Alexander talks up a storm all day, every day, and he’s getting better at pronouncing words properly all the time. He no longer says “Huppa-cotter” for helicopter or “Boo-mint truck” for cement truck. And long gone are the days of insisting a monkey is called a “bacon.” Despite the dwindling adorable mispronunciations, the kid still makes us laugh every day with the things that come out of his mouth. Here are a few of my recent favorites.
After eating pizza, all the while exclaiming how much he likes it, and even asking for seconds and thirds: “Why did you make pizza? I wanted a hot dog.”
Whenever he sees me wearing a skirt: “Oh, Mommy! You look like a princess!”
When something doesn’t go exactly as planned: “That’s okay. Sometimes that happens.”
When I tell him he’s a silly bean: “No, I’m not a bean. I’m just Alexander.”
When he’s pretending to be a frog and I tell him he’s doing some good hopping: “I think you mean, ‘Good hopping, Mister Frog.’”
When we left his cousin Maeta’s house one day: “We need to get a crane and pick up Maeta’s house and put it next to my house.”
About Emily: “Aw, what a cute little baby!”
I had to help Alexander go potty at a neighbor’s house and asked the neighbor to hold Emily while I took A. to the bathroom. When we came back out, he walked straight up to the neighbor (who he’d just met) and said, “Now can we please have our baby back?”
One day we were getting out of the car, and I said “Hi, pretty girl” to Emily as I unbuckled her. Alexander asked me, “Are you getting the pretty girl?”
When we drive past the hospital. Seriously, every single time: “Oh, there’s the building! That’s where you guys got Baby Sister out of your tummy. And now you can carry me!” (The most important part of this story is the fact that I can carry Alexander now that Baby Sister is finally out of my tummy.)
Referring to his tears after he’s been crying: “There’s crying in my eyes.”
When he spotted some dandelions on the way to the park: “Oh! Look at these lovely flowers!”
Several times while we were swimming on the Fourth of July: “What a beautiful day at the pool!”
He is constantly narrating his own life, and he gleefully tells everyone what he’s doing, usually punctuating each word with an excited jump. One night we were out to dinner and I had to take him to the bathroom. There was a man outside the bathroom, waiting for his daughter, and Alexander proudly informed him, “We’re going potty!”
At bedtime, he asked me to tell him a story about Santa, Aladdin, Clifford, and a monkey. So I started with, “Once upon a time, Aladdin and Clifford went to the North Pole…” He interrupted “Yeah! And then we took off our clothes and went swimming! We went swimming in the North Pool!”
A few weeks ago, we went to a kids’ festival sponsored by Rocky Mountain PBS, and Alexander got to meet Super Why.
It was basically the best day of his life, as evidenced by his ear-to-ear grin.
Later that night, totally out of the blue, Alexander exclaimed critically, “Hey! That Super Why didn’t have a Why Writer!” (We assured him that Super Why’s friend Alpha Pig was probably holding his Why Writer for him so he’d have both hands free to give Alexander hugs.)
Alexander is totally obsessed with Aladdin lately, and he requests viewings of “The Genie Show” on a near-daily basis. Every night at bedtime, we get to tell “The Aladdin Story,” highlighting his favorite parts of the movie (mostly centered around the Cave of Wonders; that boy loves the Cave of Wonders) and usually starring Alexander in the role of Aladdin’s Best Friend. (Sometimes Mommy, Daddy, and/or Emily get to be in the story, too.) Frequently, after I tell the Aladdin story, Alexander says “Now it’s my turn!” And then something like this happens:
Transcript: Once upon a time, there was a boy named Aladdin, and his friend, Daddy! And they did the “One-Step” dance and got some bread. And then they went to the Cave of Wonders. And the Cave of Wonders said, “Who disturbs my slumber?” And they said, “It is I, Aladdin.” And– and– “It is I, Daddy.” And they went into the Cave of Wonders, and they found a magic carpet, and a magic lamp, and then that– Abu, that silly monkey, touched the Forbidden Treasure. So they went down the slide. And then, the magic carpet saved them from the hot stuff on the ground. And then a genie came outside. And the Genie said, “You get wishes!” And Daddy said, “I wish to be a rabbit!” And the Genie said, “Poof! You’re a rabbit.” And the Genie turned Aladdin into a train! And the Genie said, “Poof! You’re a train.” And then they stomped off to the palace. And then, the– Oh. I guess I didn’t say the soaked part. I guess they did not get soaked.* They stomped off to the palace, and then they stomped back to the palace, and they lived happily after. The end!
As you can see, not all of the adorable mispronunciations are a thing of the past. He is such a cute little stinker.
*The “soaked part” refers to the part of the movie where Jafar has Aladdin (a/k/a Prince Ali Ababwa) thrown into the sea. Usually when Alexander is telling the story, he emphasizes, “And then Pwince Ali Bwa Bwa got soaked!” He’s very concerned about the fact that our story’s hero gets all wet and needs dry clothes.
Somehow, Emily is three months old already. I can’t believe it. Weren’t we just bringing her home from the hospital yesterday?
This past month has been one of adjustment for all of us. Tim started his summer break, Alexander dropped down to part-time daycare for the summer, and I went back to work, leaving Tim at home to wrangle the kids during the week. It’s been great overall; being away from my family has been difficult for me, but I take comfort in knowing they’re all having a great time together. And, I gotta say, the best thing in the world is when, the moment I come home from work, Emily flashes me one of her great big grins. She’s been doing that since my first day of work, and it makes my heart burst every single day. It feels good knowing she’s so happy to see me.
Emily took her first trip to the zoo this month to celebrate her cousin Johnny’s first birthday. I was at work that day, but Tim reports that Emily slept through the majority of her first zoo experience. (Alexander had a blast, though.)
Tim has proven himself to be Super Dad over the past month. With Alexander only going to daycare a couple days per week and Emily home all the time, he’s on his own with both kids the majority of the time. When I was home with just Emily, I was lucky to get myself showered and fed; if I did a load or two of laundry I considered it a productive day. Tim, on the other hand, frequently gets both kids out of the house to do fun things (zoo, pool, park, pancake breakfast, etc.) and also manages to have the house straightened up by the time I get home at least once a week. These kids are lucky to have him home with them.
Emily started sleeping through the night this month, too, which has been amazing. I’ve figured out that she can sleep for about 7-8 hours at a stretch at night. Sometimes she falls asleep early in the evening, and it’s impossible to wake her up and get her to eat when we go to bed later, which means she’s awake and hungry between 2 and 3am. But if she happens to wake up and eat when we go to bed around 9:30, she usually won’t wake up to eat again until 5am. Since my alarm goes off at 5:15, this works out pretty perfectly for me. I get to start my day with baby snuggles before dragging myself out of bed to get ready for work. And then she goes back to sleep for a few more hours, allowing Tim to stay in bed until Alexander gets up at 7. It’s a pretty good system.
Every night, without fail, she wiggles and squirms until she’s wedged herself sideways in the co-sleeper next to our bed. I can’t imagine it’s comfortable, but she seems to prefer it. Whatever; if she’s sleeping, I’m happy.
She doesn’t just wiggle at night; she loves to move all day long, too. She can easily roll herself from her back up on to her side, and she uses this trick to spin herself in circles. She’ll roll up to her side, wiggle, and plop down on her back, having rotated a few degrees to the left. She does it over and over again, turning in a full circle in the space of about 10 minutes. She also wiggles her way off her playmat pretty frequently. This girl has places to go, and she’s not about to let a little thing like an inability to crawl stand in her way.
Emily wasn’t going to have a three-month well-check, but she ended up going to the doctor on her three-month birthday to get a rash checked out (she’s fine), so we got some bonus three-month measurements. (Tim wrangled both kids to the pediatrician and then to the grocery store to pick up Emily’s prescription. Super Dad, seriously.) At her two-month checkup, she was just a hair over 11 pounds. At three-months, she weighed in at 12.3 pounds and 23 inches long. She’s gained nearly a pound and a half in the past month! Apparently she has no complaints about eating from a bottle while I’m at work.
It’s been a wonderful nine years.
Emily’s first month has been so different from what I remember of Alexander’s first month. There are the obvious reasons, of course, related to having two kids instead of one, but overall I just feel so much better this time around. My recovery has been easier (although I’m struggling more with lingering baby weight preventing me from fitting into even my biggest non-maternity pants, but let’s try not to dwell on that) and, despite being exhausted pretty much all the time, the newborn days are just so much easier when you’ve been through them before. (Thanks, Captain Obvious.)
I remember, with Alexander, being so scared of doing anything with him by myself. If he needed a bath, for example, I always waited until Tim was home and could help me make sure I didn’t bump his fragile, slippery little head on the side of the baby tub, accidentally drown him, etc. I think A. was probably a couple months old, at least, before I dared give him a bath by myself, and even then I was terrified of accidentally breaking him.
I’ve had no such hesitation with Emily; five-and-a-half weeks in, and I’ve given her almost every bath on my own without fear. (This is not to say that Tim doesn’t help; he does help, a lot. It’s just easy for me to bathe Emily during the day when Tim’s at work and A’s at daycare, so that’s when I do it.) It’s a good thing, too, because Little Miss likes to spit up all over me some mornings (luckily only on mornings when I was already planning to give her a bath), and we’d have long, stinky days ahead of us if I waited until Tim was home to bathe her.
The occasional epic milkbarf aside (she doesn’t spit up often, but when she does, it gets everywhere), Emily’s completely wonderful. She’s growing like crazy, as babies tend to do. She doesn’t have her 1-month check up until next week (on her 6-week birthday…oops. Apparently I’m not as good at scheduling timely well-checks this time around), but a non-scientific check on our scale at home puts her right around 10 pounds already.
It shouldn’t surprise me, seeing as how she’s a great eater and has grown out of a lot of newborn-sized clothes, but it still blows my mind that she’s gained nearly 4 pounds in just a month.
She’s strong, too. She can hold her head up on her own for several seconds at a time, and she does some pretty impressive push-ups during tummy time.
I get the feeling she’s going to be an early crawler; whenever I lay her down on her play mat, I can tell she’s frustrated about not being able to move. She tries to roll over, works her arms and legs like crazy, and squawks in frustration when she can’t get to a toy that’s just out of her reach. She really wants to move.
Emily’s spending more and more time awake every day, and it’s so much fun to see her little personality develop. She’s getting more alert and expressive, and I love seeing her little eyes light up when she sees something she likes and/or recognizes.
The other day, a friend was holding her while I chased Alexander around the house, and when Emily heard my voice as I walked by, she immediately arched her back and twisted her head to look in my direction. For her, it was probably just a moment of, “Hey! I just heard the Milk Lady walk by! Come back, Milk Lady!” But for me, it was a very cool moment of, “My daughter recognizes my voice!”
She’s an okay sleeper, and overall, the newborn sleep-deprivation has been easier for me to deal with this time than it was with Alexander. However, I’m also impatient to be done with this multiple-wake-ups-per-night phase. I have to keep reminding myself that it’s only been a month, and it’s actually pretty good that I’m getting about 3 hours of sleep at a time. But, man, I’m really looking forward to some 5-6 hour stretches of sleep.
Alexander continues to be the world’s best big brother, and he melts our hearts every day with how sweet he is with his baby sister. He asks a lot of questions about her and loves telling us everything he knows about babies. He frequently comments on her tiny, adorable feet, then reminds me to feed her lots of milk so she can grow big like him. If we ask her a question, Alexander will pipe up with, “Her doesn’t know how to talk yet,” in a tone that implies we should stop wasting our breath asking her questions she can’t answer. This doesn’t stop him from talking to her and asking her questions, of course, but he’s awfully quick to correct us. He also constantly brings her toys to play with, and gives her hugs and kisses every chance he gets. I know they won’t always get along perfectly, but I’m so excited to watch their friendship develop. Emily’s very lucky to have Alexander as her big brother.
Here she is on her one-month birthday:
She’s an awfully cute little munchkin. I think we’ll keep her.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
5:30 AM: Tim’s alarm goes off, but he’s not there to start his usual round of hitting snooze every 5 minutes for 40 minutes. Alexander woke up several times in the night complaining of bad dreams (we will not be reading Where the Wild Things Are at bedtime again), and around 3:00 Tim gave up and slept in Alexander’s room with him for the rest of the night…or morning, I guess. I lay in bed, trying to summon the energy it will take to haul my massive self over to Tim’s side of the bed to turn off his alarm, but apparently it snoozes itself automatically because eventually it stops. Five minutes later the alarm goes off again. I continue to ignore it, alternating between trying to get a few more minutes of sleep (my alarm doesn’t go off until 6:30; you can imagine how pleased I am to have Tim’s alarm waking me up an hour earlier than necessary most mornings) and contemplating how I’m going to wake Tim up without disturbing Alexander, who is finally sleeping.
6:00 AM: Turns out I needn’t have worried about Tim waking up on time, because I hear Alexander ask for milk over the monitor. I flick the screen on and see Tim getting out of Alexander’s bed. A few minutes later, they appear in the master bedroom doorway, and Tim deposits Alexander and his sippy cup in bed next to me, and stumbles into the bathroom to take a shower. We don’t say much to each other; there’s no need. It’s been a long night, we’re not morning people, and we’re both exhausted. I try futilely to get a few more minutes of sleep while Alexander drinks his milk, but all too quickly he’s holding his empty sippy cup in my face saying “That was good!” And then he’s climbing all over me, ready to play.
6:20 AM: I give up on sleep and take a shower. Alexander comes into the bathroom with me, but soon he’s starting to throw my shoes all over the closet, and when I tell him to stop, he refuses. Tim’s still getting dressed, so he helps corral the kiddo, kisses me goodbye, and takes A. to the playroom to hang out while I get showered and dressed.
6:33 AM: I get out of the shower and hear my alarm going off on my nightstand. I turn it off, wondering why I even bother to set an alarm, seeing as how I rarely get to sleep til 6:30 most days anyway.
6:34 AM: From the playroom down the hall I hear “Daddy! DAAAADDDDYYY!!” I can hear Tim downstairs making his breakfast and getting ready to head out the door, so I go ask Alexander what he needs. “I need Caillou!” I hunt around for the remote, then sit on the couch for the few minutes it takes to start Netflix and scroll through the menu to find the requested show. Alexander giggles and asks “Why you wearing this towel shirt, Mommy?” and I explain that I just got out of the shower and still need to get dressed. The show starts, and I leave Alexander sitting on the floor, happily singing along to the opening song.
7:00 AM: Once I’m finished getting dressed, putting on makeup, and drying my hair, I head to the playroom and start negotiating with Alexander about getting him dressed. He holds up his magnadoodle and requests I draw an elephant. I tell him I’ll draw him an elephant after he gets dressed, but he doesn’t want to leave the playroom. We eventually agree that I will bring clothes into the playroom and he can get dressed in there, which I’m happy to do because it means I get to pick his clothes instead of waiting five minutes for him to select undies, waiting another several minutes for him to pick a pair of pants, then holding him in front of his closet for another five minutes while he decides on a shirt. I quickly select some clothes and start getting him dressed, all the while assuring him that he cannot stay in his pajamas today, much as he’d like to. “Can I stay in my jammies just a few more minutes?” Nope, time to put your jeans on. “But can I stay in these just a little bit longer? Pretty, pretty, pretty please?” Sorry, bud, jammies off, jeans on. Once he’s dressed, I draw him an elephant, as promised. A deal’s a deal.
7:10 AM: We head downstairs, and I pop a couple waffles in the toaster. Alexander asks for a banana (“I want a banna!”), so I let him pick which one he wants and peel it for him. I make myself a peanut-butter-and-jelly waffle sandwich and enjoy a couple quiet minutes while we both eat. Then it’s time to wrestle shoes and jackets on — it’s a struggle to get A to hold still long enough to put his shoes and jacket on most days; today he’s busy hopping “Like a kangaroo!” and trying to flip his mini armchair over to make a cave. I plop down in a chair and struggle to bend over far enough to tie my own shoes — my 34+ week belly is making this sort of task pretty cumbersome. Just as I’m opening my mouth to tell Alexander he needs to try to go potty before we leave, he announces “I need to go potty!” and races down the hall to the bathroom. Great timing, kiddo.
7:20 AM: I buckle Alexander into his carseat then gather my purse and the dog, and we’re out the door. Today Smalls is coming with us because I have to drop her off at the vet for her semi-annual checkup and teeth cleaning. Alexander is delighted to have her in the car with us and talks to her the whole way to daycare. “Smalls is in hers seat! But Ben is not. Ben staying home.” “Smalls is happy! Her is a happy girl.” “Lookit all the cars, ‘Malls! You don’t have to be afraid. It’s just the cars driving on the road.” “*Gasp!* A blue truck! I’ve never seen a blue truck ‘afore.” Usually he spends the drive to daycare watching for “Boo-mint Trucks!” (cement trucks), but today Smalls has all of his attention.
7:30 AM: We pull up at Linda, our daycare provider’s house — “That’s Ninna’s house!” — and I take Alexander inside. After giving Alexander a big hug and kiss goodbye, I go back to the car and drop Smalls off at the vet before heading back home. Now that Alexander’s not in the car, I turn on my current audio book, The Dream Thieves. I’m enjoying the book quite a bit and am glad to have a little extra driving time to listen this morning.
8:00 AM: I get back home, pausing for a few minutes in the garage to listen to the end of a riveting scene in the book. Ben greets me at the door happily, though I think he’s confused about why I haven’t brought Smalls back home with me. I log on to my work computer and sort through my emails. I thought I had a conference call followed immediately by a webinar training this morning, but I see the conference call has been rescheduled to next week, so I have a little more time than expected to get my own work done before the training. I touch base with a couple of coworkers about our plans to meet for lunch after the training, then settle in to do a couple hours of editing.
8:00 AM to Noon: Work, work, work, with occasional breaks to put on a load of toddler laundry (after which I add detergent to next week’s grocery list), make coffee (I’m relieved to remember Tim did the dishes last night so my favorite travel mug is clean; I still use a travel mug even though I work from home since I’m a slow coffee drinker, and the travel mug keeps it warm longer than a regular mug), have a snack (I’m craving protein after my sugary breakfast, so I toss some buffalo chicken tenders in the oven. At 10 AM. Shut up, it’s totally a normal mid-morning snack), and check Twitter and Facebook. Work’s not super busy this early in the month, but I’m working on a project for another department while my main workload is light, and I have a company-wide training session at 11:00 AM, so the breaks are few and far between.
12:05 PM: I meet up for lunch with a few coworkers (the handful of us who were lucky enough to keep our jobs and work from home after company-wide layoffs resulted in our local office being shut down at the end of January) at a new-to-me Vietnamese restaurant. The restaurant is okay, nothing to write home about, but it’s nice to see my coworkers face-to-face and have an actual conversation instead of just sending emails back and forth.
1:00 PM: The restaurant we ate at is just down the street from Sprouts, an organic grocery store, so I swing by there on my way home to pick up some of their frozen chiles rellenos for dinner. Tim and I both love these rellenos, but we don’t make it to Sprouts very often, so eating them is a rare treat. Today is the last of three long days of Tim proctoring state-standardized testing, and I know he’s worn out from it, so I’m excited to surprise him with one of his favorite dinners tonight. The grocery store is crazy busy, considering it’s the middle of a week day, and I do my best to get in and out as quickly as possible, then head home to finish my work day.
2:10 PM: Just as I’m getting to the point in the day where I start to fret that I haven’t heard from the vet and wonder if I should be worried, the vet calls to tell me Smalls is finished with her teeth cleaning and recovering well from the anesthesia. They’d like to keep an eye on her for a couple of hours, which is standard procedure, so we arrange for me to come pick her up at 4:45.
2:30 PM: My boss calls and we chat for a bit about work, kids, and pregnancies (she’s due a few weeks after me). It’s so nice having a boss whom I not only respect but also count among my friends.
2:58 PM: The internet goes down, because of course it does. Luckily, just as I’m about to trundle down to the basement to unplug and re-plug in the router (sometimes that helps), the connection flicks back on again.
3:03 PM: Ben’s incessant barking alerts me to the fact that it must be 3:00-ish and therefore the end of the school day at the neighborhood school. He’s going to bark at the kids walking home on the path behind our house for the next 40 minutes no matter what, so I let him out the back door so he can run up and down the fence, barking to his heart’s content, and I can continue to work in peace. Sorry, kids.
3:05 PM: Work’s still not busy, so I work on finalizing the details of my maternity leave…as much as I can, anyway, given the multitude of unknowns I have to work around. Since I plan to work right up until the baby is born, I obviously don’t know the exact date my leave will start, but my manager and I have been through this before, so we have a pretty good plan in place to distribute my workload to the rest of the editing team at a moment’s notice if need be. On top of that, though, some major changes in my company — both recent and soon-to-come — mean that my insurance benefits and paid time off may (or may not) be changing sometime before (or soon after) my leave begins. So I plan as much as I can based on my current benefits and PTO allotment, take a lot of deep breaths, and remind myself that there’s only so much I can control and everything will work itself out somehow.
3:30 PM: I’m hungry again (still, always) so I go rummage in the kitchen for a snack (cookie or granola bar? better go with both), then quickly put away the load of toddler laundry I washed earlier, depositing a pair of too-short jeans he wore earlier this week into the box I keep next to the dryer for clothes he’s outgrown. Putting Alexander’s laundry away goes much faster when he’s not around to “help,” and it’s only a few minutes before I’m back at my desk.
4:15 PM: I hear the garage door open, which means Tim and Alexander are home. I keep an eye on my office window eagerly anticipating one of my favorite parts of the day: watching the two of them walk hand-in-hand to the mailbox down the street. Those two are stinkin’ adorable. But apparently they’re not getting the mail today, as they immediately come inside instead. Oh, well. I head down the hall to say hi to them and find Alexander crying in the time-out chair. Apparently he was a stinker all day at daycare and then wasn’t listening to Tim when he picked him up. So that’s why they didn’t go get the mail. Meanwhile, Tim sees the chiles rellenos defrosting on the counter and is pleased. Tim and I briefly discuss our days and he fills me in on Alexander’s daycare shenanegins. Alexander promises to do a better job listening, and he’s allowed out of time out.
4:20 PM: As soon as A. gets out of time out, he asks to go outside and go to the park. Tim tells him they can maybe go to the park if Alexander can show him he can be a good listener. “But I need to go to the park!” Alexander protests. After a few minutes of debate, Tim offers Alexander a deal: If they go upstairs and clean the playroom, then they can go to the park. Alexander reluctantly agrees, and they head up to the playroom while I go do a few more minutes of work before leaving to pick up Smalls from the vet.
5:00 PM: Smalls and I are home from the vet, and Ben is overjoyed to see his little sister again. I log back in to my work computer to see what I missed while picking Smalls up, and am pleased to see the email reminding me that it’s payday. I do a bit more work before going upstairs to hang out with my boys in the playroom.
5:30 PM: Alexander and I play while Tim talks to his sister on the phone. Alexander’s in a much better mood, and we have a great time together. He has quite the imagination, and it’s so much fun to watch him pretend as he plays. The boys never did make it to the park; Alexander finished cleaning the playroom, but then Tim’s sister called, and he was on the phone with her until after the sun went down. Still, Tim tells Alexander what a good job he did listening and cleaning the playroom, and promises to take him to the park tomorrow.
6:20 PM: We all go downstairs, and Alexander drinks some milk on the couch and watches cartoons while Tim and I fry up our rellenos.
6:45 PM: We sit down to dinner together, even though I know it means Alexander’s 7pm bedtime will need to be pushed back a bit. I’m not sure if he’ll like a chile relleno, so I put a few bites of one on his plate along with some apple slices and Spanish rice, which is usually a favorite. He ignores the rice completely, eats all of his apples, and begrudgingly tries one bite of relleno before declaring that he doesn’t like it. I’m more than happy to finish off his uneaten relleno because he’s crazy and it’s delicious. After dinner he runs around the table tickling everyone — Daddy and Mommy, and even Smalls and Ben, who begrudgingly tolerate it — and then he and Tim make a game of crawling upstairs together to go brush his teeth and get ready for bed.
7:15 PM: The toddler bedtime routine at our house looks like this: I lay out jammies and a pull-up while Tim helps Alexander brush his teeth and go potty. Together, Tim and I wrestle a very squirmy toddler into his PJs, then Alexander picks out two books to read with me in bed. He asks for “The Monster Book,” a/k/a Where the Wild Things Are, but I tell him that book’s not in his room, and we have to pick books that are in his room. Luckily he doesn’t press the issue, and instead picks two books about being a big brother and getting ready to welcome a new baby into the family. After reading, he asks to go potty again, so I take him but tell him after this it’s straight to bed. Of course, as soon as we get back to his room, tun the lights off, and turn his star nightlight on (the nightlight has three color options, and he loves picking which color to turn on: “I’m gonna pick! Purple stars!”) (He always picks purple), he asks to go potty again. He’s learned that he can use going potty to delay bedtime, and I’m not playing his game tonight. I tell him no, which doesn’t go over so well, but eventually he calms down and settles into bed. “Lay next to me,” he requests, as always, and I do, as always. Out of nowhere, he throws his arm over me and declares “You’re my best friend!” and my heart immediately melts. I tell him he’s my best friend too and I love him very much. “No, you just a friend,” he says, to which I can’t help but laugh. Could this kid get any better? We cuddle for a few more minutes, trading hugs and kisses in exchange for me staying with him “Just another minute.” Eventually I get up and leave, pausing at the door to tell him, “Goodnight, Alexander. I love you.” “Goodnight, Mommy. Wuv you too.”
7:45 PM: I come back downstairs to find Tim on the couch watching a house-flipping show in which I have zero interest. I work on drafting this post while he finishes the show, then we watch the season 2 finale of House of Cards, followed by the latest Modern Family to lighten things up a bit. This is our time to unwind together, and we are happy to veg on the couch with a couple of good shows before succumbing to our own exhaustion and going to bed.
9:40 PM: Teeth brushed, face washed, in bed. Tim and I spend a few minutes talking about our days, as usual, then I heave my giant self over to my side of the bed, arrange various pillows around my belly to help me stay comfortable (a nearly impossible task these days), and drift off to sleep, hoping Alexander will let us sleep all night. (He doesn’t, choosing instead to wake up every few hours complaining about having a stuffy nose and wanting to go to the park. Apparently he’s decided that sleeping through the night is overrated.)