A Letter to Santa

Junius wrote his first letter to Santa this week. I'm not sure who was more excited about it -- Junius or his daddy.

Thanks to some really wonderful coaching from Abby, they did a great job -- not sure if you can read Daddy's translation of Junius's drawings in the letter (shown left), but here's what it says:

Dear Santa, I have been good this year. Lightning McQueen and Chick Hicks [illustrations of the cars that he's asking for]. Please bring toys to other children too. Merry Christmas to Santa.

After they wrote the letter, we all went up to North Hills (a convenient substitute for the North Pole) and mailed the letter in the special Santa mailbox outside the toy store.

The whole thing was very sweet, but it left me feeling a little conflicted. I grew up "believing" in Santa the same way I "believed" in Pippi Longstocking, the Narnia siblings and the Muppets -- another great character to enjoy. I never felt deprived of the magic of Christmas, but also never had the crushing he's-not-real-and-everything-is-ruined moment.

As a kid, I loved watching Christmas specials, singing carols, decorating the house, waiting for my grandparents to arrive (which really signaled the beginning of the holiday for me). On Christmas Eve, we'd go to mass, then come home and open one present. Once we were in our pajamas, Granny would start looking anxiously out the window declaring, "Oh my stars! I think I see some reindeer out there -- you kids better get to bed!" In retrospect, I'm sure our holidays were filled with plenty of stress for my parents, but for me it was all fun and good times -- even though I didn't really believe that Santa was real.

Now as a mom, I'm at a total loss about how to create that same fun-without-the-pressure for my own kids. They'll be excited about Christmas morning no matter what -- doesn't matter who the presents are from. What I worry about (after listening to my 4-year-old for the past month) is my kids believing that Santa will automatically bring them every gift they want. I'm more worried about their disappointment in Christmas if they believe too much.

At the same time, I don't want to ignore Santa completely -- and I couldn't do that, even if I wanted to, given that he's everywhere and that so many people really want to believe. It's a tough call -- wish I had the answer. I know I'm not alone in this struggle -- see Erin's post at Triangle Mamas.

So tonight, after the kids go to bed, we'll put out a couple of presents under the tree from Santa. And I'll watch them in the morning to see their reaction. And then I'll be thankful that I have another 364 days to figure it out for next time.

Merry Christmas everyone!

First of Many

Marking milestones with Junius when he was a baby is what got me through that first year of craziness -- first smile, first food, first word, first steps and so on. In the early months, time seemed to move so slowly and I remember wondering if we would ever get to a point where he didn't need me every second of the day.

Now it seems like there's a milestone every week, and he's growing up so fast that there are days he doesn't need me at all. It's exciting and sad and amazing -- and although I know I'm not the first mom to feel this way, it's my first time and it sometimes makes me lose my breath.

Since his first camping trip at the end of the summer, Junius has tackled several more "firsts" that I want to document here:

• First time riding his bike to school... This actually made me cry a little bit as he was literally and metaphorically pedaling away from me. He was crazy proud of himself (and I was, too). It's about a mile from our house to his preschool, with several very big (up) hills. He needed a push now and then, but he made it the whole way. Now he rides to school (while I push Pippi in the stroller) at least three times a week.

• First football game... My cousin and brother-in-law will be proud to know that Junius's first time attending football game was at N.C. State's Carter-Finley Stadium. He had fun, but (as you can see from the photo) was a little sensitive about all the noise. Pippi, however, was not the least bit bothered -- she's definitely our party girl.

• First UNC football game... As a double Tar Heel, I couldn't let that NCSU game be the end of it, so we took the kids to their first UNC game in Kenan Stadium. Amazingly, the Heels won, but I think Junius's favorite part was watching the trombone players in the band.
  

• First movie in the theater... Watching Junius take in his first movie theater experience was almost as big a deal as watching him ride his bike to school. We couldn't have asked for a better set-up -- a limited release of Toy Story and Toy Story 2 (double-header with a 10-minute intermission) in 3-D. My husband took the afternoon off from work (shhh, don't tell), we left Pippi with a sitter, and went to the noon show. We were the only people in the theater. Literally. Popcorn, sippy cup and your choice of any seat in the house -- it just doesn't get any better than that.

Next week's milestone? As the ring-bearer in a wedding, Junius will sport his first tuxedo. Mommy will be bringing her camera -- and lots of tissues.

When Junius Grows Up...

One of my favorite books to read with Junius is I Want to Go to UNC by Ripley Rand and Jorin Garguilo. Although I didn't grow up wanting to go to Carolina (in fact, it was my last choice -- but that's another story), it's never too early to get Juni on board with the Heels -- particularly given his track record of supporting, ahem, other ACC schools. I like the book because it introduces him to important places in Chapel Hill; he likes it because it rhymes, has fun illustrations and references lots of career and college options.

Tonight while we were reading, he kept pausing on each page (a ploy, no doubt, to put off the inevitable and impending bedtime) to discuss what he might want to be when he grows up. It was the first time I'd heard him discuss what's on his list, so I was curious to know what he was thinking about. Keep in mind that the options were inspired by the careers in the story, but I just wanted to take a moment to capture them now in case he actually becomes one of them later on:

• jet pilot
• dentist
• pediatric nurse
  
• car mechanic
• tuba player ("For when I'm bery, bery growed up, Mommy.")

I think it's a great list -- surprisingly technical and medical, two areas in which I was never interested. My guess is he's probably thinking more about having cool tools than about solid career paths. Can't fault the kid for liking the accessories

Firsts Night

Saturday night was a momentous one filled with "firsts" for our little family. The big event was Junius's first camping trip -- he went to Hanging Rock State Park with his dad and Grandpa (my FiL). They hiked to a waterfall (see photo of Juni and Daddy), rowed in a boat and slept in a tent during an overnight rainstorm. Juni had a blast, and the big guys had fun sharing the experience with him and each other.

Pippi and I stayed with Nonna (my MiL) while the guys were out roughing it. We took naps (or at least they did while I got some contract work done), went shopping, ate dinner in a restaurant and slept in our beds. It was lovely and civilized -- and too bad that Pip isn't yet old enough for pedicures at the salon.

But even though we weren't out camping, Pippi and I still had our share of firsts...

• It was Pippi's first night without Junius since we brought her home from the hospital. Seems funny to imagine, but in her whole life (minus the first couple days), she's never had dinner without her brother, never had breakfast without her brother, never gone to bed without her brother in the next room. She had an unusually tough time in the restaurant during dinner -- could have just been crabby, but I honestly think she was starting to miss Junius. She was VERY excited to see him when they returned home on Sunday.
  
  
• It was possibly my first night in almost nine years without saying goodnight to my husband. We've certainly spent nights apart because of business travel or weekends with friends, but I don't think I've ever gone to bed without at least saying goodnight to him. Felt really strange and kind of icky.
  
  
• It was probably the first time I went 24 hours without talking to my husband. I expected to get a call sometime during their trip since both my husband and Grandpa had their cell phones with them. When I didn't hear from them, my brain leapt straight into the deep end -- car wreck, bear attack, rock slide, lightning strike, whatever irrational disaster you can think of. The rational part of my brain told me they simply didn't have any reception in the park (which turned out to be true), but sadly that tiny part was no match for all the crazy scenarios that nearly drove me over the edge waiting by the phone. I was so relieved to see them arrive home on Sunday that I proceeded to yell at my husband for not making a Herculean effort to call me and tell me that they were neither injured nor dead.
  
  
• It was only my fifth night away from Junius (out of 1,483 days in his life) -- of the other four, one was a getaway with my husband (so luxurious and restful!) and the other three were spent in the hospital when Pippi was born (neither luxurious nor restful). Don't get me wrong -- I'm looking forward to a night away from both of my children sometime this year, but it still just felt weird not to see him, tell him good-night, tuck him under his blanket before I went to bed.

The good news about all of this is that Junius has convinced his dad that they should bring Pippi and me along on the next camping trip -- might be the ONLY way I'll ever get invited to camp again with my husband (I'll save that story for later, but let's just say the first trip didn't go well and may have caused him to reconsider his intentions to marry me). Honestly, I'm not a huge fan of sleeping on the ground, but at least I won't be waiting by the phone if I get to go along for the ride.

Junius Fest 2009

What starts with Buzz Lightyear and a Lightning McQueen lunchbox and ends with one very tired and slightly sandy four-year-old?

It's J-Fest 2009, a four-day birthday extravaganza!

Here's a list of the highlights from Junius's birthday and the three additional days of celebration:

• Opening presents from the parents (mentioned above)
• Receiving an early morning phone call from his girlfriend (at the end of which he said, "My mom needs to talk to your mom. I love you!")
  
• Riding with the top down on a breakfast trip to Biscuitville with Daddy
• Spending the morning at the park with KT and G (two of his favorite friends), plus a ride in Ms. B's car (which is nearly as exciting as playing at the park) -- including brownies and a Buzz Lightyear kite
  
• Splashing at the pool for more play time with KT and G
• Getting FOUR WHOLE DOLLARS in the mail (three of which will go into his bank, where he is "saving for college," and one of which he plans to spend on chips at the pool snack bar)
• Eating dinner at Chick-Fil-A (with KT and the fam) -- including more presents, ice cream and time to run around
• Listening to a sweet birthday voicemail (to which he tried to talk and respond through the answering machine)
• Hosting a pool party with four grandparents, two parents, one sister and 12 friends -- including cupcakes, Chex Mix (his favorite snack) and juice boxes
• Grilling out cheesburgers and hot dogs for dinner
  
• Opening presents from friends and family, then trying to play with all of them at once because every single one is "just what I have always wanted!" (especially the "Mack" truck from the movie Cars)
  
• Using power tools to help Pop Pop build a super-duper sandbox in the backyard, then playing in sandbox after Daddy filled it with more than 1,200 lbs of sand
• More time at the pool, more cheeseburgers, popsicles and play...
  

The next morning, his first words to me were, "Did any more of my presents arrive?"

Dude can get his money's worth out of a birthday. Guess I can add that to the list of things he seems to have inherited from his mother.

The Days Are Long, But the Years Go By So Quickly

His birthday should have been 10 days ago. He comes from a long line of late bloomers, so we shouldn't have been surprised when he didn't arrive on time. But I expected him every day anyway, pacing up and down my street, bulging in the outrageous heat, sure I would give birth any moment (as was my sweet neighbor, watching me go back and forth).

Finally, in the wee hours of July 8, after two days of painful back labor, my water broke. I heard the pop, as I lay propped up sleepless in my bed.

Twelve hours later with a mediocre epidural and all the pitocin they could give me, he still wasn't moving. Still no progress, no baby.

C-section, whirlwind, wedged in, it's a boy, whisked away. And then I blacked out. When I came to, not sure if maybe I'd died in the process, I was a mother. Just like that.

He was beautiful, round and tiny, with soft brown hair and huge hands. He was, as my husband first described him while I was coming out of the fog, "a champion baby." I knew I would always love him (he looked so much like his dad, how could I not?), but it took a little time for me to fall in love with him. Took some time to decide what it meant to be a mom.

I was overwhelmed, over-tired, unprepared for recovery from surgery. He only slept when we held him, so we held him day and night. He nursed around the clock for hours on end and refused to take a bottle. He cried and I cried with him. We accepted lots of help from friends and family.

Then one day, he smiled at me. And before I knew it, I was his Mommy and he was my love. And then he crawled and became a redhead and walked and turned blond and jumped and ran and used a fork and talked in sentences and pedaled his tricycle and slept through the night in his own big bed and made friends and used the potty and jumped into the big pool and ohmystars he's four.

Just like that.

Happy birthday, Junius! I love being your Mommy and I love watching you be you.

Super Junius Strikes Back

Yesterday afternoon at our neighborhood pool (which was poop-free, thankyouverymuch), Junius was having a grand time with his newest skill -- jumping into the shallow end while I stand in the pool with Pippi and cheer. Although it might not sound like a lot, it's a big deal for a little boy who was not the least bit interested in the big pool at the beginning of the summer.

While I was trying to keep Pip entertained (she was much less interested in being in the big pool than her brother was), another slightly-older kid in the pool must have made some sort of age-related comment to Junius. I missed what she said, but when I tuned in, this is what I heard...

"I'm not a baby!" he shouted, flashing his sternest, most angry-eyes face. "I went to Superhero camp last week! Rrrrrrarrr!"

Then he splashed the water and shot her another tough-guy look, while he hopped up and down because he's only just tall enough to touch in the big pool.

"That's right, you tell 'em," I said to Junius (I wasn't being mean, I was just trying to encourage him -- he's not usually very assertive, so we've been working on his ability to stand up for himself). "You say, 'I am Super Junius and I am four!'"

"No, Mommy," he said, as if explaining to a baby. "I'm not four yet."

Oh, right. Two more days of being three. My boy is all imagination, but he's still a stickler for accuracy.

Photo taken last summer when he still required swimmies and catching and lots and lots of coaxing.

Here Comes the I-love-you Man

Junius spent the past week at Superhero Camp through a great arts school near downtown. He had a blast, learning to fly, making a superhero belt and doing whatever else superheroes do. In addition to talking about Superman and the rest, they also talked about real life superheroes, like firefighters and garbage collectors and other people who make our lives better.

Every day he came home with a different stamp on the back of his hands -- his reward, he told me, for doing such a good job. On the last day, when I was admiring his hands, I noticed that the stamps that day were the ASL sign for "I love you" -- an image of a hand with the thumb, forefinger and pinky up, while the other two fingers are folded down.

That's so sweet, I thought to myself, that they're teaching the kids to be loving and kind superheroes.

When I asked Junius what the pictures were on his stamp, he lit up and announced, "It's a web-spinner hand, Mom! It's awesome!" Then he demonstrated by holding his hand out and pretending to shoot webs out of his wrist.

Sometimes, I am so not cool.

My big boy

I'm not exactly sure when he crossed over, but somehow my baby boy has turned into a big boy. I guess it's been happening gradually, but in the past week there have suddenly been so many signs.

• Thanks to a recent growth spurt, he is now tall enough to climb over the baby gate at the bottom of the stairs without assistance.
  
  
• He had his first check-up at the dentist. All four of us were there (three for cleanings -- Pippi doesn't have enough teeth yet), so that we could take turns sitting with Junius. But when the hygienist called his name, he trotted on back by himself, climbed up into the chair and acted like he'd done this a hundred times before. And no cavities!
  
  
• He says he likes the movie Toy Story because it's scary.
  
  
• He can throw a frisbee well enough to actually play "catch" with his dad. (Not so much with me -- terrible at frisbee.) And he's fast on those long legs.
  
  
• We took down the safety rails on his bed -- he doesn't need them anymore.
  

But perhaps the biggest sign incorporates two major accomplishments: potty training and learning to sleep through the night. A few nights ago, my husband and I heard a noise as we were falling asleep. When the light suddenly came on in the hall bathroom, we realized it was Junius -- he had climbed out of his bed without calling for anyone and gone into the bathroom. We listened, amazed, as he peed (standing up, no less), put his underwear and pajama pants back on, turned off the light, walked back to his room, climbed into his bed and went back to sleep. No assistance needed.

But in spite of all this growing up, or maybe because of it, he's added a new regular saying to his repertoire that became an immediate favorite: "Mommy -- know what? I love you TOO much!"

That's my baby!

Growing boy

I think consignment sales are great for baby and toddler clothes -- especially in the first two years, babies grow through the clothes so fast that they hardly get messed up and it doesn't make sense to spend a lot on new clothes. Every time I go to a consignment sale, I think about all the things I have stored away in closets and the attic and I promise that next time I'll bring some items to consign.

And so now that Junius is 3 1/2, I'm finally forcing myself to make good on that promise. Earlier today I started wading through the three large storage bins filled with baby boy clothes -- I've already passed along the generous hand-me-downs we received from friends, but there were plenty of things left that seemed like good candidates for a sale.

As I sorted through the clothes, I realized I was putting more pieces back in the bin than I was pulling out. Every time I looked at a little striped romper or tiny velcro sandals, all I could see was my sweet baby Junius. It was the outfit he wore on his first day of preschool, the swimsuit he wore for his first trip to the beach, the shoes he wore when he started walking on his own. I was amazed at how many things I'd forgotten that came rushing back, the clothes serving as photo reminders of how much he's grown. Keeping the clothes makes no sense, but somehow giving them away started to feel like letting go of my baby.

And that's exactly what I have to do.

He's trying so hard to be big -- writing his name (or at least a backwards "jumpin J"), riding his bike, using the potty, sleeping through the night (thank goodness!) -- and it's my job to help him, even if that just means getting out of the way. Even though it's scary sometimes, it's also exciting to watch him grow. And keeping his baby clothes isn't going to slow anything down.

The clothes he's wearing these days aren't likely to make it as hand-me-downs -- his jeans have holes in the knees and his shoes are so stinky that I have to keep them outside. So I will keep just a few favorites from those crazy baby days and let go of the rest.

Who knows? Maybe one day I'll have a grandson who can wear that seersucker onesie from Junius' first portrait -- it's the one that my mother-in-law saved from when my husband was a baby. Guess I'm not the only mommy who had trouble letting go of her baby boy.