Christmas Eve Reflections....

After Alessandro nearly burnt the house down by throwing a down pillow onto the fireplace, splattered cracked crab all over Grandma's dining room, thrust his hand into the stick of butter, his fingers through every slice of bread and chocolate mousse all over his white oxford, he is now asleep....and it's finally a Silent Night! ♥

The Christmas Pageant

waiting for the play to start - sneaking a peak through the crack in the sanctuary doors.

My Uncle sent me an email last week that I finally had time to read today. I couldn't believe the uncanny timing and similarity to the day I had today with the kids at today's Christmas Pageant where they were angels and a sheep. The girls were pretty good, but Alessandro writhed from the pain of waiting in the back of the church for 50-minutes, refused to wear his hat (the one that gave him the sheep ears) and then continued to run back and forth down the aisle multiple times during the play and then again during the sermon. After church, I had 3 or 4 comments about what an active and quick runner my sheep is. Here is the emailed story sent to me by my uncle:

THE CHRISTMAS PAGEANT
My husband and I had been happily married (most of the time) for five years but hadn't been blessed with a baby.

I decided to do some serious praying and promised God that if he would give us a child, I would be a perfect mother, love it with all my heart and raise it with His word as my guide. God answered my prayers and blessed us with a son. The next year God blessed us with another son. The following year, He blessed us with yet another son. The year after that we were blessed with a daughter. My husband thought we'd been blessed right into poverty. We now had four children, and the oldest was only four years old.

I learned never to ask God for anything unless I meant it. As a minister once told me, "If you pray for rain, make sure you carry an umbrella." I began reading a few verses of the Bible to the children each day as they lay in their cribs. I was off to a good start.God had entrusted me with four children and I didn't want to disappoint Him.

I tried to be patient the day the children smashed two dozen eggs on the kitchen floor searching for baby chicks. I tried to be understanding when they started a hotel for homeless frogs in the spare bedroom although it took me nearly two hours to catch all twenty-three frogs. When my daughter poured ketchup all over herself and rolled up in a blanket to see how it felt to be a hot dog, I tried to see the humor rather than the mess.

In spite of changing over twenty-five thousand diapers, never eating a hot meal and never sleeping for more than thirty minutes at a time, I still thank God daily for my children. While I couldn't keep my promise to be a perfect mother - I didn't even come close... I did keep my promise to raise them in the Word of God.

I knew I was missing the mark just a little when I told my daughter we were going to church to worship God, and she wanted to bring a bar of soap along to "wash up" Jesus, too. Something was lost in the translation when I explained that God gave us everlasting life, and my son thought it was generous of God to give us his "last wife." My proudest moment came during the children's Christmas pageant.

My daughter was playing Mary, two of my sons were shepherds and my youngest son was a wise man. This was their moment to shine. My five-year-old shepherd had practiced his line, "We found the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes." But he was nervous and said, "The baby was wrapped in wrinkled clothes." My four-year-old "Mary" said, "That's not 'wrinkled clothes,' silly." A wrestling match broke out between Mary and the shepherd and was stopped by an angel, who bent her halo and lost. I slouched a little lower in my seat when Mary
dropped the doll representing Baby Jesus, "Mama-mama," and it bounced down the aisle crying. Mary grabbed the doll, wrapped it back up and held it tightly as the wise men arrived.

My other son stepped forward wearing a bathrobe and a paper crown, knelt at the manger and announced, "We are the three wise men, and we are bringing gifts of gold, common sense and fur." The congregation dissolved into laughter, and the pageant got a standing ovation. "I've never enjoyed a Christmas program as much as this one," laughed the pastor, wiping tears from his eyes. "For the rest of my life, I'll never hear the Christmas story without thinking of common sense and fur."

"My children are my pride and my joy and my greatest blessing," I said as I dug through my purse for an aspirin.

Cavalia

We have been staring down the Big Tents, me knowing exactly what's inside of them, for weeks. The girls ask about it on our way to school and I tell them that in those tents they do a very neat show with real live horses. I took my niece Alisia to a show about 6-years ago. It left an indelible mark on my heart. Of course they want to go, but I tell them the tickets are too expensive. That's one draw back about having twins. Or perhaps two girls or multiple children, for that matter. You become more limited in what you can do or see without spending hundreds of dollars. One night of Cavalia for the three of us in "bad" seats is nearly one-month board for one of the horses. Then Grandma brought it up. She wanted to know if I thought the girls would enjoy it. "Yes," I answered. "But for that money, they need to be older and really into horses so that it is truly special." But, Grandma likes to spoil. She bought all the things to get the girls outfitted for their pony, Checkers. She wants to be known as the "Pony Grandma," I guess.
Grandma got us tickets to Cavalia. We asked her to come along with us, but since she's highly allergic to horses, she was worried the show would trigger an asthma attack like it did when she saw the Lipizzaner Stallions in Austria.
The show was, of course, fabulous. The girls enjoyed seeing the Roman riding, trick Western riding and the two 6-month colts. They got a kick out of knowing that Mom used to do some vaulting when she was growing up. They wanted to know if I also did the trapeze like the acrobats did around the riders. No, but Mrs. Branaugh did. "Ohhhhh!" Afterward, they waited in line for some autographs and got some pictures with the performers as well. We left the Big Tent, but they were still high off the show. Bettina is visibly galloping down the sidewalk like a trick pony and Ava's chattering about this and that. "Can we go again tomorrow?" she asks. "Remember what I told you about it being expensive and very special? Perhaps next year." She thinks about this while Bettina is trotting circles around us. "Maybe if we practice for a long time, like until we're 7-years old, we can do our own Cavalia! We can ride Checkers and you can do Misty!" I compliment her idea and ask her to who we give tickets. She immediately starts planning - the guests, the tricks and all the practice that it's going to take. When I take down the dictation for the thank you card to Grandma, Bettina makes sure that Grandma knows that she most of all will be invited to the Cavalia that she and her sister will do in 2-years time.

Welcome Checkers!

They always say, "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth." However, if you're going to have to feed it and cover their vet bills for the next number of years, you better make sure it's a good fit. So, I checked the mouth, his feet, temperament, confirmation, and gaits. And, he had to be cute, too.
One early September day after school, the kids and I drove down the the South Bay to see a woman about a horse. A pony, that is. An Amish-breed painted pony, 12.2 hands and about 7-years old. I didn't want to like the pony because I wasn't sure that we were really ready. I had tried to get a friend to give lessons on her pony first to make sure the girls were ready. They had been clamoring for months about wanting to learn to ride independently on a horse more their size. But, my friend's pony had been lent out and leasing one was more expensive than owning one. We arrived and met "Checkers." He was a little taller than I wanted, but the upside was that the girls wouldn't out-grow him. He'd also been trained to pull a cart, so that could be fun in the future, too. Each girl rode him fine and liked him. I spent some time in the round-pen trying out his ground manners and communication. Well, I couldn't find anything "majorly" wrong with him. He bent to natural horsemanship cues, was hard to spook and had a good head on his shoulders. He was curious but still mindful of manners, so I did a very scary thing: committed to picking him up on Saturday.
We go to see him before school (the girls start at 11:40). We moved both horses to a barn just 6-miles away from there. Checkers has been great in everything, however, he has learned that the girls' hands are not very strong. He will often pull the reins out of their hands or ignore them until either the crop comes out or I start walking next to him (he loves to play Follow the Leader). He and Misty are tighter than anything. If I pull one out, the other is running circles and whinnying until they are in eyesight again. Checkers is also a talker in general - whenever he sees any of us, he will knicker and beckon us closer, hoping for extra treats. He's a real friendly guy who follows the girls and me around the pen like a little pull toy. We are so happy to have Checkers in the family!

School

I can't believe that we're heading back to school already! You'd think I was writing this in August, like I should have, but it's nearly December and we're heading back after a week of gorging ourselves with turkey, trimmings and all the other delicacies of the season. While thinking about writing about these nearly-winter activities, I remind and chastise myself that there is some catching up to do.
You'd think that the girls' first day in Kindergarten would be one of those milestones that I'd run back to write about, ensuring that every detail of the day would be fully documented in picture and prose. Equally important was Alessandro's first day at pre-school two-weeks later. However, with all the transition, paperwork and taxi-ing, the blog was one of the many things that got pushed to the wayside.
In short, everyone LOVES school. The girls come home with a healthy portion of curiosity and have shown already tremendous growth. As luck would have it, the education curriculum-pendulum is pretty much at the same place it was when I was teaching. So all the skills I started with them will be useful to them (yea!). In fact, at their first assessment, the teacher says they have most of the Kindergarten reading skills and suspects they will be early readers. As a former reading specialist, this makes me very happy. They get older 5th grade reading buddies, which is thrilling enough. However, when they are matched with one of their friend's sister, it's enough to send little Bettina over the moon. I can't tell you how many pictures she's drawn that bear Cali's name or how many times she talks about her at home. I sometimes worry that the original friend, Stephanie (Cali's younger sister), may feel less important or dissed as Bettina blabs on about her sister.
Both are blooming socially and are doing very well in counting and basic addition as well. We have also signed up for the Kindergarten's version of Girls Scouts. Ava and Bettina are Daisies. They have vests on which I am continually sewing on something new. They have 2-years to earn all their pedals. And, since no one mom wanted to be the troop leader, we have started a co-op. It's my turn to help host next month and in January. So, I've been spending time on the Girl Scouts of America's website, getting trained and preened to become a "trained leader ." My big give-back is that for one day every month until June, I can pick up the girls one-hour later than usual. Host 2-events and pay about $100 in registration and clothing for 9-extra hours. Eh - it's about even.
Alessandro, of course, continues to think he's five and gets confused when he has to go home for a nap instead of line up on the green line when the Kindergarten bell rings. He pines for them, unless he's already at his school, which is 2-days a week.
First impressions about school? Bring you checkbook - it seemed like they were asking for money at every single opportunity! I almost resented having to walk to the door to pick up the girls because I knew that someone somewhere was going to remind me to pay for something new. However, it is also the cutest, most hopeful, tender-hearted part of their lives thus forth.

Batten Down the Hatches!

I need baby locks for my baby locks...Alessandro has figured out a lot this week. He can now open doorknobs and is constantly in the pantry (which used to be my "safeguard.") So, now, the breadth of this destruction is even larger. He moves chairs to reach things on the countertop, including the butcher block (which I had to move), uses furniture to climb to higher shelves (he loves to play with the TV and surround-sound equipment, sometimes startling himself into tears if he turns the volume up too high), and just this morning, he used a chair to climb into the refrigerator. Thankfully, this happened BEFORE the Costco run. But, the tomatoes, grapes and most of the eggs he launched onto the floor in search of apple juice were a total loss. (Anyone know how to get egg out of a kitchen carpet? Can you get salmonella from walking on a carpet?)
Sigh...and I thought he was a handful before.... When does pre-school start again?

Mila's Day Dreams

Would be so cool to convert these to note cards.... What creative imagination (and a sound sleeper) this woman has!
Click here to see Mila's Day Dreams

Ava's Adenoidectomy (or as Mommy says, the Pajama Party)

For the last couple of years, our pediatrician has asked the same question every time Ava comes to visit: "Does Ava have a cold?" "No," is my response, "she always sounds that way." It gets to the point that I start teasing the doctor and she realizes the pattern. "Well, if this is normal, then I'd like you to see an ENT (ear/nose/throat doctor). I'll bet she has enlarged adenoids. Is she a mouth-breather?" Well, yeah....
Sure enough, x-rays show that Ava's airway is 80% blocked by her adenoids and the ENT recommends that they be removed. Minuses: pain for up to a couple of days, general anesthesia risks, risk of bleeding. Pluses: improved airway & breathing, less ear/sinus infections, better/more normal development of the palate and jaw which can decrease chances in orthodontic work in the future. Paul and I weigh the facts and decide to get it done before school starts.
I worry about worrying Ava about the procedure. I don't tell her about it until the day before when she sees me packing some of her clothes and toothbrush into a bag. "Why are you packing my pajamas?" she asks. "Because, we're going to go to a pajama party at the doctor's very early tomorrow morning." I remind her about the visit to the doctor a few days back and explain that we get to visit him again. He is going to fix something in her throat and she gets to wear pajamas. I actually manage to get her a little bit excited about the event, detracting any nervousness, which was exactly my intent.
Ava and I arrive at the surgical center at the same time as another mother/daughter team, about 6:25am. Ava and the other little girl, Mia, hit it off in the waiting room and find out they are both 5-years old and having the same surgery. Mia is taken in a few minutes before Ava, but we see her in the bed opposite us in the pre-operation area. They wave to each other and make funny faces while doctors and nurses talk to the adults. Then, Mia is pushed down the hall, propped up by her unicorn pillow. I realize we didn't bring any of Ava's lovies and regret it instantly. The anesthesiologist is great and asks Ava to choose between the cherry-smelling mask or the bubble gum. Ava goes for cherry and shows him how she can breathe deeply and pretend she's eating cherry pie. This is when I realize I didn't need my cup of coffee. My adrenaline starts pumping; my sudden nervousness makes me jittery and hyper at the same time. I think I need my own cherry-mask. Soon, Ava is blowing me kisses as she's wheeled down the hall.
Although I brought a book, I choose to read the mindless tabloid articles in the waiting room for the half-hour procedure; I can't follow a plot right now. I keep watching the door for a familiar nurse or doctor. The surgeon comes out claiming Ava's the best patient ever and is ready to be seen. He also mentions that while he was in there, he noticed she also had a sinus infection, something neither Ava nor I were aware of. I wonder what percentage of her time she was so congested. She is just gaining awareness when I reach her and she crumbles into a pile of tears upon seeing me. I know this is normal, so I'm OK. The nurse sets up a wonderful large reclining chair in front of a TV of cartoons and puts Ava on my lap with a blanket and a towel over my clothes. She cries for 3-4 minutes, then settles into watching Phineas & Ferb. We soon learn she is much like her mother (sensitive to anesthesia) and we go through a couple of bed-bowls. However, Ava is a trooper! We can hear Mia in the room next to us. She hasn't stopped crying since she woke up. I remind Ava how brave she is. Ava is very sleepy and twice she nods off in my arms. I take this as the perfect opportunity to tell me she's ready to go home and take a nap. She's not sure her stomach is ready, so we wait one more cartoon program longer. She's still not very interested in her blue Otter Pop during the car ride back and it gets only half eaten.
We make it home and she takes a nap in a dark room. I celebrate with my mother that we didn't loose Ava's cute husky voice to the surgery (something Paul and I would have missed). One-hour later, Ava just pops out of bed and comes looking for her Popsicle. She downs three and asks Grandma if she can glue the sticks together to make an "A." While the glue is drying, she asks if she can draw and soon is busy engulfed in art. It's like nothing even happened. No complaints about pain...nothing! Tonight we went out for dinner to celebrate Ava's bravery. She ate like a horse with nothing bothering her throat. And, do you know what makes it all complete? While watching my angel fall asleep tonight I notice that for the first time, her mouth is closed; she's breathing through her nose! Amazing.

Business with Daddy

Paul told me a funny story tonight. While at the restaurant, Paul took Alessandro to the bathroom to wash his sticky hands. While there, Paul decided to use the urinal. Alessandro stood there and watched Daddy, then picked up his shirt to look what he should do. "You want to go pee-pee?" Daddy asked. "Yeah," answered his little voice, so Paul pulled down Alessandro's pants and took off his diaper.
Alessandro looked down again and waited. He pushed, but didn't have any pee-pee ready. He pushed harder, but all that came out was a big fart.
"Good job," says Daddy. Nothing like doing business with Daddy.

A Summer's Goal Realized

Darned it if we weren't going to make sure the girls were water safe this summer! With Little Man being as mobile as he is, I wasn't going to have 3 non-swimmers and attempt to go to the pool! So, last April, we started swim lessons with our gym's swim coach in an effort for them to be safe enough to join the Jr-Jr swim team... the pre-school of swim teams, per say, which was set to start in June.
In April, it didn't look good. The girls screamed, protested, writhed in emotional pain that we would force them into the pool to try doing anything other than cling to someone's neck. The coach, a veteran teacher of 20+ years, was dumbfounded. Never, she told me, had she seen a student which such a "strong foundation" for swimming fight so hard. And, there were two of them!
Well, we decided that Mom had to stay away from the pool, lest the kids think I'd be swayed by their protests. In addition, each time they tried what the teacher asked, without crying (Tina would sometimes hyperventilate she'd be so upset), we'd take a trip to Powell's Candy Store for their choice of candy. Bribery and lack of a sympathetic eye was our strategy. Two months later, they could kick on a kick board by themselves (no one touching the board) and were ready for the big pool.
Today was their last day of swim team. After 2 more months, Bettina can swim the length of the 25-meter pool freestyle, back stroke 4-5 arm movements before spinning on her tummy to see what's ahead, then starting on her back again, and can side stroke and butterfly kick with the kick board. Last week, she swam 18-laps in 20-minutes. Pretty awesome! Ava is a bit more like a princess. The stars have to be aligned or she stops to rest (or adjust her goggles, swim cap, etc). She can side stroke and free style, but blows off the backstroke (unless she's hugging her kick board) and doesn't quite "get" the butterfly kick. Last week, she swam 10-laps in 20-minutes. Hey, she's water safe. I figure next summer she can start perfecting all the technicalities!! Below is a video I took today in the last 2-minutes of their 20-minute workout. I wish I'd thought to do it earlier because they weren't as tired and were swimming a whole lot better. However, it's clear that, as far as our Goal for the Summer of 2010: Mission Accomplished!

It's Kind of Like Rats...

Wouldn't you know it....the morning we have a doctor's appointment for Ava, Alessandro wakes up incredibly early: 5:45am, about 1.5 hours before he usually does. Now my timing for the day is totally off. Yet, we have the doctor's appointment, a pretty important one at the ENT as Ava is slated to have a abenoidectomy next week. So, off we go, three kids and a mom.
There is a large waiting room at this office and it's is really nice. Ava remembered that there is a television that plays cartoons ("Ice Age" was playing last time, she reminds me) and a toy box when we're all finished. It's big enough for a bunch of toddler toys and a Montessori-style wooden table with 4 chairs (the kind that has the colored beads on wire tracks all twisted up like parallel roller coasters) to sit on one side, a small library of children's books in the middle and the flat screen TV (currently playing the news) on the other. Bettina goes for the kids' books; Ava sits on one side of the wooden table and starts pushing beads from one end to the other; Alessandro copies Ava from the other side.
After watching them, I say aloud "I think we're going to stay here all day," to the receptionist. "It's the quietest they've been all day!" I drink my cup of coffee and think that perhaps we can make it through this appointment despite Alessandro being overly tired and just primed for a melt-down.
Soon (too, soon), Ava's name is called and we're crammed into a small exam room with only 2 chairs and a ton of expensive doctor equipment just about eye level for kids. Now, it's about here that I should have turned around and said, "Is it OK for us to wait in the larger room until the doctor is REALLY ready?", but, I assume (stupidly) that the doctor must be close to being ready to see us because we were escorted here to begin with.
The first 3-minutes were spent trying to fairly figure out just who, out of the 4 of us, get to sit in the 2 chairs. The kids all try various combinations of cramming together, pushing and shoving ensues and Alessandro shrieks in protest when he can't have one to himself. After I create a system of "fairness," Alessandro leaves the game, walking over instead to the doctor's tools. He somehow manages to turn a light on one of the instruments and smiles with pleasure. Picking him up, I try to distract him pointing out the posters on the wall asking them to find their ear (nose and mouth). Bettina then discovers (accidentally) the lever that makes the patient's chair recline and Ava falls back suddenly. The room explodes in kiddie laughter. I start to realize I'm losing control and wonder when this doctor is coming into the room.
Twenty-minutes later, I'm angry and talking to my kids through clenched teeth, just trying to keep them from playing with all these expensive gadgets and tools. Finally, the door opens and in comes the doctor.
Now, Ava's ENT doctor is a tiny man with a meek disposition who's completely calm, organized and speaks in a whisper - essentially the exact opposite of the crowd he has waiting for him in his exam room. He does a good job of pretending he can talk to me and ignore all the chaos of the kids around me, however, I can hardly hear him and it takes all my concentration to focus on what he's saying. Frustration wells up inside me as I try to bat away the noisy kids who ask me questions, crawl on me or attempt to take something off the doctor's cart. I'm a little conscience of what this quiet doctor thinks of me and my crazy kids as they were the same way last time we came. Then I wonder if he even has any at home with whom he could be comparing mine.
He opens the door, releasing my kids who wildly run down the hall without me in search of the toy box. As I trot to catch up to them, he says, "You are sure a busy mom!" I feel like I need an excuse for the ruckus.
Driving back, I reflect back on the visit and wonder how to have a decent conversation with a doctor. Why is this doctor's office so difficult all the time? And, then it dawns on me....the exam room is just too darned small!! Kids, given a small space to wait, become like rats. They were happy enough in the large waiting room where they had individual space to work on their own activity. But, bound in a small closet for an extended amount of time, they back-bite, trample and become loud. Perhaps, then, doctors could create a special "large-families" room, sort of like the handicapped stall in the bathrooms; a room that's just a little bit larger to accommodate our special needs. Or, perhaps, the next time we're there, I'll just ask to have the conference in the waiting room where there's enough room for my rats to roam.

Happy Birthday, Alessandro!

A year of photos of our little man -- we love him so much! Last year, he definitely was still a baby; he's all toddler now. He started pre-school (or a week of their summer school version) last week and adores it. He's been dying to go. When we'd go by the school to drop off the girls, Alessandro would wriggle out of my arms and run across the driveway, down the breezeway, pull open the door himself (which usually gave time for the girls and me to catch up to him) and screech down the hall, banking a hard right at their classroom door. He'd run straight in and find a place at a table or on the carpet where he'd dump over a bin of plastic animals and start playing with the other boys. They would just look at him, then look at me, and wonder to themselves how to be polite about getting that little boy out of the way of the game! After I'd check the girls in, he'd kick and scream and wriggle out in more attempts to stay with the rest of the gang.
At the class's pre-school graduation, I was pleased to hear a mom say, "You know, we need a picture of Alessandro with the class. He's like the class mascot!" Well, he's got a class of his own now, however, I've been ever-so-worried about the nap schedule routine at school. Alessandro's an early napper and, frankly, it's worked out well that way since I have to pick up the girls from school by 2:15. At school, he'll have to learn to shift his nap forward 2-whole hours. I'm crossing my fingers. THAT schedule will actually come in handy for the girls' Kindergarten schedule next year, so I hope it sticks.
Alessandro will be at pre-school today for his birthday. I think I might bring in a couple boxes of Popsicle for his class to help him celebrate (again)!
What can I say about Alessandro on this, his second anniversary of life: he's so full of energy, an optimist, determined, pretty good at sports, loves his sisters, balloons are his best friend, is aware of his limits, but tests them often, is stoic, and the light of our lives. I could never imagine life without him.
On this day, two years ago, he was a birthday present to US!

Where's the Straight-Jacket?!

Little Mr. Up-To-No-Good! Alessandro's a total handful now! He's a stealth trouble-maker who knows how to open the cabinets and climb onto the sink vanities, open drawers and pull out every single hair bow in the girls' collection and throw them about the floor. He even climbs into the chicken coop after eggs.
If things are too quiet, I know to look in the bathroom where he will be standing on the vanity with the water running, bar of soap in his hands, rubbing the mirrors and all his clothes down with the stuff. Thank goodness he hasn't rubbed his eyes yet or somehow burned them with the soap.
Last night, I thought the girls were brushing their teeth while getting ready for bed. "Girls, you're wasting water. Shut off the water while you brush, please," I call. "It's not us, Mommy. It's Alessandro," they answer from their room. Gasp! I sprint up the stairs to find him standing on the double vanity in his footed pjs, both sinks blasting water, one half filled and the other, just about overflowing (he somehow plugged them both up). He's dipping a wet washcloth into the water. Wet marble, footed fleece pjs, child standing....so dangerous! He instantly knows he's not supposed to be where he is and tries to jump down. I panic that he's going to fall. This is going to kill me!
This morning: While cleaning the Cheerios Alessandro has dumped all over the downstairs like some sort of ticker tape parade, I hear the sink water running again. I drop what I'm doing to dash upstairs to rescue Little Man from himself again. Along the way, I remind the girls (who are being silly instead of finishing to straighten their beds) that we need to leave in 2-minutes. I turn off the sinks (again!) and get Little Man down from the vanity (how does he climb up there, anyways?). Ava comes in and informs me she's peed herself laughing too hard about Bettina's joke. Both she and the bed are totally wet. So, I strip the bed while she changes, start the sheets in the washer and head back down. We're going to be late for the dentist! We're all at the front door ready to leave. Wait - where's the baby.... I run back upstairs and find him on the floor of my bathroom with all the band-aids and toilet paper strewn around him. He sees me and tries to bolt, but I've got him cornered. I pick him up like a sack of potatoes and he kicks and screams in objection. I think to myself, "Where's the straight-jacket!!" However, I haven't quite figured out who it's for....me or the mischief!

Alessandro - 22 months

playing with the water fountain at Great-Aunt Mary Ann's house

I promised myself that I will be in bed before 11pm - that I will just drop whatever I'm doing and go to sleep because if I don't, I'd be up until 1am every night, trying to do it all on 5-hours of sleep. This is an attempt to explain why it's been 3-months since Alessandro's last monthly update. Excuses aside, let's talk about Little Man! I've only got 15-minutes to write!

What a bundle of happiness he is! Alessandro exudes happiness; laughter and smiles bubble through his cute dimpled cheeks. He loves to be right in the middle of everything still. He's a big help around the house, insisting that he put his dirty diapers in the garbage and his dirty clothes in the hamper - and whatever else he sees his sisters do, he wants to do it too. Tonight, I was calling the girls down to help clean the giant mess of toys in the play area. And, while I was starting to clean, throwing Littlest Pet Shop toys in one bag and horses in another, I noticed that Alessandro was chasing me to add to each bag. Surprisingly, he knew that I was sorting the toys a special way. So, I let him hold the Littlest Petshop bag and watched, amazed, as he chose only the correct toys and then zipped it up and dropped them into the toy basket. He trotted back, wanting to finish the horses! So, his sorting/math skills are showing promise already.
He is in training to be off the "chu-chu" (aka pacifier) soon and, so far, he's pretty good about giving it back except when we're in the car or in his bed. Another score...however, Paul noticed a little discoloration on one of his front teeth and wondered if it might be a cavity from all the juice he drinks (he has always refused to drink milk). Well, next week's first trip to the dentist will tell.
Alessandro loves to play ball and regularly shoots baskets in his toddler hoop with the girls and Daddy. Daddy loves this, admiring his shooting stance (overhand with some wrist action - the proper way - vs underhand or with both hands like his sisters do) and calls him "Basketball Boy," cheering every time he scores (which is more often than not). Alessandro has been asking for the basket to go up higher, so now there is more of a challenge.
He knows his alphabet song and has started speaking whole sentences. One of the first most-memorable ones was after he noticed my shock at coming in and seeing the mess of toys on the floor. "Tina did it," Alessandro said. I called Bettina in, and sure enough, she had. I was also amazed when he pointed out the window and he said, "Blue car, Mommy!" Yeah, it was a blue car driving past us. Coincidence? Could be, but wow! He'll also say things like, "Emma go bye-bye," "Bye-bye, Misty! I love you!" followed by a blown kiss. He loves to "talk back" to the television when shows like Dora the Explorer or Kai-Lan ask kids to repeat words back. "Hola, Tico," was said with gusto and enthusiam during Dora's adventure today.
The kid loves to dance, is an excellent jumper, and is very physical. He will continue to swing punches at me to get my attention. He throw things - hard - and can easily (and regularly) hurts the girls without even trying. During the summer, he will start a music and movement class at the gym. I know he will LOVE it!
My favorite time of day, however, is bed time. It seems to be the only time he's not in constant motion and he will crawl onto my lap in his PJs, smelling so good and clean from his bath, and will let me cuddle up close to his head while I read him his books. He's very into his board books now and has decided favorites. He used to favor Sandra Boyton, but now it's the picture word books. He points to photos for me to name or I'll say a word and he's to point it out. I bury my nose into his hair and just breathe through it so I can drink up every ounce. He will start to rub his eyes and then ask for his apple juice. One last cuddle...one last caressing of his face and our eyes lock as I say a sincere "I love you, Little Man. Sleep tight." And, I leave with my heart full.
We are sleeping through the night, now, which is great! I don't think the girls did until they were three-years old. OK - 5-minutes after 11pm - time for sleep!

My Swagger Wagon

I must admit -- I wasn't looking forward to becoming a Mini-Van Mom. Something about it just seemed "old" or something. However, I'm now proud of my sweet ride, 4-years "riding with my posse in the HOV lane." Cracker crumbs and sand cover the floor, apple juice glazing the chair in front of Baby Brother, childrens' music stacked in the 6-CD automatic changer. Yeah, it's my Swagger Wagon....even though we drive a Honda.



(click here if you can't see the video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pUG3Z8Hxa5I)

Vacationing Whales

There is a ship's bell at the entrance of Las Olas ("The Waves") restaurant which looks over the beach and pounding surf in front of our hotel. It is rung when the whales (greys and blues, among others) or "las ballenas," which migrate down the coast, swim near to shore and are spotted breaching or blowing along the way. They are most abundant from January to March. This morning as we eat breakfast, the bell is ringing near constantly. Every couple of minutes, we, along with other guests, stop eating and look out toward the horizon to see the mist from their breaths and the blackness of their backs. Ava, who complains near constantly that everything is either too hot or cold, worries that the whales will get too cold swimming out there. I assure her that the whales don't complain too much about the relatively warm waters in Mexico. "They are going to places where the water's much colder than here. They have tough skin with lots of fat under it," "Oh," she understands, "even whales go on vacation to Mexico!"

Kids on Vacation

Ava is now very adept at ordering strawberry daiquiris from the pool-side bar. She scoots herself hand-over-hand from the shallow-end to the first submerged bar stool, then hops from one stool to the next until she's in front of the bartender. Then she says, "Un strawberry daiquiri, por favor," then scoots herself and her drink back to the hot tub. She does this a dozen or so times a day, retrieving drinks for Bettina as well. It's really very cute! Our room couldn't be better placed. From our balcony, we look directly onto the hot tub and wading pool, which is where the girls spend 80% of their time. Next to it are the poolside bar and snack-shack, so, when they're not in the pool, they are likely eating the very yummy kid-friendly food. From our balcony, we can keep track of them; especially handy when Alessandro's napping or trying to spot and catch up with the gang afterwards.

Bettina has been an absolute shadow of Megan, following her around like a little puppy. When the waiter comes to ask what we'd like to drink, Bettina answers, "I'll have whatever Megan's having." She absolutely fawns over her. Our second night at dinner, Bettina demonstrates her resolute loyalty by gently petting and covering Megan with the linen napkins in an effort to comfort Megan as she quietly suffered from a sunburn.

Alessandro is now in the habit of looking for iguanas each and every time we pass a hollowed out place in the wall near the restaurant. They are like clockwork; each morning, two of the reptiles park and sun themselves (at least until we stare them down too long). Then they scurry out and hide again inside their wall. It never ceases to fascinate the Little Man.

Money Well-Spent

It gets windy in Los Cabos at about 10:30 in the morning, so the best money we've spent so far is the $50 we paid a couple of local women on the beach to braid the girls' hair Bo Derrick-style. It sure beats hearing them whine, cry and complain about getting their wet and wind-blown hair brushed out each time they get out the pool or go to eat. Beaming, Bettina said that she feels like a princess having her hair done. It took about half and hour and, I swear, they never sat that still for that long for any of my hairstyling! They look like little Malatos, especially now that their skin is getting all browned from their now third day in the sun.

Spring Break 2010

" I don't want to go to Mexico," Ava says, showing a bit of apprehension.
"Why not?" I ask.

"Grandpa says that they only speak Spanish there. How am I going to make any friends when I don't know how to speak Spanish?"

"Friends will come easy enough," I assure her, "and, a lot of them can speak both English and Spanish. And then there will be Kylee and Megan - they will be there too."

"Excitement his both Ava and Tina's eyes. They quickly claim one for each other and when we do meet us with tme in LAX, they quickly run and clasp hands with them. Getting to LAX, however, was a feat to begin with. Five-weeks in advance, we sent in Alessandro and Paul's passport application/renewal forms and they assured us they would be ready in enough time for our departure. Alesandro's came with more than a week to spare. Paul's, however, arrived a mere 19-hours before our scheduled flight, which left us biting our fingernails. Alessandro and I also nearly missed our flights as we were held up for nearly and hour over a ticketing issue with Alessandro. he was flying internationally as a lap-child and there was confusion within the three entities (Expedia, Alaska and American) as to whether or not we had paid the taxes for his "fare" on the e-ticket (even though he was "free" as a lap-child). He and I literally made it to the gate just as they were closing the door. My belt and necklace were still in-hand from the security checkpoint and our shoes and carry-ons stashed in Alessandro's stroller, used more like a race car than a stroller, in order to get there in time.

The flights were seamless and, although Alessandro didn't sleep, very easy. We arrived at our hotel to mimosas and a welcoming breeze. The all-inclusive resort took on immediate value as we quickly found the margaritas and walked around to get our bearings. Ah! Mexico!

Easter Egg Hunt

The hidden stash

On Tuesday, I started to wonder if something funny was going on. Yesterday, the chickens only left me one egg and today there are none. I usually get at least two if not three. I wonder if my mother-in-law, who lives next door and had obviously been doing some weeding in our yard today, didn't just lift up the hutch and take a few and didn't say anything. Although we'd certainly be just fine with that, I quickly dismiss this thought as it would be SO unlike her. Hummm....
Wednesday there are no eggs again! Huh? And yesterday, only one. I wonder if they've made some secret nest....I rummage through the backyard, looking at their usual dust-bath spots, but can't find a thing. If you saw our backyard, you could see that finding a secret nest is like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. That's why Nonna has been weeding in our yard; it's a jungle with most plants 2-3 feet tall with a canopy of some weeds over 4 feet tall. I sort of like it that way as I think it give the chickens extra protection and they LOVE to eat and chew on the variety of weeds around.
Then I wonder if maybe they're sick or stressed and have stopped laying...
Well, today I went out and, again, found no eggs in their boxes. Determined to find them, I look under tarps, wheelbarrows, around rock piles and then, FINALLY, I see something blue in the corner of my eye... There in the weeds is a hole in a thicket that leads to, you guessed it - a hidden nest, piled high with 15 eggs!!
So, I grab one of the kids' sandbox pails and collect the clutch. As I'm gathering, I wonder with a smile if I haven't thwarted some collaborative with the Easter Bunny. I mean, they're already painted green and blue! I envision the chickens syphoning off their work for a designated night drop-off with a local bunny worker. If so, Easter Bunny, I apologize in advance! I will be sure to do all the work at this house to help lighten your load.

A Children's Song that Speakes "Parent"

The Parent's Daily Anthem - elected by me who USED to not drink coffee....and then kids came...

Thanks for speaking "parent," Ralph!

Grandma's birthday

We just finished celebrating Grandma's birthday. Ainsley came down with her kids and we found time to get everyone together for a rare photo. Here's the result with Grandma (or as Alessandro says, "Emma") and all five of them: Alessandro, Darren, Ava, Braxton and Bettina.
Happy birthday!!

The Girls' Life in Pictures

The girls just LOVE drawing....Any sort down-time is dedicated to crayons, paper and sounding out words. It always seems to be that I start paying close attention to their art during the spring time each year. Last year blogged about their art they were making shapes and using different colors. The year before, I blogged they were just starting to eek into the schematic stages of drawing.
This year, not only are they are late stages of the schematic stage, but they are adding words to their drawings. Another mom in their class commented to me one day that Ava & Bettina are pretty advanced in their drawings. After hearing that, I took note of the art around their classroom. They have been studying dinosaurs and the kids were asked to say and draw what they would do if they saw a real dinosaur. Dictation was taken by the teacher and written underneath each picture. Ava said that she "would hide," and in her drawing, she is hiding while the dinosaur walks past her. The dinosaur has the word "Roar" next to it. Bettina told the teacher she would "fight it" and in her picture she is facing the dinosaur. The word "Hiya" is etched out in black crayon next to her. That mom was right. They are not only deeper into the schematic stage than most kids, but they were the only ones in both classes (out of 28 kids) that incorporated words with their drawings. That's sort of cool!

Dos Part Deux?

Comparative study: new chicken vs. Dos - are they the same bird??

I always had a feeling that the story of Dos wasn't finished. I can't explain why.
Something told me to keep checking with the animal shelter. Actually visiting is hard with three kids, even though it's very close to the house. There's enough chaos as it is at the shelter much less when you bring a pack of kids with you. So, I kept a virgil by calling in and listening to the recorded message of which animals had been turned in during the last 24-hours. I also kept an eye out at the big websites, petfinder.com and petharbor.com. In the meantime, we replaced Tres with a beautiful bird, a lone Easter Egger hen from Alameda. The Coast Guard family decided to reclaim their yard; a free-ranging chicken (read chicken poop everywhere) and a baby who was just about ready to walk were not a good match, so they gave her to us. Her introduction to Uno was dramatic for about a day after which Uno stopped chasing the bird I have named Nellie (she's a very friendly, but nervous Nellie) and started bonding with it. After nearly 4-weeks after Dos's last sighting, it seems the impossible happened. I was actually in the shelter returning a sweet Red Star bird named Lola who just wasn't going to fit into the flock. She'd been debeaked by her previous caretaker and couldn't defend herself against Uno's persistent pecking. Even though it was after adoption hours, I took a quick look into the bird kennels and couldn't believe my eyes! "I think that's my bird!" I told the lady at the door.
We couldn't take her out since adoption hours were over, but I was told to come back tomorrow to confirm and I could trade Lola for this one (SF shelters allow you to trade animals within 15-days of adoption).
So, today we went in and visited the hen I thought for SURE was Dos! However, after handling her, I'm not entirely convinced. She looks exactly alike, however, this bird is a lot more skittish and a bit heavier than Dos. Paul is sure both can be argued away as things that happen to a bird who's been gone a whole month. Perhaps he likes thinking it's the same bird (like the kids do). At first, I was convinced they were the same, but now I'm not sure. A big indicator is that Uno is not giving this bird a hard time at all! This makes me lean into thinking she is Dos as Uno has downright chased, chided and tortured both of the other birds we brought in. So, what do you think? There are pictures above of both birds...can you tell the difference? Well let the audience decide...

The Second Return of Uno and the Demise of Tres

Pretty little Dos is Missing.
We had my cousins over for dinner last night. We feasted like kings and enjoyed ourselves, happily chatting and drinking wine until nearly the wee-hours of the morning. Little did we know, we were also hosting another feast in our back yard.... Raccoons...and Paul swears that he's gonna kill them the next time he sees them.

Early this morning, Paul goes down at my request to let the chickens out of their coop to graze and wander for the sleepy morning we'd planned. He comes back with a grave face and mouths to me (so that the kids can't hear) that Tres, the black one, has been strewn across the backyard and the other two are gone. He returns to the yard to collect the parts, which are mostly picked clean, so that they aren't discovered by the kids. While doing so, he spots Uno on the other side of the fence and sends me out to fetch her. Within minutes, I'm in the back of the fence, clucking like a chicken, to coax her out from hiding. She comes running over when she hears me and is easy to catch. We gather in the house to pet and love on the second safe return of Uno (you may recall how in September, Uno was lost in the "great outdoors" for nearly 4-days until we found her, gratis to a craigslist lead, on the side of the highway!). Two chickens accounted for; one, Dos, is still MIA.

Paul is melancholy all morning, mourning the terrible fate of Tres and the terrifying and grotesque scene which Uno had to live. We can only hope that Dos is safe somewhere, hunkered down like Uno did last fall and will come out later to be discovered. There is absolutely no sign of one brown feather to suggest she had a struggle with anyone. "This is why we shouldn't be keeping these things," he mourns. He's insinuating it's for the kids' sake, but I know he's thinking about his personal discomfort and emotional trauma. Who knew he was really such a softy?

We searched the terraces behind our house; first him and then me (since I can make the gentle clucking that brings them out). The entire time I'm combing the bushes and grasses above the freeway, I'm feeling guilty. Did I inadvertently leave the latch undone when I checked on them last night before the company arrived? Tres was nested nearest to the window. Could the raccoons be cleaver enough to fumble with the lock until they opened the door or was I just lazy in my haste to cook my cousins' dinner and left the window half closed?

Absolutely no sign of her in the wilds of the terraces. So, we've posted our craigslist ad again and have emailed out to the neighborhood via the parents' group. We hope there will soon be a reply, even if it is to note some small clump of brown feathers in the field. There is hope to find her - Uno has shown us that. However, tonight we mourn the definite loss of Tres. Hopefully, one chicken dinner is enough for the raccoons this week.

Alessandro - 19 Months

Alessandro is getting more and more like a little kid and less like a baby. Well, he still has a strong relationship with his pacifier, but in most aspects, he's a little man.

He's able to string two and even three words together (example, "apple juice, Momma") and eagerly jumps into songs or dances he knows. In the car, he will start clapping in all the right places to B-I-N-G-O and, from the other room, he will race to the television to chant "Spongebob Square Pants" when he hears the pirate ask, "Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?" My mom watched him one morning and when I came back, she marveled in telling me that he sung himself to sleep singing the "A, B, C" song. He knows all the way to "E" and then just starts making them up.

He parrots everything that's said to him and the girls have found this a lot of fun. "Say 'silly song,' Alessandro," they'll say, and he does. They will spend a whole car ride asking him to repeat words and no one tires of it. One morning, again at Grandma's, I prompted him to say, "I love you." We were entertained and warmed by a whole symphony of back-to-back "I love yous" that at times when into song and were shouted at the top of his voice. Valentines Day come early.

The flip side to this is that he knows he's growing up; he wants to do everything himself. Mealtimes are a disaster and a mess. I've decided just to throw an art smock on him and sweep the floor 5-times a day instead of fighting or training him. The exchange just results in more mess and both of us upset. I have needed to take away the crayons and art supplies while he is awake as he will proceed to draw on anything and his sisters get very upset that he's "ruined" their drawings with his slashes of color. And he has started his "terrible two" tantrums...yikes!

All in all, however, he is the purest form of joy and enthusiasm. We get all kinds of complimentary comments about him, often confirming his "Little Man" status and demeanor. We love him to pieces!

Sick

It all started a week ago. It seems a whole lot less dramatic now, but only because we're on the back end...the back end of a giant tsunami that totaled this household completely.

Day 1: Alessandro was cuddling in bed with us in the morning and, after drinking from his sippy cup (his equivalent of a lovie), he threw up a little bit. Completely confused about what just happened, he held it in his mouth long enough for me to jump out of bed and carry him to the bathroom sink. That was weird, Paul and I wondered.
We had plans of driving out to look at a couple houses with our realtor. We were already running late, but had to stop on the side of the road 3 times on the way there to clean up the Little Man who had absolutely totaled his outfit and his car seat. Paul got to look at the house while I sat with the kids at the curb of the street and helped Alessandro "get his yuckies out." We didn't know what was going on with him, but I asked Paul to take the girls and go with the realtor to see the rest of the tour while I headed back to Grandma's. Not only could I clean the little guy and his stuff up, but I could keep him separated from everyone else a bit longer.
Even thought we got him cleaned up, he needed at least one more bath at home before he fell asleep. The sequestering starts.

Day 2: I'm worried about how often this guy is getting sick. He started a fever and I think about H1N1....tamiflu is on my mind so I call my pediatrician's cell phone. She wants to see him. He's alert, she says, and hasn't yacked all morning. Perhaps it's over. He's got a small amount of fluid in his right ear, nothing painful at this point. Wait it out since the tamiflu can cause vomiting in its own right. That afternoon, the vomiting comes back anyhow. It's so hard to take care of a kid who doesn't yet know what to do when vomiting. At least the girls know to lean over a bed-bowl or toilet -- even a sink. With little Alessandro, he goes wherever he happens to be. You need to have quick reflexes.. and a lot of cleaning detergent.

Day 3: Vomiting continues with a vengeance! He can't keep anything down - it goes out on either end. To make things worse, Bettina picks up a fever. I go to town at the pharmacy. Not only is it the last day of the year (have to spend the Flexible Savings), but my friend Patti tells me her drama in trying to care for her boys while spending 4-hours on her own bathroom floor! Her advice: Immodium and ginger ale for Mommy.

Day 4: Ava's picked up a fever, too. Neither girl is having the GI troubles BB has, however, Daddy suffers a little. My hands are chapped from washing them and everything else so much and I'm doing like 4-loads of laundry a day to keep up with the infected clothes and linens. Alessandro won't let me out of his sight. He has to be physically touching me or he complains. Poor muffin! Our house has the constant disjunct music of coughing in 5 different keys. It's hard for anyone to sleep uninterrupted.

Day 5: I contemplate calling the dr on a Sunday morning of a 4-day weekend. Little Man hasn't had a wet diaper and will not drink near enough. He gave up on the Pedialyte yesterday, and now won't even do juice. I even offer him soda. Although, he does have a small appetite....but only for a few bites of pumpkin pie! More and more laundry. I spend the night skimming medical pages on the internet and believe that Little Man must have the rotavirus. It is supposed to last up to 8-days!! Oh, Lord, give me the strength!

Day 6: This is the first day in 5 he hasn't thrown up!! Paul complains about having to go to work when he's not feeling well. I stare at him with distain and well as the panic that pleads, "Please don't leave me here all by myself!!" As he leaves, he realizes he's got the better end of the stick and stops complaining. I call in the dr's when they open and they want to see ALL of them right away. I load everyone up (which is a feat in it's own: everyone wants to be carried, everyone's whining and crying about being too hot/cold, etc) into the car and try to start it. The impossible happens - the engine won't turn over!! I am livid! However, a friendly neighbor helps me jump the car and we're only 7-minutes late. The dr agrees the baby's dehydrated and wags her finger at me for not calling yesterday. Although he's alert, is interested in the toys and can handle a fair amount of mobility, he's dropped 3-lbs (13% of his body weight) and his capillary refill is a little slow - on the cusp of needing an IV for hydration. He also has a slight ear infection. Bettina has a raging ear infection - one that the dr wants me to see it's so bad. Not only is the ear inflamed and red with puss behind it, but it also has a pimple on it that shows there's even more infection waiting. She can't believe that Bettina's not complaining of the pain. "Does your ear hurt?" we ask her. She shakes her head no. "You've got a stoic one here," she informs me. Like I didn't already know. Both the girls' coughs lead the dr. to lend out the nebulizer. Bettina 3-4 times/day; Ava 1-2 times/day. I admit to her my worry yesterday and my reservations about calling on a Sunday. I'm informed that on the Richer scale, I'm an under-reactor. I'm jokingly given a "prescription" to call her anytime I am mildly thinking about calling her. She also wants to see a wet diaper from the boy by the afternoon or I'm to go to the clinic and get him an IV. She also wants me to get both liquid and salt into his system anyway possible - so I take him to McDonalds...he can't resist the fries or sipping off my Diet Coke. I have slight luck with the Diet Coke, but none with the fries. Even the girls, who have fallen asleep in the car in their own feverish realms (I don't dare enter any restaurant - especially one with a playland), refuse to eat much...but they of course enjoy the Alvin and the Chipmonk toys! By 3pm, there is still no wet diaper, so I go to the clinic expecting to get an IV. However, the doctor there veto's the IV and instead asks me to squirt 5ccs of liquid every 15-20 minutes for the next 2 days or until BB drinks properly on his own. I'm stewing a bit wondering if this young doctor has ever had 3 sick kids to take care of all by himself with all the laundry, floor mopping, sanitizing and custom cooking that goes along with it...are you kidding? Every 15-20 minutes?? But, he also give a little anti-nausea medicine which seems to do the trick. The kids hungry for the eggs and ham (??) Paul makes for dinner and he drinks a whole can on ginger ale over the course of 2-hours and falls asleep. Both girls fall asleep early, but with mid-fevers, still. They both sleep restlessly so, like the rest of the past 6 nights, so do I.

Day 7: Everyone sleeps until 8am!! The girls have broken their fevers, everyone has slight appetites and LO AND BEHOLD: Baby Brother makes 3 wet diapers!! I'm hopeful that we're on the back end. I can finally take them out to run a few quick errand, we check on Misty, and get everything ready to go to school tomorrow!! Thank goodness! I will get some downtime tomorrow! I think I'll go to the gym and take a much needed steam bath.....and now, to get to bed before 11pm! Nighty-night.

Suddenly, 40 Doesn't Seem to be the New 30....

I didn't have a problem turning 40 this year. I've believed, like most, that because we waited longer to get married and have children, essentially doing everything our parents had been doing in their 30's, that we were a young and vivacious as our parents. I had no concerns - only celebrations - around the black "over the hill" day.

That all changed at my last OB/Gyn appointment. Chatting with my doctor, she gave me the requisiton for a mammagram. "Now you're old enough to start going to these lovely procedures," she congratulated me. Whoa! I suddenly realize the obvious.... can I really be THAT old....shucks.

Our Holidays in a Blur

...Because a blur was how it really happened. How did it get to be 2010? However, we have the pictures to prove it - Christmas pageants where the girls were angels at one church and a sheep, cow and singers in another; parties at our house, Grandma's house, Sylvia's, polka dancing at the Monte Cristo; rich foods, special treats, wrapping paper, chaos, toys, thank you cards. Bettina's favorite gift? a digital camera, Ava's? a stuffed chinchilla, Alessandro's? a basketball set.
Lots of fun, celebrations and late nights. Santa came, left presents, ate his cookies and even drank his egg nog. A memorable month, indeed.

Too bad we had to start 2010 with a very sick kid. Alessandro finally appears to be coming off of a truly horrific stomach bug. Laundry, laundry everywhere, but not one item clean. On New Year's Day, Bettina came down with a fever, but no real menacing bug yet (fingers crossed!).