“I’m glad this stinkin’ year is over.”

Brock and Ronan fell on the stairs yesterday.

It was a traumatic situation for both of them, I think.  Brock tripped over the cat, and tried to regain his balance, smashed his knee through the dry-wall, and still ended up unable to catch himself.  He fell onto Ronan’s head.  Ronan screamed like the world had ended, and Brock worried that he had severely hurt his son.  I knew they were both probably fine, and Ronan stopped crying in under 3 minutes.  He nursed, and then happily started jabbering, playing and laughing.

When I left for work, I told the nanny to call me if he started throwing up or if she couldn’t wake him up from a nap.  I never heard from her, so everything was okay.

I don’t feel guilty that I didn’t rush him to the E.R.  It would have been a wasted trip.

However, last night, one of our physicians, a co-worker and I were talking about the phenomenon of dropping babies.  We agreed, unanimously, that it is a good thing if mothers drop the baby first.  In my own situation, Ronan fell off of my lap when he was less than 2 months old.  He was sitting up with his legs hanging off of the right side of my legs, and I was steadying him with both hands.  I let go of him with my right hand, and reached across to grab something on my left, and he overbalanced forward.  He fell on the floor, screamed, and was just fine.  I felt like WORST mother in the world.  But when Brock told me he had let Ronan accidentally fall off of the bed, I couldn’t really be that mad at him – I had already dropped the baby.  What could I say that wouldn’t be hypocritical?

I told my co-workers that it was a good thing that I had dropped Ronan first, because if he had done it… I probably wouldn’t have let him stay home alone with the baby any more.

My ultrasound cohort quickly agreed.  She had fallen while walking up the stairs with her 7 or 8 month old infant, much like Brock did, and her baby girl suffered a big dent in her skull.  They spent HOURS in the hospital, multiple tests, and I’m sure what was a horrible, harrowing experience.  But, like she said, if it had been her husband who had fallen and allowed the very same thing to happen, she probably wouldn’t have been able to forgive him.

And then the radiologist told us that when we finally have our second children, we wont even bat an eye when something like that happens.  It’s all a matter of perspective.

Well.  After nearly 4 days of trying to figure out how I was going to get my camera back from Brock’s parents house, I found it in the diaper bag.  Epic fail.  Better late than never, right?  [Warning: this post is picture heavy.]

I want to start out by sharing a Christmas tradition Brock and I decided to start for our family.  We want to continue this as our children grow, and have it be something they look forward to every year just as much as they do Santa.

LEGO!

We bought one of the Lego City sets that has over two thousand pieces.  Our plan is to always build them together as a family on Christmas Eve.  We started it this year, and it was a rousing success.  After we put the little ones to bed, we broke out the instruction booklets.  They were more like novels.  There were three tiers to the “Corner Cafe” and six of us to built it.  It took us nearly four hours.  I would love to say that I took pictures of the whole process, but I honestly forgot to take any pictures until the very end.  Everyone had so much fun, and thought it was a great idea for a new tradition.

The ground level.

Bottom two floors.

The final structure!

Allender Christmas Tradition!

Christmas morning, Brock, Ronan and I were the first ones up.  We made breakfast, and waited for everyone else to get up.  Ed was next, then Thomas.  Ted and Jane woke up, and we all ate in the kitchen while we waited on Brady.  Brady is a NOTORIOUSLY late sleeper, and nearly impossible to wake up.  Brock finally took Ed and Ronan downstairs to try to wake him up… and he came upstairs immediately, upset that we hadn’t woken him up when everyone else got up.  Sorry Brady.

On to the presents!  Jane handed out all of the gifts.  Ed got RIGHT into it, he had no problem figuring out the point of presents, nor how fun they were to tear into.  Ronan ripped open his first package, and was content to play with the paper from that for the rest of the morning.  It was so much fun watching the kids get excited.  Ronan and Ed got pretty excited too.

My best gift?  The complete set of Sex and the City.  (Home Run, Jane!)

Brock’s best gift?  Ahahaha, his new PC.  Or his new TV.  But he also got a Keurig one cup coffee maker, which rocks.

Ronan’s best gift?  Over all, probably the ball pit.  But on Christmas day, the drum was a big hit.

Ed’s best gift?  Check this out.

Hope everyone had a wonderful, happy, fun-filled Merry Christmas!

So, I’m upset and I was going to sit and write an email.   Then I realized that I hadn’t posted a blog in several days, which is unacceptable, so I decided to write a blog instead.

Why am I upset?

I have spent the last two and a half years of my life as the happy female half of a wonderful couple.  My husband is a ‘gamer’ in that he loves video games, and spends as much time playing as he can get away with.  However, he’s always been reasonable about his playing time, and has never really left me feeling like I wasn’t getting to spend enough time with him.  Until recently.  I have discovered that the only reason I wasn’t a gamer-widow more often was because my husband didn’t have a computer that allowed him to play as frequently or for as long as he wanted.

Then he got a new PC for Christmas.

I now remember why I always swore to myself that I would never get involved with a man that played video games again.

What really breaks my heart is that I had such a great Christmas, and want to post about our holiday, our gifts, and all the wonderful pictures that I took… but all I can think about is how much it sucks that my husband wants to sit upstairs on his computer and play.   Better yet, instead of wanting to come downstairs for a while, he wants to baby-proof the UPSTAIRS, and have Ronan and I go up there with him.   Because sitting next to him while he’s completely absorbed in a game is JUST as good as spending quality time with him anywhere else in the house.

Hold on, I forgot to hold up my “sarcasm” sign.

This morning, when I got up with Ronan, the boy whom had just spent the most HORRIBLE nights sleep in bed with me, Brock asked me if I wanted him to get up instead so they could let me sleep.   Only I figured out this trick… the one where he says he’s going to get up, but instead lets Ronan stay up and play in bed with us until I get mad and tell them to leave.  After that, he brings Ronan back into the room any time he’s fussy or tired, so I don’t get any real sleep.   Today, I said no instead, and told Brock to sleep in so I could have a good nap in the afternoon before my midnight shift.

Ronan and I got up at 7:00.  Brock got up at 9.  I was watching my Christmas present, P.S. I love you, when he got out of bed.  I knew he had no interest in watching it with me for the third time, so he went upstairs to his computer.   I put Ronan down for a nap at 10.  My movie ended at 10:30.  Ronan woke up at 12:00 (blessed 2 hour naps!), and Brock was still up on his computer.   At 1:00, I had decided that it was time for me to have a nap, and asked if Brock was planning on coming down “any time today?”   He finished his game, told his buddies that he had to go, and then came downstairs.   I said that I wanted to sleep for a few hours, and went to the guest room so baby naps wouldn’t wake me.  I woke up at 4:30, and got in the shower for work.

The whole point of that WHOLE paragraph?   Brock and I spent exactly ZERO time together today.   It has just begun, and it’s already starting to REALLY get to me.

What’s even more, this is our evening text conversation:

7:17pm – Me – I love you.

8:15pm – Me – Where are you?

8:16pm – Brock – I love you. Ronan is being mad.

8:16pm – Me – Oh no Did you give him oatmeal?

11:23pm – Me – Are you playing on your computer?

12:01am – Brock – Kinda. Been in and out of the bed room a lot.

12:01am – Me – Baby troubles?

12:28am – Me – Are you gone to bed?

12:36am – Me – I wish you would answer me. I worry when you don’t. I love you and I hope you aren’t having a bad night.

1:12am – Me – I guess I’m just gonna assume you gont tired and fell asleep. I’ll see you in the morning.

3:07am – Brock – Going to bed now. Love you.

Ok, seriously?  I know games are mad fun and shit, but it doesn’t take THAT LONG to answer a text.  This is an inside joke, and you will not get it, but ALL I’M ASKING FOR IS A LITTLE CONSIDERATION.

I know it’s new, and the shiny fun-ness of it will probably wear off.  I’m just hoping the fun-ness goes away before all of my patience does.

Hello again, sweet boy.

Another month has gone by.  I feel like I wrote my last letter to you yesterday.  I only wish the time would go by slower so I could spend more days with you.

This month, you got to meet Nana and Grumpa.  They loved you SO much… and you loved them!  I still can’t believe how quickly you warm up to strangers, with a smile and then with play.  They bought you some amazing gifts for Christmas  – a ball pit, and a giant teddy bear.  I don’t think you could have been happier.

You’ve been doing some major growing this month, son.  You’re 31 inches tall!  And 21 pounds.  Everyone that meets you tells me how BIG you are for just 10 months old.  You’ve been cruising around the house, holding on to every object you can find, trying to walk but not quite ready yet.  You’ll be running around with us chasing after before we know it.  You talk all the time, just like your mum!  A little blabbermouth.  Daddy loves it.  You make him laugh all day.  And in just a few days, you’ll be experiencing your very first Christmas!  We are so excited.

You still don’t sleep, my baby boy.  It gets harder and harder as you get older and older.  You get so frustrated with us, and can’t communicate, so you pinch.  I dearly hope that’s something you grow out of.  Daddy handles you with patience better than I do right now, so he’s been loving you to sleep every night.  You love your daddy so very much… always full of smiles and laughs when you see him.

Ronan, you clap and cheer!  You crawl so fast, and you LOVE to throw things.  Flint is still your favorite toy, and you laugh when you chase him.  You HATE getting dressed, and you would rather crawl around without a diaper on than anything else in the world.  Bathtime is always so much fun.

You are an amazing little human, Ronan.  I’m lucky to be part of your life.

Love,

Mum.

I can’t do anything right.

I hate saying this, but I’m so tired of being a mom right now.  Ronan is getting on every single one of my nerves, and I have NO patience for him.  I can’t put him to sleep, no matter how hard I try.  I just keep getting more frustrated, and more frustrated until I have to call Brock in and get HIM to put Ronan down for a nap.

He’s being so… annoying.  He keeps pinching the hell out of me.  My whole chest and arms are covered in pinch marks.  He grabs a WHOLE fist full of flesh, and squeezes as hard as he can.  If I pull his hand away or tell him no, he gets MADDER and does it again.  Or he pulls my hair.  As hard as he can, reaches up, grabs a whole handful and yanks faster than I have the chance to stop him.  He kicks me in the stomach so hard I start to feel sick.  And by this point, I just want nothing to do with him.  I don’t care if he sleeps, cries, or stays awake until New Years, I just don’t want to have to look at him.

Shit.  Is this normal?  I just want to cry.  I don’t want to look at him.

Walking for Nana.

I have been woefully and unforgiveably absent from my blog.  There is no excuse for that.

Oh wait.  There is.

My parents where here for 5 amazing days, and it was wonderful.  It makes me realize how close I am with them, how much I love them, and how silly I am for living so far away.  Sadly, I don’t really want to move closer to COLDmonton.  That’s what I’m calling it now.  -40?  Yeah, it’s called COLDmonton.  I want my parents to move closer to here.  My dad doesn’t like the culture, but he’d get used to it.  And after a few years, he’d even stop complaining about it.

Right.  That will happen.

Anyways.  I feel like I should apologize for my lack of substantive material, but really… I’ve had such a great time.  And I’m totally not sorry.  I wish I had more pictures.  I always say I’m going to take so many pictures it will be annoying – and then I never do.  I REALLY wish I had taken at least one picture of mom and dad with Ronan.  I really wish I had some way to capture how incredible it is to see your baby having a blast with his grandparents.  I wish I could share the emotion I feel when I watch my dad kiss my son on the cheek, and see my mom rock him to sleep.  I can’t imagine a better feeling.

I just wanted to share the few photos that I DO have.  Too few!

Nana’s first meeting with Ronan.  “Got your toes!”

“Sooooo big!”

Cuddles with Nana already.  Not shy at all!

Not so sure about the guy with the beard.  I’ll keep the cheerio’s between us.

Nana’s have the best laps for cuddles.