Today is the day I've been dreading since June. I knew it was coming. I knew there was no way to get around it. I just chose not to think about it. Unfortunately, for about the last week and a half, it's been all I could think about.
Today is the LAST day of summer break.
If you're reading this and you're not a teacher--I understand that you don't get this. But if you are a teacher, I know you GET this. Today is the LAST day before life gets crazy again. Like, really crazy.
I'm almost certain, without even having to look, that I blogged another post about this same topic this time last year. I'm sure it was all mushy about having to go back to school and how much the Mommy part of me was sad.
Looking back, I don't think last year had ANYTHING on this year. This year is rough. I have a feeling I'm going to keep saying this as the years go by and Reilly gets older and older.
Reilly is 2.5. He's like a miniature man. He's SO. MUCH. FUN.
We have spent the last 9 weeks making memories that are going to last forever. These are days that I wouldn't trade for all the money in the world. We have spent time with friends, family and strangers. But some of my favorite times have just been the two of us.
Just a snapshot of our summer days....
We've:
Snuggled. Played play-doh. Pretended to drive Daddy's car. Built with blocks. Rode bikes. Taken walks. Baked treats. Played on the computer. Went to work at school. Taken Daddy lunch. Played to the water park. Visited Indiana Beach. Played on the swings. Swam in the lake. Been to Ohio. Gone to the zoo. Made volcanoes. Visited friends. Sang songs. Mowed the grass. Had picnics. Watched Sprout. Had cookouts.. Visited the animals. Swept the floors. Cleaned the toilets. Went swimming. Gotten boo-boos. Been to the Farmer's Market. Transitioned to a big boy bed. Went potty on the big boy potty. Blew bubbles. Tye-dyed t-shirts. Ran around. Played tag. Watched fireworks. Visited festivals. Danced. Waved to the trash man. Said hello to the mailman. Colored pictures. Went shopping. AND MADE MEMORIES.
My mommy heart hurts this morning. I know it won't be long until we've made the transition to our "normal life." But for today, I'm going to snuggle extra along, sing extra loud, dance extra crazy and love extra hard so that my little man never forgets how much I treasure him .
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Monday, August 13, 2012
Cousins
I have amazing memories of growing up surrounded by family. As kids, we spent A LOT of time at my grandparents house at Bass Lake. We were there practically all summer, and the memories are endless.
I can't even begin to count the hours we logged riding around on the golf cart, 4 wheeler, spending time on the paddle boat, swimming in the pool and eating fudgesicles on the deck.
No matter if we were at the lake, or up at our house...we were always with family it seemed. Cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, sisters, parents...just always had family around.
Every holiday was spent somewhere together. It was awesome.
One of the worst things about growing up is that everyone else grows up too. All of us have started our own families and our own lives fill up our time so we don't get to hang out as often as I would like.
So it's always a very special treat when we all make time to get together and hang out. And super fun now that most of us have spouses and kids of our own. It's unfortunate that they don't know each other as well as we did at their age...but the time we spend together is priceless.
We recently got to hang out my Grandma and Grandpa's house...with lots of cousins. What a fun day it was catching up! Here are just some of the pictures of the next generation playing...
I can't even begin to count the hours we logged riding around on the golf cart, 4 wheeler, spending time on the paddle boat, swimming in the pool and eating fudgesicles on the deck.
No matter if we were at the lake, or up at our house...we were always with family it seemed. Cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, sisters, parents...just always had family around.
Every holiday was spent somewhere together. It was awesome.
One of the worst things about growing up is that everyone else grows up too. All of us have started our own families and our own lives fill up our time so we don't get to hang out as often as I would like.
So it's always a very special treat when we all make time to get together and hang out. And super fun now that most of us have spouses and kids of our own. It's unfortunate that they don't know each other as well as we did at their age...but the time we spend together is priceless.
We recently got to hang out my Grandma and Grandpa's house...with lots of cousins. What a fun day it was catching up! Here are just some of the pictures of the next generation playing...
we should probably be concerned that the two youngest are in control of the golf cart...
Just hangin' out waiting for a ride...
We waited about 45 minutes for a 10 minute parade...
Just some of the crew...
We've got to be careful...these two are just about at the age to start causing some serious trouble together if left unattended.
I love catching up!
I wish I knew what made this huge laugh come out of this little lady! Pure joy!
Awe!
Just playing some ball in G'ma and G'pas' yard!
This is what happens when we put the dad's in charge...
I can only pray they have some of the same memories that I hold so dear in my heart...
Big Boy Bed Business
7 nights ago, something changed in our little house. Something BIG. I'd been anticipating this day for quite a while, but kept coming up with excuses as to why "that" day wasn't a "good" day for it to happen.
Last Sunday, I couldn't come up with any new excuses. I knew "that" day was going to be "the" day.
It was time to say goodbye to the crib and hello to the big boy bed. Any my heart hurt. A. LOT.
We've had the toddler bed in Reilly's room for about 6 months now, but up until then, it was simply a "catch-all" for extra clothes, diaper boxes, toys and of course, where Reilly's life size Elmo slept.
Reilly and I would occasionally snuggle up in there, but when it was time to get serious about sleeping, he would always ask to go into his crib. And I would always put him there.
I did have a reason for hanging on so long. And it was even a pretty good one. Unfortunately, our little man occasionally suffers from night terrors. If you've ever experienced one or seen someone have them, they are HORRIBLE, and you know it. When Reilly would get his, he would often be standing up, screaming, sometimes running from one end of the crib to the other like he was being chased. I knew as long as he was in his crib, he was safe and couldn't get out.
But I also knew it couldn't be my excuse forever.
I tearfully went into his room and got everything out of the crib and read for "demolition day!"
Then I went outside to play with Reilly.
Dave came in and started to take it all apart...I thought I had given him ample time, so I brought Reilly in.
Turns out we were a little too soon.
This is the conversation that followed as soon as Reilly walked into his room to see what Daddy was doing.
R: "What you doin' dad? (with his hand over his mouth?) Where my bed?"
D: "I'm takin' it down so you can sleep in your big boy bed, buddy."
R: (with his hand still on his mouth, which was now super pouty.) "No thank you, daddy."
D: "Yes, buddy, you're such a big boy, you need a big bed."
R: "No, no, no Daddy. You put it back. Now. Please. Pretty Please. Stop doin' that dad. Put my bed back."
And I'm not sure what was said after that...there was way to much crying...from all of us to hear anything.
The first night was hard. Really hard. There were tears. Lots and lots of tears. We put him in bed, and he cried. And cried. And cried. So did I. A. LOT. He never once stepped out of bed, just sat in there and cried for his old bed. I had to go outside. It was horrible.
Monday's nap was perfect. He climbed right in and fell right to sleep! There was hope yet!
The second night made the first night seem like paradise. We put him in bed, he immediately popped out and started knocking on the door. (We still can't figure out why he doesn't just open it. He knows how, and does it all the time during the day!) The noise coming from his bedroom was way worse than crying. It was screaming. Anger. Madness. Frustration. Sadness. Loneliness. Agony. Ugh. I sat outside and cried right along with him. He was at the door, sticking his toes underneath, saying things like... "Mom, open door! I stuck in here. You see my toes? Open door. Dad, come get me! I be good boy. I love you. Please. Pretty please." Horrible.
I didn't cave. I never opened the door.
Dave did. He couldn't take it anymore. So we made popcorn and snuggled on the couch. What else could we do???
After about 45 minutes, we put him back to bed, and with a little more whining, he quickly fell asleep.
Tuesday night--he did great.
Wednesday night--he did awesome.
Thursday night--Superstar!
Friday night--Summer cold strikes...we were up 3 times, and ended up sleeping on the couch, but I still maintain it had nothing to do with the big boy bed!
Saturday night--he couldn't have put up a fight even if he tried--he was exhausted.
Sunday night--champ!
Once he falls asleep, he has yet to climb out of bed and leave his room. Even when he gets up in the morning, he calls me from his bed to tell me he's awake on his new bed.
I know he still misses his crib. I know this because we have to go downstairs every morning to make sure it's there and kiss it hello.
I love this "Big-boy-bed" kid!
Last Sunday, I couldn't come up with any new excuses. I knew "that" day was going to be "the" day.
It was time to say goodbye to the crib and hello to the big boy bed. Any my heart hurt. A. LOT.
We've had the toddler bed in Reilly's room for about 6 months now, but up until then, it was simply a "catch-all" for extra clothes, diaper boxes, toys and of course, where Reilly's life size Elmo slept.
Reilly and I would occasionally snuggle up in there, but when it was time to get serious about sleeping, he would always ask to go into his crib. And I would always put him there.
I did have a reason for hanging on so long. And it was even a pretty good one. Unfortunately, our little man occasionally suffers from night terrors. If you've ever experienced one or seen someone have them, they are HORRIBLE, and you know it. When Reilly would get his, he would often be standing up, screaming, sometimes running from one end of the crib to the other like he was being chased. I knew as long as he was in his crib, he was safe and couldn't get out.
But I also knew it couldn't be my excuse forever.
I tearfully went into his room and got everything out of the crib and read for "demolition day!"
Then I went outside to play with Reilly.
Dave came in and started to take it all apart...I thought I had given him ample time, so I brought Reilly in.
Turns out we were a little too soon.
This is the conversation that followed as soon as Reilly walked into his room to see what Daddy was doing.
R: "What you doin' dad? (with his hand over his mouth?) Where my bed?"
D: "I'm takin' it down so you can sleep in your big boy bed, buddy."
R: (with his hand still on his mouth, which was now super pouty.) "No thank you, daddy."
D: "Yes, buddy, you're such a big boy, you need a big bed."
R: "No, no, no Daddy. You put it back. Now. Please. Pretty Please. Stop doin' that dad. Put my bed back."
And I'm not sure what was said after that...there was way to much crying...from all of us to hear anything.
The first night was hard. Really hard. There were tears. Lots and lots of tears. We put him in bed, and he cried. And cried. And cried. So did I. A. LOT. He never once stepped out of bed, just sat in there and cried for his old bed. I had to go outside. It was horrible.
Monday's nap was perfect. He climbed right in and fell right to sleep! There was hope yet!
The second night made the first night seem like paradise. We put him in bed, he immediately popped out and started knocking on the door. (We still can't figure out why he doesn't just open it. He knows how, and does it all the time during the day!) The noise coming from his bedroom was way worse than crying. It was screaming. Anger. Madness. Frustration. Sadness. Loneliness. Agony. Ugh. I sat outside and cried right along with him. He was at the door, sticking his toes underneath, saying things like... "Mom, open door! I stuck in here. You see my toes? Open door. Dad, come get me! I be good boy. I love you. Please. Pretty please." Horrible.
I didn't cave. I never opened the door.
Dave did. He couldn't take it anymore. So we made popcorn and snuggled on the couch. What else could we do???
After about 45 minutes, we put him back to bed, and with a little more whining, he quickly fell asleep.
Tuesday night--he did great.
Wednesday night--he did awesome.
Thursday night--Superstar!
Friday night--Summer cold strikes...we were up 3 times, and ended up sleeping on the couch, but I still maintain it had nothing to do with the big boy bed!
Saturday night--he couldn't have put up a fight even if he tried--he was exhausted.
Sunday night--champ!
Once he falls asleep, he has yet to climb out of bed and leave his room. Even when he gets up in the morning, he calls me from his bed to tell me he's awake on his new bed.
I know he still misses his crib. I know this because we have to go downstairs every morning to make sure it's there and kiss it hello.
I love this "Big-boy-bed" kid!
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