Goose's first prepared meal

These photos have been kicking around in my mental blogosphere and on my laptop for weeks. No, make that months. They were surrounded by photos of Thanksgiving, our massive first annual gingerbread decorating party, Christmas, and all of the antics we pursued as a family to avoid cabin fever during my two weeks off around the holidays.

Well, no longer.

These photos are important to me because they are yet another sign that Our Dear Goose is growing up. She has been a good mommy's helper in a lot of ways over the last 6+ months with Isaac. She will turn a whopping 5 years old in about six weeks. Almost every day--and especially earlier this week, with my birthday on the 23rd--Goose kept telling us that her birthday was "soon." Man, sometimes I wish I had a child's sense of time!

Anyhow, on to the Main Event...

She made French toast! (well, minus kneeding and baking the homemade bread). I came home to a surprise dinner cooked by my daughter. How cool is that?! I was in awe, and she didn't let my hooting and photo-snapping distract her. She was obviously quite proud and pleased with herself. The French toast was great. And the experience was even better. Becky said that Goose really, really wanted to make dinner that night, and this was the easiest thing to make. Of course, we're now excited for her to make other meals, but she has not been as interested since. 


French toast and pancakes are family favorites in Chez TimBeck3. I can't tell you how many mornings and evenings we have spent standing over that griddle. 

I also can't tell you how many times I've had to stifle my impatient--or not--as our little girls have fought over just how close they can stand or sit next to me while I make them breakfast. We have a cramped corner of our kitchen where we fire up the griddle. And those two darlings squeeze around each other and argue over who's turn it is *this* time to be almost surgically attached to Dear Old Dad and his breakfast of champions.

Of course I'll miss these days when they're no longer battling for every square inch of close-to-Daddy space.

New Year's Eve with friends, fun, and tears

We celebrated a fun and early New Year's Eve with our friends the Toblers. Lots of silly string, good food, and little girls squealing and chasing each other around the house. It was a blast and so fun to spend the holiday with friends.

We cheered, we hollered, and we yelled "Happy New Year" at 7:30 p.m.  It was great, except for a few minutes of fright for Our Mighty Moose...



He is normally a very chill little guy, but I think all of the noise and the party hat on his head freaked him out. We just thought this photo was hysterical.

Starting him off early and right

Moose was 7 months old on Christmas morning this year. He only got one gift from Santa, and you can see it in the photo above. I was so excited, for him and for me. Sure, Moose can't open it for another few years, but he'll always have a special memento from his first Christmas.

May the force be with you!

A little girl's question on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day

We spent the Martin Luther King day together as a family this week. Goose is really into the board games Othello and Mancala, and she is frighteningly good at the first for her age. Being the history geek that I am, I wanted to show Becky and our girls videos about the civil rights leader, talk to them about what he stood for, and maybe even plant a little seed of their own love of history (reaching, I know). But I was equally as satisfied doing what the kids wanted to do.

In the end, we just played at home and with some friends for ice cream (we "kidnapped" the kids at our friend Jenn's suggestion). There wasn't much emphasis on Dr. King's life. Hopefully, in later years, I can incorporate more of the message of that day and the importance of his life to our family.

That night at bedtime, after our usual round of books and prayers, I went to leave the girls' room. Just before I stepped out into the hallway, Goose whispered to me from the top of her bunk bed.

"Daddy, I have a question." I retraced my steps to the bunk beds, where Mouse was already snoozing.

"If today is Martin Luther King Day, well...who is Martin Luther Queen? When do we celebrate her?"
[Betcha thought there was going to be some unexpected and profound utterance from our oldest child].

Breathe

Our Little Mouse, our little 3-year-old, has recently given  us a few scares. I thought I'd share in general what has occured, in the hope that what we've discovered might be useful for other families. A few times over the last 18 months, she has gotten hurt or worked herself up into such a crying fit that she will suddenly go limp. To make the scene even scarier, her eyes roll back, she is unresponsive to us, and sometimes an arm or hand will freeze in a contorted way.

I was there the first time, and it scared the sh*t out of me, to be perfectly honest. I tried everything I could think of in those few seconds to bring her back. The thought that she was leaving us, right before my eyes, was real. It was a feeling I wouldn't wish on anyone.

Then, just as suddenly as it comes on, Mouse snaps out of it and starts breathing again. The next two times it occured, she fell down while playing. We took her to her pediatrician, who diagnosed it as "breath-holding" and cautioned us to watch her mood, the environment around her, and what triggered it the next time. Then, thankfully, months passed with no relapse.

Thanksgiving morning, just as my parents arrived at our house, Mouse was fighting with her sister and me over a book that they were frantic to read. When I took the book, Mouse immediately went into her hyper-panic crying, and she relapsed. In a matter of seconds, she went from sitting on the couch behind my head to in my arms and in my lap to onto the couch next to me and then, finally, onto the floor, as her limp body seemed to slide out of my grasp.

There is a certain chill of doom and helplessness that quickly overtakes me. I don't panic, I just pat her back until she starts breathing again. The few seconds when she was unresponsive have felt like 10 minutes, and each time, we have been running to the phone to call 911. And then she snaps out of it and is fine.

And, it's all because she brings it on herself. She either intentionally or inadvertantly (not sure which) holds her breath while she's hyperventilating. She works herself up crying so hard to get our attention that she forgets (?) or is too focused on crying to breathe.

We called our pediatrician after the Turkey Day bout, and were reassured that this is breath-holding and nothing more, and that she'll grow out of it. Oh, and kids who do this become spoiled, because as they get older, they see their parents freaking out doing anything to immediately resolve--to the child's benefit--whatever is making their child cry so hard. She had another one on Christmas day, so we've thought that perhaps times of heightened hustle and bustle in the house might also be a trigger. Our pediatrician has checked her out and everything is fine.

Thankfully, we have not seen any repercussions from these spells. Well, except for the time on Christmas day when, as she snapped out of it, Mouse pleaded with me through tears, "Daddy, I have to go pee!"

I was too busy consoling her, holding onto her for dear life, and being grateful that she was back to care as she soaked my pants.

Parenthood...never a dull moment.

2012!

What, you're still checking our blog? Well, Happy New Year!

Life with kids (x 3) + holiday hecticness + colds (x 4) + "Downton Abbey" (if you aren't watching this mini-series, you are so 2007)= no time for blogging. There is a lot to catch our devoted readers up on, but I also wonder if there's a point rehashing the last 6-8 weeks through posts and pictures. The New Year is off to a good but busy start, and everyone's healthy, so we'll definitely take it.

Hope that 2012 has started on the right foot for all of you, too.