A sneak peek

...at Eeny's first day of school:

This is him on the way out. I wasn't with it enough to get a pic on the way in. More to come. :)

Edited to correct the title. :rolleyes How annoying. That'll teach me to post things after 10pm.

Allergy test results

Hanky had his allergy test this morning. He had scratch tests done, and tested positive for oat and peanut allergies.

In a way, it's a relief. It explains everything he's gone through, from the patchy skin to eczema flare-ups, to the time his face started getting red and puffy while eating at Texas Roadhouse.

I'm sad that he has to deal with this, but hey, at least we know what we're dealing with now.

In other news, the allergist recommended Aveeno lotion to help with the sensitive skin. Um, what? DH called him back and the doctor wisely recommended another brand......without oats.

The Many Faces of Hanky

Hanky had an allergic reaction Saturday morning. He and DH spent the morning in the ER. His fingers and toes swelled like little sausages. He's on Zyrtec and Prednisolone now, and we're following up with the doc later this week.

I'm so bummed. I did everything "right". The child never had a drop of formula. Hell, he even lived with a dog for the first 4 months of his life. All of the good anti-allergen things were done, and he still reacts mysteriously to something that we can't immediately identify. It's frustrating.

He is also weaned. I nursed him for 3 years, 3 months, and 21 days. With his reaction, and the fact that I would have to eliminate a substantial number of things from my diet to continue to nurse him, in addition to the fact that I've been looking for an opportunity to move forward in our mother child relationship beyond the nursing dyad, I decided, with DH's support, to go ahead and wean. While this is not the circumstance I would have chosen, it is what it is, and he has accepted it with minimal fuss, and we're ready to continue on our journey together. I love my dear boy.




The 3 Year Breastfeeding Milestone Award

Yes, that's what it is.

Yes, that's spackle on the baby's head. The middle child apparently didn't have enough to do, and felt that covering his own head, and that of his brother with color changing spackle (goes on purple, dries white) would be a greeeeaaaat way to spend a few minutes.

I heard all 3 kids in the dining room and then realized it was way too quiet. We've repainted the living and dining rooms recently, and DH left the paint stuff cleaned, packed into the corner, and ready to go. The spackle (polyfiller for the Brits that aren't reading my humble blog :P) container is far from childproof. Ugh.

Fortunately, it came off the walls, the floor, and both of the little boys. The eldest, who was drawing in the dining room 5 feet away from the Spackling Offender didn't feel it necessary to tell me what was going on. Booger. :)

Life with boys is never boring, that's for sure. ;)

He learned a new word

Pollywog learned to say "Mommy". Every word out of his mouth today has been "Mamaaaah! Mommy!" Anybody wanna hold a cute little boy?

Happy Birthday Eeny!

My baby turned 5 today. :) We took him to see Wall*E, which was thorougly enjoyable, with the short at the beginning so funny I laughed until I cried.

He got a Millennium Falcon, with which he is thrilled, and tomorrow is the party with his school friends. :)

I've been a nursing mama for a whole 5 years today. Eeny weaned at age 3. Hanky is still nursing, and Pollywog is, too. I'm rather proud of that accomplishment. 5 straight years is a moment in the grand scheme of things, but it's my 5 years, and I'm happy with it.

He walks!

...sort of.

We were at my parents' yesterday, and at bedtime, when my dad was reading a story to the boys, Pollywog got distracted and walked right over to him and looked over his shoulder. It was only three steps, but he did it by himself!

Oooooh, I want!

Win the Essential Babywearing Stash from Along for the Ride (one Beco Butterfly, one Hotsling baby pouch, one BabyHawk Mei Tai, one Zolowear Ring Sling, and one Gypsy Mama Wrap)

That's it.

Son needed *me* at that point, more than he needed his father. It was a very real, very pressing need to him. And as he has started to mature and follow the natural progression of separating from the mother/child dyad, Daddy has been come more and more important to Son. And as Son grows into childhood, teenager-dom, and adulthood, DH will play a far more central role in helping Son develop his sense of growing into a man than I ever will. DH provides a relationship to Son that I cannot, and that will become a central focus and a central importance at one point to Son.
-R





And that's it. That's why I want (a) daughter(s).

When my sons grow up, they will join the ranks of men, not the ranks of women. I have not replaced myself in the world with strong, kind, compassionate, intelligent women. I have seen to the eventual replacement of my husband with three strong, compassionate, and intelligent men, but there will be no women of my own to gather with in the kitchen over Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, or birthing room discussions of how that most recent labor compared to the generations of women behind us that now happens in my conversations with my mother and sister.

Oh sure, there will almost certainly be daughters-in-law, but they aren't mine. They will belong to their families. They will not have been grown in my womb, nurtured at my breast, or sustained by my body. They will not have my husband's stunning green eyes, my nose, or his grin.

Saddest of all, there will be no network of women. The mother-daughter teas, slumber parties, and shopping for a prom dress, the first bra, the first period, the way the house erupts in a cacaphony of hormones when the women hit just that time in their cycles, the soothing of the teenage broken heart with ice cream, brownies, and movies will not be. There is such a rich and close culture among women--the way we're there for each other when things suck, that simply doesn't translate among men.

And while I'm afraid this sounds like I want a girl to be let into the club (which isn't the case), I must say it anyway. Without a daughter, who will my knowledge go to? My sons will learn some, but they can never make the decisions that their partner must. They'll learn how to support, but will never empathize. They will not teach their daughters in turn, as they won't know, and won't have felt for themselves. And truthfully, that knowledge saddens me.

I madly, completely, head over heels, hopelessly love my sons. I always will. I would not trade them for all the girls in the world! They are my breaths of fresh air, my amusement on a warm summer evening, my exuberance in winter, and my snuggles on a cool autumn night.

My desire for children who share my gender does not negate the above sentences for one second. My children are precious to me. I'd like some more precious ones.

I just needed to get my feelings out.

That is all.