Manipulation milestone

Abby asked me for M&Ms this evening. She'd already had plenty so I told her we were done with M&Ms for the night.

I hadn't realized that the bowl of M&Ms were on the counter, easily within reach for Abby.

I turned around and she had grabbed the bowl and was smugly walking toward the living room.

Recognizing my defeat, I told her that she could have one and then we were done.

She sits down on her chair, looks up at me and a big smile spreads across her face.

She says, "I looove you."

Her manipulation development is right on track ... in case anyone was concerned.

I want ...

Abby asked for an apple.

I got an apple out of the fridge and peeled it.

Then I cored it.

Then I sliced it.

I asked Abby if she wanted a Buzz bowl.

Yes, she said.

So I put all of the peeled, cored and sliced apples into the bowl and handed it to her ...

She says, "I want an orange."

A 'boy thing' or just an overprotective Mommy?

This is obviously my first rodeo as a mom, but it's even more so my first rodeo with a boy.

I did not have a brother and have never really been around baby boys until Jack.

Therefore, I have no idea if what I'm seeing with Jack is normal "boy behavior", just his temperament, or I'm a paranoid mother.

I'll let the readers decide.

Abby loves her brother. Loves him. It's so sweet that she actually will say (unprompted), "I love you, Jack!"

She also wants to hug him, kiss him and roughhouse with him.

The latter makes me nervous. He is 6 1/2 months old. She is 2 (and huge).

This evening she was playing with him and there were a few times she got rough with him. I would get stern with her and tell her to stop, fully expecting her force (she had put all her weight on him laying across his stomach; she had inadvertently kneed him in the stomach; she put him in a headlock in an attempt to hug) to make him cry.

But when I would separate them, he would be laughing gleefully, enjoying the playtime and interaction with his sissy.

I'm now wondering if I'm a wuss or if I'm just not accustomed to boys.

I asked Tom and he said, "It's just roughhousing."

Yes, but I didn't "roughhouse" as a girl growing up.

The other amazing thing is the bond between siblings. To be able to witness it as a parent is awesome.

As stated above, she will be physical with him and he loves it. The same thing happens the other way around. She will try to hug him and he will reach for her and grab her hair, keeping it in his clutch. This can't feel good.

But she laughs hysterically, so happy to be with her brother. This floors me considering the girl flips out over the smallest thing (she's two, after all).

I should mention that Abby also flips out when Jack tries to touch her sippy cup, so it's not like he has a free pass.

Our two-year old is masquerading as a kindergartner

I really didn't think I would have to deal with this stuff yet.

My daughter is barely two. She's been two for two months. That is all.

Yet I am already dealing with sibling irritation.

On Saturday I ran upstairs to grab something and heard Abby screaming from the living room.

I run downstairs to hear, "Mooooom! Jack's touching my socks!"

Really? A six-month old is touching your feet.

This leads to me battling practicality. My two-year old does not have any sense of reason. She doesn't care that Jack is an infant. She simply cares that her feet are being infringed upon. She wants her personal space.

Fine.

Jack pretty much reaches and grabs for anything and he is quite resourceful and innovating when it comes to getting from Point A to Point B. I envision Tom Cruise in Mission: Impossible making his way through the lasers. Jack uses a multitude of moves to get to Abby's coloring desk, M&Ms, her Jessie doll, etc.

I thought I had at least a year before I would deal with the pesky little brother thing. Alas, it is already upon me.

Also upon me is my daughter's defiance.

We were sitting at the table eating and she took her fork and started hitting the table forcefully with the metal side.

I told her, "Abby, no!"

She looked at me coyly and then began tapping ever-so-lightly on the table with the fork.

I said, "Abby, I said no."

She responds (as she is still lightly tapping), "I'm not doing it."

Wow.

Just wow.

On this day one year ago

On this day one year ago - the Sunday after Thanksgiving - I went to sleep not knowing the events that would unfold in a few measly hours.

Eleven weeks pregnant with Jack, I was trucking through my first trimester, getting ready to go back to work after spending Thanksgiving weekend at home.

At 12:30 or so, our landline phone rang and it was the type of call you hope you never get. Mom and Dad were at Oakwood hospital - Mom thought Dad had had a stroke.

My sister, her boyfriend and I went to the hospital (Tom had to stay with one-year-old Abby).

The prognosis went from something that could be treated with medication to Dad being airlifted to U-M hospital and given a 10-percent chance to live.

Being in that triage with my parents was one of the most difficult things I've been through. Not knowing if I would see my dad again after leaving him for surgery and being with Mom who knew the same thing was obviously tough.

Ultimately, God blessed us tremendously and Dad survived the surgery and has continued to defy odds.

We saw him push through his therapies and go from being unable to do anything on his own to us being around the dad we've always known.

When we spent our days and evenings in the Cardiovascular Center ICU at U-M hospital, I was absolutely terrified my daughter wouldn't be able to spend time with my dad the way she always had.

But she learned to call him Papa while he wasn't even able to see her (kids are not allowed in CVC ICU) and ultimately re-developed a relationship with him to the point that he's always the first one she "calls" when she's at home.

Visiting Papa in the hospital

I just sit here tonight and my mind walks through the events that occurred one year ago and it seems like another time, but it is also a very distinct period in my life and the lives of my family members.

We lived differently then, going to and from the hospital on a sometimes-daily, sometimes-weekly basis. We now know that hospital inside and out. We've eaten more meals in the cafeteria than we cared to.

My daughter wasn't intimidated by the hospital when she came to visit me after I had Jack because she'd gotten so used to being there.

But life goes back to normal, or you develop a new normal. Instead of things being as they always were they're now how they always are.

What I came to learn from the events that occurred one year ago today is that people are caring at their core. Friends and family came out of the woodwork to help and lend support and people still ask me how my dad is.

You come to realize how precious life is and how quickly it can be ripped away.

You also realize how precious children are.

At only a year old, Abby provided innocence, comic relief, blind love in the midst of a tragedy. In the womb, Jack provided hope.

Days into my dad's stay at the CVC ICU, I was scared having gone through such trauma that I asked to go to Maternal Fetal Medicine to hear my baby's heartbeat for the first time. That is such a wonderful memory for me - the ability to hear my growing baby as my dad fought for his life.

Visiting in the hospital

My sister and my cousin's wife, Benita, were outside the curtain where I had the Doppler performed. As we walked back to CVC ICU, they both said, "It sounded like a boy."

When tragedy strikes, there is that grace period when all wrongs are righted, all hurts are forgiven and all faults are forgotten. Family bands together and becomes one, regardless of anything that has happened in the past.

As healing happens, things return to normal and the dysfunction of everyday life returns. It is bittersweet.

You wish you could always have that unified front, but normalcy is more indicative of well-being.

Grandma and Papa

When I gave birth to Jack, it marked the end of a unique and difficult time in the lives of my family. My pregnancy coincided with my dad's illness and recovery and Jack was the crescendo.

My parents were able to visit me in the recovery room (literally less than an hour after he was born) and hold him and love on him as any grandparents would.

One year later, life continues. Normal for my parents consists of doctor visits and new prognosis. We have a spunky, two-year-old daughter and a sweet, five-and-a-half-month-old son.

The hope is that quality of life for my parents will continue to get better and that Abby and Jack will provide light in the midst of difficult recovery.

Regardless, to think back to one year ago today is to feel incredibly blessed that we are where we are and that we continue to journey together.

It's not the 'terrible twos' ... it's just Abby

Abby is a firecracker ... putting it mildly.

We've had multiple battles with her these past few weeks. We've technically lost each and every battle, but we will not lose the war.

About a week and a half ago, we went to Wiard's. We drove out there before I had to leave for Philadelphia, shelling out the overwhelming up-front cost knowing Abby would have a great time looking for pumpkins, seeing the animals and playing in the park area.

She instead refused to get out of the stroller. We ultimately had to take photos ourselves around the apple orchard and the trip ended up being nothing more than an extremely expensive tantrum.

Then we drove up to Grand Blanc the following week to get family photos taken. I have never had professional photos taken of our kids and was really looking forward to it.

I didn't dress Abby warm enough and she quickly wanted to go home. She said she wanted to go home every .2 seconds. I had to explain to her that I was still going to get photos with Jack, who was (naturally) happy as could be.

We ended up battling her back at the photography studio, but got a few photos with Jack after I had to throw/slide her next to him before she quickly scooted away.

Managing this child is a sport, let me tell you.

Then there was Halloween last night. I had bought her a costume knowing full well she wouldn't wear it, but I hoped I'd be proven wrong. I figured if I didn't at least try to get her into a costume I'd fail as a parent.

Well, she refused to put her costume on, even though it was Jessie from Toy Story. I let her know she was no fun (she wanted to keep her "kitty shirt" on) and proceeded to model the costume myself. Tom and Leia also took turns.

I see all of the positive in this behavior. I foresee a passionate young lady/woman who is loyal and fun. She will have no shortage of personality, that's for sure.

As for us, we'll just keep enjoying the ride and try to waste as little money as possible.

"No, Grandma, I'm eating pizza!"

We were sitting in the kitchen at my parents' house eating pizza.

Mom was talking to Abby about seeing Tom when we got home.

Mom: "Daddy is going to be so excited to see you! He'll say, 'Abby, it's so good to have you home!'"

Abby: "No, Grandma, Abby's eating pizza at the table!"

Also, she later sported the hat to the right.

"CHEEEEEESE!"