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For the past couple of weeks Santa has been a big topic of conversation in our house. Also, we’ve already seen the “real Santa” twice (you know this already if you’ve been reading this blog!). All along the boys have been talking-up-a-storm about wanting a “Bob the Builder truck” from Santa. Specifically (Kyle has clarified) a “front end loader Bob the Builder truck.” Both times they’ve seen Santa they have asked for this specific present from him. And this is all they have ever mentioned. Just to fill you in on a little inside information: I know FOR SURE that Santa is planning to bring them each a “front end loader Bob the Builder truck.” That is a definate. No worries. All our Christmas shopping is actually done and we’re in the process of getting it all wrapped and shipped up to New Hampshire (since we’re spending Christmas with my family). All was well in the Johnson-McCormick merry little Christmas home… HOWEVER…
…on Monday, while reading a Santa book, out of the blue, Kyle suddenly pointed to a page with a picture of a Christmas present on it and said “Trumpet in there.” I said, what’s in that present for Kyle? (thinking I must have heard him wrong, and fully expecting him to respond: “Bob the Builder truck”) And he said, clear as day: “It’s a trumpet.” I thought (hoped) it was all a fluke. But yesterday he was still saying it. Karen, our housekeeper and dear friend of the family, asked Kyle what Santa was going to bring him. Kyle jumped up and down saying “A trumpet! A trumpet!” Then, this morning, when we arrived at daycare, the boys ran up to the big plastic fake Santa that is sitting at the entrance to the daycare building, and both Kyle and Owen said to the fake Santa: “Santa, trumpet pleeeaaaaase?!!!!!” I stood there, frozen, thinking: “my gosh, this isn’t a fluke.” Oh geesh.

Kyle and Owen are looking cuter than ever lately. Partly it is because they have such cool boy outfits. Partly it is because they wear them so well. I almost can’t stand it how darn cute these boys are. Photos don’t capture it. But we keep on trying. The two photos above were taken this evening by Braydon while I was trying to make dinner and the boys were trying to be as involved as possible in the dinner-making-process. It is very hard to make dinner with the two of them trying to be involved. Such is life. Such is our life.

Here’s another photo taken by Braydon tonight, after supper, while I was reading books with Kyle. I like the photo because you can see that we’re reading a Santa-related book… read below…

Overheard by me in the car today after daycare — Me in the driver’s seat, driving / The boys hanging out in their carseats in the back, Kyle playing with the pink Cinderalla toy cell phone, Owen playing with the red Fisher Price phone, both of them pretending to be talking on the phones:

Owen: Mommy! I’m talking on the phone!
Kyle: I’m talkin’ to Santa on the phone.
Owen: Yeah, I’m talkin’ to Santa.
Kyle: Hello, Santa? Hello! Bob the Builder and truck please Santa.
Owen: Santa? Hi! Bob the Builder and truck! O.k. Santa?
Kyle: Um, um, o.k. Santa.
Owen: O.k., bye bye.
Kyle: Bye Santa!

Faithful readers might remember two posts from November when I wrote about Big Elmo. In case you want to refresh your memory (or learn the back-story to today’s story) click here: — Big Elmo — and — Day Two With Big Elmo — …Anyway… So, Big Elmo has been a member of our family for exactly three weeks today. We thought all was well with Kyle’s new best friend, despite the fact that he’s a huge red stuffed thing and so cheesy/tacky that Braydon and I can barely stand it and the epitome of child-targeted capitalistic consumerism that we try desperately to keep at bay and a representation of some amourphous strange “animal”/”monster”/strange-voiced character that we’re all extremely unfamiliar with and and and and and (I could go on and on but I’ll stop there). …Anyway… So, we thought all was well. But, you must understand, that given the constant state of cumulative sleep deprivation that we find ourseleves in, lots of things that appear clear are, in fact, quite fuzzy. (and, vice-versa: lots of things that we find to be quite fuzzy, are, in fact, quite clear to most normal sane well-balanced people). …Anyway… So, there’s lots we wind up reporting on this blog. But there’s lots and lots and lots that’s not here. We only post once a day, and we can’t write 24 hours worth of details, so most of what occurs and exists in our lives is actually not on our blog. …Anyway… So, one thing we haven’t been blogging about is that for the past several days (o.k., maybe exactly about 3 weeks or so), our boy Kyle has not been sleeping well. Actually, to be precise: he has been sleeping GREAT, but he’s been taking HOURS to fall asleep. The boys are in bed by 8:00 every night– but lately Kyle hasn’t been falling asleep until 10:00 or, on several occassions, even later. Our poor child has been up in his bed AWAKE having SUCH a hard time falling asleep. At first we were concerned but thought it was just some sort of fluke or phase (this is, after all, our “angel” child that is the “easy” sleeper; our “textbook” child who falls asleep like clockwork in 20 minutes time just like all the baby books say they should.) We’ve been worried. I’ve been saying to Braydon, “My God! Do you think he has insomnia?!!!!!!!!!” And he’s been saying to me, “My God! What are we going to do??????????????????!” …Anyway… So, Friday night at 10:30pm, both Braydon and I in a state of utter panic, Braydon went upstairs to try to soothe Kyle once more, and he comes downstairs and says to me, “You know, I think it might be Big Elmo.” I said, “What???????” And Braydon said, “Kyle’s so revved up. And he’s rolling around his bed with that damn thing, talking to it, and holding it over his head. I think Big Elmo might be the problem.” I just stood there, expressionless, just looking at my brilliant husband. It was as if he had just solved all the world’s problems or discovered something worthy of the Noble Prize. “Oh my God!” I said, “You think???” Braydon went up to Kyle’s room, told him that “Big Elmo is going to sit on the couch” and put the huge red stuffed thing on the couch in Kyle’s room. Ky Ky was asleep within 5 minutes. Last night we made a big production of putting Big Elmo “to bed” in “his own bed” and layed him on a big pillow in the corner of Kyle’s room and put a blanket over him. Kyle kissed him goodnight, made sure he was tucked in just so, and was asleep within 10 minutes of laying down in his own bed. Same story again today at nap — asleep within 20 minutes, without Big Elmo. My thinking was “3rd time’s a charm”; if he fell asleep tonight just fine, without Big Elmo, then my extrardinarily brilliant bright beloved husband was RIGHT. And yes, again, tonight — Kyle tucked Big Elmo into to that “bed” in the corner, climbed into his own bed, and was asleep in that 20 minute angel-baby-time-frame-out-like-a-light. Big Elmo and Kyle will sleep separately from this point on. NO BED-MATES FOR OUR KY KY. At least not for a long, long, long time.

Today, according to Johnson-McCormick Family Tradition, we officially began our Christmas Season!!! O.k., really now, — how much more fun could it possibly get… Christmas with two two-year-olds??!!! Seriously! It doesn’t get much better than this! We are (all four) so excited, and by the end of this day our cheeks are all hurting from smiling so hard for so long. And this is just the start! For anyone who’s a regular reader, you might remember that about a month ago I wrote something like, “I think Halloween might be K & O’s favorite holiday”?! O.k., well, SCRAP THAT. Christmas is definately their favorite holiday.

A few weeks ago Braydon and I had calendared in to take today off from work to do all of our Christmas shopping in one fell swoop. So, picture this: the two of us, first thing this morning, in Toys R Us, each pushing a big cart, smiling ear-to-ear, Christmas shopping for our twin two year old boys. How fun was it?! Just let your imagination run wild. It could not possibly be more fun to do Christmas shopping than that was. We didn’t even exit Toys R Us until noon.

By 4:00 our shopping was done. We picked up the boys from daycare, and the fun intensified at least two-fold. We brought the boys to see a huge Christmas tree (photo above). They were mesmorized. Not much else compares to seeing the wonder of Christmas in your own child’s eyes.

Soon enough the boys spotted Santa. They ran to him as fast as they could run. As they approached him they started waving and jumping and yelling “Hi Santa!!” “Hi Santa!” They went right up to jolly old St. Nick, looked him right in the eyes, and said, “BOB THE BUILDER PLEASE SANTA?” He shot us a glance, and gave them some candy. There were no other kids around at the time, and the three of them (Santa, K, O) totally hit it off. In between the Santa-Kyle-Owen banter, Santa told me that he himself is a twin!? and that he “loves twins.” Anyway, the three of them started horsing around like long lost friends. What a riot to watch. The young women stationed there to act as Santa’s assistants and to take photos could not believe their eyes. They never took a picture, they just watched the whole scene unfold. They said to Braydon, “You’re kids are awesome!” They said to me, “These are the first kids all day who haven’t cried!” Cry? Are you kidding?! This picture doesn’t even do it justice:

After Santa, Braydon suggested we go check out the new LLBean. We hadn’t been in there yet, and have been wanting to see it, so I said, “sure let’s go!” The four of us walked to it. Once inside we quickly discovered the bicycle section. Sitting there were two super duper super cool Schwinn tricycles. One pink, one red. Owen jumped on the pink one. Kyle the red one. And they took off. They rode around the inside perimeter of the store, ringing the tricycle bells and shouting “Watch out! Bicycle coming! Watch out! Here we come! Watch out! Kyle coming! Owen coming!” It could have been an advertisement for LLBean. And as fun as it was to watch K & O, the best part of all was watching people’s faces just light up when they’d see them (and hear them) pedaling along. They literally rode around this huge store’s inner perimeter about 30 times. Soon LLBean staff were standing along the path cheering the boys on, as if it was the tour de France. And customers were coming from all over the store to get a glimpse of these two “sweethearts” (many people remarked to me: “my goodness! they are SWEETHEARTS!”) LLBean should seriously consider paying these boys to do this for the holiday season. Just to get their staff and customers into the holiday spirit. Anyway, in addition to all the “sweetheart” remarks, we also go about a hundred: “You’re not even thinking of leaving here without those bikes, are you????” At first our thoughts were: “oh my gosh! no! are you kidding? no way on earth we’re even thinking of buying these bikes?!!” Then it morphed into: “gosh, they’d just love to have these bikes.” Then: “oh my god, how much do you want to buy them these bikes?” Then: “um, do you think we should buy these bikes?” Then: (a picture says a thousand words)

Yes, we’re totally embarassed to admit it, but yes, they rode the bikes right out of the LLBean, down the sidewalk, to the car. (Yes, we did pay for them. Yes, we double and triple checked with Owen if he was “sure” that he wanted a pink bike, not a red one like Kyle’s, etc. etc. etc. Yes, he was absolutely sure.)

On the way to the car, the boys just had to ride back to Santa to show him the new bikes. He told them that he thought the bikes were “very cool.”

Christmas with Kyle and Owen at age two will only happen once. I want to try to savor every minute and I want to try to remember every moment. December 1, 2006 – Christmas Has Begun!!!

How do you say “Hello” in Chinese? Just ask Owen. He knows. And he can pronounce it perfectly — with perfect intonation, so that Chinese people (even Chinese people who speak no english) recognize immediately that he is greeting them with his perfect Chinese/Mandarin “Hello.” So, just in case you don’t know (I surely did not), — 你好 — “ni hao” (nee-Ha-OW; sounds like “knee how”) is “hello” in Chinese.

One day a couple of months ago I was picking the boys up from daycare. Normally we walk out together and I put both of them into the car at the same time. But on this particular day I got Owen out and buckled him into his carseat first, and left him in the parking lot as I ran in to get Kyle. It was a warm day and all of the car windows were down. As I walked back toward the car with Kyle I saw that an older gentleman, who happened to be Chinese, was standing right next to Owen’s car door and talking with him through the open window. They were both smiling ear-to-ear and carrying on like two old pals. This older Chinese man (probably about 75, bald, and very thin), and my little guy’s-guy Owen (2 years old, dreadlocks, and very husky). When the man saw me he waved bye to Owen and started to walk off down the sidewalk. Owen started yelling something to the man — something I didn’t recognize, and the man started yelling the same thing back. Soon Kyle chimed in and the three of them were all yelling “ni hao” to each other at the tops of their lungs and laughing. I tried to talk to the man, tried to ask him what it meant, but immediately realized he spoke no english. He walked into one of the apartment buildings next door to the daycare center. And we drove home.

A couple weeks later I was picking up the boys again. It was another warm day and the toddlers were playing outside in the front fenced in play-yard of the daycare. I was standing talking to one of Kyle and Owen’s teachers as we watched all the kids play. Suddenly I noticed that Owen was off in the front corner of the fence waving through it and jumping up and down yelling “ni hao” over and over and over. I could see that down the sidewalk a bit the same older gentleman was walking toward the daycare. As I was observing this I watched Kyle run over to join Owen, and the two of them cheerily shouted repeated “ni hao’s” with huge smiles on their faces. None of the other kids seemed phased by this and just kept playing. Soon enough the man was right outside the fence, saying “ni hao” with a huge grin, giggling out loud, and waving sweetly to my two boys. I asked the staff about it. They told me that this happens almost daily. They explained that several Chinese families live in the surrounding apartment buildings and that this particular older man always makes a point to say “ni hao” to Kyle and Owen… and that Kyle and Owen have learned to say it back. Apparently this back-and-forth-greeting is a pretty frequent highlight of the day for my boys and the man and whomever of his Chinese family or friends he may have with him on his daily walks. The whole thing just warmed my heart. I waved to the man as he walked away. And I remember telling Braydon all about it that night.

Today after daycare I had the boys in the grocery store with me. We were waiting in line at a register to buy our things. Kyle was in the front of the “truck cart” and Owen was seated in child-seat of the cart. I was kneeling down talking with Kyle when suddenly I heard Owen saying, loudly and confidently “ni hao!” “ni hao!” I stood up to see him coyly smiling and flirtatiously waving to the two people in line behind us– an older Asian woman and her 20-something son. The son started laughing, and the woman was blushing a deep red. I said, “hi!” to them, and didn’t know quite what else to say. I kissed Owen and said, “that’s so nice Owen.” The son said to me, “what is he saying?” And I said, self-consciously, “he’s saying ‘ni hao’, he’s trying to say ‘hi.'” He said, “Oh my god, that’s what we thought he was saying!!! My mother speaks Chinese.” He then turned to his mother and started speaking in quick Chinese with her. And she quietly and self-consciously said, “ni hao” to my Owen. Owen giggled and said, “ni hao” back. The son then said “ni hao” to Owen and Owen said “ni hao” back. The son then said to me, “geesh, this is kind of amazing.” And I said, “yeah, I know.” As Owen and the older Chinese woman giggled and flirted and cooed to each other in Chinese (the only thing they could say to each other was “ni hao” — the woman spoke no english), I said to the young man, “You know, they say that young children don’t recognize race, but they do. He [owen] knew you were Chinese. That’s why he said that to you. I’ve only ever heard him say it to another Chinese person. And I did not teach it to him. And he’s only 2.” The guy just shook his head in amazement, neither of us quite knowing what to make of it. He said, “And he’s…” and his voice trailed off. Somehow I just knew he wanted to acknowledge that my little son is black. I said, “Yeah, and he’s black, and when he sees black men he’ll often try to do a fist-pound with them — like, he’ll kind of acknowledge ‘hey, you’re black too!'” The man said, “Yeah, that’s what I was trying to say, it is just so amazing, because, like, he’s black, and we’re Chinese.” And I’m white. And the whole thing is just an incredibly great example of why our life is amazingly interesting and rich and such a great, great journey every single day.

The beauty is in the details. 你好

TONIGHT…

Milestone:
After Thanksgiving on Thursday and then the next four nights straight of eating T’Giving leftovers for dinner we finally couldn’t take it anymore. I had to work late, and we could not stomach the idea of a sixth night of turkey, so Braydon seized the opportunity for him and the boys to pursue one of their favorite activities: a trip to the pizza place. Braydon reported that tonight both boys marched right in there to Borderline Pizza, Braydon plopped them up on the counter, and Owen yelled out “High Five Sal!” (to the owner). Sal, of course, came running from the kitchen. After ‘high fiving’ with K & O, and after K & O ‘high fiving’ with the rest of the pizza-making-guys, Sal gave each boy a piece of fresh pepperoni. But I digress… this is not the milestone… this is normality… Milestone: once we were all at home situated around the dining room table for supper both K & O requested that their pizza be “not cut” but rather that they “eat it big”?!!!!!!! This is a huge milestone since they ALWAYS always always ALWAYS always insist that *EVERYTHING* that they eat be “cut.” “You cut it?” they always, always, always request. But tonight, they ate their pizza “big.” They were sooooo proud of themselves. A big milestone for our pizza-loving two year olds.

Historic Break From Tradition:
Who the heck knows (or even cares) how it began, but somewhere along the way I started a tradition many years ago that I/we DO NOT start Christmas stuff until December 1. No Christmas music to be played until December 1. No Christmas shopping to be done until December 1. And definately, definately NO CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS in the house until December 1. But alas, I’m a sucker for my precious bambinos and they could probably get me to do just about anything on earth for them. Tradition smadition blahdition. Starting this weekend we see Christmas lights decorating houses as we drive along the roads to and fro. Being the crazy foolish people that we are, everytime we see the Christmas lights we sing “Hallelujah” like maniacs. So, since the weekend my sweet baby boy Kyle has been asking, with the most forlorn little look on his face, “Mama, where’d my hallelujah go?” and “Mama, where’s my hallelujah?” and “Mama, what happened to my hallelujah?” It hasn’t taken a rocket scientist for us to coax out of him that he wants some lights up at his own house. I’ve been telling him that we’re going to do it “Sunday” (like that even means anything to the poor child?!) and that “we have to wait.” Tonight though, I couldn’t bear it anymore, and I thought to myself, “my gosh, there will come a day not too far in the teenage-years-future when I’ll be pulling teeth to get this boy to help me put up a Christmas light…” and I thought, “oh, what the heck…” and I shouted to my three family-mates, “YOU WAIT HERE!!! And sing Jingle Bells while you wait!!!” (which they did), and I ran to the basement to dig in the Christmas storage to fetch a string of lights. I threw them up along the dining room window. And I plugged them in. You should have seen the look on my boys’ faces, and the twinkles in their eyes, and the spirit in their excitement when they saw those Hallelujah lights light up in their home. We’ll put the tree up on Sunday, but I must say, that the breaking of a tradition has never felt so satisfying.

Braydon and I kind of think of life in two dimensions: “before-K&O” and “after-K&O.” Many of you who know me from “before” know about how I love(d) to cook. I used to read cookbooks like people on the beach read romance novels. I used to watch the Food Network like sports fans watch ESPN. I used to list “cooking” on questionairres that asked for my hobbies. I’d spend hours (sometimes days) researching, planning, and preparing for dinner parties. Many a weeknight Braydon and I spent drinking wine while I cooked, and savoring my multiple-course dinners by candlelight well into the night. Times have changed in our “after-K&O” life. I think of it this way: I used to be a pretty good amateur chef, now I am a fast-and-dirty cook. Big difference. Braydon took this picture of some spices on our kitchen counter. You can’t tell from the photo, but they go for long stretches without ever being used. I hardly ever have use for spices anymore since 99% of the time I’m just trying to get something that all four of us will find edible onto the table in 20 minutes or less. Turns out that toddlers (well, I suppose I should really only speak for myself and I should rather say, my two toddlers) don’t really like wasabi and sesame encrusted tuna with a hoisin glaze cooked rare and served over a bed of sauteed fresh spinach with garlic mashed red-potatoes. Sometimes I get really sad about it. Sort of like I get sad when we talk about the spontaneous trips to the movie theater that we used to make, or the sophisticated vacations we used to go on, or the exercise equipment in our basement that we used to use, or the Sunday mornings we’d linger for hours with coffee and the New York Times. But most of the time I’m feeling no sadness — just the purest joy I’ve ever known: the experience of having the opportunity to be my boys’ mother. I can honestly say, as cliche as it sounds, that for me now, my bambinos are the spice of life. I’d never go back, no matter what — and I feel that way everyday, even when we’re all eating hot dogs and beans.

Sometimes it is really hard to be a mommy who has an ambitious career. Like today. Like this morning, when I had to drop off my precious babies at daycare after having four whole days in a row with them. They were o.k. with going. They didn’t cry or anything. When I went to kiss them goodbye at the little toddler breakfast table, they didn’t even protest me leaving. But I had all I could do to keep my game-face on for them until I closed the door behind me. Then I cried my heart out all by myself in the car all the way to work. And then had to go give a sociology lecture to 240 students. I think it is important to be real about this. It is just really, really, really hard sometimes. I wouldn’t give up any of it. I really wouldn’t. For so many really important reasons. But it is not easy.

Cuddling This Morning

MorMor and MorFar left first thing this morning. I cried as we waved and watched them drive off down the driveway. We went back into the house and Kyle kept asking me, “Mama, you o.k.?” (he hates to see anyone cry, let alone his mother!), and Owen kept saying, “I so mad!!!” Owen was so angry about MorMor and MorFar having to leave that he didn’t even want to kiss them goodbye. And Kyle was just depressed and limp and lifeless. Braydon and I felt like we do whenever they leave — lots of feelings of “how on earth are we going to manage without them here???????” We spent the day trying to re-group. Which involved: lots of cuddling, lots of sleeping (we finally woke the boys at the 3.25 hour mark into their nap), lunch out at Panera, and “Hair Night” (which is always every-other-Sunday, but we’re counting it as part of our “re-grouping” effort tonight). When we have company the boys are so excited that they don’t eat as much as usual. But then they make up for it. Tonight they EACH ate (this is not both combined, this is per child): 1 whole hummus & wheat bread sandwich, 1 whole pear, 1/2 can of green beans (I know, yuck!!! But they love it, and is the only way to get them to eat green beans- they won’t eat them fresh?!), 1/4 pound of cheese (yes, you did read that correctly), 1 leftover Pillsbury crescent roll from Thanksgiving, and a ton of yogurt covered raisins. So, double that — and that is what they consumed combined. If they eat this much now when they’re 2, what the heck are we going to be feeding them when they’re 12?! or 16?! I think about that a lot. And I won’t even try to list everything they ate throughout the whole day. So, here we are. Our little family re-grouped. Tomorrow starts a new week of work/daycare. Thanks for reading…

Hair Night Tonight

We’ve been having a really great few days here in Pennsylvania with my parents. Owen and Kyle just love having their MorMor and MorFar around. Braydon and I do too.

We are so thankful.

I am not going to write some gushy Thanksgiving Day entry here. Because I can’t even do it justice. We’re just so thankful. Our hearts are just so full.

I will say, however, just because it is an important day to mark down in the anals of history of the Johnson-McCormick household…
that…
Today we had our first boy-broken-window. Kyle hit a golf ball that smashed right into our garage window. Let this date be remembered as our first boy-broken-window day. Surely there will be many more of these days to come. But let it be noted that the first was today, Thanksgiving Day 2006, and that our darling son was only 2.5 when he broke his first window with his powerful golf swing. Let it be duly noted.

We’re so thankful for that powerful golf swing. We’re so thankful for that precious little boy “Ky Ky” who is the sweetest little thing imaginable. We’re so thankful for our “Big O” Owen who kept us all in hysterics laughing all day long… and who never stopped talking today except for when he was sleeping… and who, despite the massive entirety of the Thanksgiving Dinner spread of food ate exactly 2 Pillsbury crescent rolls for his entire meal (but asked for precisely “five” of them). And we’re really thankful for our entire family and our friends and our good, good life. I know, I know, I said I wouldn’t be gushy, so I’ll stop there.

O.k., so, I’m not gonna lie about it: A lot of days the “terrible two’s” seem like a folkloric myth to us. I’m almost embarassed about saying that out loud since so many people have the opposite situation and complain to me constantly about their two-year-olds. But not today. We’re grumpy here. Grumpy grumpy grumpy. We all woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. All four of us. And by 6:30 p.m., the “terrible two’s” seemed more real than ever. And with two of ’em fussing and whining and carrying on and losing it left at right all at the same time — it doesn’t feel like the Terrible Two’s times two. It feels more like the Terrible Two’s TIMES-a-MILLION around here. And with two parents who are frazzled and burnt out and sick and tired of burning the candles at both ends it feels more like the Terrible Two’s TIMES-a-ZILLION.

We’re *done* with this whole mama-fall-semester-overextended-up-for-tenure-book-just-out-THING. We’re *done* with this whole daylight-savings-dark-when-we-get-home-from-daycare-no-light-to-play-outside-THING. (see below). We’re *done* with this whole daily-grind-rat-race-two-parents-working-two-twin-toddlers-two-neglected-cats-all-under-one-roof-THING. We’re just done done done done done. Wha Wha Whah Whah Whaaaaaaaaah. Can’t I just have a big ‘ol TANTRUM about THAT?! ;0

Biggest gripe of the day: By 5:00 it is dark outside. But we’re not nearly ready to give up on our outdoor play time. Something’s gotta give. Poor Kyle and Owen are playing in the dark every day now. They seem unphased by it. But Braydon and I are just beside ourselves with annoyance over this! Here are some photos of our happy-go-lucky boys playing in the sandbox in the pitch dark. What are we saving with this daylight savings thing afterall?

Thank goodness MorMor and MorFar arrive tomorrow. Just in time to save the day! My guess???– By Thanksgiving Dinner we’ll be asking ourselves: “Terrible Two’s??” “What’s that?” “Daylight Savings??” “What’s the big deal?!” “Pass the turkey and gravy please?”

From time to time, by the power vested in me by nothing but motherhood, I declare a day a “HAITIAN PRIDE DAY” for the Johnson-McCormick Family. Sometimes there is an actual reason (like, something is happening in Haiti at the time, or it is the anniversary of something big that happened in the history of Haiti, or another family we know about somewhere succesfully got through a major milestone in a Haitian adoption, or the day has some significance for our own family, etc.). But sometimes — like today — there is no “official” reason at all. First thing this morning I announced to K & O that today was “Haitian Pride Day!” The boys were very, very, very proud to show off their shirts to all their friends in the toddler room at daycare. Woot woot! Rah rah! The other two-year-olds seemed only mildly impressed… and were much more excited about another kid’s “Bob the Builder” shirt that he proceeded to show off with as much (o.k., I admit it, a bit more) gusto than K & O had for their shirts. Despite this, the boys carried forth. I was told at daycare pick-up that they had been adament all day long to show off their shirts to anyone who would listen to them repeatedly say, “HAITI!” I was totally completely impressed and thrilled when one of the daycare staff (an intern I actually have in class this semester) told me that she “got so into it!” that she went to her dorm room and brought back to the daycare center her own actual Haitian flag (she is Haitian) which she then pulled out to show me! Owen pointed to her flag and said, “Haiti Flag.” Could Haitian Pride Day get any better than THAT?!!!