Men are, that they might have joy

I don't always remember to take life slowly, to savor small moments, but I've had a couple of moments this week that remind me how blessed I am with my family--a wonderful husband and two delightful rugrats (granted, sometimes more delightful than others!). Small moments, like listening to Andrew talk to himself in the bathtub, or holding both children on my lap (which happens more often than I would like--Andrew occasionally thinks he needs to "help" me while I'm nursing Evelyn), sometimes fill me with such a complete feeling of happiness that it surprises me. Unfortunately, such moments aren't usually lasting, but that they happen at all is a small miracle to me.

Small moments aside, we've managed to survive another week. I took both kids out by myself for the first time this week--on Tuesday, we did a little jaunt to the Bean Museum of Natural History (or the "buseum" as Andrew likes to call it). This was actually a perfect first outing, since the museum is small enough that Andrew can run around and I can still keep an eye on him while pushing a stroller. Evelyn, of course, slept through the whole thing and didn't wake up till we were on our way home. We ran into Katy Knight, a girl I went to high school with and who was also a friend from our State College days, who is now working at the museum. Since the last time she saw me I was kidless, I think it surprised her a little to see me with two children in tow.

Andrew chose that afternoon to refuse to nap (delightful child), and no amount of threats or cajolery could change his mind. I was at my wits end when my sister called and said they were going to Sam's club, would we like to come? I was going to refuse--I didn't want to try and wrangle a sleep-deprived Andrew into a shopping cart--until she reminded me that it's sometimes easier to deal with cranky children when other grown-ups are around. And Andrew was, in fact, pretty good. I was proud of myself for surviving two outings in one day. Maybe now we can get out more often, especially since Evelyn is older now and the risks of exposure to germs are a little bit minimized.

Thursday morning I arranged for a play date for Andrew with a little boy down the street, whose grandmother watches him several days a week while his mom attends a class at BYU. Andrew was initially hesitant about going somewhere strange, but he enjoyed the new toys so much (not so much his playmate, since the two of them more or less played by themselves in the same room) that he asked me if he could stay after the other little boy's mom had come to take him home.

Friday, Jeni and my mom and I took all of the kids to Toys R Us. The outing started relatively uneventfully--Andrew insisted on playing with the toy train set as he always does. And then, as almost always happens while he is engrossed in Thomas, he fills his diaper. (Seriously, I think probably a good 75% of the times that we've been to the toy store he's pooped while playing with the trains. He does the same thing in nursery. I'm not sure what it is about trains, but they sure work to keep Andrew regular!) The outing didn't end so well, unfortunately. We told Andrew he could walk as long as he didn't run away, and, sure enough, towards the end he ran away into a side aisle and was put, kicking and screaming into the cart (it took the combined efforts of my mom and I to get him there) and sobbed pretty much until we got him out to the car. One concerned clerk commented, "the poor kid is pretty sad, isn't he?" I couldn't manage much sympathy for him, though.

Saturday morning Dan took Andrew to Target for some groceries and other necessities while I worked on revising a chapter that I co-wrote with two other women, which is due to be published in a book, provided we can actually get it done. Anyway, I was behind on my self-imposed schedule, since Evelyn decided that this past week was her week to be fussy in the evenings, so it was nice to have a little time to myself, even if I spent it writing.

That afternoon, after Andrew's nap, we decided to try out our new double stroller by taking it to the mall. I have spent hours in the last several months researching double strollers online--you could say it was my latest obsession (I am slightly obsessive-compulsive)--before finding one that we thought would work. I ended up ordering a Maclaren Twin Triumph, which wasn't too expensive (for a double stroller), was light-weight, could fit in our trunk--a big prerequisite, since the Graco stroller I initially liked wouldn't fit--had a high weight limit (55 lbs per seat--most are only 40, and with Andrew tipping the scales at 36-7 pounds, that didn't seem like it would work too long), and was pretty durable and could be used equally well indoors or out. Poppy says I'm betraying my Anglophilic nature, since the Maclaren is a British company. Our stroller had arrived the previous day and we (I) were anxious to see how it worked. At any rate, we were quite pleased with the stroller, which moves really easily, fits through doors no problem (even though it's side-to-side) and the handles are tall enough that Dan doesn't have to stoop to push it. We were less pleased, however, with its occupants, who decided to start crying in unison approximately five minutes into our trip. (Evelyn wasn't happy because she wanted to be sleeping, and Andrew wasn't happy because we'd told him no about something). Andrew proceeded to fall apart about every five minutes for the rest of the trip; luckily Evelyn fell asleep pretty quickly once I picked her up. (But it kind of defeated the point of a double stroller, since I carried her most of the time).

I have also, sadly, decided I need to give up chocolate for the duration. I have a horrible sweet tooth, and chocolate is one of my favorites, but this past week Dan and I have both been exhausted by dealing with Evelyn's fussy periods in the evening (which is usually when we get to unwind and recharge). For four or five nights in a row, she would fuss from about 8 until 10:30, not wanting to eat much, and only relaxing if she was held and bounced continuously. Otherwise she would cry. I realize that parents whose babies have colic face much more intense versions of this, but it still wasn't much fun. I read somewhere that sometimes these evening fusses are caused by food sensitivities, and a common culprit is chocolate, so I decided to try an experiment. For the last two days I've cut out all chocolate (I usually have a least a little bit once a day), and, unfortunately, the experiment seemed to work. Evelyn has been much less fussy the past two days, so I think I'm going to have to keep it up, at least for the next several weeks. (Although I may make an exception for Dan's birthday, which is in a couple weeks).

And that's pretty much the highlights from this week. At least, the ones I can remember . . .