Oh, brother.

Matthew and Cole have had an interesting relationship.  Historically, I've always felt like Matthew was annoying to Cole. I feel like they fought a lot.  I have often said to Cole, "You are eight years older than him," or "He's four. You're twelve," or whatever the age they were when they were fighting.  But suddenly, it's not like that.

Cole has started talking about his future.  His current plans include leaving us after high school.  Like, really leaving.  And we'll encourage him to chase his dreams, and be all that he can be (ahem. subtle hint.).  Whatever he decides.  But then, tonight, I had this realization:  His leaving is going to crush Matthew.  It is going to be very, very hard for him.

They have become such good friends.  If you walk into my house at any given time, you might see Cole doing arm curls with Matthew in his arms (he calls it his Home Gym).  You will see them wrestling (and the baby freaking out because she hates rough play).  You will see them on the trampoline.  And however you find them, you will find Matthew in fits of hysterics.  He's a stoic kid, primarily.  But he thinks his big brother is HILARIOUS.

I was thinking of it through Matthew's eyes.  You're eight years old.  Your big brother is 16, has muscles, sometimes has girls over, and he burps super loud.  He comes up with ridiculous nicknames for you, and regularly calls you "sweetheart," and refers to you and your little brother as "ladies."  "Good night, ladies," he'll say to them, "Sleep well!"  You just might have a love affair with your ever-teasing big brother.  

I guess this realization, while difficult, might be preparing me too.  I know how fast the next two years will go.  I know the changes we'll go through during them.  I know that we have to start preparing for the bird to leave the nest.  Change is inevitable.  It's exciting.  It's hard.  Pulling deep into this mother's heart to remember that they'll be brothers first, and brothers forever.

What Matters Most

I used to be single.  I used to be bored, and wonder if I was going to have a family of my own.  And then, suddenly, I woke up and I have all these crazy little loves in my life.  And luck and good fortune and blessings hardly begin to describe it.

One Day

One day,

I won't have to yell at them for poking holes in their shirts with a pencil.

I won't have to search half the morning for the bathroom trash can which someone needed to flip over and use for a stepstool in the toy closet.

They won't cut hunks of their own hair off.

I won't step on their toys all damn day.

We won't go through band-aids on fake wounds as fast as we go through milk.

I will sleep as late as I want on the weekends.

I won't "count to three" as often.

I will forget all the words to "Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun."

But that day,

They won't believe in Fairy Dust.

They will be too big to sit on my lap, and they'll have moved beyond Junie B. Jones and Dr. Seuss.

My house will be quiet with their absence, because they will stop believing that they want to marry me, and they'll find some other girl.

So today,

I'll hug them and love them and try to be patient with their deafening noise levels.

I will allow them to play Marching Band and Ninjas and wrestle in the living room.

I'll giggle watching them walk down the street after school as they climb every snowbank and step in every puddle.

I'll cook and I'll clean and I'll teach. I'll hold and I'll comfort and I'll sooth fake owies.

And I'll pray every minute of every day that "one day" takes its sweet time.

Valentine's Day

Matthew has started to understand the basics of phonics. Mmmm.....iii...iii....llll....kkk. M-i-l-k. Milk! It's really fun to watch. I love all aspects of learning, but this one -- this one is super cool, dude. The whole world opens up. Last year, he had to write his name on all his Valentine's and it was a f-i-g-h-t (try that one with the silent letters, tough guy!). This year, he studiously wrote out 19 Valentines for his party next week, sounding out most of the names as he went. Awesome.

He learned how to play...

...Uno.  And now, that's all we do around here. 

Family Guy

I was reminded on facebook today about a story I really need to write down and remember.

Matty was about two and a half; Jack was a baby.  It was a Sunday evening in the fall; we had been watching the Vikings game, but it had ended.  I was in the kitchen, baking, and Cory was playing on the dining room floor with Jack.  I suddenly noticed that Matty was standing next to the recliner, leaning into it with his elbow intently watching an episode of Family Guy that had come on after the game.

I freaked out.
"Cory!  Change the channel!  Look what Matty's watching!"

Matthew sauntered into the kitchen, looks at me and says, "Mommy!  Me and Poppa watch this show when you're not here!"

Uh huh.  Really?  Cory and I exchanged some glances (mine, furious; his; embarassed).

A couple hours later, I was on the computer downstairs.  Matty clearly wasn't done talking about it.  He stood next to my desk, put his hand on his hips and said:

"Mommy.  When you're here, you change the channel.  When Poppa's here, we watch that show.  OKAY?" 

I had to tell him, behind my hands to hide my laughter, that he wasn't the boss and that show is never appropriate for children.

He crossed his arms, gave me a "hmph" and stormed out.

It hasn't happened again.  Now that he's old enough to tattle.  :D

Fall Photo

The teenager, the fivester, the threester and a stick.  Oh, how I love my boys.

These Boys

They make me smile.
They make me nuts.
Their innocence humbles me.
They ask me hard questions.
They give me easy answers.
They see things I don't see.
They trust me.
They have so much to learn.
They are good friends that fight alot.
They are my Purpose.
I love them.

Halloween

This year's costumes.

Jack was going to be a puppy, but fell in love with this skeleton costume at Kmart.  And since it was 50% off, I let him get it.  He might be the cutest skeleton ever.  He said his mask was "stinky" but wouldn't take it off. 

Matty first wanted to be the Scream ghost, then a ninja, but fell in love with this Transformer costume...evidently is Bumblebee, but I didn't know the he had ever seen Transformers and knew who Bumblebee was (am I already losing touch with my children??)

Cole wasn't going to dress up, but we convinced him to do a pirate costume.  I don't think this even looks like him.  He's such a cool kid.  (new Cole post coming soon.)



I love my dressed-up boys.  So much.

Just Keep Swimming...

I miss my Halloween babies.  I almost shouldn't pull up old photos because they make me cry.

Matthew -- October 2005 (5 months)

Jack -- October 2007 (6 months)

(startling how similar they looked at this age!)

Happy Halloween!

Hockey Mom

I grew up in a hockey family.  My dad played Old Bucks on Friday nights.  My brothers played in high school.  I watched more Zion (Illinois) ZeeBee's hockey games my sophomore year than my own high school team.  I'm loud in the stands -- so loud, in fact, that my dad stopped sitting by me in or around 1993.  Last year, my mom bought me an LDC hockey sweatshirt for my birthday.  My first one ever.  I love it, even though it has my maiden name on it, which was a happy accident on her part, since I've primarily let my maiden name go (another post for another day...).

I needed to blog about what just happened to me.  It's significant.  Huge.  I became a Hockey Mom.  When Cory and I were dating, I told him I wanted six boys.  A hockey team.  It was a running joke for a long time among those who know us.  We have three boys, and the middle one is now starting his hockey career.

It's time consuming.

It's expensive.  (my estimate, if he plays traveling teams -- by the time he starts high school hockey, we'll have spent between $5,000 on registration fees alone, not including gear or the actual travel expenses.  And that's just one kid. If Jack plays, we're going to have to sell our cars and refinance our home. Oy.)

But it's WICKED FUN.

Seriously, watching my little boy on the ice this weekend, my eyes just teared up.  He's decent on skates, but there's no way to know what his ability will be.  So long as he enjoys playing, I'll spend the time and the money.  There is no comparison to sitting on those bleachers, watching my boy handle a stick for the first time.  I can't even imagine how it's going to feel when he plays a game. 

I am a Hockey Mom.  An answered prayer, one I had completely forgotten about.  Gratitude.

(Now I just gotta figure out a system to air out hockey gear.  Ick.)

Easy to Love. With an L.

These guys fill me up.  Every day.  As hard as life is sometimes, I can count on them for a smile or a hug. 

Matty:  Mom, do you have any tricky letters in your name?
Me:  Well, I have an L...
Matty:  L's are easy. That's just two lines.

I'm glad my name doesn't start with a tricky letter like S.  Or P. 

First Day in Photos

Dear Matthew

Dear Matthew:

Tomorrow you're going to start kindergarten.  And just so we both have a memory of how the day before you started went, I wanted to write you a little note.

You woke up at 7:30 this morning, crawled into bed with me, kissed me on the cheek to wake me up and said, "Mom!  I have to tell you something!  I'm so excited for tomorrow!" 

It probably should have started today.  You and Jack were a handful for me.  Seriously, do you have to throw things at each other ALL day long?  You got Jack good with a Lego and he clonked you with the Leapster.  Enough, boys.  Be kind to each other.

But it didn't.  So we spent the day together.  We went to my office and then we got soup and breadsticks for lunch.  We had to run a couple errands and then we just chilled together tonight. 

When you were in the bath, I brought you two shirts, one green and gray and one red and white and asked you which one you wanted to wear tomorrow.  Exasperated, you replied, "Mom!  I said to get me a new shirt."  You were appeased by my reminding you I got you new pants.  Then you chose the red and white one because "it's awesomer."  It really is, Son, good choice.

I tucked your excited little body into bed and it was your turn to choose the first song.  You chose "Down in my Heart."  ("I've got the JOY down in my heart...I have peace that passes understanding down in my heart...")  Again, excellent choice.  You are going to do just fine in kindergarten; you're a good decision maker.  It was a good day-before-kindergarten, Matthew. 

I got this note in your starting-school packet and it's a good reminder for everyone, so I'm going to share it here.  And with you as your life progresses.

Everything I Ever Really Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten

Most of what I really need to know about how to live, and what to do and how to be, I learned in Kindergarten...

Share everything.
Play fair.
Don't hit people.
Put things back where you found them.
Clean up your own mess.
Don't take things that aren't yours.
Say you're sorry when you hurt someone.
Wash your hands before you eat.
Flush.
Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
Live a balanced life.
Learn some and think some and point and sing and dance and play and work every day.
Take a nap every afternoon.

When you go out into the world, watch for traffic, hold hands and stick together.  Be aware of wonder.  Remember the little seed in the plastic cup. The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that...

-- Robert Fulgham

--------------------------

Good luck tomorrow, Matthew. I'll send you off, and be waiting when they bring you back.  I am so proud of you.

Love,
Momma

The Fivester

I went on a date with this handsome guy today.  It was so fun.  We went to the Mall of America, only to find out every parking ramp was full.  Which equals long lines and chaos, so we left.  We stopped at Target and got a new toy, then hit Red Robin for lunch, and saw the new Nanny McPhee movie.  Oh, then stopped off for a new pair of school shoes. Delightful. I love this child.  So much.

Kindergarten

There are hundred clichés for this milestone:

They grow so quickly.
You blink and they're grown up.
The years pass so quickly.

And they're cliché for a reason:  They're TRUE.  And mothers everywhere agree.

As we near the start of Matty's school career, I am blessed with so many other moms from my online forum of other moms with kids his age. And we're all going through this together.  And all of us are feeling emotional about it.  It's surprised me some initially, actually, that I wasn't the only one feeling so sad. 

I want to keep my Matthew little.  Desperately.  He's a curious, thoughtful child.  I have no doubt he'll grow up to be a wonderful thoughtful man as well, but the need for time to slow down a little physically hurts.  Ask Cory.  He'll attest to my tears.  And it's not his going to school -- that part doesn't make me sad (he is SO ready to use the brain God gave him!).  It's that his time at home with me, these past five years...are over forever.  Thank you to God, the Creator, for giving him to me and allowing me to spend these years with him.  And, my thanks to my gorgeous husband for busting his butt working so hard to support us. I am forever grateful.  So so lucky.

I'll have more photos to share as the week progresses.  Tomorrow night is his open house where he'll meet his teacher and see his classroom.  I'm planning a Momma/Matty day this weekend, and then, next Wednesday is his first day of school.  *sniff* *sniff*  *SOB*

One final one (courtesy of my wise mother):  The days are long, but the years are short.  The truest of them all.

Goodnight Kisses

Every night, I check on the boys before I head downstairs to bed. I always give them a kiss on the cheek and tell them I love them.  They never wake up.  I look down at their sleepy heads and love them deeper and more fully than I do during the day, when we're caught up in the minutiea of our daily lives...the lessons, and the discipline of parent and child.  And they don't wipe that kiss off their cheeks; one of the most rewarding intimacies I share with them.

My friend Amy once told me that when imagining how much God loves them, we can imagine how much we love them and know that God loves them (and us) more than that.  It's almost impossible to comprehend, but it does help give me a visualization of His love. 

Last night in bed, I remembered that. And I had the sudden hope that at the end of the day, when I say my prayers of gratitude and ask for forgiveness for my many shortcomings, that God looks at me like I look at those little boys.  And that I get a kiss on the cheek because He loves me too, in spite of it all.  If He does, I won't wipe that kiss off either.

Our Unexpected Adventure

We had an interesting few days around here.  Matty ended up with a complication from a vaccine he received on Tuesday.  All the test results aren't in, so we're not exactly sure what it was or what caused it, but I thought I'd write down the details while it's fresh in my mind:

Tuesday, June 8:  Matty's five-year well-child check.  He got three shots:  Tetanus, MMR, and DPT.  Two in one thigh and one in the other.  Other than screaming in fear, the shots themself were fairly uneventful.

Tuesday night:  He was complaining of pain in his thigh, but we figured it was regular after-effects of the shots. We gave him Motrin and Tylenol for the pain, didn't think much of it.

Wednesday:  He was in a lot of pain, and complained that it hurt when he walked and said it "burned" between his shots.  I ran out of Ibuprofen.  He was so miserable, I left the boys at Grandma and Grandpas and went to get more. 

Thursday morning:  He told me that he couldn't walk when he first woke up.  I noticed that his thigh was red and hot.  I called his ped's nurses line and they told me to bring him in right away.

10:30 a.m., Thursday:  A pediatrician at our clinic looked at him. She was startled by how huge and red his thigh was.  She explained that it's hard to tell if he was having a local allergic reaction to it and was worried it was an infection.  In most cases, evidently, the symptoms of an infection don't set in until a couple days after the vaccine, but she was uncomfortable enough that they gave him a shot of antibiotics in his other thigh.  She outlined the redness with a permanent marker and told us to watch it closely.  If we thought it was growing, we should take him to the ER.

7:00 p.m., Thursday:  I was out with clients.  Cory called to tell me Matthew was miserable and it appeared the red was growing.  When I got home, I verified that it had grown outside of her markings.  I called the after-hours nurses line, and she told me to bring him in right away.

I took him to the North Memorial Emergency Room.  Unfortunately, it was the day of the one-day nurses strike, so things weren't running very quickly.  We had to wait for two hours for a doctor.

9:30 p.m., Thursday:  We saw a doctor at the ER.  She, too, was very worried about how it looked and advised us to admit him for IV antibiotics.  The North Memorial Pediatrics floor was closed because of the strike, so she originally told us to take him to Children's hospital.  Then we found out that Children's wasn't accepting transfers, for the same reason.  After consultation with our pediatrician's office, they decided to send us as a direct admit to Methodist.  They put an IV in at North and gave him the first round of antibiotics there.

2:00 a.m., Friday:  We got to Methodist.  They settled us into a room on the pediatric floor.  When I saw the pediatric doctor, she was going through the procedure. I asked her, "Should I be worried?" She hesistated and I almost threw up. She explained that if the infection has spread and we had not brought him in, if it had become systemic, it could have been very dangerous. I am so in love with my little boy and I am so thankful that we trusted our instincts in bringing him in.  At that point, the redness has extended past the original line, and the marking that the ER doctor had made also.

4:00 a.m., Friday:  Matty was moaning in pain, so I asked them to dispense some of the narcotic pain relief they ordered for him.  MISTAKE.  He got violently sick instantly.  For an hour he thrashed about and cried.  After 45 minutes, he threw up and then felt better.  He and I both slept from 5:00 - 8:30 a.m.

Friday/Saturday:  We stayed at Methodist for 48 hours on IV antibiotics.  They had to give him three different antibiotics because they weren't sure what kind of infection they were dealing with, or even if it was an infection at all.


At this point, the only thing I'm concerned about is if it was an allergic reaction to the Tetanus shot, because he'll have that again in his life.  I'm hoping the blood cultures and follow-up with his pediatrician will give us more information this week.

We're at home now, and he's sound asleep in his own bed, almost good as new.  The leg is still a little red, but it's no longer swollen. They said with a strep infection, his skin will peel...almost like a sunburn, but there should be no long-lasting results of this incident. 

This entry has gotten to be long, but I still have to say one thing:  I have the best family and friends in the entire world.  My facebook wall was out of control with comments and well-wishes.  I got calls and texts from so many of my friends.  Everyone's love and support is completely overwhelming.  I keep saying there isn't even a word for how full my heart is.  I am eternally grateful for all the love and prayers that pulled us through the pretty scary first night and the long following days.

My cup overfloweth.

Thoughtful Boy!

I told you before, that Matthew is our thinker.

And today, my heart could hardly handle it when we had this conversation:

We were in the car, listening to music and the song had the lyrics, "I have Jesus in my heart."

Matthew: "Mom, when I go to Heaven with Jesus, will I live in your heart?"

Yes, my dear son, you will. Now stop talking like that. You're making your momma weepy.

Katie is our church's youth director.  She's amazing.  She knows all of the kids' names and has tons of energy and really good lessons for them.  Awhile ago, as part of her Kids' Time lesson, she was telling the children that when they get upset, they should take a deep breath and then say to themselves, "God is with me." 

He took a pretty big digger on Sunday.  We cleaned and bandaged up his wound, but he couldn't calm down.  I was holding him on my lap and asking him to take deep breaths.  He found the will to do so, but imagine my suprise (and joy!) when after a couple deep breaths, he said, quietly..."God is with me." 

Always, Matthew.  He is always with you.

Sunshine

We are digging this summer weather at the Peterson house.  Happy weekend, all!