Cousin-mania, part II

We're in Seattle now and Luke and Zach are awash in a sea of happy, sticky, noisy cousin love.

Eight years ago, my parents started a tradition of renting a big house and getting the whole family together for a week in the summer. Our group has grown from just three siblings and their spouses to a mob of 14 with (currently) six kids age six and under(in order: Antonia, Sam, Luke, Helena, Lily, Zach). My parents somehow continue to volunteer themselves for this every summer and remain amused and entertained by the crazy chaos that unfolds every year.

This time it's Zach's turn (or as Helena calls him, Zacker) to be welcomed into the fold, and so far he's been remarkably calm about being hugged, grabbed, dripped upon, and generally manhandled by his cousins who are currently arguing about who gets to hold him next. He's adjusted extremely well to his first new sleeping location since leaving the hospital: The first night he struggled a little with a stuffy nose from the cold he caught from Luke, but then last night he surprised us all by sleeping "through the night" - from 11 pm to 5:30 am.

Now that the whole group is here (after a hellish two-day plane delay for our East Coast crew) we have a whole week's worth of adventure planned: a day at the beach looking for starfish, a hike, a harbor cruise, more trips to the fish market, and many, many park dates. "I'm so glad we have lots of friends in Seattle," sighed Luke as Dave tucked him into bed last night. Little does he know, the fun is only just beginning.

Cousin-mania

We're all a little bit sad here because our beloved cousin Samson has left already after such a short visit. "He's my favorite boy," declared Luke the other evening after they had a great time playing together. And then later, perhaps not coincidentally after Luke learned that Uncle Tony had gotten up early and gone out to get him a sprinkle donut, Luke got all sentimental about Uncle Tony and Aunt Joanna too. "They're my favorite guys," he said sadly as we told him they were leaving.

When it was finally time for them to go to the airport, Luke tried one last-ditch effort to get them to stay longer. "Wait, Samson, I have a surprise for you!" he said.
"What is it?" asked Samson.
"It's...um...a big..." (Luke is clearly grasping at straws here) "...box...for your forks and knives."
Samson was justifiably confused.

Of course this was the first time all three boy-cousins were together and Samson was almost as enthusiastic about Zach as Luke is. Samson is a total joy to be with and we are looking forward to many good times together and lots of lovable three-boy-chaos in the future.

Now if Luke and Zach are feeling a lack of cousin companionship, they only have to wait five more days until we have cousin-o-rama in Seattle with Antonia, Helena, Sam, and Lily. Will baby Zach feel left behind once he realizes how much younger he is than all of the other cousins? Maybe he'll rush to catch up with everyone. Or maybe one of my siblings will have baby #3 to keep Zach company.

I kid, people, I kid!

Also worth noting is that today is Zach's three-month birthday. Does this mean the "fourth trimester" is officially over? Hmmm...I don't think so. Not yet. But we're looking forward to head control sometime in the next few weeks, and then rolling over, and then sitting up...and sooner or later, running down the street. Happy 1/4 birthday, my sweet Baby Z.

Together, apart

I seem to have fallen off the blog wagon in the past few days. Could it be the big party we just threw for Luke and Hatcher? The swirl of activities around the cousins being in town? Or me just being too slow on my poor broken toe to travel up and down the stairs to the computer? Let's call it all of the above.

Last time we checked in, Luke was having a complex about being ALONE at night in his room. After a few nights of this battle we finally decided to put Zach in the crib for at least the first shift of sleep at night (Luke didn't sleep in the crib at night until five months; as with Zach it was just easier to have him in the sidecar co-sleeper). We thought putting them to sleep in the same room would work, and it did for a few minutes the first night, but...go figure. It didn't stick. Luke still wanders out of bed until as late as 10 pm with ridiculous excuses: "I need another drink of water" "I have to go to the bathroom again" "I wanted to ask if you could bring me breakfast in bed tomorrow" "I just wanted to say I love you again Mommy" (well, maybe that last one is not so bad). At least we have stopped hearing about being ALONE so much.



Who would have guessed that at this stage the bigger problem would be getting our toddler to go to sleep? (And just for clarification, Luke is just goofing around in this picture and does not actually sleep in the crib. I mean, come on, he barely sleeps in his bed.)

But good old adaptable Zach seems to suffer no ill effects from the shift in sleeping location. He's still just a go-along get-along kind of guy who seems to agree with me and Dave that lights-out means time to go to sleep. Maybe he can teach Luke a thing or two.

Zach also had some of his first social appearances this week...at Luke and Hatcher's half-birthday party, with cousin Samson and Uncle Tony and Aunt Joanna, and in a brief visit to my office for the summer picnic. He's been a real charmer, either sleeping or cooing happily on cue most of the time.

I promised myself early on that I would refrain from comparisons that began with "Luke was x but Zach is y..." and I have to keep stopping myself because it's so tempting to talk about what an easy baby Zach is. Maybe it just seems easier this time around because we're not totally clueless. And who knows what Luke is going through. But I have to add that even if/when Luke is being a pain, either as an infant or as a three-and-a-half-year-old who doesn't want to go to bed, he's still so darned lovably cute that it doesn't matter. "I'm happy at you, Mommy," he told me as I tucked him in the other night. I'll take that.

Big bundles

Sudden realization: I have more than 50 pounds worth of children. Luke is somewhere in the 35-plus range and Zach weighed in today at 15 pounds 4 ounces. Yes, he at the absolute top of the scale for his birth age and off the charts for his gestational age. And it's OK to ask the question that seemed almost ridiculous three months ago: Is he too big? No, says our doc, the Amazing Dr. L., he's just a happy, healthy Goo who'll probably trim down a little bit once he starts moving around. She pronounced him "beautiful" and "quite the talker" as he cooed and gooed throughout most of his checkup.

Here's a question I didn't get to ask: What is he doing with all of that energy that's not being directed toward growing hair? He's the first bald baby we've had on either side of the family. But hey, it sure makes bath time go a lot faster...

I'm just so proud of both of them. Can you tell?

Return of the H-Bear

One thing that's been really fun for me since Zach was born is unpacking all of Luke's old baby clothes and bringing back all sorts of funny little memories. Like the fruit pajamas that Luke wore after his 2-month welcome party, in which he made his biggest smile ever recorded for the camera. But the pajamas that Zach is wearing now (see exhibit A) make me smile for another reason...I bought them for Luke at Costco and didn't notice until I got home that there was some curious wording on the front. There are three bears, each with an arrow pointing to them, and the bottom two say "Fuzzy and Cuddly" and "Fluffy," but the top one, curiously enough, says "H" - and that's it. It wasn't until several weeks after I bought the pajamas that I saw another pair in a regular Carter's store and I learned that the top bear was supposed to say "Huggable" (I imagined Costco stores in another part of the country, say, New Jersey, with a big shipment of the same pajamas with the top bear labeled "uggable." Anyway, whenever Luke would wear them, we would call him the H-Bear - and now the H-Bear has returned.

Strange things happening around the house...Dave and Luke made a project this weekend of putting the crib together for Zach (who is currently sleeping in the sidecar co-sleeper in our room). Apparently Luke was extremely disappointed to learn that Zach wouldn't be sleeping in the crib right away, because Luke suddenly got hung up on the fact that he sleeps in his room ALL ALONE and he doesn't want to be ALONE anymore. (Attachment parenting friends: I'm with you all the way except on this - I cannot have a toddler sleep in my room with me or else I will never get to sleep. It's bad enough with grunty, gassy Zach in the room.) So Luke woke up not once , not twice, but THREE times on Sunday night to declare that he didn't want to be alone (at 10:30, 1:30, and 3:30 - and I didn't even bother going back to sleep after the last one because Zach was about to wake up any minute). We knew we had to nip this one in the bud, and somehow, once we got past a major bedtime battle last night, Luke didn't wake up again. Tonight Luke was safely tucked in and unfortunately, as I write this, he is making another appearance ("I don't want to be alone!"). Ugh. Wish us luck.

Zach has been cooing and gooing for most of the day, and in fact he was cooing right before I took this picture. A funny thing about Zach - he's like a little clock. He'll stay awake with me up until exactly 9:45 on the nose, when he conks out for good. When I took this picture and posted it (time recorded about 9:30) Zach was making happy noises but I could see his eyelids getting lower. So I dashed upstairs and we settled into the rocking chair just in time. At the stroke of 9:45 it was good night baby, or should I say, good night, H-Bear.

Broke-toe Mountain

"I need a break," I said to Dave on Tuesday night, and he shook his head at me. "You really, really need to be more specific when you wish for things like that," he said.

It's true, I broke my toe on Tuesday, due to an unfortunate and extremely embarrassing collision with a piece of furniture. Just as I was getting back on my feet, ready to start running again, really enjoying long summer walks on the beach, I gave myself another huge setback. Ugh. I would kick myself if it weren't already so painful.

Fortunately, both boys have been somewhat easy on me the last two days. Luke and I have been fairly sedentary, watching the "Stomp" video and reading books; and Zach, who is entering a new super-alert super-cute phase, has been content to goo on my lap for long stretches of time.

And despite my red-white-and-blue foot, yesterday turned out to be a banner day. Quick July 4th recap:

8 am to 10:30 am: Dave and Luke run a 5K and go out to breakfast, Zach and I sleep in, then Zach goos contentedly while I catch up on "Flight of the Conchords" with my foot propped up.

11 am: Dave and Luke and I all relax in the pool while Zach snoozes

1 pm: Dave completely crashes, Zach is still asleep, I put Luke down for a nap, and pretty soon we are all far away in a happy little dreamland

4 pm: Luke and I make a special tomato pizza with phyllo dough for Hatcher's party

5:30 to 8:00 pm: Luke and Hatcher have a great time running around at the party; we all eat way too much food

8:30 pm: Luke and Zach get pajamas on, then we pack up in the car to find the highest vantage point in town from which to watch fireworks

9:30 pm: Back home again, Luke is all smiles, a total angel while Dave puts him to bed. Dave says, "What are we going to say thanks for tonight?" and Luke sighs and says, "I just want to say thank you for you and Mommy and Zachy."

I would end on this happy little note, but there is one happier little note to mention too. Today is my ten-year anniversary of moving to California. Ten years ago, I quit my job, said goodbye to a lifetime's worth of friends, tearily left my family behind, and moved in with Dave in a little rent-controlled apartment at the beach. It was a scary leap, but I knew I wanted to be with Dave and I knew I wanted to try a totally new life. Ten years later, I can look back and say it's been thrilling, challenging, amazing, and more than I could have ever asked for. Now I have not only Dave but also two little mini-Daves who are 100 percent Californian.


Tonight I was telling Dave that I had forgotten to buy myself a new Sudoku book while I was at the bookstore. "Hmmm," said Dave. Then he and Luke and Zach disappeared into the bedroom and came out a moment later with a brand-new volume of Sudoku (Brita, are you in on this somehow?)

"Thanks for moving to California, Mommy," said Luke as they all handed me the book.

I can't imagine it any other way.