Poor Baby

So I used to say that I was a terrible insomniac, but I've just decided that I just don't need that much sleep, so once again its 5 am and I am updating the blog. Yeah! for you.

So this morning I am thinking of poor Max. Last night I was feeling so good about myself... Dinner was on schedule and cooking, the house was almost clean, laundry from the day was folded, and I was gathering my stuff for the mutual activity that was in an hour and a half. I thought I was so together, which is a feeling I love although I admit I feel its opposite more often than not. So I am feeling great and what happens Max climbs into my lap and says "need a lub" (which means "I need a love/hug" to those of you that don't speak Max). Now those of you that know Max well know that this is unusual for him and my mommy sense was piqued slightly, but I think that my general feeling of togetherness had lulled me into a false sense of security because I was not wholly prepared when thirty seconds later the poor child stood up and puked all over himself and the surrounding area. Poor baby! and poor mama, suddenly that feeling of togetherness went right out the window as I spent the next hour alternately cleaning up vomit and comforting its sad originator, and I was reminded that I think the key to happiness in life in general, but especially in motherhood is planning, preparation, and when despite those two things everything goes South flexibility. Oh yeah and it helps to have a supportive husband who doesn't mind stepping in to play vomit catcher while you head off for the night to complete your commitment to the young women.

Max is usually so busy, it feels strange when he acts so tired and snugly. Although I would never wish away any extra snuggle time I can get with Max. The other day around three o'clock he stood still long enough for this to happen.



Mason and I hardly knew what to do with ourselves being in a house without Max noises.

"Basket head!"

That's what Maxwell shouts every time I get out this laundry basket. (Well if we're being honest he really yells "basset head!") Then he promptly claims it as his own and spends the next hour like this.

Luckily he has a brother that will play right along.

Sledding

Ok what happens when Nicole wakes up at 3:30 am and can't go back to sleep, well the blog gets updated...aren't you lucky?

So over Christmas break Shane stayed home for a week, the kids and I were in heaven. We had a great time doing a good deal of family stuff. One of my favorite days was the day we went sledding. Winter is so long here in Idaho and sometime the kids get so tired of being inside so one day we took them sledding. It was a great adventure, and I got to try out my new lens, and can say that I am in love with the extra zoom power.

This is us arriving at the park, when Mason was a baby my mom gave him the title of "the Little Rajah" which we all used affectionately to describe his universal acceptance of the idea that the world revolved around him and we existed simply to serve his needs. Max has never held the same belief, since he came into a world with sibling competition built right in, but occasionally he gets to be the Little Rajah too. This day he was particularly enjoying being towed around the park on his sled.


Then I watched from the bottom of the hill with trepidation as Shane pushed Max down the very tall hill. Max on the other hand was thrilled.




How could anyone resist a face like this?

Mason went down the hill several times too, and I really have to hand it to Shane because after each slide down the hill, he walked down and collected the sled, and the child involved and headed back up the hill. Honestly I got a good deal being put on picture detail.



Two thumbs up!

But I didn't want to miss out on all the fun so I took a turn climbing the hill with the kids, although I don't think Max enjoyed having me be the head of the entourage since about eight feet from the top of the hill I lost traction and started sliding down.

I eventually had to resort to crawling the last few feet and I only made it to the top when Max got off the sled.

Max was a little put out at being abandoned a few feet from his goal and eventually started sliding back down the hill on his seat.



So I decided to let Shane resume his duties as Sherpa and the fun resumed until Max suffered the first crash of the day.


He was pretty upset by it, until Shane and he worked it out with a promised trip to the playground.




Which involved some snowballs and diabolical plotting against mom.

I might have been caught unaware except that the entire time Max was walking toward me he had this mischievous grin on his face, and was repeating, "Get mom, get mom."

And of course I let him get me, because like I said, really, who can resist this face?