Happy New Year

Today, Cora was asking me what made New Year's so special anyway since there weren't any gifts or anything.  I explained the calendar starting over, resolutions, and how it was the same day as the anniversary of her mama and dada's wedding.  Cora being Cora and never missing an opportunity to dress to the nines asked me what the appropriate New Year's Eve-wear was for the little neighborhood party we will be attending tomorrow night.

Me: "Well, most of the time when people go to New Year's parties they wear a lot of glitter and sparkles and colors like gold and silver."

Cora: "Oooh I got a lot of that in my dress up box.  What about tiaras?"

Me: "I actually bought New Year's tiaras today to help us celebrate!  You, me and our girlfriends can wear them and I got hats for the daddies and little boys to wear!"

Cora: "Mama, did you buy plastic tiaras?"

Me: "Well, I think they are made out of plastic? They are very pretty and gold and silver with lots of glitter."

Cora: (silent for a minute) "Real Princesses do not wear plastic tiaras."

Me: Silently agreeing but for once speechless, then wondering if I should add "stop buying Cora Princess related stuff this year" to my New Year's Resolutions. I can hardly imagine what it is going to be like with two little girls around here soon and am already having sympathy for my parents and them raising me and my sister.  At least Allen will be the "buffer zone" so to speak.

***

Speaking of New Year's resolutions and Allen, I am bound and determined to do everything in my power to make the transition from 2-3 kids as "smooth" (hah) as possible... preparing the nursery and baby gear, making meals to put in the freezer, sorting baby girl clothes, catching up with friends as much as possible, ect.

But the biggest challenge I anticipate with the transition will be Allen, who has until now, always been my baby in every sense of the word. I know you are probably gagging because until the past three years, I would have been too.  But, here is the truth of the matter: No one has ever adored me like my little guy.  I am incredibly grateful for this as there have been so many times that I am not sure I would have made it through the day without his smoldering hugs and the tenderness he brings to our home.

While the word "Mama's boy" used to make me shudder (as I dated one in college), most mothers of sons agree with me that there is just something intangibly special in the mom/son relationship.  For a long time, we weren't sure there was going to be another baby Thakkar so I confess that I may have indulged myself in spoiling Allen in more ways than I would like to publicly admit.

But the reality is that the world as we know it around here is about to change in ways that I can only imagine.  While our hope is that the more than four year age gap between Allen and #3 will make things a bit easier than our many friends who had three kids under three years old, I am bracing myself for unfathomable chaos.  In the spirit of hoping for the best and preparing for the worst and all of that.

Anyway, part of the preparations have been to gently steer Allen towards being reasonably more independent.  He finally has one pair of shoes he can put on himself- his rainboots, which thank goodness are also is very favorite and he pretty much wears them every day, rain or shine and is so stinking cute in them.  He is finally 100% potty trained, can finally put on most of his clothes with a small amount of help and has finally become accustomed to having regular quiet time in his playroom when Mama needs to get something done for real.

However, until today there was this one thing left on the list that was making me crazy.  Since the kids were born, one of my top five least favorite things about mamahood is car seats and the loading and unloading and buckling and unbuckling that is becoming increasingly more like manual labor now that I am approaching my third trimester.  Cora and I have been working on teaching Allen how to do this by himself for what seems like months with very little progress and much frustration all around.

The other day I got so desperate I told Allen if he buckled himself in I would even share the chocolate covered popcorn I was secretly hiding from the rest of the family.

Me:  "Allen.  Listen.  Please' please just use your That-Man (in Allenspeak= Batman) muscles and try to pull really hard to get the seatbelt in the buckle."

Allen: "Mama, I not a big boy yet.  I still got mine teeny-tiny muscles."

*awe!*

After that conversation, I decided to throw in the towel for a little while so imagine my surprise today when he jumped in his carseat and buckled himself in like he has been doing it all his life.

I cheered and we high fived and he beamed and said "I a BIG BOY now!!! Choc-corn now please!!"

I hugged him and told him how proud I was.  He proceeded to pull up his shirt sleeves and asked me to "feel his big boy muscles".  Which I gladly did.

Cheers to two kids getting themselves in and out of car seats!!

Now resolving to enjoy the "calm" before the storm...

 Happy New Year!!!

Elf on a Bar

Cora with Jingly Mistletoe's Elf Cottage.  Jingly is sitting on her finger in the photo.

Confession:  I am one of the only mothers in the world, or at least the world we happen to live in, who did not feel compelled to buy an Elf on the Shelf.

Sure, seeing the pictures of wayward elves on Facebook and in my friends' homes is always cute and I enjoy getting a daily report on the shenanigans of the Elf, "Jingle", who lives in Cora's classroom.

I can't even really put into words just why I don't want to do the whole Elf on the Shelf thing because it seems completely fun and harmless but something has just been holding me back.

I anticipated endless demands for the Elf's presence in our house and wasn't sure how to tell the kids that I simply didn't want to get one and couldn't even tell them why.  I figured I would end up throwing in the towel in the spirit of choosing your battles and all of that.

Imagine my surprise when I didn't hear even one complaint about the whole matter from either kid.  So I concluded they must not feel too deprived after all. 

A few days ago, Cora came flying into our bedroom to tell me that "her Elf (named Jingly Mistletoe) had made her bed for her!" (behold a real Christmas miracle- it was indeed made, for the first time ever) and was on the way downstairs to "get the muffins ready for breakfast so Mama wouldn't have to do it!!"(the muffins did somehow find themselves on Cora and Allen's plates).

My understanding is that the Elves sold on amazon.com have a reputation for getting into mischief, something we have more than enough of around here.  So, I suppose I should count my lucky stars that this imaginary Elf is quite industrious and even willing to do family chores.  Maybe I should start leaving Jingly a honey-do list and giving Colin a break.

Although, I was somewhat disappointed when Jingly did not make Cora's bed this morning.  When I asked Cora about it, she said that "Jingly got mommy's cough germs and was spending the day in bed in her cottage". 

So what does Jingly look like?  According to Cora she has long golden hair "like Rapunzel" and and is "smaller than a grain of sand like my sister was when she was first in your tummy Mama", which explains why none of us can see her.  And "Santa flew all of the elves down from the North Pole on a tiny plane that dropped her in our house but the plane was a very quiet plane so that is why it didn't wake us up".  Jingly Misteltoe was getting cold though so Cora built her a gingerbread house to live in yesterday which she carefully placed on our bar of all places, right above the Malbec and Grey Goose, so our wayward dog wouldn't eat it.

I doubted myself for a second today when I was at a friend's house and their family Elf had delivered a letter written in green ink from Santa last night with a special message in it- it was so sweet and the kids seemed so touched by it.  And those amazon elves are so stinking cute and they do have a heirloom gift kind of look about them.

But, if I had ordered one, then we wouldn't have Jingly's presence in our lives this Christmas.  And, one of my greatest treasures is Cora's imagination and the magic it brings to our home.

I can't imagine the past couple of years without Jonathan (Cora's imaginary husband) or their 13 daughter's or Parlay and Blake (Cora's imaginary ladybug friends), ect.

Now if only I get get Jingly to finish wrapping the presents...or doing the ironing...

Jingly's home by Cora the gingerbread architect.

Playing with Jingly and the elf cottage this morning.  Cora has been sleeping in her dress-up gowns lately (which is perfectly fine with me in the spirit of choosing your battles)

Cora tried to make Allen her Elf last month but it only lasted a couple of days.