Young Love

Maggie has a boyfriend. At least that's what she tells us. That's also what her boyfriend tells us. My friend has five year old twin boys. Maggie and one of them are smitten with each other. Its quite cute. They talk about each other all the time, and when they see each other its like the world lights up. Today when they saw each other, they ran, yelling each other's names into an embrace. She doesn't hug her other friends. So it was cute. But even cuter, Maggie has a boo boo in the middle of her face. And this sweet boy says to her, "Maggie you still look beautiful with that cut on your face." She promptly yelled at him that it was not a cut, it was a booboo. He quickly ran back to his mom to get help taking off his jacket, and as she did so I over heard this, "Maggie still IS beautiful. She is so beautiful. But a little piece of my heart is missing since she got hurt." Maggie and this boy frequently talk about how they miss each other when they are apart, and have already said the L word.

So, sorry boys, Maggie is taken. We're figuring out which colleges they will be going to and where to do the wedding.

What's blood got to do, got to do with it?

So far in Maggie's short life, all of her major booboos have happened in mommy's company. Yesterday, however, was a change of pace. While I was at work, Maggie got a decent boo boo in daddy's presence, and it involved blood, which I know to be Jeremy's kryptonite. However, they both handled it like pros.

Silly, fairly novice parents that we are, we hung our stockings on a shelf in the living room using heavy, metal, pointy, decorative stocking hooks. This year they hung within reach of our adventurous 3 year old. Yesterday she managed to pull one down onto her face. Of course the corner hit her smack in the middle of her forehead. Her initial reaction was apparently to cry. She seemed alright. There was a minor mark on her forehead. Her next response was to touch it, which prompted a steady flow of blood from her face. When she looked at her hands, she apparently panicked and began running in circles screaming, "I've got red on me. I've got red on me." At which point Jeremy bravely chased her and scooped her up, hoping to keep the blood from getting all over our beige furniture and carpet. I didn't see any when I got home, so he succeeded, at least to my knowledge. Hopefully he didn't just flip over the couch cushions or something. He called me at work to inform me of the incident, and said that "The stupid stocking holder fell off the shelf and hit Maggie." I could hear Maggie, still whimpering in the background chastise Jeremy with a firm, "Stupid is not nice Daddy." I swung home to check on her, as I'm five minutes away. When I walked in the door, what to my wondering eyes did appear? Maggie with a bandaid across her forehead and one across her nose. Jeremy quickly reassured me that the nose bandaid was merely to stop the crying. It was Dora and she makes everything all better. I insisted on peeling back the bandaid to inspect the booboo, only to find that it was attached to her eyebrows. Thus the hysterics began again. It was a minor booboo, but as we know all head wounds bleed ALOT. Everything was quelled with a candy cane and mommy ran back to work. Life is NEVER dull with our lovely children in tow.

Birthday Boy

1 year ago today I was at the hospital with my little Miles. Pretty close to this time of the day. After nearly 18 hours of labor my little boy was born. I walked for hours to move the labor along. Walk for 45 minutes on the monitor for 15. I ate several meals. My knees and ankles ached. I switched from slippers to gym shoes after awhile. The nurses said I must have walked for miles. Such irony that we picked the name long before the labor. I suppose if we have any more children, I'll have to be more careful when I pick out the name. Regardless, he is a joy. He has been the most wonderful laid back little boy I have ever seen. Sweet and calm. He lets his sister love all over him and doesn't cry when she nearly smothers him. He loves his mama and laughs at his dada. He is so much better than we could have ever imagined. We love our Miles and he has been more blessing than we deserve. Happy Birthday sweet boy of ours!