Wednesday, May 28, 2008
When Bugga gives kisses, he makes the fishy face as his pucker. I love it. And sometimes he thinks that just making the face is giving a kiss, not actually making contact with anything.
Bugga likes to use sign language for certain words even though he knows how to verbalize them. He'll say "more" and "please" with his hands. That's it. Nothing else.
Bugga pronounces thank you, "ank ya."
Bugga is always handing me things and saying, "Heee go" (here you go).
Bugga seems to think that the garbage can is a garbage truck and he pronounces garbage truck, "gabeh juck." He's always telling me to put bugs and other "ewy" things in the "gabeh juck."
Bugga says "yeah" with his whole body - head bobbing, torso bouncing. I love it. It's the greatest! He's so expressive.
Buddha likes to teach Bugga words. I'll hear him from another part of the house saying, "Bugga, can you say 'down truck' or 'cars?'" And the other morning he came bursting into my room (nice way to wake up, eh?) and announced that Bugga had said, "sorry." He was very excited. I could just imagine him in the crib with Bugga, getting pummeled and then teaching Bugga to say "sorry." Buddha is such a great big brother.
Tonight we took our walk at the high school track and we brought Buddha's bike for him to cruise around on. Near the end of our walk, The Chief encouraged me to sprint 100 yards, just for old time's sake. I told him it would probably make me puke, but agreed to try anyway. I took off down the track and flopped on the ground at the finish line. Then I hear Buddha yelling at me and I lift my head off the ground, look down the track, and see this little body hurtling toward me at top speed. He had gotten off his bike to run with Mommy. He was so proud of running with me and it was so cute to watch his little legs pumping. When he reached the number marking his lane at the end, he yelled, "SCORE!" (We had been saying this every time we strolled/walked/biked over the numbers as we walked around the track). We rounded another curve and then it was The Chief's turn to test his speed. He and Buddha stepped up to the starting line and took off when I yelled "Go!" Bugga started squirming and wanted to get out and run, too. He kept saying in this distressed little voice, "wun, wun!" So, I let him out and he took off down the track with his hoodie-covered head, his swishing sweat pants, and his bare little feet pittering and pattering their way toward the finish line (and red soles). He started out running toward The Chief, but then he veered toward Buddha. Buddha put his arms out, Bugga put his arms up, and Bugga ran into Buddha's outstretched arms where he was warmly embraced and patted on the back for his accomplishment. I wish I would have had my camera with me. That is a moment I hope I'll never forget. It was so sweet and reminded me that despite all the fights, power struggles and tantrums, my boys really do love each other and enjoy each other's company.
Incidentally, I did feel like puking for a while after my pathetic attempt at a sprint. Nothing like a slow 100 yards to remind you that you're not in your prime anymore.
Here's a video of me trying to get Bugga to say "Ewww" and "Die" over a bug. Excuse my loss of patience with Buddha at the end. It had been one of those days. Oh, and Buddha was right, it wasn't a bug, but I was trying to improvise. It didn't elicit as strong a response as normal from Bugga. He seemed skeptical, but it did the job.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
"Heavenly Father....Dad, do we say 'dear?' Dear starts with D."
At this point Buddha started pointing things out for The Chief, like Mommy and Bugga, and The Chief would thank Heavenly Father for the indicated item/person. Then Buddha started to verbally prompt The Chief, waiting after each phrase for The Chief to repeat after him:
"We thank Thee for snacks. We thank Thee for milk. We thank Thee for juice. We thank Thee for water. We thank Thee for pizza and quesadillas and cheese. We thank Thee for Sharkies. We thank Thee for shakes. We thank Thee for macaroni and cheese and rice. We thank Thee for movies (The Chief repeated, 'We thank Thee for wholesome movies' and Buddha said, 'No, Dad, they're just movies.'). We thank Thee for the little toy house and the orange car and the red car and the open car. We thank Thee for the slides and the little slides. We thank Thee for the animals up there (pointing at the stuffed animals on the shelf above his bed). We thank Thee for the stars on the wall and the yellow star too." And then he muttered quickly, "In the name of Jesus Christ, amen."
I thanked Buddha for reminding us that we really do have so much to be grateful for.
Bugga's spotlight moment:
I've been meaning to write these things about Bugga for so long, but I just can't seem to get around to it. Bugga has the cutest personality. He is so lovable and hugable and I just can't get enough of him. He does this thing where if he's done something commendable and you praise him for it, he gets this look on his face that says he is just pleased as punch and he swings his arms back and forth like he doesn't know what to do with the praise, as if "it ain't no big thang." It cracks me up. You can read him like an open book. Bugga also has a Brooklyn accent. He doesn't pronounce R's the way you and I do. He pronounces them as E's. Here are some examples: more is moee, door is dooee, water is wahee. It even affects the way he says his own name. I love it. He's such a good talker now and communicates fairly well. He and I have these hilarious seesaw disagreements at night when it's time for bed. I still nurse him sometimes, but it's erratic. However, he'll use nursing to stall his bedtime so sometimes I'll sit down with him in the rocking chair and he'll immediately poke my chest and say, "moke (milk)." Then I say, "no." And the rest of the conversation proceeds as follows:
And so on. This goes on until we're both laughing and I'm tickling him and I've completely forgotten about getting him settled down for bed. :) Buddha usually just watches us like we're crazy or falls asleep during our little routine. Sometimes, if I don't play too long with Bugga and I just put him in his bed, he'll cry and carry on like he's been trapped in a cold dungeon with inadequate food and monster neighbors. Then I'll hear Buddha saying, "Shhh, shhh, shhh." And he'll talk to Bugga and quiet him down. It's so sweet.
When Bugga spots bugs, he'll point at them and yell, "Ew, ew, ew, ewwww, ew, ew ew, ewwww!" He'll do this until I acknowledge his find. And then when I kill the bug, Bugga will say, "DIE!" in this really gravelly, dark voice. It's hilarious. I guess "die" is what I say when I kill bugs and he picked up on it and personalized it.
Bugga is a passionate young man. If he doesn't get something that he really wants, he'll scream and yell. But he brings this same passion to everything, cuddling included. He plays hard, loves hard, runs hard, hits hard, and, thankfully, sleeps hard.
Bugga is now 18 months and has graduated from roaming the halls with The Chief at church to playing with other kids his age in the Nursery. Sniff, sniff. Actually, this advancement has been much-anticipated...mostly by The Chief since he always takes Bugga so I can fulfill my Primary duties. My little man is growing up!
I just love my boys so much. Today we made brownies together, with the boys lifted up to counter height by squeaky, old chairs. Buddha wanted to do everything himself, but I'm still a bit of a control freak, so we compromised and helped each other out. I told him that he could make some brownies all by himself soon. He really was an eager and willing helper. Then we all cleaned up together and after the dishes had been washed, I left the boys playing at the sink together for a few minutes. They had a blast pretending to be all grown up. By the time they were finished, Bugga was soaked all down his front. When Daddy came home, we drank our power shake and took off for the park to walk (stroll, really, since we're trying not to push it while we're sick). We ended up letting the boys out of the strollers and they pushed them all over the park. It was a blast. Buddha had a meltdown when it was time to go, of course, but we had succeeded in wearing them out for bed, so it was totally worth it. Today was a good day.
P.S. Somewhere in all the hubbub of the past few weeks, I forgot to mention that my awesome husband got me a Bosch mixer and blender combo for our anniversary. I am so thrilled with it! It is amazing. I can make five loaves of bread at one time!!! That's 12-13 cups of flour, people. Sheesh! Thank you, Papa. I am thoroughly enjoying my new toy...as you well know. :) I love you.
Monday, May 26, 2008
1. Flu in Utah involved...
-lots of throwing up
-and late night cuddling of sick children
2.Utah cold in San Diego involved...
-lots of mucous
-and late night cuddling of sick children
3.Ectopic pregnancy involved...
-pain, intense pain
1.Surgery recovery involved...
-lots of sleep
-book reading gallore
-struggling to let other people do stuff for us
-late night wakings as a result of weird dreams
2.Utah cold in San Diego, Bugga's turn involved...
-all the same as mentioned under the April occurrence of this cold
3.San Diego cold in San Diego (current) involves...
-and late night cuddling of sick children
4.Large goose egg on Buddha's noggin from propelling himself into the corner of a wall involves...
-it scared me
-it hasn't slowed him down
-not one bit
-but it sure looks brutal
-see for yourself (right on his forehead above his eye)
The Chief is home from work today, not for the holiday, but because the cold that the boys have been fighting recently has finally found its way to Mom and Dad. UGH! We better have a fantastic, sick-free, pain-free, accident-free June...that's all I have to say.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Barbara, I totally thought Usher was a "raunchy ego-maniac!" I told The Chief before the show started that I was excited to see Usher because I'd heard that he was a good dancer. Needless to say, I was COMPLETELY underwhelmed by his singing (or should I say "lip-syncing") and his dancing (or should I say "foot shuffling"). You are definitely not too old. It's Usher, not you.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Okay, I've had two guilty TV pleasures this year: American Idol and Dancing with the Stars. But seriously, I'm Mormon, how could I not support Brooke White and David Archuleta?! They're my peeps. All I have to say after tonight is, "MORMONS REPRESENT!" :) Just kidding. Really, though, I don't think there's any way that David Archuleta won't win American Idol. I almost fell off the couch when Ryan Seacrest said that David had chosen to sing "Imagine" as his last song. He is brilliant for choosing that. When he sang it the first time, he made me cry. I kept it on my DVR for weeks afterward and would listen to it every now and then. I know, I'm pathetic. I can't help myself...the kid has AMAZING pipes! And to think, he's only 17! Wow. I just hope he doesn't become corrupted by fame.
And Dancing with the Stars, well, justice was served. I think the whole world knew that Kristi would win the whole thing the first time she danced. It was as if the producers had paired two professionals with each other. She is amazing as well - the turns, the footwork, the precision and emotion. She had it all. Jason Taylor had no chance.
You know where I'll be tomorrow night. Popcorn, sweets, and forwarded commercial breaks (thank goodness for DVR)...I can't wait to see the AI finale! Where will you be? Is anyone else out there following these shows or am I really as pathetic as I sound?
I have now been admonished to be extra vigilant while trying to get pregnant. I told Dr. W about what I said to my mother while in Utah. I had been feeling a bit nauseated and really, really tired, but I chalked it up to the flu bug circulating the household. One night, though, I told my mom, "You know, if I wasn't having my period right now I would think I was pregnant." Dr. W jumped on that. He said if I ever have any inklings or feelings or if I'm just plain paranoid, I'm to report to the doctor's office for a blood test, which if it should come up positive for pregnancy, would be immediately followed by an ultrasound. It sounds involved, but I'm relieved to know that I have a safety net in place if there is ever a next time.
Throughout this whole ordeal, I've formed a bond with Dr. W. It must be one of those "you-saved-my-life-and-I'll-never-be-able-to-thank-you-enough" bonds. But because of this bond, I was disappointed when I discovered that Dr. W is no longer an OB, just a gynecologist. He said, and I quote, "I already put in my time with OB." :) So, I did the next best thing. I asked him if there was someone he could recommend who had as good of bedside manner as he does. He said, "No," and then laughed. He did finally recommend a colleague of his that works just down the hallway from him. He also mentioned that there were two women OB's in his office, but that I'd have to have a note from the Pope to be able to get in to see them. Ha ha! What a great sense of humor! :)
So, I can lift my kids and be intimate with my husband again. Hooray! Today I ran a couple of errands and then prepared a picnic lunch to enjoy with the boys outside in the backyard. It's cooled off a bit and I'm loving the breeze! After Bugga went down for his nap, Buddha and I made juice popsicles using IKEA molds that I bought last week. And now, at this moment, Buddha is at my feet, underneath the computer desk, begging me to let him play Starfall. So, I think that'll be all for today. Toodle-oo.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
1st - Faces dancing at Dillards in the PTC.
2nd & 3rd - Sea World
P.S. Shamu had peed as he sped by the boys and Buddha yelled "FIRE!" It was hilarious.
4th - The Three Amigos (watch closely for the "Falling Amigo")
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
"....The Chief had reserved a table for us for dinner at The Marine Room, and at about 4:30pm, I decided it was time to get ready. Dress standards were business casual, so I opted to wear a cute tan skirt Grandma Bagel had bought me and pair it with a lovely knit top. The skirt didn't fit, so I tried another. That didn't fit either. I started to panic. I swear they fit me just a few days before. What was going on? How could I grow three sizes in less than a week? I tried skirt after skirt after skirt. Then I tried on my dresses. I looked about five months pregnant. 'I should have skipped the crepes at lunch,' I thought. I continued to frantically search for a suitable combination, but I was looking large-bellied and coming up empty handed every time....As we left, I felt bloated again, with a dull pain throbbing in my lower abdomen. This was getting annoying...."
"Pathetic as it may sound to someone who has given birth naturally, I'm proud to say that I have managed to last to five centimeters during labor before begging for an epidural. But this was 100 times worse. In fact, I remember in my pain-fogged brain that I asked The Chief at one point if they could just give me an epidural so I couldn't feel my lower extremities anymore. That knife I mentioned before...it must have had a serrated edge and been dipped in poison. I missed my boys. I missed them a lot. I couldn't remember what 'normal' felt like anymore. About 20 minutes after we arrived, we were ushered back to an ER room where we waited for a nurse to come and take my temperature and blood pressure after which we waited again for a doctor to come and 'assess the situation.' I lay on that little half bed, curled up on my left side, then lying on my back, moaning and crying, reading and re-reading the 'How to Create a Dream' poster that was slapped up on the drop ceiling...."
"....Time passed. I don't know how much. The dull lighting of the ER cast an eerie glow around the room, accentuating the age and grime of the building. I didn't care. I couldn't rouse myself enough to care. I still hurt. All was quiet except the occasional hushed chatter of the night staff, and me, moaning, constantly, begging for help...."
"....I delved deep within to ascertain how I really felt about my near-death experience. But try as I may, I could not come up with the appropriate responses. I did not feel immense gratitude for my life, I didn't even feel relief to be alive. My relief and gratitude were reserved for the absence of pain. Its memory was imprinted on my mind and to not feel it anymore, without medication, was amazing, exhilarating, liberating. And the baby, well, it was an abstract to me...."
"...at last the blessed word 'discharge' was spoken and suddenly I was afraid to go home. I knew that my three tiny incisions hid a much larger trauma in my abdomen. How was I going to be able to lift my boys? How would I be able to clean? Would I get good rest or would necessity leave me exhausted and struggling to heal?"
If this were a book, would you want to keep reading? Does this style of writing appeal to you? I want to write a book. :P Stay tuned and you might even learn why this has been dubbed "Chapter 4."
P.S. You, my dear friends and family, are all awesome. I have never felt such an amazing outpouring of love in my life. I appreciate all your comments, emails, phone calls, flowers, cards, dinners, hugs, prayers, and babysitting! :) I am the luckiest person on earth and with wealth being measured in quality relationships, I believe I must be a billionaire! I love you all.