Joy

Thanksgiving.  Growing up Thanksgiving meant traveling to my grandfather's big old house in Swampscott.  My father's family would pile in and we'd spend Thanksgiving together, surrounded by my grandfather's cloud of cigar smoke.  We'd play football, we'd watch the Sound of Music, and Jon, Elizabeth and I would follow our cousin's around.  We'd beg them to draw with us, play with us, do anything with us - we saw them, usually, that one time a year - and we loved every minute of it.

And then after Thanksgiving there was that endless period of waiting...waiting until Christmas day.  We'd decorate cookies, make gingerbread houses, make presents, have a holiday party - and of course, we'd get a tree.  We'd head off into the woods and spend what seemed like hours (in a good way) searching for the perfect tree.  

Last year I got bitten by that holiday bug when I realized Oliver was starting to get the holiday jitters.  Well this year, this year is a whole new ball game.  

Oliver spent Thanksgiving basking in the attention of my cousin's children and football and too much pie and whipped cream.  Then we headed to Maine where we went in search of a tree.  Oliver stepped out of the car and almost immediately chose a tree.  And then he spent forever running through the woods looking at trees for my parents and Elizabeth and Kevin.  And really, just running through the woods full of joy, of excitement about the prospect of bringing home a tree and beginning the Christmas season.

Two!

I continue to be astounded by what my children teach me and how much I learn by being a parent.  While I have mentioned this many times before, one of the greatest lessons I have learned is that those preconceived notions (or most of them anyway) are bunk.

I never truly understood how birth order shapes personality until Henni was born.  When Oliver was born I loved being in the hospital as I was nervous to bring home my first baby - nervous about not having experienced medical staff nearby, hovering, making sure I was doing everything "right."  And once I brought him home, while we had lots of visitors, the two of us were peas in a pod - I did nothing but watch him and anticipate his each and every move for the 13 weeks of my maternity leave.  When Henni was born, I signed a release so that I could leave the hospital less than 24 hours after her birth - I didn't want to be away from Oliver for too long - and he was starting his first gymnastics class the following day and I wanted to be there.  So Monday Henni was born, Tuesday we left the hospital, and Wednesday I was on a trampoline.  For the next 13 weeks Henni and I were two peas in a pod - but this time, she was attached to me in some various way (sling, Moby, Ergo, Bjorn...) and the two of us were off chasing Oliver.  And, there were times Henni had to not be watched each and every second because Oliver was doing some death defying trick and if Henni were to grow up with an older brother - well, the attention needed to be on him.

Henni has become a very independent girl - she has her own opinions and she will happily play, by herself, for extended periods of time.  In fact, she often would prefer some alone-time play.  While there were times I felt guilty Henni could not  have the same one-on-one attention Oliver had, I see now that my divided attention has enabled Henni to become her own person -- and has illustrated to me the impact of birth order.

Prior to having Henni I thought the whole girl-boy thing was mainly nurture; however, Henni and Oliver have proven this wrong.  Oliver is trucks, digging, science, shoes, fashion, blue... Henni is pink, sparkly, fashion, baby, baby stuff...  From the start Henni has sought out the babies, has somehow taught herself how to swaddle babies, has flat-out refused to wear Oliver's hand-me downs and instead finds pink butterflies a fashion necessity.

Henni is full of love and opinions.  She has few words, but gets her point across - firmly.  She watches everything and understands it all.  She thinks of herself as invincible and will give most anything a try.  When she is hungry she gets her silverware, plate and napkin and sets her place at the table and will sit there until food arrives.  And Henni - she is proper - she requires her place setting to be complete and refuses to eat until it is (napkin included).  

Either "Oliver" or "Charlie" are her first words out of her mouth in the morning.  She loves these two to pieces and knows their schedules and needs.  She feeds Charlie, gathers the bags needed for poops, gathers his leash, and will "whistle" to him when it is time for a walk.  Henni will remind me it is time to get Oliver from school, or will point out things Oliver would be interested in when we are out and without him.

Despite serious bribery, Henni refuses to potty train.  Instead she has taken to changing her own diaper (the pee ones that is) - and often incorporates an outfit change at the same time.  Or sometimes she just decides that a diaper change necessitates naked time - a time Henni relishes and a time that terrifies Davis.

I love Henni to pieces.  I love her spirit, her love and her individuality. I can't believe she is two.  She will continue to teach me so many things and will continue to cause my hair to turn grey.  And although  I do cheer those nights she begins the night in her own bed, I love when she migrates down the hall and I can spend the rest of the night snuggling with my daughter.

Not a huge cake fan, Henni chose cookies for her birthday

I thought this illustrated the difference between Oliver and Henni pretty well

Thank you Caren and Travis!

A girl's best friend

Celebrating the good times

We celebrated (a few days early) the good times this past weekend - Henni's second birthday and Jon's 31st birthday.

Initially Henni was insistent that she open each present by herself.  However, she soon decided to outsource her opening to Oliver so that she could play with her new toys.

Henni is usually the first to the table and usually eats a ridiculous amount of food.  However, on Sunday night, Henni did not eat dinner - instead, Henni spent hours walking her babies, feeding her babies, singing to her babies...

She did pause to look at her cake - however, despite sinking her fingers into the center of it, she ate not a bite.

Jon did eat his amazing cake (I was tasked with making a goat cake (goat's are his favorite animal) (angel food and an obscene amount of whipped cream and voila - a mountain range).

The weekend also included the making of jet packs -

The kids have not stopped jetting around - Oliver even jetted his way to school this morning, and Henni spent some time jetting around on her bike.

Mommy

Henni has become a stubborn, independent, loving, dare devil of a mother.  She can play with her babies, by herself, for long periods of time.  I marvel as I watch her swaddle her babies, rock her babies to sleep, sing to her babies, do row row row the boat or other interactive songs with her babies, feed her babies... And, always, stop to take pictures of her babies.

The other night Davis and I were watching Henni and he pointed out that many of the things Henni was doing were things I did - that she was trying to be like me.  She put her phone and keys in her bag, her baby the stroller, grabbed a water bottle, and put her dog on a leash and went off for a walk.  She stopped to say "good dog" to her dog, and stopped to give her baby a snack.  She then ran in front of the stroller and said "cheese" and took a picture of the baby.  

I gave Henni my phone so she could really take pictures of her babies and she spent the next half hour posing her babies throughout the house and taking their pictures (the picture of the three babies below is one of Henni's photos).

While Henni has some questionable traits with respect to being a mom (choosing to take all of her clothes off - anywhere and everywhere and yelling "naked!!!" at the top of her lungs - for example), I do hope that I am as attentive and loving with my little ones as Henni is with her babies.  

Halloween

Nothing quite gets one in the Halloween spirit like small children wielding knives...  

Like other arts and crafts projects in our house, the concept is wonderful, but the execution... Pumpkin carving almost became an execution in and of itself.  Miss INDEPENDENT (note the capital independent) decided she would carve her own pumpkin - by herself.  On occasion I was able to assist, but primarily she carved her pumpkin by herself - scaring me in the process as I watched the knife fly around, watched her grab the metal end of the knife and try to carve using the handle...

The end product was one of the most frightening pumpkins I have ever seen.

With the tricky part of Halloween complete, it was time for the less scary part - treats.

Oliver was a poison dragon because both he and the love of his life (Marisa, my brother's girlfriend) are obsessed with the game DragonVale.  And Henni was a shark - a shark who alternated between growling and saying "Da Da Da..." (from Jaws).

Henni was a bit skeptical or trick or treating at first,

Oliver was not - he was a very focused trick or treater.

Henni warmed up to the event once she caught on to the fact she could get a whole basket of candy.

Two very happy trick or treaters enjoying their treats.