches of snow about a week and a half later.

Not nearly enough for an experienced sledder, of course, but even a dusting of snow is still snow to a two-year-old. So off they went with the sled: Dad, G-Pop, and my tiny bundled man.

Turns out, .0001 inches is plenty.

People we love...

...who love our kids!











So thankful for the friends and family (many not pictured) who've helped fill our home, stomachs, and daughter's closet these last few weeks! We love you!

Racket.

I don't think I ever posted this before, but last year Calvin had his first school photo taken.

Yes, that's right. They start school photos at age one now. Who knew? I didn't. Frankly, I was kind of appalled. And I certainly had no plans to purchase them, because that's just plain ridiculous. But that was before I saw this masterpiece:


Crazy hair? Check.
Bruises on side of face? Check.
Scar on his upper lip from falling head-first out of a play house? Check.
Beloved playmate in hand? Check.
One year old sitting on a pile of fake leather-bound volumes? Check.

$50 later, this sucker was mine.

This year, I wondered what kind of hilarity school photos had in store for us. Whenever I take out my camera, Calvin says "NO PICTURES" and runs away. Also, he's even more attached to his bear and its head doesn't look nearly as nice (or clean) as it did a year ago.

Imagine my surprise when I was presented with this truly adorable shot of my two-year-old at photo pick-up last night:


$50 later...

Yes, taking school pictures of children who are not yet school aged and then presenting them to their tired parents at the end of the work day along with a list of insanely inflated prices that are good for ONE DAY ONLY could be considered a bit of a racket.

But darn it's hard to put a price on cute.