Mental Notes

Month Thirty-Three-ish

2012-02-07T10:23:00.001-05:00

Dear Sam,
I thought since I am home with you today, I should have no excuse to find time to write something to you. You are home sick with strep, and I feel so bad for you. This is day two at home, so you are doing much better, but after your nap yesterday you said to me, "My froat hurts." Your tonsils are the size of boulders in your tiny throat and your voice is like a little bubble. I feel so bad for you, and you certainly know how to milk this (good for you!) Here you are holding "fwuffy, tiny Green Lantern" that I bought you because I couldn't resist your sick cuteness. I am a sucker.

The kid is working it for the camera. No lie.

A funny thing about you being sick -- you don't act sick. Well, I guess in the normal way. It turns out you act mean and angry. Last week we had a couple reports about you pushing kids down at school. It was totally stressing me out. I mean, I didn't want you to be the mean kid. We tried to talk to you about it and make sure you knew it was wrong. You kept saying, "I push kids at school. I be bad." Like, you have just resigned to the fact that this was your path in life. Oh, my sweet little meat-head. It just broke my heart. But, all is good now -- we figured out that every time you are sick, you are a bad boy. We will continue to work on it.

You are getting so big and grown up. It is so hard to remember the baby days anymore. Your favorite food is pizza and you ask for it every day. You love the movie "The Sandlot" and say, "You're killing me Smalls!" Your favorite book is "Trick-or-Treat Marley" (of "Marley and Me" fame) and we have to read it every. single. night. Seriously. It has gotten to the point where your dad cannot handle it.

Robin has never looked cuter.

You play Batman and Robin with Abe, and never have a problem being Robin or whoever Abe tells you to be. I am not going to lie, you don't get along all the time, but it is pure magic when you play together in your costumes, running around the house, speaking to each other with special superhero dialogue.


Snowing.

I am not really down with you growing up so fast and turning into a big boy. Not cool (as Abe would say.) This morning you woke up super early and called out my name, so I went into your room. You said you needed to blow your nose (!?) so I went to get you a tissue and then brought you back into bed with me. I lay there thinking that there is nothing better than snuggling with your kids, and then I realized that I won't get to do that in a few years. I mean, what teenage boy wants his mom all snuggling with him in his bed? Uhh, hopefully not mine. So, I guess I will just enjoy this while I can. I will buy you fluffy superheros, make you pizza, and read you Marley and Me trick-or-treating books as long as you will let me.

Love,
Mama

Super Indy

2012-02-03T12:45:00.000-05:00

Photo courtesy of Ward's iphone.

I am still buzzing (not drunkenly buzzing, but happily buzzing) from my day downtown yesterday, visiting the SuperBowl Village and also seeing a live taping of Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. I want to do a big recap of everything, because there was so much to comment on from the palpable energy downtown, to the nicest port-a-potties I have ever seen, to how I have fallen in deeper love with Jimmy Fallon (sorry Jake). Ward graciously let me use his other ticket for the Jimmy Fallon show, and also put up with my silly school girl excitedness and sing-songy glee.

Until I get some more time, here is a photo of me just chillaxing on Washington St. with a beer. Because the city has gone open container, ya'll.

I am so proud of this city. They did such a great job. More later ...

Happy Birthday Dad (Rob, Big Rob, etc.)

2012-01-27T14:38:00.000-05:00

My mom said when I was little I used to tell people that I was Olive Oyl and my dad was Popeye. I was obsessed with that movie (hmmm, wonder where my kid gets it from.) For some reason thinking about my dad's birthday made me think of it today.

I yam what I yam in part because of you. Happy Birthday Dad!

How to take awesome Christmas card photos

2012-01-23T15:35:00.003-05:00

I don't know about you guys, but taking the photo for the Christmas card stresses me out every year. In my mind, the perfect photo of my two children is snapped. They look cute, they look loving, and I look like the perfect parent. RIGHT!? I mean, my children are ALWAYS perfectly quaffed, nicely dressed, and smiling sweetly. DUH.

Well, it never goes well. And, it is a small miracle that I end up with any photo that is good enough to even send. But, such is life. This year, I wanted to share my favorite outtakes, and of course my pro photography tips.

I started the photo shoot outside, in the freezing cold temperatures, because I really like the background of the brick. Because I am a skilled photographer, and skilled photographers enjoy edgey, rugged-like backgrounds like brick. Also please note that I put gel in my children's hair. Pro-tip: This makes them look handsome.


Result: Sam looks a little too happy, Abe looks unnatural touching Sam lovingly.

The 20 degree temps are really starting to get to them. Amateurs.Because I am such a good mom, I let Abe wear his Spider-Man gloves. Pro-tip: It is always good to tell siblings to "hug." It will always look natural.

Result: Sam likes to "hug" forcefully.

Because the kids were whining about being cold (divas) we moved indoors. I positioned them in front of the Christmas tree. Pro-tip: It's good to include festive things in holiday cards. Abe was making me pay for this photoshoot by shooting me daggers with his eyes, and instilling years and years of guilt that I cannot erase from my memory. Sam is rocking his hair gel.

Result: It's time to start high stakes bribing.

The bribing worked! Abe certainly has a price. I must have told them to get close together. It doesn't look awkward AT ALL. Abe is working it, but his "old man grimace" is not working for me. Sam looks frightened. Pro-tip: It is not good if your child smiles as if he is scared.

Result: Close, but no cigar.

And finally, success by accident:

Parenting fail?

2012-01-18T11:12:00.000-05:00

About a week ago, I was cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, and Abe was finishing up his nightly after-dinner bowl of cereal.
"Mama, what does the middle finger mean?"

"Whaaaaaaat!?! Why are you asking me this!?"

"Because I got in trouble for it at school today. I didn't mean to! I don't know what it means, I just know it is bad. That's what my teacher said."

"Well, what were you doing with your middle finger?"

"I was just pointing at something, like this." He then demonstrates pointing at his cereal bowl on the table, with his middle finger.

"Okay, well, don't do that anymore. I know you didn't mean to do it, so that is okay."

"What does it mean?"

"It means you don't like someone ... it's like saying something mean to someone."

A few days pass (after of course, he told the story to Jake. One thing that kid did get from me was a guilty conscience. God love him.) Sam, Abe, and I were having our normal morning feuds -- fighting over what they would eat for breakfast, how many toys they could take for Show and Share, you know the drill. At one point, I was standing in the kitchen, coat on, all ready to go, yelling something to Abe along the lines of , "COME ON! HURRY UP! LET'S GO!!"

I hear his little stomping footsteps climbing the stairs and then the words that rang loud and clear:

"Ughh, I am coming ... MIDDLE FINGER!!!"

My favorite Christmas present

2012-01-16T10:36:00.002-05:00

I am about to get all sappy here, so for those who would rather not partake in it, consider this a warning.

As you all probably know, my children are spoiled rotten. They have been blessed with four grandparents, two uncles, an aunt, and a GREAT grandma to bestow riches upon them at every holiday. They have every single toy imaginable for boys ages 2-5, and a jampacked toy room to prove it. Jake and I joke that we have gotten them about two toys each during their lives, because everyone else buys them stuff. I realize that this is not their fault, and it is only because they are loved very much and people just want to make them happy. But, as a parent, it is important for us to make sure they are thankful and grateful for what they have.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I am a fan of the magic of Christmas. But, I also know that part of the magic is really less about the actual gift and more about the anticipation, surprise, and joy. Etc. Etc. And, a lesson I have learned as I was growing up was that it is not about the gift, but more about the thought. When I finally got old enough to pick out and purchase gifts for my parents, I always became stumped on what to get for them. Whenever I asked my dad, he would always tell me that his favorite gift was the popsicle frame with my picture in it from first grade. How do you top that!? Let me tell you, I am never going to be that cute again.

I digress. So, this year when Baba and Rob (my parents) arrived to our house to celebrate Christmas, the normal whirlwind ensued. They came with loads of bags – gifts, wine, food. Our kids were dying to open just one thing – seeing all of the presents wrapped were causing them to hyperventilate and convulse. So, Baba told them they could open one thing. They opened up the package and found it to be “A Charlie Brown Christmas” book. But, this book was special, it was read by Baba and Rob.

Sam dug right into the book, and as soon as he heard their voices he started repeating, “That’s Baba! That’s Rob! That’s Baba! That’s Rob!” My parents sort of laughed and rolled their eyes at hearing their voices reading dialogue for Charlie Brown and Lucy. The book got about 10 minutes of play, and then the boys were onto something else. Charlie Brown got put up on a shelf and left their awhile. Forgotten about since Christmas.

But, this weekend, Sam pulled the book out and placed it on his lap. He opened it up and patiently waited for the music to start, and let Baba and Rob take him through the story, page for page. I listened and watched. I pictured my parents sitting down and recording their voices. I imagined that there was some bickering involved when they had to decide who would read what. I am sure there were some outtakes. I am sure they spent some time making it just right for those boys. What a gift it is for them to always have their Baba and Rob there to read them a story. What a gift for me.

Sam took the book in the car, too.

I know that it will be a few years before they understand the message from "A Charlie Brown Christmas," and maybe even a few more years after that until they understand the gift of having it read to them by Baba and Rob. One day that will be one of their favorite presents, too.

(Phew. That was rough. Back to your regularly scheduled blogging tomorrow.)

Don't need no credit card to ride this train

2012-01-09T13:54:00.000-05:00

The title of this blog post really means nothing. I mean, it is a lyric from the song "Power of Love" but it does not really pertain to anything I will be writing about. Although, I am feeling very "Power of Love-esque" about 2012. Just wanted to throw that out there. I think this is going to be a good year, and for every single day of this year so far (all nine of them) I have had a positive attitude. So take THAT 2011. (FYI- I thought 2011 sucked a big one.)

Anyways, after getting a semi-frantic phone call from my Gaga worrying about my well being (and possible demise) due to my absence from the internet for more than week, I thought I should try to update more frequently. (BTW, I wonder where I get the worrying and jumping to unrealistic conclusions from????)

The Drlich family has been good. Jake and I have been busy trying to better ourselves and exercise and eat well and "detox" from the Holiday season. So far, our regime has been going strong, but it has only just begun.

The boys have been busy playing with all of their Christmas toys and costumes and fighting up a storm. They love to fight now. Physically. It is totally awesome. I am so looking forward to when their bodies triple in size and weight and they are wrestling throughout my house. I will have more of an update on them later ... As always, there are new things coming out of Sam's mouth, and new ponderings from Abe.

I feel like they are both on the cusp of such big transitions -- Sam is in the process of potty training (KILL ME NOW) and Abe is starting to read and preparing to go to Kindergarten. And, pretty soon we will be moving them into the same room with some new beds (Thanks to Baba and Rob). I am sure there will be plenty of stories about that one. Especially because Abe is not really on board with this because, "Sam will keep him up at night." God love my little sleeper.

And, for anyone that cares -- our house is off the market and will stay that way indefinitely. Who knows, maybe we will be in this house forever? So, in the spirit of embracing our home, we have taken to giving it a little bit of TLC and changing all of the things that have been bothering us. I have a gigantic list of all the projects I want to do from painting rooms to painting the exterior of the house. We will see what happens.

And, last but not least, our computer has died. Actually, it is Ward's old computer. He named it Tom Servo, I think. Anyways, Tom Servo peaced out on us. So, I will try to post as often as I can with as much photos as I can manage.

Oh, and Ozzie. He is fine. He stopped shitting all over the house so that is awesome. I am not giving him eye contact yet.

Merry Christmas from the Drlich Family!

2011-12-24T12:56:00.000-05:00

Wishing everyone a very merry Christmas!

We bought a zoo!

2011-12-22T18:09:00.000-05:00

No. We didn't buy a zoo. I just really wanted to use that movie title in a blog post somehow. This post is really supposed to be about Christmas. But, currently I am about to lose my shit because Sam has not taken a nap today and he has just eaten three peanut M&Ms. Apparently three is still too many M&Ms for Sam. He is acting like a lunatic.

Anyways, please feel free to peruse the following photo.

I am not exactly sure what year this was ... 1984 I think. There is a lot going on in this photo, but I especially like the fact that both Robby and I are wearing robes. As if we were civilized. I also enjoy the antique television and the vintage Memory game.

Anyway, if you are also interested in some of my favorite Christmas movie picks read this.

Merry Christmas!

Month Thirty-Two

2011-12-12T16:09:00.001-05:00

Dear Sam,
It seems as though it has been way too long since I last wrote about you. Especially because you are in your most adorable stage. (Please let me not be jinxed by writing that.) I forgot how much I love when kids start to talk and talk and talk. There is no stopping your talking. And I have to say, the ability to communicate your needs and desires have really helped you out. Let's just say your fuse is pretty short.

But, let's talk about all that is adorable of the Sambino. First off, you have suddenly taken an interest in helping me clean up after dinner. You love to "wash dee deeeshes" and if I do not let you help, there is an all out mutiny on our hands. So, I have learned to suck it up and pull over a chair to the sink and let you go to town with the sink-hose-sprayer. I am not going to lie, there have been a couple charging cord casualties due to flooded counter-tops, but I just cannot deny your willingness to help me out. You also love to spray off the table ... and the windows ... and the floor ... and the walls .... etc. etc.

Washin dee deeeshes.

You are Christmas' number one fan. You love everything Christmas, large or small. We spent 25 minutes in two aisles at Walgreens, just so you could take in all that is Christmas. We played every single animatronic toy that sang a Christmas song, three times. You looked at every single ornament, candy, and card. You just can't get enough. You sing Christmas songs all the time -- Jingle Bells, Santa Claus is Coming to Town, Deck the Halls. Your two favorite movies are "The Grinch" and "A Christmas Story," (you call it "The Ralphie Movie.") which neither are really age appropriate. You said, "Abe is Ralphie and I am Randy!"

Abe: stressed. Sam: mischievous.

You and Abe have been playing together more often, and in a nicer way. Last Saturday morning I had to check on you three times because you were so quiet. That never happens in our house. Sometimes you play quietly together, and sometimes you play loudly, running around the house in costumes, jumping off the couches. I was starting to get worried that you had skipped all of the baby toys and went straight to playing with whatever Abe likes, but lately you have been doing your own thing. You just love playing with Mr. Potato Head (or Mr. Toe Head as you call him.) You still have a soft spot for Elmo. All you want for Christmas is Elmo Bus, which is driven by One-Two-Three-Ahhh-Ahh-Ahhh (The Count. And yes, you call him One-Two-Three-Ahhh-Ahh-Ahhh every time. Do you see what I mean when I say ADORABLE?!)

Sam and his Daddy.

You are still super active and busy, and a bit of a daredevil. I am not quite sure how we haven't ended up in the ER with you (again, I sure hope I haven't jinxed this), but getting a bloody nose from bashing into something is pretty standard for you. In fact, when you get hurt, you get more upset that you cannot continue playing. Bloody noses really piss you off, because you HAVE to sit still for at least five minutes so the bleeding stops. This frightens me a bit.

Baby Sam in all his chubby glory.

My friend Laurin sent me this photo of you when you were a baby. First, my head exploded from the adorableness of your face. Then, after reassembling my head, I could not believe how much you have grown since then. You are now a running, laughing, singing, counting, bouncing machine. Your chubby baby legs are now svelte and long, and your belly is replaced by a freakishly long torso, just like your father. But, your eyes and your smile still express the same joy as they did when you smiled ever so freakishly much as an infant. You are just one joyful dude. Thank you for bringing so much of it to our family.

Love,
Mama

The Gravitation Phenomenon

2011-12-02T09:58:00.000-05:00

It was a Thursday morning, like any other. I had woken the boys up, gotten them dressed, fed them breakfast. We happened to have 15 extra minutes before we had to go to work and school. The boys were playing happily in their playroom, so I decided to grab a cup of coffee, go into the other room and watch a little "Today Show." The following is a re-enactment of my thoughts and the activities that followed.

***
What a glorious morning! I feel so calm and stress free, and I think I will take a moment to relax and watch the "The Today Show" with these extra moments I have because I am a totally organized and efficient mother of two, young boys.

The sounds of trains clacking against the train table, and tiny train dialogue can be heard two rooms away. Some giggles escape from the room.

My beautiful children are playing so nicely together in their playroom. I am so blessed to have such wonderful children who get along.

The sounds of trains clacking on the kitchen floor can be heard, and the tiny voices grow nearer. Sounds of bad guys shooting trains can be heard in the distance with little, "Booosshhhhss!"

This cup of piping hot java is delicious! And look at Matt Lauer! So svelte in his tight-fitting clothes. I am so enjoying this hard hitting interview with Sir Richard Branson. I feel as though I am going to take these calm, educating moments, and be a better, smarter woman throughout the day!

The boys are now in the same room as me. Sam is standing on the couch, train in hand, pushing his train up my arm. Abe is at my feet with Spiderman. Their dialogues are not in tiny voices anymore, they are deafening and I cannot hear Matt Laurer. A fight breaks out between them.

Really, Abe and Sam? REALLY!?
***

This happens all the time. We have 1,900 square feet of home for our children to play in, yet they prefer to be in the same, tiny five foot area that we are am in. We even have a special, designated room with TONS OF TOYS in it for them to play. But, no. They prefer to be on top of me, in my face, touching my hair, literally jumping into my lap.

Don't get me wrong, I am happy that my kids want to be near me. But, it always seems to happen when I really would like a few minutes alone. Or when Jake is trying to watch a Bears game. Or when I am cooking piping hot things on the stove. I guess I should just suck it up and enjoy it. I am sure in 10 years Jake and I will be the ones gravitating toward them and jumping into their laps, and touching their hair. Yes, I will make sure of it.

I am thankful for ... my family!

2011-11-23T09:31:00.000-05:00

At Abe's school this week, they were asked to draw a picture of what they were thankful for. Abe drew a picture of his family. Take a look:


Drlich Family Portrait (complete with Ozzie)

Just in case you haven't figured it out, I am the giant, monster-looking thing in the middle with crazy eyes and jagged teeth. Jake is on top of me, with a beard (of course). Sam is to the right, with a giant head and tiny body. Abe is in the bottom left corner dressed in a Batman costume. And Ozzie is in the bottom right. Looking very svelte. Jake and I are both wearing uniforms with badges, that say we are parents. I asked Abe why Daddy was on top of my head, and he said, "He's not on your head, Mama! He's walking up behind you." Of course he is. I should have known that my son was trying to portray depth-of-field.

I am, too, very thankful for my family. I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Five minus Two Teeth

2011-11-11T12:07:00.001-05:00

Dear Abe,

So, today in the car, we had this exchange:

{"Don't Stop Till You Get Enough" is playing on the radio}
ME: Oohhh! This is a Michael Jackson song!

ABE: He's dead.

Needless to say, your comment sort of stunned me. The fact that you knew who Michael Jackson was, and the fact that he was dead. It's not like we discussed his death with you in detail, or refer to him as "That Dead Guy" when his songs come up on the iPod. I am surely kidding myself to think that I can shield you from all of the horrible things in the world -- death, poverty, the Kardashians -- but it is inevitable. You are five now. And quite the worldly one.

The pace at which you are growing up freaks me out. I constantly am staring at your tall, long body and wonder what happened to my chubby, small baby. You not only get dressed all by yourself, but you pick out what you will wear. You have opinions on your clothes, your new winter coat, and the way I wear my hair (you prefer it down, for the record.)


Only minus one tooth at this time.

Your memory and attention to detail astounds me. You recall the t-shirts that Uncle Griff wore on vacation. His T-SHIRTS. You remember faces and names, and exactly what each person got you for every holiday. You remember details of Batman's costume (60s Batman) from seeing the show once, to draw a picture of him at school.

Your teeth are falling out like crazy. Well, I guess only two are gone, but that is CRAZY to me. I remember very clearly when those two teeth poked through your little gums and now they are gone. You pulled both of them out yourself, only when they were ready, because you do not do anything unless you are ready.


The smile on your face is priceless.

You are growing up into a real boy, but you aren't all grown up yet. When we walk in the parking lot at stores, you still let me hold your hand. When it's time for you to go to bed, you still want me to lay with you and rub your back.

We were at Monkey Joe's last weekend for one of your friend's birthday party. (Don't even get me started about Monkey Joe's. That place is an insane, crazy place, where parent's go to have panic attacks. I can only handle millions of children running around, screaming, and bouncing for so long.) You were so excited to see your friends from school. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to drop you off or stay and sit to the side. (When I saw what that place was like, I decided I was DEFINITELY not leaving you). But, you didn't want me to go too far. You would run off with your friends, and every so often stop what you were doing and search for me. Yelling in there is no use, so as I was would walk toward you, I would see your eyes frantically searching for me, until you found me. Your body would relax, you would smile, and then you would continue on your way.

It reminded me that even though you are five and have friends of your own, and have opinions about my hair in a ponytail (is it really that bad?!), you still need me. At least for now. And, just so you know, I will eat up every last moment.

Maybe we will use this photo for your senior pictures.

Love,
Mama

Photo Explosion

2011-11-07T09:02:00.000-05:00

I am just too lazy to write.

What's going on inside this crazy head of mine

2011-11-04T13:49:00.002-05:00

My brain has been going BO-nanas in the last week, so I thought in an effort to relieve some of these thoughts, I would also share some with you, my loyal readers. It will serve as a purging of sorts for me, and also show you how crazy I am. I am okay with you thinking this. So, let's get started shall we? The below list is in absolutely no order.

Why can't all business presentations be like Tom Haverford's (see video below)? Seriously. The business place would be a better place.

Why didn't Cameron Crowe include anything about Alice in Chains in his Pearl Jam documentary? I have to admit, this question was originally Jake's, but I have spent an odd amount of time thinking about this.

Being on Facebook makes people I haven't talked to or interacted with in years have starring roles in my dreams. This is super weird.

I am really ready for Christmas. I am so excited about it. I can't remember the last time I was this excited. I am blaming my children.

I heard my wedding song on the radio today. That might not seem like a big deal, but it actually is sort of cool. I mean, it was released 13 years ago, so it's not a new song. It's also pretty obscure. I mean, it's not "Unchained Melody" or something. And, I hear it pretty often. So, whenever WTTS plays it, it makes me super happy. It's the little things people.

I just realized that Abe is closer in age to me as a teenager than I am right now. MIND. BLOWN. I think this is so crazy because when I was a teenager I felt like I was pretty smart -- I mean, I guess I felt like my brain is closer to what my brain is now, and not to a five year old (aka, I know that peeing on the seat is gross and disgusting, and I realize that the Scooby Doo movie franchise is not at all scary, at least in the normal sense of the word "scary." Matthew Lillard is indeed scary.) The amount of knowledge that your brain acquires from five until 15 is mind boggling. I feel like I have more to say about that, but I really don't feel like thinking about that much anymore.

The Hunger Games trilogy is awesome. I was a dork for it, and read the third book in less than two days. The book upset me, made me sad, and I think about it a lot. Either it is a thought-provoking series or I have some serious mental issues.

And that, my friends, is all of my brain happenings for this week.

RIP For Sale Sign

2011-10-28T15:25:00.001-05:00

That is, of course, unless the venture comes back from the dead. It is Halloween weekend after all, and that Universe really likes to mess with the Drlich fam. Let me explain ...

About three months into our house being on the market, we were realizing that this may not happen. Or, it may not happen in the way we envision (i.e. we will have to slash the price to our home to a number that we are not comfortable with). But, we had a contract with our realtor for six months, so there was nothing we really could do but wait it out. And let me tell you, when you don't really want to sell your house, getting your house ready for a showing with two little kids and a big dog is no fun. It is also no fun to hear people's feedback about your home. As constructive as it may be, you don't want to hear about your small master bathroom, when you can in fact do absolutely nothing about it.

But, I digress. I could have a whole other blog post about how not to sell your house. The top two things would be to have kids living at your house, as well as a dog. Apparently buyers don't want you to have kids or dogs. Or, any belongings for that matter. Also, try not to wear or own clothing. Too much clothing is too cluttery.

But, I digress yet again. After I finally told our realtor we were donezo with this endeavor (okay, I told her about three times) she finally understood. We figured we would just ride it out until October 30th when it would be all done.

Wouldn't you know it, we get a showing request for tomorrow. Because Jake and I are sort of freaky with the way we think, we were both on the same page and thought it would be a good idea to go through with it. Just in case. Just to throw it out to fate to see if it was really meant to be. So, we will see.

It is sort of exciting actually. I am happy to have this all be over either way. If things will go as normal, they will say that our house is nice, but the bedrooms are too small. Or, that they hate the kitchen counters. And, we will go on with our life as planned, and make plans for the boys to share a room, and get Abe enrolled in the school we found.

Just maybe though, our life could be all wiggity whacked out, and we will be buying a house who knows where. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

Anniversary Times

2011-10-21T10:42:00.000-05:00

Two posts in one day! I am on FIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRE.

It's Anniversary Times up in the Drlich house. Normally that really doesn't mean anything. As you all know, Jake and I aren't big on the celebrations or fussiness of holidays/special dates/whatever. (See the following posts for reference):

3rd Anniversary
4th Anniversary
5th Anniversary
8th Anniversary

But, somehow the Universe aligned and we are able to have a little getaway for a night in Dizzy Tizzy of Indianapolis. (Dizzy Tizzy is what I decided to call Downtown. Because I just like the way it sounds.) As many of you with multiple children five and under can probably imagine, Jake and I are so excited that we can barely even contain ourselves. What will we do? Where will eat? What time can we start drinking? (I kid. I kid. Sort of.)

So, there will be no cards, no flowers, no jewels, no pottery and willow (the traditional gifts for the ninth anniversary). There will just be us and time. And the whole Dizzy Tizzy at our disposal. Word.

Month Thirty (Two and a Half!)

2011-10-21T10:27:00.001-05:00

Dear Sam,
Yes, this is your mother writing. I know, you probably can't believe that I am actually doing this BEFORE your official two and half birthday. Don't fear, I will compensate by writing a less than stellar report of your life thus far. To be quite honest, you have been tiring me out lately. Because this week our house had a special visitor that we have not seen for about three years. This week was the (cue spooky music) RETURN OF TERRIBLE TWOS!

Ahh, has it been that long since Abe frightened us with his hysterical screaming and body flinging and nonsensical ways? I suppose it has. Because when you performed the Mother of all Tantrums on Monday, it had your father and I questioning your emotional well-being and brain capacity. But, then I remembered we did the SAME thing with Abe! And, he turned out all right.

I have to say that you are a little different than Abe because you have a way worse temper and are way more stubborn. We are going to have lots of battles of wits. And it is no surprise, while we were trying the "cry it out" method on you when you were a baby, you were the same way. Stubborn.

But, of course, you are not all terrible and tantrums. You are sweet too. You give the best hugs ever, and a lot of times for no reason at all. You have become obsessed with books, and drag them around the house with you, flipping pages and talking to your self.

And now, it is time for the photo portion of this program.

Doing what you do best. Move. A lot.

Playing with your guys.

You are sweet and precious in your holiday-themed pjs. Please let me put those on you when you are twelve.

I hope you know that no matter how many tantrums you have, or toys that you throw at me, I will love you no matter what.

Love,
Mummy

"The coolest losers we know-ooooo!"

2011-10-06T15:04:00.001-05:00

I have been trying to explain to people what it is that Sam does when he screams, "Ohhhhhhhhh!" and waves his arm around. (See photo below).


He looks like he is enjoying himself. Photo courtesy of Ryan Smith.

Well, he is not entirely crazy. He is imitating what the characters do on "The Regular Show," a cartoon on Cartoon Network that I can't even begin to explain. It is very weird. Although, very funny. It is a random funny. Anyway, my kids like it. Check out the "Ohhhhhhhhhhhs" below.

Month Twenty-Nine-ish

2011-10-05T08:57:00.000-05:00

Dear Sam,
Hi, how are you? Oh, me? Well, I am freaking EXHAUSTED from chasing you all over a swimming pool and surrounding areas for three hours. That was on Saturday. It is now Tuesday and I am still tired. I should have known better that, knowing that you like to move and shake, but for some reason Saturday put me over the edge.


You are a wild man.

We were at the U of I Alumni Swim Meet, and since I didn't swim I thought I could watch you and your brother. Well, I am an idiot. You went up the stairs, down the stairs, up the bleachers, down the bleachers. You wanted to touch the water, touch the diving board, touch the wall, touch the dog on the wall, have a drink from the drinking fountain. Then you wanted to take your shirt off and your pants off and get in the water with the other swimmers. When I did not let you do this, you proceeded to lay down on the wet pool deck and scream. I did not care. At this point, I was sweating. (Meanwhile, your brother is up in the stand coloring pictures with his girlfriend Rian. Being such the good little gentleman. But, he is five. I know.)

But, the good news is that I think you will love swimming one day.

Your love of singing continues, and now that Karli has introduced you to "Mary Poppins" you request to watch it all the time. You ask me to fast forward the "scary" parts which are either when they show gloomy London, or the "mean guy" who is the children's father. You have perfected your ~~stripper~~ dance routine to "Working for the Weekend" (Chris Farley/Patrick Swayze version). I have video taped you doing this, but I am still a bit hesitant to post it. I mean, you are only two and dancing like a Chippendale. Funny or creepy? I say funny, but I am not sure what my growing audience of 25 people may think.


You as a stone cold Captain America (Baca Baca).

Your potty training ventures are progressing, even though it is every so slowly. I have no authority to talk about them, because I have absolutely no idea what I am doing, and I am obviously not very good at this training thing. However, I can't say you are a star pupil. You have no interest of doing anything unless you WANT to. But, someone must have told you that your pee goes in the "tunnel" and now you want to make your pee go down the tunnel. And, today you wore your Yo Gabba Gabba undies over your diaper because you wanted to. I will take this as progress and keep encouraging you. Let's hope that you are trained by the time you are 12.

I pulled out all of the Halloween decorations last night and you got so excited. This is when I noticed how you pronounce, "witch."

"Mama, wook at that bitch!"

One of your teachers told us that you have a girlfriend in your class that you hold hands with and call a princess. I guess yesterday she was getting mad and saying that she was not a princess, because she was dressed up like a witch. So, maybe you really do know what the word means.


So proud to be on the horse by yourself.

Your energy level continues to amaze me (and the general public), but you have started to slow down and focus on quiet things like books, coloring, and musicals. You still try to play with your brother, and most of the time he lets you. You have such a charm about you, and I have to admit I am smitten My life just wouldn't be as fun without you.

Love,
Mama

I'm tired, you guys

2011-09-28T15:56:00.000-05:00

I felt the need to write something, especially because I have a slew (four) of new commenting visitors. This surprises me so much that I texted my friends and family and accused them of making up fake names and commenting.

Anyway, I am doing much better as far as my health goes, but I am still working out some kinks. Such as the constant heart palpitations and muscle twitching. I am not going to lie the heart palpitations are really starting to bother me, but I only start freaking out about them as I am starting to fall asleep. I guess when all other stimuli is taken away and it's just you and your racing heart, you do start to fear that you will die. Specifically, have a heart attack and die. So, every night I pray that I make it. So far, I have.

Don't worry (Grandma, Mom, Dad, Random Person), I am going to the doctor to figure this all out.

Other than that, I am really, really tired. I am hoping that this is something that will eventually get better, because I hate being tired, yo. My daily sleep requirement has been upped to 10 hours a night, which is sort of ridiculous. I am also finding that my witty writing ability has taken a steep dive (proof is this lame blog post).

Sorry guys. I hope to return with stories of my children, I feel like there is a lot to write about Sam, or Singin' Sam I should say. He sings CONSTANTLY. I need to get a video of him.

P.S. Happy 7th Birthday Ava!
P.P.S. Only three more days until the Alumni Swim Meet.

Part Four: No one wants you anymore, Thy-ROIIIIDDDD

2011-09-15T09:57:00.002-05:00

For all of the other parts of this lovely medical drama, please click on the links below. Seriously, minutes and minutes of reading pleasure.

Part One
Part Two
Part Three

Guess what everyone, I am alive! Isn't that fabulous? In fact, I am sitting at home watching Kathie Lee and Hoda. (Sidenote: OMG, how awful is Kathie Lee? How does Hoda even stand her? My eyes would be permanently stuck at the top of my head from rolling them so much. She is out of control. Also, it is amazing to me that NBC and Today allow this programming to go on the airwaves. It is totally ridick. But, then again, most daytime TV is totally ridick. TV Executives must think that if you stay at home during the day you are a batshit idiot. Okay, that is enough.)

So, it has been exactly one week since my surgery and I am feeling much better. I drove to a doctor's appointment today, and I am drinking coffee and eating normal foods and everything. I am on the road to recovery. I wouldn't say I am completely normal (which I will get to later), but doing all right.

The surgery went fine (as far as I can tell). And, right at the moment I thought I was going to have a panic attack, the 15-year-old anesthesiologist injected me with the drugs that knock you out. I guess I am now at the age, where any doctor that looks like they are in their 20s looks like a child. But, I think that it was also the vibe that this doctor was putting out. You know, he seemed like he liked to party and also liked to make up abbreviations and slang for words and use them in the OR. "I'm bouts to shoot this chick up with some tasty steesia," or something like that.

The moment I almost lost my shit was as I was walking into the OR. Just seeing all of the machinery and the lights and the people with masks, and McSteesia there freaked me out. Also, it didn't help that Alanis Morisette is playing on the radio. But as soon as McSteesia gave me the drugs I was out in two seconds flat. I woke up in some other room, and all I remember is hearing the nurse discussing Bachelor Pad and Vienna, so of course I felt the need to chime in. Keep in mind that I cannot even open my eyes and see straight, AND don't even watch Bachelor Pad, but I needed to comment on Vienna's "bad f-ing hair." Oh sweet Lord.

Apparently when I got to my recovery room, I told Jake this story multiple times. I am sure he was very amused by it.

The rest of my time in the surgery center went well, and I was the overacheiver of all recovering patients. All my vitals were great, I was up and moving, I ate oatmeal and pudding, etc. etc. I thought I had kicked this surgery's ass. I decided my thyroid's name was Aman-DUHHH. Because I hate it, just like Mike Dexter hates Aman-DUHHH. (see video below).

But, Aman-DUHH had some other plans for my body (that BITCH!) After a couple days at home, I started to feel weird. My hands and feet were feeling tingly and I kept getting these weird muscle twitches all over my body. I thought maybe I had just slept wrong, but then I saw that it could be a sign of calcium deficiency.

(MEDICAL EXPLANATION ALERT: So, behind your actual thyroid, there are glands called the parathyroid glands. These glands regulate your body's calcium, so they are very important. These glands were to stay in my body, but because they are so close to the thyroid sometimes they get a little traumatized during the surgery and don't work as well. They tested my calcium levels before I left the surgery center, and my level was fine. However, it could have been low for me, even if it wasn't considered a "low" level.)

To make a long story short, my personal doctor Angela Bermes Franco (I suggest everyone become friends with a doctor and then make them your personal doctor) called some of her other doctor friends and thought it best I go to the ER to get some calcium. So, we go (during the Bears game, which I am sure was great for Jake. But, they did have a TV in the room), and I get some calcium and potassium infused into my body and we leave. Then I get all kinds of pills to take, one of which is the size of small cargo ship that I am required to swallow.

I am doing much better now. Aman-DUHH is really trying to make her absence known and is sort of wreaking havoc on my body, but I will try to fix that. I think it will be a while before I feel completely normal and I can workout and gallivant around like I used to, but I am just happy to be able to eat normally and sleep without a million pillow under my head.

I have been overwhelmed with all of the support and love that I got during my surgery (and even now) so thank you to everyone. I am a very blessed person to have a lot of people that care about my well being. And, if anyone ever has to go through this, please let me know and I will help you. My Aunt Joyce had this done and she was a very good person to talk to. (Thanks Aunt Joyce!!!!)

For now, this concludes the thyroid chronicles. However, that could change at any time.

Part Three: We've come to the end of the road

2011-09-02T16:13:00.000-05:00

To catch up on the saga that is equal parts medically articulate and deeply riveting, please check out the links below:
Part One
Part Two

Ah, yes, where were we? To be quite honest, I think I am going to speed through some of this because I fear it could be a tad boring, and I am feeling pretty lazy.

Here is my visual aid for this blog:

So, now I have an endocrinologist, which makes me feel very special. I have a special doctor for one of my glands. She is a fast-talkin' lady, that spurts big words out at me. I try my very best to keep up, because it seems as though she thinks I know what she is talking about. I like to think that she thinks I am very intelligent, so I go on with the charade.

However, since I have been with her, I have gotten my thyroid level under control, and that has made a HUGE difference in my life. When your thyroid is out of whack, it messes with a lot of things in your body. Below is a list:

weight
cholesterol levels
anxiety
body temperature
heart palpitations
hair growth (or rather, hair falling out)
energy level

There are others, but you get the gist. I just listed the ones that affected me. So, you can imagine that once I got my levels under control I was a much more pleasant person to be around. And, I was no longer a crazy, tired, balding lady.

However, I had been noticing that the nodule in my neck was becoming more noticeable. And by noticeable, I mean people thought I had an Adam's Apple. I tried to wait it out as long as could (despite my mother's incessant urging to get it checked out) but when I started to feel it when I would swallow, I thought it was time.

So, back to my bestie the endocronolgist, and my long lost friend the ultrasound machine. The results were that the nodule had in fact grown (despite trying to treat it with my medication). I am not quite sure of the exact size, but I think it is close to a golf ball. Also, on the other side, I have lots of little nodules. Basically, my thyroid is straight up broke, yo. Diseased all up in that shit. (I have no idea why I decided to get gangsta just then.)

My endocronologist in her true speed-talk fashion suggested that I get the entire thyroid out (we in the medical world call it a total thyroidectomy) and the next thing you know she is scheduling a consultation with a surgeon. It was all happening so fast, and the way she was explaining it was if we were going to schedule a facial. Like, no big deal, you know? No explanation of how long it takes to recover, what it exactly entails, what are the chances I will die? Because all of these thoughts were going through my head.

So I walked out of there thinking that this is not a big deal at all. The next day I should be back at work and showing off my svelte looking neck, then go for a 5 mile run.

Fast-forwarding some time, I finally get to meet with the surgeon, who by the way, is a plastic surgeon and an otolaryngology surgeon (BIG WORD ALERT). And, yes, I already asked if he could do a tummy tuck at the same time, but apparently he just does above the neck stuff. WHATevs.

Jillsy came with me to that meeting. It was sort of entertaining for a few reasons:

We were in a plastic surgeon's office, so every time someone walked in I was wondering what they were "in for." Nose job? Botox? Facelift?
For anyone that has never been around Jillsy, her cell phone usage is sort of similar to a 13-year-old girl. Scratch that, a 13-year-old girl who cannot hear. Think: Volume, Full Blast; Color, Hot Pink. She has assigned a ring tone to every single person in her address book, and also assigned different rings for their texts vs. calls. When I say "ring tone" we are talking full-blown five minute songs. And, OF COURSE she gets texted and called like 34 times an hour. So, here we are in the tiny little waiting room, and Jillsy's phone is blowing up to some samba-like didy on volume 30.
The surgeon is totally a creepy plastic faced man. He has definitely had some work done, and it is very creepy. Normally, this would be a deturrent for me. But, he has done a zillion thyroidectomy with a huge success rate, so I am down with him. I am trying to not let his creepy face bother me.
They gave me this illustrated booklet about the thyroid, which had to have been printed in the 70s. It was HILarious. My favorite parts are the comparison of the lady with hypo-thyroid and the one with hyper-thyroid. I think the only difference was her bulging eyes, and the other one was slightly overweight. If I can find that thing, I will scan some images in for you.

So, T-Time is less than a week. I am not going to lie I am nervous about it. My biggest fear is dying, which I know is crazy and I won't die, but I think I might die in just about every situation, so one in which I will be cut open and knocked out just seems to make sense.

In reality, I am sure it will be sort of like a drugged up vacation where I take pain pills and lay around for three days straight. I know for some people that sounds like heaven.

I will keep you all updated on the situation. I can't promise to have timely updates, but I will have a lot of time on my hands during recovery.

Five Years Old (Month Sixty)

2011-08-30T11:42:00.001-05:00

Dear Abe,

This morning you asked me if it was still your birthday, which thankfully, it is not. It feels as though we have been celebrating your birthday for months and months and months, and to be quite honest, it really is exhausting us all (even you). I think you felt a tad bit relieved that it wasn't your birthday today. I mean, I am sure you just can't take one more Spider-Man-related item, or piece of cake. ENOUGH.

Just a few of your Spider-Man items.

But, we made it to five! We are passed the whole, "keep your child alive" stage and now we are in the midst of actual parenting. YIKES. This stuff is hard. I might need to start rewatching the Cosby Show for some pointers.

Your short-lived obsessions have continued, and your current status is "Spider-Man all the time." You have three different costumes and you wear any combination of them every night. Somtimes just the gloves, sometimes just the mask, sometimes the whole thing. And, nothing is done without the most specific intentions. That is something about you -- you know exactly what you are doing, and why you are doing it (even though most people have no idea). I used to think your drawing spiders all over a paper was weird, until I realized that in "Spider-Man" (the first one, because as we all know it was just called "Spider-Man" and not "Spider-Man One." Don't even get me started on my vast knowledge of Spider-Man), Peter Parker does the same thing when he is sketching his costume. You watch the movies intensly, and mimic Spidey as you watch. You have every pose down, and even most of the lines. Although, I am not really happy when you tell us to, "Fix the damn door!"

This month we went to the State Fair, and while we certainly failed at the State Fair (it's a long story, but seriously, can we not go ANYWHERE without meltdowns?), you did succeed in riding the rides all by yourself. My gut reaction was to go with you up those tall tower of stairs on the big pink slide, but you assured me that you could do it all by yourself. And, you did. And, you loved every second of it.

Brave down the slide. Okay, I was brave.

You are at a new school, and the transition to the new class was great. You were not nervous about not knowing anyone, and you made new friends easily. Your teachers tell us you are an excellent listener. One day at dinner you told us that a little girl in your class said you were ugly. My first reaction was to say that this little girl is a straight up bitch. I mean, who would call my baby ugly?!?! But, you really didn't seem too concerned about it. In fact, I don't think you were upset at all. I mean, no one has ever called you ugly before. So, it can't be true, right? Right. I hope you carry that self-assuredness with you your entire life (and I will take care of the bitches.)

Last night, I came to lay with you before you fell asleep. You asked me to rub your back (like always), but then you turned around to chat with me. I told you that I was so proud of the boy you had become and that you were smart and kind, and if you can be those things, then that is enough. (Then you said, "I am cute too. God made me cute." I think your Grandma might have told you that. And, yes, you are cute, and that is nice too.) You had your blankey in your hands and I told you now that you are five, it's time to keep your blankey in bed from now on. This of course upset you. You said things like, "You mean, I can never have my blankey ever again?!" in a tone that suggested you just may shrivel up and die without the blankey. But, it is time. You are grown up now, and I even notice that your blankey is being forgotten about more often than not -- even during bedtime.

So, this morning as we were all waking up, you got out of bed and walked down to our bedroom, blanket in tow. Then, you looked at me, ran back into your room. You came back, empty handed, and looked up at me with a proud smile. I am sure my face was one of complete surprise (because even I forgot about our little deal). To me, this is the most grown up thing you have done in your short life. You did this all on your own, and I could see how proud you were.

My sweet boy.

And, Abe, I cannot tell you how truly proud I am of you. You are smart. You are kind. You are thoughtful. You have taught me so much in the last five years, and have made me a better person. I will love you forever and ever, and will always be your Mama, no matter what (a concern of yours.)

Love,
Mama

Pasta Fridays!

2011-08-26T13:35:00.001-05:00

Because Jake and I lead a very glamorous and exciting life, I thought I would let you in on a little ritual that has started since school has begun this year. (Okay, I guess this is only the third weekend, so "ritual" may be pushing it.) Jake decided that every Friday we will eat pasta for dinner. Exciting and glamorous, right?

But, for some reason, we have found ourselves looking forward to it. This is a meal that EVERYone in our family eats (even though Abe eats his pasta plain with butter) and everyone actually enjoys. It is a meal that goes great with wine! (Okay, maybe I am the only one excited about it).

Here is a snippet from an email conversation we had.

ME: I am excited for pasta Friday! I will bring the wine! Let's pretend we are Teresa and Joe from the Real Housewives of New Jersey. We will eat pasta and I will talk in a whiney voice and make my hairline go very low, and you can gain 45 pounds and walk around in your mesh shirts with no shirt on.

HIM: We will also speak to each other in a very loud voice, and show no consideration for anyone around us.

Teresa and Joe. Our Pasta Friday idols.

It is a sad, sad life that a lead. I know this.

Making New Friends

2011-08-25T08:09:00.001-05:00

Abe has recently started a new school, and every day we ask him if he has made new friends. At first he would say "yes" but then couldn't remember their names. Now, he talks about two boys -- Gavin and Tanner. It seems he talks an awful lot about how they play Spider-Man together, which made us wonder if he "lets" them play anything else. Abe can be sort of bossy, you know.

JAKE: Abe, you should ask your friends what they want to play. Maybe they don't want to play Spider-Man all the time.

ABE: *blank stare*

JAKE: Do you ask your friends what they want to play?

ABE: Yes. I ask Gavin if he wants to play Spider-Man, and he says, "yes." I asked Gavin if he likes Spider-Man and he says, "yes." I asked him what he wants to play and he says, "yes." He says "yes" to EVERYthing.

JAKE: Abe, does Gavin speak English?

ABE: I don't think so.

So, it turns out Abe has befriended Gavin, a little Chinese boy who apparently only knows how to say, "yes." Which, for Abe, works out perfectly.

You can say Abe is a lot of things, but stupid is certainly not one of them.

Month 28ish

2011-08-17T08:03:00.000-05:00

Dear Beans,

Yes, Beans is a name we call you. Not sure if that one will stick, but it sure is fun to say. Sammy Beans. Anyways, I have once again done a poor job chronicling the last few months. And a lot has happened. For starters, you have grown a foot over the summer. You are like a gargantuan child.

Lately you have been singing a lot, which is pretty much the cutest thing ever. You will just bust out some lyrics, with some hand gestures for good measure at random times. You also really like to sing in bed -- either after you fall asleep or in the morning right after you wake up. Tonight, I started to hear your favorite song. It goes something like this:

"Hello! Hello! Muh muh heeeeeeerrrrrrreeee!"

Of course everyone knows that it is the song from "Gnomeo and Juliet," your favorite movie (or as you like to call it "Angel.") Okay, maybe everyone doesn't know that song, but everyone that was on vacation with us does, because that movie was on repeat and every time anyone was sitting in the vicinity of the movie, that part was on. It is sung by Elton John and Lady Gaga. Here is a little snippet for your listening pleasure.

You had a great time on vacation, taking the beach and the ocean by storm the first day. You had not ounce of fear and charged the waves, making me crazy every time I was with you.

The ocean is your bizzo.

However, there were some days when you had just had enough and asked to "take a rest" at the house. Although we all know that you weren't going to rest. You just wanted to play in the foot wash or run up and down the stairs or play in the girls' "loft area." You pretty much never wore pants (but, isn't that what vacation is all about?) and loved having all of the people in the house. Our beach backyard was perfect for you to run and run and run and kick and kick and kick.

In perpetual motion.

This week was your first week back in school, and to make things interesting we took you to a new school. You never know what is going to happen with you, especially because you are not subtle about expressing your feelings. I dropped Abe off, and carried you over to your room. You looked at me like, "Don't you dare put me down you devil woman. I will f-ing cut you." But, I had to put you down. You screamed. Very loudly. Then a teacher came over and picked you up, and I leaned in to give you a hug. You wrapped your arms so tightly around my neck, screaming, "MAMAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" When I called to check in on you, they said that you were telling them "no" for everything. That sort of made me laugh. You were thinking, "I am here, but you can't make me do anything." You are pretty stubborn like that.

But, don't worry, the next day you walked right into that room without even a cry, and when your teacher asked if you wanted to play, you said, "Yes," like "Duh, why wouldn't I?" Needless to say, you are loving it now and playing nice with the children (fingers crossed the throwing of things doesn't happen for a while).

You talk and talk and talk, commentating everything that is going on. "That baby is eating a cracker!" I forgot the way 2 year olds feel the need to say everything they see. When we ask you a question, your most popular answer is "I don't know," but you say it like, "I donno," with a great shrug of the shoulders and tilt of your head. I love the way you say, "Where are you?" Or, "Come on Mama!" I want to record these phrases in my mind forever.

You and your brother are playing together more and more (and fighting more and more) but I know that it is normal. I look at you two now and imagine what you'll be like in high school -- giant, eating machines, that will most likely track dirt into the house.

The other day we were all sitting in the family room and you just climbed on top of Abe's back and he toppled over. You both continued to roll around on the ground, giggling. It was like watching little puppies wrestle. I, of course, HATE when you guys do this, but your Daddy assures me it is normal. You are really such a boy.

Abe and Sam personified.

You are such a joy and a light. And a boy. I love being your Mama. Please don't freak me out anymore.
Love,

Mama

Business as Usual

2011-08-11T21:15:00.000-05:00

Sam is wearing a Spider-Man tshirt about three sizes too small, shorts about two sizes too big. Abe is wearing an ensemble that alternates between his Spider-Man costume #1 (he has two, and he can tell you the exact differences between them) and his undies, baring a chest with a hand drawn spider with marker.

Every five seconds Abe says he is hungry, but cannot tell you exactly what he wants to eat, while I ask Sam if he is hungry and he says no, but yet cannot stop opening the fridge. And closing it. And opening it again. He then proceeds to eat an entire pint of blueberries, while Abe eats about half of a watermelon (after their dinner).

Abe wanders to the dining room table to draw ~~something~~ spiders and then slams down his pencil.

"UGH! I am DONE with this!" He exclaims, stomping his foot in his tiny underwear. "I QUIT at drawing!"

He then runs away, pulling his imaginary mask down, flinging webs from his wrists and joins Sam at the kitchen table who is snacking on some play-doh.

This is normal, right?

People are reading this?

2011-08-11T09:01:00.000-05:00

Yes, sorry, I have been MIA. I haven't felt the flow of writing juices as of late. I plan to resolve this ASAP with some blogs about the boys and also my awesome thyroid (which, by the way, will not be residing in my body in about a month. It will be living elsewhere. Where? I am not sure. Probably some lab. Maybe it will latch onto something like Venom from Spider-Man. I will discuss that with Abe because he knows all about symbiotes. For reals.)

I have to say, I don't really think that anyone reads this or cares (which is fine) but I got a comment from Gretchen, and I am not entirely sure who Gretchen is. I have only known two Gretchens in my life, and one is someone I went to elementary, middle, and high school with (Is it YOU?) If so, that is so exciting that she is reading my blog! If it is just a person named Gretchen I have never met, well, THAT is so exciting too! I guess the takeaway here, is that I am a fan of Gretchen.

I promise to write something soon. If not for my five loyal readers, than for myself.

It's about the green bean moments

2011-07-29T12:56:00.002-05:00

It's oftentimes when I feel the craziest in life that I become the most reflective and I start to see things clearly. I am not really sure what that means, but it's almost like when my plate gets too full, I drop it and go get another one that is empty. (How's that for an analogy!)

This week a flurry of events, some expected and some not, have sent my heart palpitations and nighttime mind racing into overdrive. I lay awake at night and think about all of the unknowns going on (changing daycares, changing homes, work, working out, impending surgeries) and know that this is so stupid for me and so not good for me. I know that my worrying about this stuff at night is not going to change the outcome. Yet, all of my thoughts continue and also weave into my subconscious resulting in me having dreams about me joyriding in a road-version of the Millennium Falcon, being chased by mobs of people, and ultimately stabbed with a needle of unknown contents, only to die and be revived with a shot of adrenaline to my heart. Yeah, that is the shit I dream about.

Needless to say, I have a lot on my mind. And usually when that happens it is hard for me to concentrate on anything of value. So my mind wanders. A lot. I usually end up reading. Blogs, articles, book excerpts. Anything to distract and maybe to somehow give me the "answer" I have been looking for. You know, the one thing that will make sense of everything and then I will figure out how to live my life stress-free, successful, and happily. Or, I guess, sometimes I just like to laugh.

Sometimes I start reading past years of my blog. Usually I like to read about Abe and Sam, but for some reason I was getting locked into the year 2005. My life was so different then, and I think my writing was too. More honest. Maybe more naive. Whatever. I got a kick out of it. It got me thinking about how I could write about the simplest things in life and how I paid attention to those things.

When I got home last night (all of this crazy stuff going on in my mind) I sat down to dinner with the boys. Dinner is always quite the adventure in our house and tonight we were having green beans (among other things). Abe always eats the green beans, but Sam? Not so much. Sometimes we try the tactic of talking the vegetables up, like saying that green beans are "Hulk toes" and asparagus is "Hulk fingers," and that eating them will make you big and strong, but Sam usually doesn't buy that.

However, tonight, he did. Abe starting eating the green beans and commenting on his arm muscles so Sam started following suit, and then "flexed" his muscles by straightening one arm and grunting. I cannot tell you why, but it brought me the greatest joy I have felt in days. Maybe months. Each time he ate a green bean, there came an arm-straightening-grant and I laughed and smiled and high-fived.

I remember thinking to myself in that moment that THIS, THIS is the stuff that matters. And how blessed am I that I am sitting down at dinner, eating with my family

And, then today, someone mentioned how they were reading this book, and the way the author wrote reminded them of me. I decided to check it out, and stumbled upon a chapter about waiting for the next big moment in your life. You know, like the moment when everything will change and everything will be better. I feel as though I wait for that moment a lot. But, then I found this passage:

"This is it. This is life in all its glory, swirling and unfolding around us, described as pedantic, pedestrian non-events. But pull of the mask and find your life waiting to be made, chosen, woven, crafted.

Your life right now, today, is exploding with power, and energy, and detail, and dimension, better than the best movie you have ever seen. You and your family and your house and your dinner table and your garage have all the makings of a life of epic proportions, a story of all ages. Because they are. Every life is."

(From the book, "Cold Tangerines" by Shauna Niequest)

That Universe is a sneaky bastard that gets me when I least expect it.

Also, sorry for a "Special Edition" of my blog. It should return to its regularly scheduled programming soon.

How did we become alive?

2011-07-27T10:59:00.000-05:00

Sorry I have been MIA on here. I have been too busy pondering questions like the one above from (who else?) Abe. His others include:

How do we get to God? (Followed up with, "But I am really going to miss our house when I go!")
What is DNA?

Needless to say, that kid is becoming way too smart for his own good, and also his parents.

I will have to sit down and write a synopsis of our vacation, and I am excited to share Part Three of the Thylight Saga with you. Especially because I have some really great illustrations to share. Until then, please enjoy some photos of our vacation.

Sam enjoyed the binoculars, albeit they had to be backwards.

We had to drag him out of the water every day.

First time with a beach backyard. It was used for rolling.

Lame Parks and Cool Art

2011-07-05T14:37:00.001-05:00

A couple weekends ago, upon waking and drinking a gallon of coffee, I looked out the window and thought, "WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY! WE NEED TO GO OUTSIDE AND DO SOMETHING FUN!" (And yes, my thoughts were in all-caps because I did drink a gallon of coffee.)

So, I got the kids dressed, threw on their shoes, packed up some bribery fruit snacks (never leave home without 'em) and off we went to the IMA 100 Acres. I talked it up big the whole drive there, and I think I had them both sufficiently excited. I kept telling them we were going on an adventure!

In my head, this was a great idea for the following reasons:

1. It was seriously the most perfectest weather ever. Sunny, and not too hot, not too cold. Not a cloud in the sky.

2. It is free to get in, so even if they were not having it, we could turn around and come home, no problemo.

3. There are 100 acres of land for them to run around.

4. There are cool, random pieces of art interspersed throughout.

Now, I am no dummy. I know the way of the world and my children better to expect that this jaunt would be as magical as a scene from the "Sound of Music." So, in addition to my wonderful imagination and scenes of singing children dancing in my head, this is what really happened.

1. Upon seeing the first trail, Sam takes off in his standard "light jog." Some people prefer walking to get from here to there, but Sam likes to take that up a notch and jog wherever he goes. For an instant, my mind jumps to two hours into the future when he starts wailing,"Mama hold you!!!!!!" Surely, that won't happen?

"Come on Sam! Let's try to get rid of her!"

2. Seeing the first colorful bridge was so EXCITING! A red bridge. Oooooooh! Seeing the second, lost a little luster. And then, it was just another freaking red bridge from which I had make sure Sam did not fling himself off of.

Red bridges are EXTRA fun.

3. My kids love to throw crap into bodies of water. Whether it be a ponds, pools, puddles, toilets. It's like some sort of reflex. I indulged them for a few tosses, but then when Sam was scavenging around for the biggest thing he could find and I started hearing louder ker-plunks. Peace out fountain, and sorry to the couple in the "splash zone."

4. In my head, we were going to walk around and see everything in its entirety, stopping for appropriate amounts of time at each attraction. However, I didn't take into account the yellow-sideways-bench-thingies that totally captivating my children. If I would have let them, they would still be playing on them today, weeks later. Jumping off, walking down, climbing up, repeat, repeat, fight, scream, jumping off, repeat. Boys.

The yellow-sideways-bench-thingies. Hours and hours of fun.

5. I remembered there was this really cool area with bright colors mimicking a basketball court, but had no idea where it was. On a last attempt after three meltdowns, I put them in a car and tried to find it. We did find it, however, I ended up getting lost coming out of there. Abe started freaking out because he knew we weren't going the right way. We made it home, though. My sense of direction isn't totally horrible. Just mostly.

Crazy basketball court.

As we were finally heading home (in the right direction), AC in full blast, the last of the bribery fruit snacks being doled out, and a tear stained Sam sitting comatose in his seat, I asked Abe if he thought we went to a cool place. He said, "That park was kinda lame."

Really!? Because, I don't really recall walking through the woods when I was a kid and stumbling upon art installations, or magically apearing whimsical basketball courts. I mean geez. Kids these days.

Month Twenty-Six

2011-06-23T08:31:00.000-05:00

Dear Sam,

You may be a wee bit too young to understand that we celebrated Father's Day last weekend. And yes, while everyone else was honoring their father's by blogging on the actual day, your Mama is a little bit late with this. But, like I always say, "Better late than never." (Okay, I don't really always say that. I probably always say, "SAM! STOP JUMPING ON THE COUCH!")

I want to let you know that you have a great father. You really do. And, he is a great father because he has a great father. I am a totally awesome mother because I have a great father too. (Don't you dare roll your eyes at that. I am TOTALLY AWESOME.) Both your Daddy and I grew up with good Daddy's -- they are smart, tall, mustachioed (at least at one time), funny, and hard working. You are lucky to have two grandpas that love you a lot. Nothing makes me happier than to see them laughing at you, and the pride in their eyes when they are around you (and of course your brother, too.)

Rob is letting you wear his glasses. Let's hope this does not effect your future vision.

This is you with your Grandpa and Daddy. Grandpa's "Corporate Culture" shirt cracks me up.

So, back to your Daddy. He is not like the other Daddy's. He spends a lot of time with you and your brother, especially during the summer. He makes you special peanut butter waffles. He draws characters on the driveway with sidewalk chalk on demand. He creates special contraptions to pull you down the slip-n-slide. He makes blanket forts for you. He hangs out with other Mommy's at your activities -- and can totally hold his own. He knows exactly how to rub your head to make you go to sleep.

He pushes strollers in a very manly way.

He laughs with you. He protects you. He teaches you. He loves you very, very much. I hope you realize how great he is.

Daddy and Baby Sam.

Love,
Mama

Part 2: "Inside the lump ... it was my twin."

2011-06-17T07:11:00.001-05:00

(If you would like to start this Thy-light Saga from the beginning, please see Part 1: Domo Arigato Hashimoto's)

We left off at the part where I was going to get a biopsy on my nodule. Now, like I said before, my body loves growing nodules so I had already had a biopsy before on a different part of my body, and it wasn't so bad. So, I was thinking, this will be fine, I can go in for the biopsy myself, put a band-aid on it, and go back to work. Wham Bam thank you ma'am. My mom didn't seem to think that my plan was very solid, and told me that she was going to come up and either go with me, or stay with the kids.

Fuuuuuuu-hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.I let her come. Jake very nicely took the day off to come with me. Whatevs. It would be fine.

So, we go to the hospital, and because it was in the height of all of that crazy flu, and we were at a women's hospital where babies are delivered every five seconds, they were super sensitive to any sort of sniffles and coughs. Upon check-in, we were ordered to wear masks at all times. Can I just tell you how weird that makes you feel? I swear that everyone thought we had some sort of crazy disease. It did not put me in the right mindset to get some needles up in my neck.

Anyway, we get to the special biopsy room (not sure what the correct name for that would be- Bermes?) and it is all dimly lit. The doctor's assistant greets me warmly, and grabs my hand, and talks to me in a voice that suggests that she is trying to be calming. This is the point where I wonder if I should be freaking out about this. It is just a needle in the lump, right?

Well, when the doctor comes in with a tray of needles that seem pretty thick, I realize that I may have thought wrong about this. They then explain to me that they will be putting the needle in, and then moving it around into different directions to gain tissue from all angles. Supercool.

Personally, the thing that made this whole thing that much worse, was the angle at which your head and neck have to be positioned so that you are in prime placement. It is not comfortable to lay this way in general, let alone have 20 needles being thrashed around your neck. You are basically putting a pillow under your neck and letting your head dangle backwards. AWKWARD!

Well, needless to say it was an uncomfortable experience. They ended up putting 20 needles in my neck, because they saw that I not only had a giant nodule on the left side of my thyroid, but the right side was full of nodules. Whenever a doctor makes a new development mid-procedure, it is never good for a patients imagination. Especially when your imagination is filled with images from googling on the internet.

Toward the end I was trying with all of my might to hold my shit together (which I did, BTW), but I have to give a shout-out to my masked Baby Daddy, he gave me intermittent leg taps when he could, and also the doctor's assistant whose weird voice tones and hand holding seemed to all make sense by the end.

And, of course, the biopsy results were negative for cancer, but they did confirm I had Hashimoto's. You would think that would be the end of the Thy-light Saga, but oh no, there is more. The way things are going nowadays, there may be around five parts. The next installment will include endocrinologists and heart palpitations. Riveting stuff.

Lil Drlich Kickers

2011-06-16T15:12:00.000-05:00

(Sidenote: The word "lil" while endearing to read, is entirely a different beast to say, not to mention, you feel sort of like an a-hole when you say it. So, feel free to say "little" when you are reading this blog aloud, as I am sure you do all of these posts. Probably after dinner. Like, as your family gathers 'round the hearth and sips hot cocoa ... that's when you read the blog aloud. So, say "Little Drlich Kickers" instead of "lil," just so you don't sound like an a-hole).

A couple months ago on a major planning frenzy, I signed up the boys for some Lil Kickers soccer action this summer. This basically means that the boys show up once a week to an indoor sports place and run around and play games, and also kick some balls. I know that Sam is young, but I thought it would be better for him to participate while Abe was doing it, rather than sitting on the sidelines with Jake. And, there was a class offered in his age group at the same time as Abe's class, although, the parent is to accompany them. Which, I thought, worked perfectly for EVERYONE. See, I am such a good planner. Me and the internet against the world.

So, today was their first class of Lil Kickers, and I did not know what to expect. I decided to meet the fam there to feel out the first day. I was actually a little concerned for Abe, because he was to "go it alone" and wanted to make sure he felt comfortable.

Well, when I saw the Rav 4 filled with my handsome boys and their smiling faces, I knew that it would be just fine. Abe was talking a mile a minute about getting ready to play soccer and wondering if everyone was going to like him. "Of course they would!" I said, as I knelt down and tied his ugly, brown replacement shoe strings on his Nikes (not if they see his shoestrings, I thought).

We skipped on into the giant complex, passing all of the children in day camps (nearly missing a melt down from Abe because he thought those were "his kids!!!!") and found the Lil Kickers area. The young girl who was their coach was very energetic and straight away handed them tshirts and water bottles. Which, was a good sign. Free stuff!! It became apparent that Abe's group and Sam's group where smack dab next to each other. But, I really didn't need to worry because Abe took off and started running around and kicking balls (I secretly think he was trying to impress everyone).

Sam, on the other hand, maintained a death grip on Jake's shirt and would NOT let Jake put him down. I have yet to figure out this side to Sam's personality. The side where he does not like people and kids and everything that he usually likes. I call this Bazarro Sam. Bazarro Sam continued to bury his head in Jake's head and refused to make eye contact with anyone. After about 10 minutes, he allowed Jake to put him down on the ground, and then he started kicking balls with freakish force. But, uh oh, they switched up the games and now it was time to run down the field. Nope. I don't think so. Meltdown #1.

Meanwhile, I am in the stands with some Carmel moms. Most of the time I was on butt-crack watch for Jake's sake, but I was also eavesdropping into conversations. One mom loved to narrate everything she was doing with her little girl, who definitely seemed to run her. This lady was very tiny. Like four feet tall. Her son was in Abe's class, and made Abe look like a giant. In fact, Abe was by far the tallest kid in the class. I am sure the Carmel Moms thought that he was like 15 or something.

I checked back into Sam and Jake. Jake is pouring sweat off his face, and Sam has snot pouring out of his nose. They are stacking orange cones now, which seems to make Sam happy. Sam's "coach" keeps repeating questions to him over and over, which I KNOW is driving Jake insane.

Three more meltdowns from Sam, and it was over. Abe LOVED it. He also told me that his coach was beautiful. (I also wonder if he told her he was "into Spider-Man now." He tells that to everyone. I am not kidding -- he told that to a lady in the luggage aisle at Target.) Everyone was really nice, and were very reassuring about Sam. There were only 2 other kids in his class, so hopefully next time he will be a little better.

I promise to bring my camera to one of these things. At least to get some good butt-crack shots of Jake.

The Drlich's Are Gettin' All Fancy-like

2011-06-13T12:31:00.000-05:00

Thank you so much to Joe Dudeck at http://www.joetography.us/ ... He did an amazing job with my crazy family.

The Cowbell Show

2011-06-10T09:16:00.001-05:00

I feel as though I have been neglecting writing about Abe on here, but rest assured, it is not intentional. He is not our neglected child that is forced to sit in the corner and watch Sam play in the Nemo pool. I am just a blogging slacker and haven't had a chance to document his funny stories, quirky habits, and crazy antics. Because, trust me, this kid is full of them.

A boy and his dog.

Sometimes I find myself staring at him as he talks, thinking to myself, "What the heck happened to my baby?!" Because, he is a kid. And, frankly, I am in amazement at the things that come out of his mouth and the corresponding facial expressions. This kid is not lacking in the facial expressions arena. I like to think it is a special gift from me, and I have yet to find what this will benefit, although it cannot hurt.

He also has the best memory of anyone I have ever known. Maybe it is because he has only lived for four years (and some change), but he will pull out memories from that random Tuesday morning I gave him a peanut butter waffle on the Thomas plate, and he wore the Mario shirt, and we lost his shoes, and wasn't that so funny? This kid forgets nothing. That is dangerous for everyone.

He is growing up in so many ways, "Mama, I really do not like that Oso bear. I mean, he doesn't know how to put on a band-aid. It is so easy!" Yet, he still has such an innonence, "Jaxon, do you want to be my best friend?"

Around Easter, we were at Danielle's house and watching TV with the kids when we saw that the "SNL: Best of Will Ferrell" was on. The skit with Blue Oyster Cult and "more cowbell" was on. Jake and I figured this would be a kid-friendly one for them to watch, and they would probably think it was funny. Oh yes. They loved it. They made us watch the video multiple times.

Yesterday, Abe was talking to me about what he was going to bring to Grandma's house for his visit this weekend.

"Mama, we have to get the Cowbell Show. It is the funniest show I have ever seen. I want to show it to Ava and Lia."

I don't know what to be prouder of -- the fact that he thinks Will Ferrell is funny or that he knows what a cowbell is. He will either be the coolest kid in the class or the weirdest one. Either way, I don't think he will care.

The Making of Bermes Franco

2011-06-08T07:46:00.000-05:00

Braving the rapids at Machu Picchu, aka rehearsal dinner (photo courtesy of Ryan Smith)

So, Bermes is now Bermes Franco. Well, actually Angie Franco, but I prefer to call her Bermes forever and ever. She was a stunning bride with the most beautifulest of bridesmaids. Laurin and I were getting phone numbers all night. Okay, maybe just Laurin was.

There were little kerflaffels along the way (is that a word?), but everything worked out in the end. And let's be honest, if everything worked out perfectly I would have totally thought I was in the Twilight Zone or something, because this is Bermes we are talking about. One of my favorite moments is when she is sitting in the chair at the salon, getting her hair done, and she mentions to me that she thinks we have a limo coming, but isn't sure. Because, she reserved the limo, wrote his name down in a notebook, then left that said notebook in Fort Wayne. She called multiple limo services in Indianapolis, but alas could not find him. So, fingers crossed that he comes! And, guess what?! He did! He called her right before she walked down the aisle and then she told him she loved him.

The speech went well, although I was very nervous, and Jake criticized me on the delivery of the "Lord of the Rings" joke, but WHATEVER. People said they cried, gosh darnit. And that is all that matters.

I can't wait to see all of the beautiful photos of the day, especially because we traipsed through the Indianapolis Musuem of Art grounds for what seemed like hours as my feet were bleeding, and Jake was half undressed in his ill-fitting tuxedo. (that was a burn Bermes).

But, in all seriousness, it was a beautiful day, filled with lots of love and I was so happy to be a part of it.

I will leave you with Ryan braving the rapids. It looks as though he did not fair as well.

Impending doom or dance move?

Month 25ish

2011-06-07T11:36:00.001-05:00

Dear Sam,

These "monthly" letters are certainly not on a schedule. But, I think you are cool with it. You are now, at least. We will see when you get older and you bring this up as one of the reasons you didn't get into Harvard.

Summer Haircut

Anyways, it is summertime now. That means you and Abe are home with Daddy and Ozzie and you get to play all day. This week is the first full week of that, and already you guys have drank milkshakes, gone swimming about four times, and worn nothing but mesh shorts. That is pretty cool. Your Daddy also gave you and your brother haircuts. You were so good for him. You didn't make a peep and sat patiently on the stool, even though hair was going everywhere. Your brother is not so good at this. But, that story is for another day.

You are very chatty, and love to talk all the time. You especially love repeating everything we say, and testing out new words. Your favorite phrase right now is, "Wook at me, Mama!" And, usually when I do, you are hanging off of something that is not meant for someone to hang off of.

Whenever you drop a toy (or anything really) you say, "Droppin' da toy! Droppin' da toy!" This reminds your father and I of a part of a movie called, "I Love You, Man" (aka, the movie that inspired me to buy your Daddy a Rush T-shirt for Christmas because I thought it would be hilarious. Verdict: Not so much.) Anyway, check out the video below to illustrate what we mean:

So, now, every time you say, "Droppin da toy!" Everyone in the family (even Abe) suddenly develops a Jamaican accent and repeats it continously, and then start into the "Slappin da bass!" You see, we are a HILARIOUS family in case you didn't know. (Reason #23 you didn't get into Harvard).

All you need is love. (and a fluffy dog)

You love being outside. I think you would stay out there all day if we let you. You have even just started opening up the back door and letting yourself out. In pajamas and no shoes or socks. Just venturing out the back like a senile old man. Maybe you think that because Ozzie can go out there unattended you can, too. When we play in the front, every single ball is emptied from its bin, every single ridable vehicle is ridden, and at least two jogs around the block have been made. You really enjoy taking off into a run, and the sound of my flip flops hitting the sidewalk after you cracks you up. I am still faster than you now, but I am sure it won't be for long.

Bathtime, just seconds after a meltdown.

You are certainly your own person, and while I think you look up to Abe you are not exactly like him. You like to party, and be around the action. You say, "Tanx!" in the cutest way possible, and every time you are supposed to. You like to be snuggled, but in the morning, you need your space. You may like to smash things, but you love to "Watchy Tango" ("Tangled") and giggle like a mad man when you see the horsey. You aren't as sensitive as Abe, but man do you have a temper. You can be screaming one second about something, but then all will be forgotten the next minute.

You are pretty adorable, Sammy Beans. Tanx for being a superb addition to our family. One day we will all slap da bass together.

Love,
Mama

Somebody's Getting Married!

2011-05-27T08:50:00.002-05:00

She's getting married!

Okay, I just rewatched the video above and find it to be so hilarious. I really hope that tomorrow no one is yelling, "Somebody get some flowers! Somebody get a ring!" Because unlike the Muppets, I do not like to roll like that. Also, I would like to add that Laurin is the blonde muppet, Janice, I think her name is, and I am the rat or the rooster. I like the rat's dress better, so I choose her. I can fight that one out with Bermes's sisters.

I am so excited for one of my best friends to get married tomorrow. Jake and I are both in the wedding (I know. It will be funny to be walking down an aisle with him again). Laurin and her husband are in the wedding, too. I am making a speech at the reception (OH. MAH. GAHD.) Every night this week I have been mentally rehearsing it, heart pounding, envisioning that people will look at me with weird faces. I will let you know how it all goes.

And, because I am sure Bermes will be pissed about the photo above, I will end with one of my faves of the three of us. I was pregnant with Abe at the time and it was Bermes's 26th birthday I think. God we are old.
Congrats to Berm and Lester!

Domo Arigato Hashimoto's

2011-05-19T10:00:00.001-05:00

I started this post in February, but never got back around to finishing it. I think it is partially because in my mind the continuing saga of my thyroid could not be summed up in one post -- I would need to have a multi-part series on it. I also wanted to do a really good job, and be informative because when I google the internet for information, I can't really find anything. So, why not turn Mental Notes into your Thyroid Knowledge Center.

So, let me back up. For those of you who don't know, I was diagnosed with Hashimoto's Thyroiditis in October of 2009, about six months after Sam was born. Who knows how long I have had it, but I like to think that I caught it pretty early, because I don't want to go down the danger path of "what ifs."

Anyway, the first symptoms I noticed was that I was having heart palpitations for no reason. Like, sitting in the car, driving along, and then BAM, heart palpitations. This was a tad bit concerning. I started noticing these things at the end of my maternity leave, so I just thought that maybe I was feeling anxious about going back to work. And, let's keep in mind that right after you have a baby your hormones are wacky and your body is a foreign being to you. Nothing is really the same as it used to be. If I starting growing a flower out of my elbow, I am sure I wouldn't think much of it.

I also had the normal post-baby symptoms: extreme tiredness (DUH), and my hair was falling out. This happened with Abe, and they say it is common for your hair to fall out after you stop breastfeeding. Although, I am not sure they meant that you could weave a rug from the amount of hair that would fall out of your head. My hair was coming out at an alarming rate, and I even had bald spots around my temples (for reals).

So, into the doctor I went. I feel like I had gone to the doctor before with the same symptoms, but this time she felt my thyroid and noticed that it seemed enlarged. She then ordered an ultrasound. While I was getting my ultrasound I just knew that something wasn't right. And those ultrasound technicians are like some giant secret-keepers -- they wield around that magic wand, click away at their computer, make some noises, some faces, yet they cannot tell you a thing. However, because I am super in-tuned with all medical professionals, I knew something was up. That lady wasn't fooling me.

My hunch was right, and they found a nodule on my thyroid. Awesome. I love growing nodules. My body is super good at it. If you could get paid for growing nodules, I would be like in Oprah-status of nodule growers. I would have my own talk show and would give away hospital gowns and ultrasound machines.

Anyway, the next step to all of this was to get the nodule biopsied, or bee-bop-seed, as I like to say.

And that story, my friends, will be continued in Part Two of this story. It is like the New Moon of the Twilight Saga.

(Oh, and by the way, the title is TOTALLY being sarcastic. Aren't I a multilingual whiz!?)

Sammy Beans at TWO

2011-04-28T20:47:00.000-05:00

Okay, so this stupid video camera situation is really annoying. Long story short, we are taking it back. But, I have uploaded these videos because Sam deserves it gosh darnit.

This is Sam's idea of eating cake.

This is Sam's knock knock joke. The punchline is the best.

I apologize for my horrible video voice and laugh.

Experiencing Technical Difficulties

2011-04-27T10:31:00.000-05:00

I know I am very overdue for Sam's two year birthday post. I have some great videos to post of him, with my new Flip camera, but I am having some issues with the Flip camera and our computer. And, lately, my life hasn't provided enough time to deal with the technical difficulties, but I will get there.

I also have noticed that I haven't been taken as many pictures as before.I will try to work on that as well.

But, Sam is now two. He tells knock-knock jokes, throws epic tantrums, and loves to go on runs around the neighborhood. His hair looks just like Richard Blais (of Top Chef fame) every single morning. He is full of life in every way. At times that can be very exhausting. I sometimes get jealous of the mother's that have the calm, serene children and don't have to deal with a child that never stops moving or expressing his opinions at every juncture. But then, I realize that would be no fun at all, and I wouldn't be able to laugh as much every day (or get as much exercise).

Things seem to be settling down around the Drlich house. My marathon work weeks are also coming to a close, and I head to California on Sunday until Thursday for my company's client conference. It will be a lot of work, but I will be so relieved to have it be over. We are headed to 90 degree temps in the desert, which will be quite the change from the torrential downpours we have been having. I am going to welcome the sun and heat.

A few days after I get home from California, I am running the Mini Marathon. Bermes, Laurin and I are doing it together and I am so happy to have some good running buddies. They will make it go by so much faster, and hopefully not literally, because Laurin is freaking fast.

So basically, I will be able to breathe again on May 8th, which consequently is Mother's Day. I suppose that is my Mother's Day wish (do they have those). Relaxation and peace.

Pretty bird, pretty bird ...

2011-04-18T20:54:00.001-05:00

So, staying with my "Dumb and Dumber" theme (and I realize that has more than one meaning), I would like to bring you back to my comment about my "pets heads falling off." While Ozzie's head does remain tightly fastened to his head, there is a bird somewhere on U.S. 31 in Carmel that is most likely not fairing as well. Because, a bird flew in front of my car while going 45 mph today and I heard a loud thud. We can all think positively and imagine that this bird deftly maneuvered its way through and under the Rav 4, but let's not kid ourselves. That bird is dead. I killed a cardinal today. Universe 123. Bri 0.

However, I want to update you on the whole MRSA scare. It turns out that Sam and Abe not only didn't have MRSA, they didn't have impetigo either. Sam's culture came back positive for strep. While this is not a good thing, I am just happy that I can stop worrying that I too have contracted MRSA and that it resides in every crevice of my house. The house that is now officially for sale. So, don't worry potential buyers, our house is MRSA free! Universe 123. Bri 1.

This whole house thing should be an interesting ride. Jake already hates everything about it, and tells me at least once a day that we should just stay and not move. Today he was in the front yard checking on the woodpecker hole that he had to patch this weekend (yes, we were visited by an ambitious woodpecker) and three of our neighbors yelled at him when they saw the for sale sign. One of our neighbors was on her nightly walk and pretty much assaulted him in the form of good neighbor cheer. "Do you want the tip of the day!?" she shouted. "Don't move to Carmel. It's horrible there! There's bullying and internet scandal abound!" Some neighbors tried to guilt him. "This will be our first full summer together," new neighbor James said. "I can't believe you would do that to us." And then, there is our good friends Brandon and Jenny. Brandon can't even walk over in the presence of the sale sign.

I'll admit, it is tough. But, I can't let myself think about all of the what ifs, when we don't even know what will happen tomorrow. I mean, with our track record, there could be some crazy stuff happening.

So, here is our house. Let me know if you want to buy it. We have some very loving neighbors.

Raccoon Battleground

(P.S. Bonus points for spotting Ditka, Alias, and Elmo chair)

Still riding the giant wave of shit ...

2011-04-13T11:16:00.002-05:00

Hello! Thought I would give everyone a sunny update from your favorite Negative Nancy. I am embracing this negativity and owning it, as Oprah would say. I have been watching a lot of Oprah lately. She is teaching me oh so much. Although, sometimes I feel like watching Oprah is akin to googling weird symptoms of illnesses because she is introducing me to things I never even thought of ... like the lady that developed OCD after she had kids because she was afraid of germs.

Which brings me to the latest Drlich development ... IMPETIGO (with a possible chance of M.R.S.A.). Can I get a what, what!? I swear we are not dirty people, you guys. Abe and Sam are bathed regularly, their fingernails manicured often, their hands washed all the time. I cannot control them all the time -- for instance, when Sam is playing in the yard and eating mulch or I see Abe sticking his tongue on the side of the house. I don't know why they do these things, and I can tell you that the words IMPETIGO and M.R.S.A. are not going through their heads. (On a sidenote, do not google either of those unless you want to be grossed out and become OCD like I am now.) But, I guess this is what happens when you have kids. FYI- no one warned me about the obscure diseases that they will pick up randomly. I mean, as a child I had the run of the mill illnesses, but nothing that significantly stood out in my mind as horrifying.

So, I have taken them to the doctor and they are getting all antibioticked up, and I will find out about the M.R.S.A. on Friday, on which case our doctor says we will "take another course of action." Oh goody. Hopefully that doesn't involve blowing up our house and burning all of our possessions, while putting Sam in a bubble contraption. Because that is what I was thinking.

This is happening all on the heels of the Purse Theft and Abe's puke-a-thon 2011, in the midst of the house being put up for sale, and smack dab in the middle of the busiest time I have ever had at work. (Yes, this blog post is a rant, but I am feeling the slightest bit of relief for doing it). I am having a hard time seeing the sliver lining in this and the littlest things, like my headphones not working, are pushing me off the deep end. Next thing you know our pets heads will be falling off (that's from "Dumb and Dumber" -- Ozzie's head seems to be fully intact.)

Oprah says to surrender to the things that are out of our control. I mentioned this to Jake, and he doesn't seem to think that Oprah knows what she is talking about considering she has Stedman and all those millions of dollars, not to mention that I don't think she has had to deal with impetigo.

So, I guess what I am asking my blog readers is to just send some positive thoughts and prayers our way, because the Drlich family really needs it. We need all of the positive karma we can get. Hopefully soon I can resume my usual cheery and sappy filled blog posts abot how Sam says, "WHAT!?" like Lil Jon when you say his name and how Abe said he loved me more than Thomas the train. We are at our max capacity now. That is all.

Surfing through the shit

2011-03-30T22:03:00.002-05:00

First, I would like to apologize to my grandma and my parents for saying the s-word in my blog.

Moving along ... I would like to commentate a little about my life currently.

I was thinking earlier in the week about writing a post about how our house is in shambles due to getting it ready for the move -- closets emptied, attic emptied, all in multiple piles to sort through for getting rid of or, "sell day" as Abe calls it (aka the garage sale this week). On Sunday Jake, and a few of his nice friends, ripped out our carpet in preparation for our new carpet to be installed. That in itself turned our family's little routined life upside down. I never realized how much our family thrived on routine until suddenly we had no carpet downstairs, and piles of our belongings in our kitchen.

But, we made it through the carpet installation, and we have started the process of sorting through our possession of baseball cards from the 90s, trophies won when Jake was 12, and tons and tons of toys that the boys had. Still, our tiny room off the kitchen is filled with stuff. Ward even said, "You guys have A LOT of stuff." Yes, indeed, we have a lot of stuff.

Even so, I remained positive. "Jake," I said,"We ARE making progress. Let's just think of this as an adventure." The adventure I am referring to is the adventure of pouring money into our house, fixing it up, going through the clutter, and putting our house up for sale, all the while unknowing if we will even sell it. I mean, we needed a little adventure in our lives, right?

Then comes today, when in the chaos of our house, and our usual mornings, I manage to dress the kids, feed the kids, pack a bag to workout (bonus points for me, right?) and head off to their daycare. I head inside just like a normal day. The only car in the parking lot, in broad daylight. Drop them off, and head back to my car. When I get back in, I search for my phone in my purse out of habit. It is not there, but I think in all the craziness I had just left it at home.

I get home and my purse is nowhere to be found. Yep. That's because it was taken from my car. At their daycare. In broad daylight. Within 10 minutes.

I find this just a little ironic because I recently saw this commercial where a family gets robbed -- all except their computer. Apparently their computer was "too old" for the robbers to take. The family walks in -- mom, dad, and son -- and are shocked about all of their belongings being gone. Then, the go to Best Buy and buy a new computer that "won't get stolen." I remember watching that commercial thinking, "This is horrible! Think about people that really get all of their stuff stolen." Well, I can tell you, IT SUCKS.

Luckily, the bank has been great, and I don't think too much damage has been done. The perpetrator tried to make a $9,999,999 charge as a last gasp, I suppose, to our bank account after everything has been cancelled. I find a little bit of humor in that. However, I am totally creeped out at the person that was watching me and my children this morning and took my purse, wallet, and phone. It is a total violation.

It brings me back to the same feeling I had when I was in high school and my car (well, my parents car that I was going to drive) was stolen right out of our driveway. I slept on the floor in my parents room for about a week. It was creepy. These people knew where we lived. That is how I feel now. They have all of my information. They have photos of my kids. They know where my kids go every day. Not Cool.

So, I am trying to process this. I am trying to take "life's waves and ride them with effortless grace" (as my favorite book "Conquest of Mind" says). But it is really, really hard.

I can only hope that this is happening for some reason to teach me some sort of lesson or put something in perspective. I don't know. In the meantime, thank you for listening to my rant.

Month Twenty-two and Twenty-three

2011-03-23T15:46:00.003-05:00

Dear Sam,
What up homie. There is just really too much to talk about here. Your brain is developing too fast than this blog can handle, and certainly way too fast for my sluggish brain and lazy bones to accommodate. However, I will do my best to give this time of your life some justice, because I really do enjoy you right now. Except when you are kicking things or banging your head on the ground. I do not enjoy that.

You are talking up a storm, and I forgot how cute a tiny bubble voice sounds when it says the word “noodle” or “yesssh.” You have just started saying Abe (or Ape) and now you talk about him all the time. As soon as you wake up you say, “Abe seepin’?” And then when I say, “Do you want to wake him up?” You answer, “KAY!”

You are loving the words “yesh”, “no” and “okay” and the power behind them. For awhile everything we asked you, you would answer “no.” But lately, you have been saying “yesh” to a lot of stuff. You know your colors and how to count to three (I know it doesn’t seem as impressive when your brother can count to forty-eleven, but you are only 2).

You hate when your hands are messy or when you have spilled some food on your shirt, yet you refuse to wear a bib. Your eating is still sporadic, and at times has been known to freak out people by how little you eat (Grandma). I am not sure what to make of it, but you are definitely growing and moving like a normal kid. In fact, you have become freakishly tall and tower over the kids in your class (who are already two). I am very impressed at biology and the fact that your body can grow so much only subsiding mostly on pints of blueberries, peanut butter waffles, milk, juice, and pasta. Oh, wait, and handfuls of ketchup. Can’t forget about that. I take some comfort knowing that you have at least ingested some vegetables in the last three months, while definitely not on any sort of routine basis. I think we all know that I will be laughing about this in about 10 years when you and your brother are eating us out of house and home.

You are still quite the sports enthusiast and every single time we go to play outside, you head straight for the wiffle ball bat, tee, and balls. Now, you carry them over by yourself and set them up in the yard. Then, you proceed to knock the balls across the front yard. Your Daddy and I could not believe how well you were hitting the balls! Also, I think you are a lefty. Just like me (don’t you all snicker at my longstanding baseball career). I also think Rob was a lefty too. Anyways, like I have said before, if we do not capitalize on this talent/interest, we as parents have failed you. Also, like a true baseball player, when you were not making contact with the ball you starting kicking the tee and throwing a little fit. I found it all to be enjoyable.

While you are a jock, you also love to keep it real in the “Home Living” section at school. You love the plastic foods (your favorite are the ice cream cones) and you are interested in cooking them all in the tiny, plastic kitchen. You love the Wiggles just like Abe did (does), and you dance to all of their songs. A new, weird development is that you hate when I am in the room and want to dance to Wiggles with you. Only Abe can be with you. You know, sometimes I like to dance to the Wiggles. I mean, I know ALL of the words. But, I can respect your privacy.

You have a great, infectious laugh. You laugh easily and often. It is one of my favorite things about you. You just seem to be up for anything and enjoy anything that is going on. On the other hand, you have a pretty short temper. But, you are not one to let something linger on. Just one head butt to the floor, a good scream, and you are onto the next thing. (Don’t worry, he doesn’t head butt all the time. I just know that Baba is freaking out.)

The other day I took you to the grocery store with me. It was a particularly beautiful day and I rolled down the windows. I am usually pretty cautious about rolling the windows down, because Abe is so sensitive to the wind, and always complains about it. So, before I rolled yours, I checked to see if it was okay. “Sam, do you want some wind?” You looked at me, kicked your feet a little bit and said, “YESH!” The wind blew through your cute little hair and you were loving every second. For some reason that moment just sort of made me realize what kind of person you are and will always be.

Love,
Mama

Four and a Half

2011-03-14T18:49:00.006-05:00

Dear Abe,

A couple weeks ago we had someone over to our house to measure for new carpeting. You know, a stranger that we have never met. This is what you said to her,

"Hi my name is Abe, and this is my brother Sam."

Maybe you thought she didn't give you the correct reaction, because you then followed it up with,

"Hi. My name is Abe, and I like to party."

I am not sure what the carpet lady thought of that, but me and your father were dying laughing. Only four and a half and such a good movie quoter. Your father and I have done well.

So, yes, you are quite the character. Sometimes you really surprise me with the way you can command an audience, or how you have such great comedic timing, because overall your personality is not one that has to be the center of attention. I mean, we aren't on the phone with the people from iCarly to feature you in the next episode, but sometimes, just sometimes, I catch a bit of a showman coming out in you.

The video below is from your Winter Program at school. I featured a video previously of your psycho brother running around. You, on the other hand, were so excited yet not running around like a mad man. When it was time for your class to line up in the back you listened to directions and did as you were told. When you came out, you were front and center and singing your song so well. See below:

What I don't have on tape, is how between your two songs you had the entire audience (parents) cracking up at your jokes. I was completely floored that you were on a stage, making adults laugh, and loving every second. It should be interesting to see if this talent pans out (fingers crossed that a career in SNL is in your future!)

I feel like you have grown about three feet in 6 months. Every time someone sees you they ask if you have grown an inch. Your pants are getting shorter and your arms are sticking out farther in your sleeves. It is like watching a Chia pet grow. You are also eating like a maniac, and never seem to be satisfied. I thought that this time was going to come when you were in high school, on the swim team, but apparently I better start a savings account for groceries because the cost is going to be astronomical.

You are learning so much every day at school, and really in life, I suppose. You come home and tell us about different modes of transportation you learned about, and now you spell out all your favorite words and friends' names.

Last month we went to the children's museum, and you were so excited to see the dinosaurs. You had been learning about them at school, and even knew some of their names. When we get there, the dinosaur exhibit is down a big ramp, and as you get closer it gets darker and you can hear the sounds of dinosaurs and bugs and birds and all of that. You started slowing your pace, and then eventually just stopped and said, "I am NOT going down there." We tried to explain that there aren't real dinosaurs down there and that it is just a recording of sounds, but you weren't having it. So, we said, Okay, and went somewhere else. About 10 minutes later, you decided that you were ready to take on the dinosaurs. And, you did and you loved it. I have learned that you will do things when you are good and ready, at your own pace, at that is okay.

You think things through (maybe too much), but at the very least you come up with some really good questions. For example, while at church the other day (which you call Jesus's house -- it worked when you were little) you had to go to the bathroom so I took you to a little bathroom off to the side. When you got in there you said, "Jesus has BLACK toilets!?!" Like, wow, this guy JC is some wild and crazy dude to have black toilets, because all of ours are white.

You are still a good big brother to Sam, or "Sammy" as you call him. I think you are getting excited about the fact that he likes the same things as you do. And, it is becoming quite clear to you that you are the older brother, and with it comes some pros and cons. Pros: Staying up later. Cons: Getting in trouble for "knowing better." I know, it sucks. I was the oldest too. But I see how Sam watches you and tries to do things like you, and I am sure you see it too. I am so happy that you are a pretty gentle guy, so that you will be a little gentler with Sam as he starts annoying you more and more. Because, he will. Probably a lot.

You are growing up so fast (I know, so cliche), but it is true. You are turning into such a great young man, who will most likely be two feet taller than in two years. I am enjoying this ride of your childhood so much, I just wish it wasn't going so fast. The other night when you were sleeping I just had to take a picture of your bedroom, because I wanted to remember it this way. Your Toy Story and Mario posters, your stuffed animals, and your tiny body in the giant bed.

I will love you forever
I'll love you for always
As long as I'm living
My baby you'll be.

Love,
Mama

Accomplishing. Just not enough.

2011-03-08T16:45:00.002-05:00

Before I post some crap about my kids, I think I will do some housekeeping and check up on the list that I so confidently posted last April. Some things are gettin' done, but some things just aren't. Oh well. I am busy, and currently have a splitting headache. Hugs and kisses everyone. Hugs and kisses.

6. Plan a vacation for Jake and I and 9. Go to Texas
So, I straight up multi-tasked this one. Kudos for me. Jake and I went to Texas, and we had a good time. Then, Jake came down with the bubonic plague the week after and our house looked like a clothes bomb went off. So, thank you universe for never wanting us to plan another vacation. On the brightside, we had a lot of fun!

12. Host a fancy schmancy dinner party
I sort of forgot about this one, but awhile back (I think in November), I invited our friends Ericka and Gus to come over for a "special dinner cooked by Bri from a recipe from Giada." We used the china and everything. The meal results were okay. But, Ericka and Gus were very nice and polite and made pumpkin cheesecake.

13. Redo 1 room in our house
Well, this one we are checking off with gusto! Jake and I have decided to move, and we are putting our house up for sale in April. I am fully positive that this is why I have a splitting headache. However, we (Jake and his Dad) have tiled our downstairs bathroom, and because our furnace broke this weekend we got a new one. Super fun! We also plan to get new carpet throughout our house, plus lots of minor updates and repairs. Everyone thinks this is so exciting, but I do not. I hate this whole process. I hated it before. Nothing excites me about it. And, then, when we do find a house it makes me sick to think of all the money that is involved and how this is such a giant committment. Let's move on ...

19. Read a classic
I am not sure if this means finish the book or just read it, but since I am cranky and need some positive reassurance, let's just say it means just start it. And, in that case, I have started reading "Atlas Shrugged." Hooray for intellect!

Next up, a chronicling of my children in their lives. SPOILER ALERT- There is a video of Abe and Sam makes a sad face now.

Houston, we DON'T have a problem.

2011-02-17T15:30:00.002-05:00

Jake and I are FINALLY going on a vacation. We are going to fly in an airplane and everything. So fancy and hip of us.

We are headed to Houston, Texas, tomorrow for a long weekend. Jake has two friends that live there and I felt it was time for us to finally answer to all of the, "When are you going to come visit us?" from Nick (remember he made a visit there about five years ago) and bite the bullet and do something for ourselves besides getting the "fancy" frozen pizza from Trader Joe's. So, we picked a date, bought the tickets, and tomorrow we will be on our way!

Of course both of us know how important it is to take a break from the children, but both of us are already talking about how we will miss them. It is like the ultimate Catch 22 -- when you are in the depths of parenthood, covered in raviolis/snot/bath water and your child is screaming at the top of his lungs and/or whining about printing off more Mario papers, all you do is dream about having a break. Except, I think we feel the ultimate "break" would be one in which at that particular moment of stress, the doorbell rings with your parents saying they will watch the children, your bags are packed, and you are off to some exotic locale in three seconds flat. But, of course, it doesn't work that way. The day you leave your kids are the cutest they have ever been and they tell you things like you are such a beautiful mom or give you an extra kiss.

But, no worries, I am sure Jake and I will manage to enjoy ourselves. What, with the temps in the 70s in all. HOLLA! I am planning to wear half-tops and flip flops. Because I am on vacation.

Spoons and the Universe

2011-02-10T08:39:00.006-05:00

Sometimes when I am starting to lose my sanity and all faith in the world, the Universe does something to shake me out of it. Or, at least make me laugh.

So, lately, Jake and I have been noticing that our spoon supply has been slowly dwindling. Where the heck are all of our spoons? At first we thought that maybe they were just being hidden behind couches, or just dirty all at once. Remember, we were the family that uses too many spoons.

But, then, we started to observe Abe's behavior closely -- specifically, his yogurt eating behavior -- and therein lie the answer. Lately, Abe has been helping himself to food in the refrigerator whenever he is hungry, which seems like ALL THE TIME. I swear, that kid eats like a maniac. We are generally okay with it, as long as he eats his meals and he eats something healthy. His favorite go-to snack is yogurt. He reaches in, grabs a cup, grabs a spoon and eats. Then, ever so dutifully he throws his yogurt cup away in the trash, and puts the spoon in the sink. Uh, well, that is what we thought. Apparently he had been throwing his spoon away too. Because, you know, it is so much easier to throw it all away and not have to worry about washing those pesky spoons. I am sure in his head, our spoons just regenerate themselves. I mean, what 4 year old bothers to think about where the dishes come from. Poof! They are there!

So, after confronting him about the spoon throwing away, and telling him that from now on all silverware is to be put into the sink NOT into the trash can (Parenting note: Beware of the things that you take for granted that your kids should automatically know) we figured we would have to get some more spoons. But, Jake remembered we had been gifted a "bonus" set of silverware that matches our existing set for our wedding. This nugget of knowledge had been filed away under the "never will I ever have to use that!" but surprisingly extra utensils, plates, glasses have come quite in handy when you have two children in the house.

So, he pulled out the set and started emptying them into the sink to wash. Then he said, "Wow, this set has A LOT of spoons." I took a look at the package and it had four of everything - forks, butter knives, teaspoons, etc. As I was looking at the package I saw a little asterisk with a note that said, "Including four bonus teaspoons."

I don't know about you, but I feel like God (or whatever you believe in - heck, there could be a special silverware Deity) included that little asterisk especially for us. Almost like a wink to say, "Hey dudes. I know your kid threw away all of your spoons, and you seem like you need a break, so here are some bonus spoons."

Thank you Universe for that little help. It is moments like those that keep me from shaving my head and speaking in incoherent sentences. I guess if you pay attention, you will start to notice your bonus spoons.

Month 20 and 21

2011-02-07T19:22:00.004-05:00

Dear Sweet Sam,

Holy Moly, Geez Louise, kid. You are one old dude. When did the twenties creep up on me? (That’s what they call it in the cool toddler circles – The Twenties. It’s all the rage.)

As per usual, a lot has happened and time has flown by faster than I can timely record it. The second child stuff does go much faster … I can only imagine what it is like to have lots of kids. What do you think Mrs. Duggar does with her giant litter? She probably can barely remember names, let alone what words her kids are saying. See, Sam, you are very lucky that you are not the 18th child.

You are still a busy little guy, and cause for all of those that are in your presence to comment, “Wow! He sure is busy!” Which may be code for something else, I am not sure. For me it means, that I can never for one second relax when you are around because if I turn my head, you are on the couch and bouncing. In fact, I think you have tiny springs in your feet because you seem to bounce around a lot. You know, some people like to stand idly while they are doing various tasks, while you prefer to be in a jumping state. Which is cool. It’s just when you start jumping OFF of things, that it starts to get crazy.

For a prime example, below is a video of you at your school's Winter Program. You were included to participate because you were just moved up to the "Twos" room (a decision I am sure they are regretting) even though you aren't quite there. We had gotten to your school about 15 minutes before the show started which was our first mistake. You were SO EXCITED that you would not sit still.

That's Abe's voice sitting next to me trying to get you to sit down. That is also only a tiny snippet of your antics. Your father's blood pressure was about to go through the roof, so I thought it best to not video tape your while you were going crazy and try to remedy the situation.

This month I saw a different side to you. Your nurturing side. You love the babies. You like to push babies in strollers. You like to give babies bottles. You like to rock (or thrash) the baby to sleep in its tiny little cradle. Seeing all of this in action at your cousins house sort of blew me away. (and, I mean a baby doll, not a real baby.) My little meathead kid loves to take care of a baby. It was pretty sweet. You got Lotso (Huggin Bear) for Christmas, and you enjoy tucking him in with you at night. I mean, CAN YOU BE ANY MORE PRECIOUS!?

I think that this year at Christmas, I saw a first glimpse of you wanting to be independent of your brother. You knew what were YOUR presents and loved them so much, I think, mostly because they were your own. I didn’t realize that you would understand and appreciate getting your own stuff at such a young age, but you totally got it. And of course, it is something I will have to learn since I never had an older or younger sister to share with. But, I pick things up pretty quickly, so don’t worry.

The next video below is not really a good video by means of showcasing any of your tricks or your words or whatever. But, I really like it because it shows your sweet little face, your crazy hair (that deserves a whole blog post), and your voice.(Let's certainly forget about my voice, because I hate it.)

I wanna kiss your cheeks all day long.
Love,
Mama

Icepocolypse 2011

2011-02-01T12:14:00.005-05:00

I know, I know. I am sure those of you in the Indianapolis area are so sick of hearing about this ice storm, but I thought that there could be some readers out of state that would be interested in what is going on, as well as the riveting perspective of the Drlich family. Also, I think this could be good documentation for posterity's sake.

Currently, we have gotten .62 inches of ice. I think that it is supposed to get worse this afternoon and overnight. Words like "crippling ice" have been thrown around as well as the terms "Thundersnow." What the heck is Thundersnow!?

Jake's school has been cancelled, and I am able to work from home so we are all warmy toasty and tucked into our house. Currently it is nap time in the Drlich house, so things are calm and serene. However, I know things will not be "serene" for long, so that is why I added alcoholic beverages to the "survival supply list" right after diapers and before water. Priorities.

Here are some very amateur photos I have taken. My favorite is of Ozzie on the ice. It's like a doggie optical illusion. If only his chihuahua kin could see him now ...

More updates to follow, as long as we have power ...

Gettin' all "Maury Povich" up in here

2011-01-18T13:15:00.006-05:00

It has been a while since I have written about Ozzie (of course besides mentioning I left him out of the Christmas card this year). I used to write about him all the time. Remember this post about Abe's stuffed animals? Or this one about his mistaken identity? But, Ozzie is still a proud member of our family, and we still love him just as much as we did "pre-kids".

(Here is a lovely recent portrait of him taken by Ryan Smith. I like to call it, "Dog Awaiting Squirrel.")

So, when we heard that you can detect what breeds make up your dog through DNA testing, Jake and I were all about it. We made plans to purchase the test in honor of Ozzie's 9th birthday in February. But, lucky for us, Ward gifted us the kit for Christmas so we would not have to wait any longer!

Jake and I had so much fun speculating what sort of breed he was. When we bought him from the pet store (on super sale because he was a mutt and no one wanted him), they told us he was a "Lab mix." As he started getting bigger and fluffier we knew that may have been true, but he was definitely something else. Our standard answer for what type of dog he is, is "German Shepherd and Chow." Makes sense, right? He definitely looks like a German Shepherd. (see below)

But, his personality never really reflected what I thought a german shepherd should be. I always thought of them as such smart, regimented, strong dogs. Ozzie is ... well, not regimented. He is smart, I guess. I mean, he doesn't get us the morning paper and cook us breakfast, but he knows how to sit, and stay, and all of that.

We always assumed that chow made sense because he was so protective of the family (especially the kids) and hated other children. Plus, his curly tail, and ultimate fluffiness.

So, we got the results. And, you guys, I have never laughed so hard in all my life. But, it seems to make sense. He is definitely a mutt -- his parents are mutts themselves, but they were able to identify which breeds he is crossed with. He is mostly German Shepherd and then partly ... wait for it ... CHIHUAHUA. Yes. Ozzie is related to this:

And, you know, after the hilarity wore off, it all seemed to make sense. Remember his girlfriend Lupita? He also does love to snuggle and thinks that he is a lap dog. I have never tried carrying him around in my purse, but I am sure he would enjoy it.

You know, even though I never once considered Chihuahua to be the type of breed that Ozzie is, I do find it to be so fitting with our family. I don't think you can find two more random dogs to pair with each other. So, even though we loved and accepted Ozzie before, I can now whole-heartedly welcome into our crazy, random, beautiful family.

das Ende and el Final!

"Mr. Belvedere is the light of my life"

2011-01-06T10:31:00.003-05:00

Because of Jake's strong affinity for all things Mr. Belvedere, when I heard about a Belvedere-themed SNL skit from the 90s featuring Chris Farley, Mike Meyers, Adam Sandler, and Tom Hanks (WOODY!), I had to search and find. Needless to say, it was quite the pay off. I thought I would share. Enjoy! Brocktoon!

Mr. Belvedere
Uploaded by randland. - Full seasons and entire episodes online.

And we’re baaaaaaaaaaaaaack: Holiday Recap 2010

2011-01-05T14:21:00.012-05:00

I have been MIA because life has been busy and Santa came, and we have had to figure out where to put the 32 Marios we got. So, you know, that takes a lot of time. Plus, I watched “Inception” and that really fried my brain for a few days.

But, the Holidays were wonderful. The boys were great. I know, I am painting a truly captivating picture of what our Holidays were like. Let’s just say this – I feel very blessed, very loved, very bloated, and very tired of vacuuming.

Here are some photos to detail some of the chaos.

We made our trek to Jasper for Thanksgiving to visit Baba and Rob, Aunt Jeanie, and Uncle Robby. Baba had her house decorated for Christmas, so that made the boys very excited. And, they got to enjoy special treats like hot chocolate with Halloween shaped marshmallows (yeah, not sure about that, but whatevs). Abe's favorite thing was the carousel he was sitting next to.

Sam, of course, liked everything that was expensive and breakable. But, he did love all things "Tanta" (Santa) and a musical piano playing Snowman that sang very loudly and repetitively. It did not annoy ANYONE!

Here's a good shot of Baba and Rob and the boys.

The Christmas Card photo shoot did not go as I originally planned, but I was able to get some good shots of them in their element, if you will. And, yes, their element includes pjs covered in that mornings breakfast but whatever. Jake was very upset with me that I did not include Ozzie in the card, so I will formally apologize for that on this platform. Ozzie does indeed wish you all a very Merry Christmas.

Christmas was wonderfully chaotic -- heavy on the wonderful and light on the chaos -- which is good for everyone's sanity. Below are two of Abe's favorite presents -- His Greg Wiggles shirt (the yellow Wiggle and his FAVORITE Wiggle) and a Mario doll. At Christmas, he asked everyone to not call him Abe, but call him Greg for the remainder of the day. And you know, he did not take of that shirt for 3 days.

Baba found Uncle Robby's Mario doll from when he was a kid, and Uncle Robby gave it to Abe. He really enjoyed it, even though Mario didn't have a hat. I mean, it was awesome, even though he didn't have a hat. I mean, he liked it, even though he doesn't have his hat. (Are you catching my drift. He was a little fixated on the fact that he didn't have a hat. Sweet, sweet, anal child.)

And, of course, here is a nice photo of my children in their "element" -- awesome smiles all around, and a snotty nose. Perfect! But, I sure do love them.

A Wiggly Wintry Scene

2010-12-09T15:45:00.002-05:00

The company I work for has an annual "Holiday Card Drawing Contest" for the children relatives of associates. And finally, this year, Abe was old enough to submit a drawing. I thought this would be right up his alley since he loves to color and draw so much. But, there were a few rules you had to follow -- it has to be a winter scene, and it cannot include anything that has to do with Christmas. No Santa, no Christmas tree, no angels, etc. etc.

This is pretty limiting, I mean, we see the same old snowman from kids year after year. I tried to encourage him to think outside of the box. Although, I think his mind was just stuck inside the box of his own head, and he had no intentions of drawing anything that had to do with winter.

So, in true Abe fashion, he drew the Wiggles with their names written above their heads, and added a snowman, I think just to appease me. So, I present to you, "A Wiggly Winter Scene" by Abe Patrick Drlich.

He is sure to win first place.

Month 19 and 4.25 Years Old

2010-12-07T13:30:00.005-05:00

Hello Boys (said in the voice of the lady monster with a beehive from Monsters Inc.),

As I was looking at my gargantuan and ridiculous to-do list at the next task I should take on, I felt the best use of my time would be to write your letter. This may be the ghetto-est letter that I have ever written for the following reasons:

1. It is combined to both of you.
2. There are no current photos of you.
3. It is HORRIBLY late.
4. I am including the photo below. I feel that it is capturing how I am feeling right now. Except pretend that the giant Bears blow up man is my life. My life is slapping me in my head.

I have a lot of good excuses for the reasons above -- some are better than others, sure. For example, the reason I do not have any pictures of you is because I cannot upload any new photos because our computer is maxed to the brim on storage space, which requires us to buy an external hard drive. It sounds so easy in theory -- just go to the store and buy an external hard drive. But, that would require me getting into the car with one or more children, buckling Sam into a car seat that smells like puke or listening to Abe dry heave from the smell of puke and getting to the store. That, of course, is after making it out of the house and past the growing pile of laundry, the multiple pages of half-colored Mario, Wiggles, and Toy Story sheets that are splayed all over the place, all over the house, and then tripping over the pile of shoes that are in a pile right outside the door in our garage.

But, this isn't about me and my inability to get anything accomplished. This is about you two! And while I could go on and on about the joys of winter (aka puke-a-thons) and Holidays (aka stress-a-thons) I will just keep to what you guys are up to.

We had a very nice Thanksgiving at Baba and Rob's house. You both were very excited to be there, and you loved all of the Christmas decorations. Sam loved all of the balls on the tree and tried to remove them and throw them wherever he could. Abe loved the carousel and the idea of hot chocolate. (I say "idea" because he really, really wanted it, and then did not like it. Although he did eat his fair share of marshmallows. So whatever.)

We watched the Macy's parade, and Abe got very excited to see Buzz Lightyear, and then sort of was over it. I mean, it is sort of long, and I was getting a bit annoyed with all of those Broadway show numbers. Obviously, it does not keep the attention of a 4-year-old either.

Abe fell asleep about an hour before dinner, so I woke him up right before. He sat at the table and said, "Mama, why did you do that to me? I was sleeping so good in there." Of course, he ate nothing, but then later had three turkey sandwich sliders. Sam ate nothing. Which is in true fashion to his Olsen twin diet he has been maintaining as of late.

When we got home we put up the Christmas decorations and watched the movie "Elf." Sam, once again, thought the ornaments were balls and when he got a hold of one threw it as far as he could. This usually resulted in shattering. Now, however, he likes to throw things AT the tree. Whether it be a ball, crayon, Toy Story toy, whatever. This does not go over well for him.

Sam, you are talking up a storm. Well, you are saying a lot of words and pronouncing almost all of them wrong, but I enjoy it anyway. You say "Tanta" (Santa), "Lello" (yellow), "Peeeeez" (please), "Sheck" (Shrek), "Bafff"(bath). The jury is still out on whether you know who I am. You say Mama when you are crying and want to be picked up. If I ask you who I am, you just look at me and smile. You have called pictures of me, "Baba," and my favorite, "Bri." So, I am not sure what the deal is there. If it is some sort of game you are playing, which honestly I would not be surprised.

We had a big stand off with you about saying, "Please." You just would not do it. You would have rather starved than said the word "Please." We knew you could say it, but you just wouldn't on demand. Finally, I broke down and decided to try fruit snacks. We have been holding off giving you fruit snacks because of their crack-like quality with children. Abe will soon be going to a rehab facility to break himself of the addiction. But, one day, you picked up the little package on the table and started following me around while carrying them. Then you said, "PEEEEEEEEEZ." Well, I just had to give them to you.

You are quite the character, I must say. You are pretty funny. You have quite the temper and like to push things pretty far. The other day you were trying to lay on top of Ozzie and laughing at how he was getting so upset. I grabbed you and moved you away and said, "NO!" You know what you did? You growled at me. Yes. Growled.

Abe, you are four going on 35. I love how you talk, and the words you use. Trying new words left and right. You used the word "suddenly" the other day as well as "Duh." I asked if you knew what "duh" meant and you said, "Yeah. It means ... snocky." Well played my man. When in doubt just make up a new word.

Your favorite thing to do is cut out pictures of toys from ads, catalogs, magazines, etc. You like to make collages and sometimes put them in baggies and call them your "Papers." I am not really sure what this means, but I am just going to go with the fact that I think you are creative. You also love to color, and you are pretty good at it for a 4 year old. You are very particular about the right colors -- and you don't really tolerate people taking artistic liberties on things (I am talking to you Gigi Toot Toot.)

I hope you both know I love you very much. Even though I am stressed and I have a lot to do, all of this Holiday stuff is all worth it to make memories with you two. You two are so much fun to be around (when you are not puking or screaming or growling, for that matter) and I would not have my house decorated in any other way besides with Mario coloring book papers and tiny little socks throughout. When we were putting up the Christmas decorations,Abe said, "This is a special day!"

You are right, Abe, and you will never know how special it was for me.

(And now, a warmy snuggly picture of Ozzie).

Love,
Mama

Thanksgiving 1985 - The 25th Year Anniversary

2010-11-24T13:31:00.003-05:00

The very first known VHS recording we have is of our 1985 Thanksgiving. I was six, Robby was three (almost four), and my parents were 31. Yes, that's right. My parents were the same age I am right now.

Since it is the 25th anniversary of that recording, I was thinking how funny it would be to have a re-release. You know, digitally remastered with hours of bonus footage and special commentary. This deluxe box set would include the following:

* The 20-minute making of "Thanksgiving 1985." You will delve deep into the mind of Rob (Dad), and he will share his thoughts about why he decided to set the camera on a tripod for 50 minutes and record the family eating. Some say that Rob was genius filmmaker ahead of his time.

* The transcribed commentary of the 50 minute dinner. You can learn what little Robby actually was saying to his 1 year old cousin Adam, and what little Brianne is mumbling to herself as she sings slightly incoherent songs.

* Gaga's recipes. Get all of Grandma's recipes for the meal served, even the coveted jello salad.

* Fashion Police. Watch as Brianne issues some tickets to the shoulder pad offenders, and even breaks down her bad perm, mint colored sweat pants, and sweater ensemble. A special glimpse into Jill's "Michael J. Fox" cropped doo.

* Bonus Disc of Robby's "Under the Table Song." Who knew that laying underneath a coffee table and making up random lyrics and melodies could result in such music gold. Some sample lyrics include, "Cause if we can do it! We can do it! SPLITS! SPLITS!"

All joking aside, Thanksgiving 1985 is really one of my favorite videos ever, and I am so thankful to have footage of me and my family from so long ago (bad perm and all).

Here's to a happy Thanksgiving 2010 and to creating some video magic of your own!

Month Eighteen

2010-11-05T12:44:00.001-05:00

Dear Sam,

So, since last month was just a photo update, I really owe you a nice and meaty recap of the 18th month of your life, and/or your life thus far. Lucky for you (and me), there has been a lot going on! You are at the age where your mind sort of explodes with information and you can do and say lots of things. So, let’s get started!

First, I want to make note of your size. You are slimming down. Really. I am serious. Even though it may not look like it, you are getting to be very svelte. At your doctor’s appointment your height was in the 90th percentile and your weight only in the 50th. I am wondering if most of your weight is being held in your cheeks.

But, it is no surprise you are slimming down because you are on a special Sam regimen which includes not sitting still ever, and only drinking milk and eating fruit, with added “tastes” of other foods just to spice it up. (Maybe I will try this regimen. Although, it does require about 14 hours of sleep a day, which I am not sure I can squeeze in.)

Your busyness and energy are still going strong. And, now when we go on walks, you like to walk yourself. Although it is more of a trot around the neighborhood. You are freakishly good at kicking a soccer ball around and say, “GOAL! GOAL! GOAL!” as you are kicking it. Sometimes, you carry the ball around like it’s a stuffed animal. If we don’t capitalize on this interest in sports, we as parents, have failed you. Your Daddy tried throwing you the ball one day to see if you could catch it, and YOU COULD. (Don’t tell Abe, but he couldn’t catch a ball until he was 3. Or maybe, he didn’t care to catch a ball until he was 3.) And, you caught the ball five times in a row. It was not a fluke. Okay, I am done bragging about your sports skills.

You are talking up a storm now, and are at the point where we hear a new word every day. You call yourself “Mama” (I have no idea why) and say “DogDog” the most. My favorite is the way you say, “No.” It is about 5 syllables long and his a bit of attitude in it. You call your blanked, “Nigh Nigh” and sometimes when you get tired, you say, “Nigh Nigh?” As if asking us to go to bed. I never in all of your 18 months thought that would happen.

You were Luigi and your brother was Mario (Ya-yee-o as you say) for Halloween. I honestly think you could care less, although you absolutely did not want to be SpongeBob and would not wear the costume. I think you knew who Luigi was, and the fact that it was cool like Abe’s was good enough for you. You love everything that Abe loves. You had the best time every trick-or-treating. You would walk right up to the door and grab a handful of candy out of the bowl. I am sure you don’t even know what candy is, because you have never had a piece, but you HAD TO HAVE the candy IN YOUR HANDS at all times. You held one piece in each of your tiny fists. You got so excited at all of the pumpkins (or Bo-bos – I know, don’t ask) and all of the other trick-or-treaters.

Your favorite things are animals, sports, Wiggles, and anything that Abe likes. If Abe is liking Toy Story, you like Toy Story. If Abe is liking Super Mario, you like Super Mario. You still love Elmo and get excited when you see him. You love the Wiggles (even though Abe has moved on) and you try to dance along to their songs. It is pretty adorable. You love to try new things and seem to enjoy every new situation we put you in. I know when you are older, your big brother will have to watch out for you, because he will be more cautious. But, it is good that you balance each other out. He loves you a lot, and you are lucky.

While you can be a bit meat-headish, you can also be super snuggly. In the mornings you always want to drink your milk in my lap and I see you walking over to me, with a sippy cup in one hand and holding your blankey up in the other. It is one of my favorite things ever. You, snuggled in my lap, all warmy toasty, laying on the couch before the sun comes up.

Yesterday, I was digging through your drawer to get a pair of PJs for you to wear. I found a pair of Elmo PJs -- softy pants with tiny Elmos on them, and a long-sleeved shirt with Elmo’s face. It made me so happy to think about you wearing them, and how cute you would look in them. And then, it hit me like sometimes it does, that this time of the Elmo PJs and lap snuggles is a fleeting one. And for that moment I wanted to stop time and keep you in your Elmo PJs forever. Sometimes being a Mama hurts so bad.

Love,
Mama

Month 18 Video

2010-10-30T12:15:00.002-05:00

In Spite of Ourselves

2010-10-19T12:57:00.003-05:00

The Thursday night before Jake and I got married, we hosted a sort of impromptu party at our townhouse. All of Jake's groomsmen (all eight of them) needed to be fitted for their tuxes the next day -- Yes, the DAY before the wedding. So, we decided to take advantage of the festivities and invite as many people as we could to our little party.

I won't get into the details of the party, but a good time was had by all. One of Jake's friends, Dave, brought along some music (I think this is where his friends started their "cowboy phase" -- that's right guys- BURN!).

At one point Dave turned to Jake and I said, "I want to play you this song, because it reminds me of you two." I was so excited, because no one had ever said that a song reminded them of me! I could only imagine it was about the most beautiful woman in the world, and how much a man loved that most beautiful woman in the world, and how they were the happiest people in all the world. Tra la la. Well, as you can imagine, that is not what the song was about.

But, I really can't imagine a better song for Jake and I.

Click here to listen to the song.

Happy Anniversary to my undie sniffin' husband. I'm never gonna let you go.

In Spite of Ourselves
by John Prine

She don't like her eggs all runny
She thinks crossin' her legs is funny
She looks down her nose at money
She gets it on like the Easter Bunny
She's my baby I'm her honey
I'm never gonna let her go

He ain't got laid in a month of Sundays
I caught him once and he was sniffin' my undies
He ain't too sharp but he gets things done
Drinks his beer like it's oxygen
He's my baby
And I'm his honey
Never gonna let him go

In spite of ourselves
We'll end up a'sittin' on a rainbow
Against all odds
Honey, we're the big door prize
We're gonna spite our noses
Right off of our faces
There won't be nothin' but big old hearts
Dancin' in our eyes.

She thinks all my jokes are corny
Convict movies make her horny
She likes ketchup on her scrambled eggs
Swears like a sailor when shaves her legs
She takes a lickin'
And keeps on tickin'
I'm never gonna let her go.

He's got more balls than a big brass monkey
He's a wacked out werido and a lovebug junkie
Sly as a fox and crazy as a loon
Payday comes and he's howlin' at the moon
He's my baby I don't mean maybe
Never gonna let him go

In spite of ourselves
We'll end up a'sittin' on a rainbow
Against all odds
Honey, we're the big door prize
We're gonna spite our noses
Right off of our faces
There won't be nothin' but big old hearts
Dancin' in our eyes.
There won't be nothin' but big old hearts
Dancin' in our eyes.

Dig and Nuts

2010-10-15T13:22:00.005-05:00

Things I am totally digging right now:

* Jon Hamm.
Where do I begin? He's hilariously funny (Emmy's opening anyone? 30 Rock Live show? SNL?) and he makes me actually like Don Draper. And, oh yeah. LOOK at him.

* Fall and it's lovely weather.

* This photo of my kids.

* Deadlines.

* Balsamic Vinegar and Cilantro. Not together, but separate. I love them both equally and wonder if I could put either on all of my dishes.

What is totally driving me nuts:

* The Kardashians.

* Justin Bieber. He actually makes me angry.

* Laundry.

* Deadlines.

* Lady Gaga and Katy Perry. They are equally annoying to me.

Getting into the autumnal spirit

2010-10-14T08:07:00.004-05:00

After I took this photo the first thing I thought about was this story I read a couple years ago called, "It's Decorative Gourd Season, Motherf*#&ers." (Well, maybe it wasn't the first thing I thought about. The first thing was probably something like, "Oh sweet Lord those leaves are going to be a pain to rake.") As you can tell from the title, there are some curse words in there, so consider yourself warned. Please feel free to laugh your butt off.

Mama vs. Abe

2010-10-07T14:05:00.006-05:00

Lately, Abe and I have been a bit at odds. Our bickering usually takes place in the morning, when our normal, sunny dispositions are a bit groggy, cranky and not getting along with each other. I mean, I get it. No one likes to get up before the sun does, and I for one would love to sit around in my jammies watching cartoons, not to be bothered with petty things like breakfast and wearing pants.

So, almost instantly in the morning our battle of wits begins. Abe usually wanders into our room, towing his blankey and curls up in the spot that Jake had left in the bed. I am trying to ignore Sam's screeching and babbling in his crib, and try to urge Abe to go talk to his brother. Lately, Abe has just stayed in his spot in the bed, ignoring my requests. This annoys me. Go entertain your crazy brother! Go throw some books or toys in there! Make him laugh! Come on, man, it's too early for Mama to get up!

Begrudgingly, I manage to wake up and grab the crazy, little chubby baby out of the crib and we head downstairs. Now, I have posted before how my mornings are a little crazy. Thankfully, this year things have gotten a bit easier. However, my mornings are no walk in the park.

We have a usual routine of getting milk, getting breakfast, getting dressed, etc. etc. And, during the "getting dressed" part of the routine is the part that is causing all of the distress between Abe and I. Because, at 4 years old, I know he can get dressed by himself. I have SEEN him get dressed by himself. Yet, he acts as though I am trying to pull out his toenails one by one.

"Abe, come on. Put on your clothes."
Blanket chewing silence. (I have an entire sidebar planned for the blankey)
"Abe. Commmme. Onnnn. You are a big boy!"
Whines or groans of some sort.
"ABE!"
"MAMA! I AM SO COOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLDDDDDDD."

That seems to be his excuse for everything. Then he proceeds to slither off of his seat, eyes glued to the TV, blanket in the mouth, holding something (a book, a toy, a brochure). He basically acts more passive than a drugged up elephant.

So, I get angry. And frustrated. And, ask him what his problem is. And, why he can't get dressed like a big boy. The fight continues when it is time to put on our shoes. I usually try to wrangle Sam first, before he has started hanging off the treadmill, and after he has played a little tune at the piano. Sometimes this is a risk, because he decides to take a dip in Ozzie's water bowl. But, I have learned to deal with that. When it is Abe's turn it takes me multiple times to get him to sit down, and then instruct him to point his foot TOWARD ME. At this point tempers are flared and he will usually say something like, "I AM ANGRY AT YOU! YOU ARE A BAD MAMA!"

The next hurdle is getting him to leave his green blankey at home, because he does not take that to school.

(SIDEBAR: Okay, everyone knows about Abe's green blankey. It is pretty much like part of our family now. A stinky, green pet. At first we thought it was cute that he would carry around his blankey, and we knew it was something that made him feel secure. Then, he started chewing on his blankey, and while we had never seen that before, we just rolled with it. Well, fast forward 3 years later, and the kid still has it. I think I figured that eventually he would grow out of it, and it's not like he takes it to the grocery store with him. But, when he is at home and upset about something, it is his go-to. It is comforting to him. So, we were okay with it. That is until we went to the dentist and she was all, "Oh hells yes. Get that stanky blankey all up out of his mouth." Okay, she didn't say that. But she said that his teeth were moving from it. The poor guy will most likely have braces due to my wonky teeth that he inherited -- sorry bud -- but the blankey chewing is not helping. She suggested we just "give it away." Oh sure lady. I am pretty sure that he would not talk to us for about 5 years. So, anyway, crazy, neurotic me is now dealing with Abe's blankey dilemma.)

So, I tell him everyday, "Abe you cannot take that blankey." This morning he held his green blankey and said, "Hold on. I just need to smell it." Pause. "It smells SO good!" And then off he went into the car.

(Yeah, I know.)

Once they are locked and loaded in the car, I am usually feeling bad about my attitude and I am relieved to have made it this far. I have also had some swallows of coffee. So, I usual apologize to Abe for being upset with him. Now, at his mature age of four, he accepts my apology and apologizes to me for "yelling and crying at me." Sometimes he will even say, "I love you, Mama." I usually try to take advantage of our good talk and ask some more questions. But, usually he will get to his max, and say, "Can we stop talking now?"

Advantage, Abe.

The Adventures of an Ex-Athlete

2010-10-01T13:19:00.003-05:00

It's not every day that you can say your muscle soreness is due from a particularly daunting battle of tug-o-war. In fact, it is something that I am not sure I ever want to say again. Last weekend I was hobbling around after competing in tug-of-war, a 5k run, a medley relay (with a baton and all), and an obstacle course. I mean, what was I thinking? I am certainly not a young spring chicken. My body enjoyed telling me that with every step for the next few days.

And, so, to continue this inhumane journey on my twice post-partum (and totally sexy) bod, my athletic pursuits continue into this weekend.

I am writing this on the eve of the 2010 University of Indianapolis (or UIndy as it is now called) Alumni swim meet. Yes, alumni (including me) are swimming in a "meet." I say, "meet" because my body will not be generating speeds fast enough to be considered anything more than lap swimming.

I have swam three times in the last ten years. Obviously, I am not doing this as any sort of athletic endeavor. I was having a conversation with my friend Stephanie about really injuring ourselves while going off the blocks. The thought never ocurred to me, and once my head went there, it continued to spiral into all of the other anxiety producing things I should be considering. Such as:

* Wearing a bathing suit in public
* Wearing a swim cap in public
* The possibility of not completing a 50 yard freestyle in under a minute
* What my body may look like while on the blocks in a "starting position"
* What my body may look like while diving into the water, off of the blocks
* What my body may look like while swimming
* What my face will look like after swimming

All of my anxiety aside, I am looking forward to hanging out with some old swimmers. And, it will be quite surreal being on the pool deck, ten years later. I will have to resist the urge to head over to the swimmer's house after the meet. Sure, my body doesn't look and work like it used to. But, really, it's not like I have been looking and working on it all that much anyways.

Let's just hope no one pulls a hammy.

Month Seventeen

2010-09-22T10:08:00.005-05:00

Dear Sam,

Today you are seventeen months old! TODAY. That means that I am making up for being so late (and missing the sixteenth month) by buying so punctual and with it. Although, it is all a ruse, becuase I am SO NOT with it. I am not even the opposite of with it, I have taken a sidetrack train to crazy town. But, enough about me. Until I get my stuff together, I will just post some great photos that were taken by our friend Mr. Smith (Dad of Sanna and Riley and photographer extraordinare).

Freudian Four Year Old Moments

2010-09-20T15:13:00.008-05:00

In Abe's school this month, the theme is "All About Me" and this week they are focusing on their families. Today they were to draw a picture of their family. Jake was looking at Abe's drawing -- Mama, Daddy, and Abe. Someone was glaringly missing.

"Abe, why isn't Sam in the picture?" Jake asked.

"He's at the doctor," Abe said very matter of factly.

I thought that was a pretty creative answer. Knowing Sam's track record, it would be completely plausible that he was indeed at the doctor. However, he would most likely not be at the doctor by himself, so there were some holes in his theory.

Abe later admitted that he just didn't know how to draw Sam. To which Jake replied, "Just draw a big head with a tiny body." I am wondering if there is something more to the missing Sam. I guess we will learn more from Abe's drawings. I really hope that he doesn't start drawing mustaches on me or something.

Drlich Dance Party

2010-09-09T17:54:00.004-05:00

Just watch the video, and then I will comment.

Okay, maybe that was way funnier at the moment. I find it to be very random, although his father is Jake. Then it makes a lot of sense.

Then, things got even crazier ...

And, no, no one told him to put his shorts on his head. That's all Original Abe.

And, then it got CRAZIER ...

Year Four (Month Forty-Eight)

2010-09-09T11:45:00.005-05:00

Dear Abe,

Happy Birthday! (Okay, I know your birthday was 11 days ago, but you can't read yet, so I am home free.) You are so. Freaking. Old. I can't believe it. It dawned on me the other day that I remember things from being four, so as of right now you will probably remember stuff when you are older. I hope you remember me always as beautiful and hilarious.

Anyway, for your birthday, your Daddy and I took you to your first concert -- A Wiggles Concert. We were SO EXCITED. Yes, "we" as in me and your Daddy. I am not sure if you were that excited. In fact you even told us after that you were, "a little freaked out."

When we got to the theater we promptly went to the merchandise booth and bought you two toys and Daddy got a tshirt. Maybe he will save it for you to wear when you are older. But, let's just hope when you are older you will not want to wear it. To be honest, it makes me a little uncomfortable when your Daddy wears it.

Then, we found our seats and sat down. You sat between us, clutching your toys in stone silence. You pretty much did not move the entire time. Once in awhile you would wave, but you definitely did not sing and dance unlike me. I could not hold still during the "Shimmy Shake." I think you found it too loud and it was quite a lot to take in.

It wasn't until we got home that night that you were singing and dancing away and talking about your time there. But, that is just how you roll. You like to process things. And, you don't really like loudness. Let's face it, you are very much like your father. And thankfully, I am fully trained in the ways of your fathers brain, so I seem to understand what you are thinking too. I am the "Abe Whisperer."

You seem to be enjoying school very much. You love to color and draw and paint. You can write your name, and some of the time you do it in a mirror reflection manner -- meaning everything is exactly backwards. I find that strangely intriguing, and once again wonder if this is a problem or that possibly you are a genius. Let's just go with the genius thing.

You love to draw the Wiggles and you are very detailed with them (besides the fact that they just have a head with arms and legs coming out of it.) However, you draw the logo with the Trademark symbol in it.

I have really enjoyed watching how you interact with other kids. You love playing with other kids, and are very friendly. You are a pretty good boy, and when another kid is doing something that you know is wrong, you laugh nervously. I feel that the nervous laughter will at least delay your participation in doing naughty things. You love to invent games to play, and you have no problem telling the other kids what role they will be playing.

For example, even though no kid at your school knows who the Wiggles are (besides everything you have told them) you produce, direct, and star in a Wiggles performance on the little stage in the classroom. And, surprisingly the kids go along with it! It makes me happy to know that even though you like something different from them, you are okay with it, and even invite them to play with YOU. This skill will definitely bode well for you in high school. Let's just hope you have moved from the Wiggles phase by then, because I am not sure if the kids will play along.

Sometimes you say things so articulate and poignant that I think you are wise beyond your years -- "You know Daddy, right now I like the Wiggles, but in a little bit I will like Thomas, and then I will like Toy Story again." And, then, you say something so weird I remember you are four. "Mama, I can't sleep because the fan has a mean face." But, I really like four years old. You talk and talk, like to watch more "grown up" shows, can be reasoned with, and you are pretty hilarious.

My favorite time to spend with you is when I put you to bed and you ask me to lay with you "just for a minute." So we just chat. You seem to be more chatty at this time, mostly I think because you are putting off going to sleep. And sometimes, I wonder when this time is going to end. When it won't be cool for me to lay in your bed and talk about your day.

Okay, let's not think about that anymore.

Love,
Mama
AKA, The Abe Whisperer

Behind, busy, and getting overhwhelmed ...

2010-09-02T13:02:00.002-05:00

I know I am way behind on blogging, and I have yet to blog the following:

* Sam's Month 16
* Abe's 4th Birthday
* The Wiggly Concert!
* Thoughts on my recent swimming experience (oh yeah, this one will be great!)

For some reason this week is wearing me down, and I have been feeling very overwhelmed, and then stressed. And then, I get very upset because it is silly that I am stressed about seemingly unimportant things like fixing our treadmill, getting Abe a birthday cake, Sam's constant cold, the upkeep of our atrotious yard, the piling laundry, and work tasks that seem to come in at a relentless pace and yet always seem to be interrupted by the items previously mentioned. In my head, I know that this is not very important stuff and I should be thankful that we are healthy and have a roof over our head and a DVR. But, the crazy part of my brain just does not want to seem to listen and it will berrate me for not running a full five miles on Tuesday like I should have. I feel like I'm taking crazy pills!

So, anyway, in an attempt to make me feel better my hilarious husband sent me this note. He always has a way to make me laugh. (Just a note, this will make TONS more sense if you watch "The Rachel Zoe Project" on Bravo.

Live in the now, man.

Things are good, stay positive. Just think you could be Rachel Zoe and it could RAIN on the carpet! Doesn't get worse than that. BANANAS.

By the way, I want to get styled with rings, wristbands, bedazzled jeans, Italian loafers, v-necks and watch football with her husband. We can split a beer, two straws. Sounds phenonmally amazing.

Checkin' it twice ...

2010-08-13T12:03:00.003-05:00

For all of you anxiously following my progress on my "32 Before 32" I thought I would do a little housekeeping and update you on the happenings. There has been some progress, although a few of the things on my list that were supposed to be ongoing, have taken a very bad turn for the worst. AKA, they ain't gettin' done. However, I am justifying this by keeping track of things that are getting accomplished that ARE NOT on my list. Such as:

* Wrangling and ridding of the giant raccoon that resides in our backyard (TBA- We are just in the planning stages right now.)
* Attending a Wiggles concert (this one is still in the future, but if this is not on EVERYONE's list than you are just not living.)
* Donating blood. I am particularly proud of this. I am sure for some people (especially those of my friends that donate their organs) this is not a big deal, but I happen to think very fondly of my blood and last time subconsciously willed it from being removed of my body.

I know. All of the above are crazy exciting. But, let's move on to those I can cross off.

22. Take the Boys to an Indians game.
This one was not only successful, but we also managed to score suite tickets! So, Abe was able to eat his fruit plate on the veranda, while Sam could run around the small room and torment the other babies that were there. It was about 90 degrees outside and we ended up leaving the game 2 hours past Sam's bedtime. However, it still ended up being a positive Drlich Family Experience. I know! Amazing!

17. Get the storage space organized.
I don't even remember putting this on the list, and I am not even sure what I meant when I said "storage space" but last weekend we cleaned every single closet in our house. Grandma took the boys and Jake and I went to town. Some casulties were the life-sized cardboard cutout of KISS, the boys' bouncey car, and around 100 plastic spoons that were just nilly willy spread throughout the midget room. RIP.

3. Landscape our yard and deck.
I may be stretching it on this one, but we really did some nice updates to our deck. After this year, I have sort of thrown in the towel with the backyard. In June the grass was green and luscious. We could have Von Trap family-ed all over that crap. Now, it is a barren wasteland similar to the "Prairie" exhibit at the zoo. There is just nothing we can do besides cutting down som more trees, and I am sort of hesitant about that. Oh well. Our deck is purty. (I will add a photo soon.)

Pow pow power wheels!

2010-08-03T19:12:00.003-05:00

There are a lot of reasons this is funny, but here is why I think it is funny:

* Sam is wearing his pjs
* Abe manhandles that Jeep
* I snort at the end of the video.

Sam 15 months

2010-08-03T19:08:00.001-05:00

Month Fifteen

2010-08-02T11:45:00.005-05:00

Dear Sam,

It has been a busy month. You have been to a lot of new places, and eaten a lot of new things (dog poop, anyone!?) You are talking more and more, and turning into a big boy a little too fast for me.

I am not going to go through the list of words that you can say, but I will tell you the words that crack me up. “Grover” is one of them. It was so random and surprising, that I almost didn’t catch it. You also like to say “Done” a lot – but, it is the manner in which you say it after you are done eating that is unique only to you (I am sure). When you are done eating you act as though your body is on fire and if we do not get you out of the chair one second after “done” has been uttered from your lips you start the screaming, head banging, and food throwing. I have no idea why this is. So, when you first say “done” it is more like, “Done! Done! Done! Done!” In a panicky-like way.

This month we went to the Outer Banks. Your first vacation, and the first time in the car for more than six hours. I was so nervous about how you would be on the trip. Actually, I was so nervous about how you were going to affect your Daddy driving the vehicle that his family was in on the trip. But, you surprised me big time and made it through, with only minimal melt downs. And to be honest, I wanted to melt down after being in the car that long. There was one incident at a rest stop where I took away a wrapper on the ground that you had clenched in your fist, and you were so mad at me you knelt down on the ground and hit your head. Yes, you hit your head. On. The. Ground. Dude, WTF?

But, we made it safely to our first destination, and fully out of any schedule that was previously bestowed on you. Dinner at a restaurant at 8 p.m. (an hour past your bedtime) after our first day of driving (12 hours) was a treat, and I am pretty sure scared everyone at the potential of sharing a beach house with Baby Sam.

I think when we take you out of your element (house) and schedule (sleeping, eating, dog hitting) that you tend to sort of act crazy. I think once we missed your bedtime on the first night, you sort of took it as an invitation to stay up as late as possible on all of the other nights, and cry hysterically if we tried to lay you into bed. (This while your brother is peacefully watching his Wiggles on a DVD player in a bed next to you. Rolling his eyes, I am sure.)

The house we were in had about 2,359 steps, and lots of fun things like fireplaces and glass tables. You took full advantage of those, and lucky for me, I got some killer quads from carrying you up and down, up and down.

But, there were some pretty awesome moments when you decided that you LOVED the ocean and you wanted to be in it at all times. The water was up to your neck but you would keep coming back for more. You would take naps at the beach, and just curl up in my arms, wrapped in a towel. This made me very happy.

You woke up pretty early, and one morning we were up before the sunrise. At first I was really upset because, dude, Mama was tired, but then I thought. Hey! We are at the ocean! Let’s go make some photo magic. So, I took you along in your jammies. We were the only people on the beach. This made me very happy, too.

You keep me on my toes, and wear me out, but I love you so so much. I love how you carry around a ball and bat with you everywhere you go. I love how you laugh SO HARD when you find things funny. I love when you fall asleep in my arms and give me kisses.

You’re a good boy Samson David Drlich. And, I am happy to chase you wherever you go.

Love,
Mama

Just Another Wiggly Day

2010-07-30T13:33:00.003-05:00

So, this moment needs to be filed under the "never in a million years did I ever imagine that this is what I would be doing" category.

Last night as I was putting Abe to bed, I had my iPhone in my hand(the whole iPhone thing is a story unto itself, which I won't even dive into right now). Instead of a story he wanted to see some Wiggle photos, so I googled "photos of Greg Wiggle" and it brought me to a YouTube video of a photo tribute to Greg Page (aka Wiggle).

So, there we were, laying in his bed (with train sheets), huddled around a tiny iPhone screen, watching photos of a man wearing a yellow shirt flash by, with Sarah McLachlan's "I Will Remember You" playing in the background.

Shel Silverstein couldn't make up that crap if he tried.

(Here's the video if you care to watch).

Busy busy busy

2010-07-27T07:43:00.004-05:00

Sorry, I haven't posted. Because I am lazy, this one will be full of photos, even photos that I did not take. Thanks to Ryan Smith and Aunt JoLynn ... enjoy!

At the Outer Banks. (photo by Aunt JoLynn).

At the Smith Manor, Sanna and Riley's 2nd Birthday. (photo by Ryan Smith).

Month Fourteen

2010-07-01T13:49:00.003-05:00

Dear Blonde Baby Sam,

Hey. How’s it going? Yeah, so this is late again. And, I have no good excuse except for the fact that I am procrastinating writing this. I am not sure why. Rest assured, it has nothing to do with the amount of love I have for you. Because I gots lots of love for you. I think it is because I am sort of bored with the format we have here. It feels a little stale. However, I know it is important for posterity purposes.

So, let’s get some stuff out of the way and just list off things that I will want to remember.

Words: dog dog, mama, dada, shoe, go, kaka (my personal favorite), no, fish, uh oh, Elmo, and I think that’s it. You try to say everything, and I actually think you have your own secret language going on.

Notable actions: climbing everything – chairs, tables, couches, stools, ottomans, everything. “swimming” – putting your face in the water, throwing your head back in the bathtub (WTF by the way), kicking your legs, attempting to jump in the pool like your brother. Playing with balls – you LOVE kicking, throwing, rolling balls. Your Daddy bought you a mini soccer ball at the store and you slept with it like a teddy bear.

As much as you love your brother, you are pretty independent too, and want to just do your own thing. One time while you were both playing in your pool, you just climbed out and walked over to the garage and started to point at the bubbles. You know, you were just done with that and ready to move along. You don’t really stop moving, and your love to walk from thing to thing, opening doors, picking up objects, pulling anything that is swinging, looking into things. There is not much time to relax when you are around.

I think my favorite thing about you right now is that you know when you are being naughty and when I try to chase you down, you make a noise sort of like a lower pitched, raspy laugh, “Heh heh heh heh heh!” It makes me laugh too. Oh, and you put yourself in Timeout. That is pretty funny. It makes me sweat slightly to think about how mischievious you will be in a few years.

In about a week we are going on vacation the Outer Banks. It will be your first time to the beach, as well as the first time in a car for 12 hours straight. I am not looking forward to the latter. In fact, I am straight dreading it. We are going to have lots of things in the car to distract you, but the bottom line is that when you don’t want to be somewhere or doing something, you really tell us about it. And by telling us about it, I mean you scream. Loudly. For a long time. Even Abe gets annoyed by this.

A couple of days ago you had a really high fever for a few days (104.9 dude). (An urgent care visit, doctor visit, and some antibiotics later we found out it was Roseola.) I was very, very scared and worried because you were so hot and lethargic. And, then I just felt so bad that you are sick. I mean, you need to catch a break soon dude! But, even though that whole experience sucked and you were pretty much attached to my torso three days, there was a one moment when I was rocking you to sleep -- You were all snuggled up on my shoulder, your little duppah sitting on my arm – that I felt such an overwhelming amount of love for you. I felt as though my heart was literally going to explode (yes, literally Robby). Even though you were sick and I was very tired and stressed, at that moment I was so happy to be a mom, so happy that you were here, in my arms, wearing striped pjs, drooling a little on my arm. I love it all, and I love all of you – sick, blonde, and all.

Love,
Mama

Toy Story 3

2010-06-23T12:27:00.001-05:00

Last Sunday, Jake and I decided to take Abe to see Toy Story 3. I am not sure if I have been able to clearly communicate on this blog how much Abe loves the Toy Story franchise. Let me just put it simply – the kid is OBSESSED with Toy Story. We have almost all of the Toy Story character toys and many multiples sets including – three big Woody’s, three tiny Woody’s, and multiple mid-sized Woody’s. The same goes for Buzz’s. He has Toy Story undies, t-shirts, socks, and pjs. He has Toy Story fruit snacks, cereal, and most recently apples. (Yes, the apple people are whoring themselves out too.)

Needless to say, we have been waiting for this day to come for a very, very long time. And, I think Jake and I were just a tad more excited than Abe. Especially since Abe wasn’t really sure what to expect besides a room with “a really big TV, and lots of popcorn.”

So, we arranged to have someone watch Sam and off we went to the movie theater. Abe, of course, had to bring along Woody (big Woody, but not talking Woody, because “he is too loud”). As we were walking up to the theater, one of Abe’s hand was holding mine, the other, was clutching on tightly to Woody. It was pretty freaking cute.

In line, an older couple was in front of us and saw Abe holding Woody. “Aww, isn’t that cute,” the lady said. “Have you seen the other Toy Story movies?” I about choked on my spit, but managed to get out, “Oh yes, he has seen them a few times.” What I was thinking: “Hey lady! How about he is has seen the movies about three times THIS MORNING! Bwaahhhahahahahahaha!” But, they were nice people so I didn’t get all Toy Story nerd-tastic on her.

Jake stopped off to get some popcorn, and Abe and I headed to the theater. Of course along the way, pretty much everyone commented on the Woody – (to be honest, I was sort of surprised that he was the only one that had one.) We found a seat, and sat down. Jake made it back with the popcorn, and Abe immediately grabbed the bag, and wedged it next to him, his arm wrapped around it in a death grip. Every time I took a handful he would whisper loudly, “MAMA! That is E-NOUGH!” I mean, dude, back off with the popcorn. (Don’t worry, I finally told him that we could get more, and he stopped being so stingy.)

The movie started and Jake and I kept watching Abe for any reactions. He was pretty motionless the whole time – I really don’t think he took his eyes off the screen for a second. Every once in awhile I would hear a little chuckle at a funny part. But the kid had no comments, no potty breaks, nothing.

My experience on the other hand was filled with tears. Lots and lots of tears. I don’t want to ruin the movie for anyone (SPOILER ALERT) but a large part of it is about Andy (the main human character and the owner of all the toys) growing up. There is a montage at the beginning showing Andy as a little boy playing with all of his toys through the years. It was pretty much watching Abe’s life flash before my eyes. I mean, the kid was sitting next to me in a movie theater with Woody on his lap.

So, afterwards, Jake and I were sort of waiting for a reaction from Abe. Aside from the crying, the movie was really good. But, true to Abe-fashion, he wasn’t really chatty about it. He usually has to take something in first, before he reacts. We figured the next day he would get excited about it. But, that night he took Buzz to bed with him, and the next morning he woke up, holding on to Buzz still, and went straight downstairs to play with his Toy Story toys.

Overall, a very positive experience. It is one that I will never, ever forget. And, also, only the first of many times viewing Toy Story 3.

We're gonna swim, swim like a fish!

2010-06-17T11:53:00.005-05:00

Yesterday marked Abe's final day of swim lessons. He had six lessons in total, spanning over two weeks. It was more of an "Intro to Water" class, which was good, because we were a little worried that he was going to dip one toe into the cold water and say, "No thank you!" But, he surprised us all, and went all by himself with his group, sat on the edge of the pool quietly, and eagerly raised his hand to be picked to go next. By the end, he had gone underwater, floated on his back with a noodle, jumped in by himself, and gone down a big twisty slide by himself.

On the second-to-last day I went with Jake, Abe, and Sam to watch him in action with my own eyes. This is Abe before the lesson:

This is Sam during the lesson (also the only 20 seconds that Sam was sitting down):

This is Abe during the lesson. The parents have to sit on the other side of the pool, so I couldn't really get a good shot. He is about to jump in.

The day that I went, Abe was so excited. He was talking a mile a minute on the way in the car. (Jake says he does this every day). "Hey Mama, are you going to watch me today? Are you going to work later? Do you want to eat lunch with me? Do you see that water fountain? Isn't it beautiful?"

When it was time for him to walk over with his group, he was the first one in line, marching proudly. He sat down on the side of the pool with a hop, and he raised his hand to go first. After his turn floating, he looked over at us and gave us a double thumbs up, followed by the Wiggles pointy-finger thing (sorry that is the best I can explain it). Jake was off chasing Sam doing who knows what, and there were other mothers all around me chatting with each other or tending to their children (who, by the way, were strapped into their strollers and loving it, unlike my hyper hypo child). I was watching Abe's every move and I felt SO FREAKING PROUD OF HIM. Then the tears started to well up in my eyes, and I tried so hard to fight them, because HELLO? I am watching my kid jump into a freaking pool, he's not winning the Nobel Peace Prize or something. But, I don't care. I am proud of him.

Put a mark in the "Pros" coloumn of being a parent.

A List

2010-06-11T14:28:00.004-05:00

I have decided to make a list. This plan makes me very excited, because there is really nothing I love more than to make a list. Well, maybe crossing something off that list. So, inspired by my upcoming birthday (Holy hell I am getting freaking old - I would also like to take this opportunity to give a big F-U to my gray hairs) I thought I would do a "32 Before 32" list. I am totally ripping off this idea from the internet, but I don't really care. You can all suck it.

So, here it is. A few notes:

* I have already accomplished some of these things. Mostly because I am super efficient and awesome.
* Some of these things happen on a recurring basis, so I will have to do them more than once.
* I hope to document as much as I can, mostly because it will help with the motivation of some of these things.

32 Before 32

1. ~~Take Abe to his first movie~~
2. ~~Finish Abe’s poster project~~
3. Landscape our yard and deck
4. Cook one new meal a month *
5. The frame project
6. Plan a vacation for Jake and I
7. Take Abe somewhere special by himself
8. Visit California with Jake
9. Go to Texas
10. Date Night once a month *
11. Plan a trip with Laurin and Bermes
12. Host a fancy schmancy dinner party
13. Redo 1 room in our house
14. (secret project)
15. Get new luggage
16. Go to Recess
17. Get the storage space organized
18. No TV for a week
19. Read a classic
20. Be vegetarian for a month
21. Visit the IMA
22. Take the boys to an Indians game
23. Take the boys to the State Fair
24. ~~Join a gym~~
25. Make Halloween costumes (or a portion of it)
26. Go to Keystone Arts Cinema
27. Have a martini at Nicky Blaine’s
28. Submit a piece of writing to something
29. Blog at least three times per week *
30. Look into going back to school
31. Take a risk
32. Run a mini marathon that is not the “Mini marathon”

On Urban Outfitters

2010-06-10T13:59:00.003-05:00

Him: You got a package today from Urban Outfitters. What are you, Nicholas Cage or something?

Me: What? What the heck does that mean?

Him: That’s where he shops in the movie, “National Treasure.”

{Wild laughing ensues.}

Him: What’s so funny?

Me: That is so random.

Him: No it’s not. I think about that movie everyday.

I know him!

2010-06-10T08:34:00.004-05:00

Since this is the "MOD", I thought I would share with you the following photo:

This is from last year's Dave Matthew's concert (courtesy of www.davematthewsband.com). If you look very closely in the lower right hand portion, you will see a guy in a bright green tshirt and a blue bandana. That is our friend and neighbor Brandon. Jake and I were five feet away from him. That is BANANAS! (That's right, I said bananas).

Is it a sign? Does this mean that it is in the stars for me to ~~make out~~ meet him? Maybe. I will keep you updated.

This day in Drlich history ...

2010-06-08T07:53:00.003-05:00

Since I am enjoying a spike in my readership (most likely due to the fact that I am posting more frequently, and by no means related to the quality of the posts) I thought I would try to post more often. It is the summertime, afterall, and that means that I am more relaxed because I don't have the crazy morning chaos with the boys.

So, I was looking through the archives of this blog, and saw that five years ago today, I posted this.

Reading that post brings me back to simpler times, when we could actually go to the bathroom uninterrupted,and eat dinner without having some sort of food thrown on us. Ahhh, the good old days.

SuperFan

2010-06-04T13:37:00.002-05:00

Because it is the "Month of Dave" (which I have self-declared), I have been thinking a lot about what it would be like to meet someone famous. Or, more than famous, someone that you really admire -- that you are a fan of.

I have never met anyone that I have been a fan of, let alone someone that is famous. Okay, I take that back -- I met Stuart Scott on my 21st birthday at the Slippery Noodle. I walked right up to him and told him it was birthday. He bought me a drink after looking at my ID. The guy I was with (who shall remain nameless) said, "What's it like to work with Dan Patrick, REALLY?" Yeah, I know.

But, while it was sort of thrilling, and kinda a good story to tell, it was nothing spectacular.

So, back to my M.O.D. thing. Every year around this time I start daydreaming about what it would be like to meet him. Okay, I mean, what it would be like to invite him over to our house so he can hang out on our deck. Alright, I mean, (let's be honest) what it would be like to make out with him. But even as I type that it sounds so ridiculous. Who cares! He is just a person like you and me, right??

But, no, my irrational head does not work that way. It would be really super cool to meet him.

So, my questions to you (the 25 readers of this blog) are this:

Have you ever met anyone famous?
What was it like?
Have you ever written anyone a fan letter?
Did they respond, genuinely, and not just with a mass produced letter and autograph?

I am sincerely interested in learning about this.

Thank you, and good day.

Who's Ready for Summer?

2010-06-03T20:40:00.002-05:00

Month Thirteen and Month Forty-Five

2010-06-03T13:37:00.004-05:00

Dear Sam and Abe,

Welcome to another edition of, "Your Mom Sucks and Has Tried to Save Time By Writing One Blog for Both of You" aka, "Life Just Isn't Fair, Part XXXV" aka, "This is Not Called Half-Assing, I Promise." In any case, the last month has kicked my ass and made me its bitch. Is that too vulgar for you two? Well, hopefully, you won't be reading this until you have seen the "Goonies," so this language will be perfectly acceptable by that time, perhaps even used in dinner conversation.

Anyways, May was tough. Sam, you were sick. Not deathly ill or anything, just sick with colds, snot, and ear infections, which I am sure are painful. And, you sure let us know it was painful. This month the introduction to baby Sam's diva attitude or should I call it, Sam-Fierce, has showed some superstar potential. You like to show us your "emotion" by throwing your head back, and rolling around the floor while screaming. Sometimes you arch your back for extra effect, and throw your legs up in the air or on something. I am sure that for a few of these instances, you were in pain, but I think for most of these instances, you just did not get your way. DRAMAAAAAAA!!!

But, I do not want to paint a crazy picture of you, because while you have a bit of a temper, you are also very snugly. You would let me snuggle with you all day long, and love to give me hugs. You love stuffed animals, and walk around while hugging them intermittently.

And, I must say, you are mostly pretty happy. Smiling is your favorite (just like Buddy the Elf!) You are starting to talk more now, and you seem to know exactly what is going on, even if you can't say it. You love Elmo and say, "Mellllll-MooooooooooE!" whenever you see him. You can open doors, and walk over to the pantry and point to the food you want to eat. You also try to go outside any chance you get, "OUT! OUT!" You know your head, hair, nose, eyes, and ears. You are still super busy and will not stop moving unless it is to watch the Wiggles, who you love (DUH. Is it just in the Drlich genes or something?) You love music and your body becomes a slave to the beat.

One morning while I was driving both of you to school, there was some crazy song on the radio, that I thought I would turn up and start jamming to. When I turned around, I saw Sam's one little arm up in the air, "Beatin' up the beat," with a stone-cold, serious face. Then, I look at Abe and he is staring out the window with his blankey shoved halfway down his throat, probably thinking that his life sucks,and how he will go write a song about it when he gets to school.

Which brings me to my sweet Abe. You never really went through the Terrible Twos, but man, the Terrible Three-and-a-Halfs! Those are something. You aren't bad, but you are definitely testing your limits. And now, you are a smart little guy, so you know how to work it. Let's just say, the frequency of Time Outs have increased exponentially.

But, let's get to the good stuff, because there is lots of it. You are sweet. You are smart. You are freaking HILARIOUS. You are a verbal assassin. The way you articulate things, and use inflection while talking is such, that I wish I could take recordings with you everywhere I go and show people. You are that funny.

You have started calling Sam, "Sammy." All on your own. It makes me giggle every time I hear it. We never planned to call Sam, Sammy, but you know, if that's what you want to call him, who are we to say no? Generally, you are pretty good with him, and you share your stuff pretty well. Actually, more so than I thought you would. You do like it when he is around, and I am finding that when he isn't, you sense something is missing. I don't quite know how to explain it, but you two complement each other well, and to get sappy on you, it has been one of my greatest joys as a parent -- to watch brothers interact. The way you make each other laugh, the way you don't mind when Sam is standing too close.

But I digress. You are thoughtful. Today you wanted to be sure to pick up special treats for all of your friends on the last day of school. You reminded me twice. You love giving gifts, and coloring pictures especially for me.

I guess I could go on for days about how you both are so much alike, and so different. You both love books, sprinklers, dogs, and french fries. Sam loves rap, Abe loves classic rock. And while this parenting thing is tough, and there are times that I don't think another thing could go wrong, and our house looks like someone has ransacked it, and there is at least one character from Toy Story in every room -- there will be something that happens that makes it all worth it. You boys rock my world.

Love,
Mama

Sam, Woody, and Abe

2010-05-18T18:41:00.002-05:00

My Awe and Wonder

2010-05-14T11:40:00.005-05:00

I was watching Oprah the other day (I am sure it is no surprise that I DVR Oprah daily), and she was yet again talking about weight loss. I am always intrigued by this, because usually she is touting "the thing that changed my life" or "why I will never diet again." Well, this time she was talking about a book called, "Women, Food, and God."

To be quite honest, I wasn't really following what was going on. I was curious to see how God tied into all of this (I mean, it is easy to see how he is - because you know, he is connected to everything), but I was interested to see how God could help me lose weight. Would I just pray for it? Would he escort me to Weight Watchers meetings?

But, early on in the interview with the author, Oprah clarified what the "God" part meant. I found it to be interesting. The author said it is not God in a religious sense, but somethign that she calls the source. She said:

"We each have this longing — we've had moments of awe and wonder in our lives. A lot of us don't call that God, but we know that something is possible for every one of us besides our daily lives, the daily grind. The way we get caught with errands and emails and taking care of other people. We feel that this possibility exists. I'm talking about wonder and mystery and possibility ... The feeling that everything is possible."

For some reason that thought really stuck with me. (I know you guys, bear with me here. This is a special "deep" edition of Bri's blog). I started to think about all of the times in my life I have experienced awe and wonder, or that feeling. You know, the feeling that you can't quite describe or explain, but you know that God is involved in some way.

The author referenced what a mother feels the moment her baby is born. And you know, it was an amazing moment, but what I was feeling was a million different things -- exhaustion, relief, happiness, pain, fear. Is that horrible to admit? I mean, the miracle of pregnancy and birth and the absolute love I feel for my children are not lost on me, but that exact moment was not precisely when I felt those things.

Anyways, ever since watching the show I have been trying to recollect all of my moments of awe and wonder. Almost frantically. I keep wondering if maybe I don't have those moments? Have I not noticed them?

Today, I had to take Sam to the ENT to get his ears checked. I picked him up from school and brought him back in right before lunchtime. Before I left to go back to work, I wanted to say hi to Abe. I always enjoy seeing them in the school environment.

"Hi Abe!" I said.
"Hey Mama! I am ready to go home now," he said.
"Sorry Buddy. I have to go back to work. Daddy will pick you up today after your nap." He gave me a look and sort of shrugged his shoulders. I asked him for a hug, but he said he would give me one later. I could tell he was a little upset.

It was "show and tell" day (his favorite day of the week). Today he had brought in the top of a special Wiggles cup that was in the shape of the Big Red Car with all four of the Wiggles in it. (I know, so random). I knew that on "Show and Tell" day they could bring in toys, but I never realized that they actually show and tell.

As I was walking out of the building, I stopped to chat with one of the teachers. Right before I walked out the door, I turned to look back at Abe's room.

All of the kids were sitting in a circle and there was Abe, making his presentation of the Wiggle's Big Red Car Cup Topper. I couldn't really hear everything he was saying, but he was standing there so sure of himself, captivating the kids' attentions, motioning with his hands the tiny features of the car. His teacher asked him a question and he said, "Nope that's all." At the moment we locked eyes and I smiled and walked out.

It all hit me like a ton of bricks. My little boy was not little anymore. He was smart, he was kind, he was confident. I felt so proud of him. I felt so amazed in what he has become. I felt so relieved that he had made it this far. I felt so much love. I felt awe and wonder.

It all makes sense now.

Is this my future?

2010-05-07T12:15:00.003-05:00

I saw this video a few years ago, but takes on a whole new meaning to me now that I have two boys. It would make me so proud if Abe and Sam came up with this.

Happy Mother's Day to all of the wonderful mothers I know!
(Especially my beautiful, hilarious mom, Jillsy).

Par-tay!

2010-05-04T11:19:00.003-05:00

Thanks to Ryan Smith over at (Verbal Diarrhea), we have some beautiful photos of Sam's party to share. I was a little preoccupied with running around like a madwoman. This also contributed to my 8:15 bedtime that night. I am such a party animal.

I had to put this one of Abe in there, just to show how much fun he had. (Well, he really did have a lot of fun, but the kid can be a little emotional at times. Notice the Iron Man mask in his hands. Just one of many presents for him on Sam's birthday).

And just one more of the birthday boy looking superfly in his outfit.

Month Twelve

2010-04-29T14:18:00.002-05:00

Dear Sam,

Happy Birthday! You are finally one. Actually, this year flew by so fast, I can’t believe it. I can’t believe that you are a walking, laughing, pointing, toddler now. More importantly, I have survived this year, and you are still thriving! And, I am still showering. See, it works out for both of us.

You are such a happy boy, and such a joy to be around. You make everyone smile. You make me want to kiss your cheeks every chance I get. Your cheeks are so kissable.

You have definitely changed a lot in just the last two weeks. You went from not eating very many solid foods, to eating hummus, quinoa, and fish sticks all at once. I am not sure what happened there. I think you just realized that you had to maintain that weight somehow, so bring on the food. I also like to think that you have a very refined palate – I mean, you ate garlic hummus! Abe wouldn’t touch that stuff with his Buzz Lightyear gloves! I have decided that you will be our chef, and I will watch you compete on “Top Chef.”

You have started talking more and communicating in general. You love stuffed animals and as soon as you pick them up, you tilt your head to give it a snuggle. You love to point to lions and roar. You have also started saying “uh oh,” which usually happens after you launch your cups, spoons, bowls off of the high chair.

We have started to wean you from bottles, but the other day you were having a rough time. So you threw yourself down on the kitchen floor and started saying “Baba! Baba! Baba!” Like, “Please, lady! Give me the freakin Baba! I can’t handle this withdrawal!” Your brother Abe then replied, “Baba is a girl, not a bottle.” Such a know-it-all, that one.

You have started to become more possessive of me, which I secretly love. When I drop you off at school, one of the little girls always comes over and wants me to pick her up. You do not like that one bit and you push her out of the way. It wouldn’t be so bad if you weren’t twice her width and a few inches taller. You are like a little gentle giant, not knowing your freakish strength.

I know I have said it before, but I am so lucky to have you. Just yesterday I was thinking about how much our lives have changed. First it was just me and your Daddy. Then along came Abe. Then along came you. We are a family. And, it is a more beautiful family than I could have ever imagined. Thank you for a great year, and here’s to many, many more to come.

Happy Birthday with all my love.

Mama

Month 1,008

2010-04-21T16:02:00.004-05:00

(Editor's Note: Tomorrow is my Grandma, my cousin Cassie, and Sam's birthday. Today, is a special editon of the "Abe and Sam" letters for my Grandma.)

Dear Grandma,
Happy 84th Birthday. Today, in honor of your 1,008th month, I thought I would dedicate a monthly newsletter to you, my Gaga Woof Woof. How many people my age can say that their Grandma is still kicking it, and surfing the internet? I am sure not many. I am very lucky to have you in my life, and my children are very lucky to have their Great-Grandma – especially because you have single-handedly built their DVD library in three years time.

For most of my life I took the fact that I had a Grandma for granted, and the fact that my Grandma was all of the things a Grandma was supposed to be – loving, spoiling, good-smelling, chocolate-giving. But, it wasn’t until I had my kids that I realized and truly appreciated how lucky I was to have a Grandma that was all of those things, and how important a grandma is to their children.

My earliest memories are all positive ones. Going to Youngstown for me was my childhood “happy place.” If I could create a spa, I would model it after your home. It would be complete with pretzels under the “dry sink,” tiny little golf pencils, and a cushiony toilet seat. I would also make all of the showers’ temperature gauges go the opposite way – hot means cold, cold means hot – just for fun. Your pillow smelled like your house. It almost seemed like time would stop, and I would be so relaxed and comfortable. I would serve Cocoa Puffs and fresh rye bread with Tater Skin chips on the side.

I remember when I was a little girl, you used to lay with me in bed until I fell asleep. I always loved that.

I loved watching TV in your bedroom. I loved the way the sunlight came into your family room. I loved the expanse of your big yard, and playing wiffle ball with Robby, Samantha, and Adam. I loved the bar of Dove soap you kept by the sink in the bathroom. I buy Dove soap to this day because of it.

I remember crying when we had to leave. As a child, I wouldn’t hold back the emotions. It was all too much to take. I loved my family and my grandma. To be honest, every time I have to leave, I still get teary eyed. I hate saying goodbye.

I remember your white and pink t-shirt nightgown that had some sort of cartoon drawing on it (I can’t remember if it had bunnies or dogs or that crazy old woman from the Hallmark cards). Do you remember it? You probably haven’t seen it since about 1995. That is because I took it. You left it at our house after a visit. I remember seeing it on the floor, and I grabbed it, and put it in my drawer. It was sort of a silly thing to do, and I have never told anyone about it (Hi, Internet!) but for some reason I found that nightgown very comforting to me, and I decided right then and there that that is what I want to remember you by.

Now that I have children I have such a fuller appreciation of having a grandma and being a grandma. And, I feel so lucky that I have had you as a Grandma. As far as I am concerned, I have hit the Grandma Jackpot. I love you very much, and I thank you for everything you have done for me. I am sorry that I stole your nightgown, and I am also sorry that you aren’t going to get it back. I hope my boys will want to steal something from their grandmas, and I can’t wait to see what it is.

Happy Birthday.

Love,
Brianne

Month Eleven

2010-04-08T09:26:00.004-05:00

Dear Sam,

Better late than never, right? Because of my horrible tardiness, this is going to be short and sweet – maybe with some bulleted lists thrown in, because that is how I roll.

So, 11 months. This is what you do now:

* Walk. Everywhere.
* You say dog-dog, Mama, Dada, dat (that), hat, and possibly cat, but I am not sure. Dog-dog is your favorite word by far. I cannot even give your inflection justice in written word, but trust me, it is good.
* Fight the sleep with extreme silliness. You think you are HILARIOUS when it is time to go to bed.
* Wave bye bye. It is the cutest, most precious-est thing ever.
* You like to wear things around your neck. Dog leashes, cords, Mr. Potato Head glasses. You try to drape it all around your neck. I am not sure why, it is all very odd.
* Laugh at your brother. He is the only person that can make you laugh super hard. And this makes me very happy.

I also want to be sure to note that your personality is really coming through. You have quite a good sense of humor, and I find that in the moments that I am the most frustrated with you, you do something completely hilarious and I have to laugh. Taking you to Church was something that we were a little weary about. But, on Easter Sunday you really surprised us all. Oh sure, we had to take you out and let you run around, but for the most part you just pointed at things and said, “Dat? Dat?”; threw your head back to check out the artwork on the ceilings; and bumped along to all of the Easter hymns. There was also a point when you thought it was hilarious to grab my lips and smack my face, but we won’t talk about that.

You are tough. You are sweet. You are funny. Overall, I like you very much, and have decided that you can stay with us.

(I promise to write more later for your big birthday month.)

Love,
Mama

Blogging for five years

2010-03-09T11:15:00.002-05:00

The thought just ocurred to me over the weekend that I was pretty close to my five year blogging anniversary, and then I checked, and looks like five years ago yesterday I posted my first blog.

Five years ago feels like a really long time ago. I was 25 years old. So very young. So much thinner. So much more hair and less stretch marks.

And, oh my God, there is this post where I relay all of my feelings of not wanting to have a baby. Reading that post is like a self-fulfilling prophecy. I wonder if I would have never mentioned stretch marks, if I would not have gotten them. Hmmmmmmmm.

So, I guess, here's to five more years, zero more babies, and lots more funny stories. Thanks to all of you that read this. I appreciate it, even if you do think I am stupid, or silly, or annoying. Just don't say that in the comments because it will hurt my feelings. But, then I will just blog about it.

Month 10 and Month 42 (3 and a half)

2010-03-04T16:17:00.004-05:00

Dear Sam and Abe,

I know, I am a horrible mother for smooshing this into one. But, since it is effecting both of your negatively, it cancels each other out. Great Mommy Logic. Plus, I have been feeling a little self-conscious lately about talking you guys up too much. If you knew how much I talk about you guys to people, you would understand. I am trying to limit myself a little, and even though these letters are different, it is part of the penance.

So, let’s start with Sam first. Well, I can say that currently we are treating your fourth ear infection in a row and your poop is red! Isn’t that cool? I think that is something to share with your friends. I am hoping that this round of antibiotics will kick those ears into shape, and we won't have to deal with it anymore (the antibiotics are what make the poop red for those of you who are freaked out). I have learned that while you aren’t fussy while you are sick, you have a very short temper. Taking something away from you sounds the same as if you had fallen down 3 flights of stairs and landed in a garden of thumbtacks. It is that bad. But, it is pretty easy to get a good chuckle out of you ten seconds after you flip out.

You have taken multiple steps, but I wouldn’t say you are walking. That is quite alright with me, because we have plenty of time to chase you (probably about 17 years), so I can wait a few more months. Your adventuresome personality is still quite intact and you try to make a “run” for the stairs any chance you get. You have started pointing and trying to talk. Constantly making noises and pointing at things. It is pretty darn cute. I also consider your first word to be “Ooooooooohhh” and “Oooooooooooooooo.” Those are words, right? You also say “dada” constantly. Whatever.

Your dance skills are off the chizarts. You bump that booty any chance you get -- even to “Handy Manny’s” theme song. I am sensing that Abe is getting a bit jealous of the attention we have been giving your dancing. It’s like a real life “Billy Elliot the Sequel” in our house. Two brothers fighting for their parents attention in the hard knock world of dance. JAZZ HANDS!

We are slowly but surely giving you more solid foods to eat, but it has been hard because you have a wicked sensitive gag reflex. And, lately, you have stopped liking to eat baby food. You just straight up spit that out in our face. Not cool. But, we are getting there with the food. Hopefully soon you will downing dozens of pancakes at a time, and you and Abe can travel the world as a pancake eating freak show.

Moving onto Abe – well, you continue to make us laugh – intentionally and unintentionally. This is a very good age for conversations, especially as you are learning to master the English language. I love how you pick up words and then try to incorporate them into sentences. Because of this, I am convinced you are going to be a writer. Although, when I asked you what you wanted to be when you grow up, just to see, you said, “Buzz Lightyear.” (note: a few months earlier when they asked you in school, you said a farmer. Just FYI).

Anyways, about the word thing, the other day you were playing with Mr. Potato Head. You, of course, had to replicate his face EXACTLY how it was in “Toy Story.” Your Daddy was being silly and putting ears in the nose holes, mustaches in the ears, etc. You tilted all of the features to the side, and said, “Look! It’s a Patosskah!” And of course, we were all, “A say-whatta??!” But, then we figured it out – you were saying a Picasso! That is from “Toy Story” – you are not some sort of art prodigy. However, a movie prodigy, maybe.

You are currently very interested in learning more about growing up. You are very perceptive about these things in movies (there’s that movie thing again), and you are fascinated with “Daddy’s toys from when he was a boy.” And, oh by the way, Sam is not a boy, he is a baby according to you. And, totally not on the same level as you. Also, you make it very clear that I cannot be Spiderman or the Incredible “Honk”. I have to be Jessie from “Toy Story” or Belle from “Beauty and the Beast” because they are girls. This makes me angry. I want to be Captain America. I am not sure why you are so sexist, but I am chalking it up to a developmental thing and will just get worried if in 10 years you think that girls sports are stupid, and that all girls should be secretaries.

But I digress. You are learning things left and right. You know the days of the week (singing a song to remember the order), how to count (you want FIVE grapes in your bowl), and you can even spell AND write your name. Well, sort of write. But, to me, that is AMAZING. That just doesn’t seem right to me. I mean, just two years ago you were wearing diapers and dancing to the Wiggles and now you can freaking write your name. I just cannot handle this growing up thing.

Having both of you around makes me so incredibly proud, feel so incredibly blessed, and makes me laugh so incredibly hard. I feel like the luckiest person in this entire world to be your Mama. I love both of you so much, and love that both of you are SO DIFFERENT. I see myself in both of you a little, see your daddy in both of you a little, but also know that you are both your own person and I CANNOT wait to watch you grow up. It is happening at a lightning fast pace right before my eyes.

Love,

Captain America

Lots of them in my bowl

2010-02-19T16:00:00.002-05:00

Sorry, it has been awhile. Here are some of the highlights you have missed:

Sickness. Snow days. Ice packs. Haircuts. Laundry. Lots of it. Quinoa.

This weekend I am going to Richmond to spend time with the ladies. So excited to see everyone, especially Keenan who I haven’t seen in what feels like years. I wish I could stretch this trip into a month. I so need a break, and a chance to relax and not worry if I hear a baby cry, or that I need to be getting to bed soon because 5:30comes around fast.

Time is moving by so quickly. And while sometimes it is okay that the winter is zipping along, it makes me a tad bit worried that all of these moments with my kids this little are going away. Yes, it is difficult now, but I don’t think there is anything cuter than a 10 month old baby. I love now that Sam is just trying to talk, but just pointing at things and going “BAH!” like Mr. Peepers. It is precious. I am trying to imagine what he will say and sound like, but I know we will find out soon enough. And then I freak out when I look at Abe and don’t see a baby anymore. He is like a teenager now. Tall and skinny, and smart. I was quizzing him the other night about months. And asked him what month his birthday was in, and he said, “August.” I was so impressed! Then I asked him what month Christmas was and he said, “Santa Clause.” Not quite grasping the month concept yet, but working on it.

For some reason whenever we give Abe snacky, tasty things, it is in a little bowl. So when he really likes something he says, “I want lots of them in my bowl.”

This is what I want in my bowl -- Sam’s hearty laughs, his tiny-fingered points, his enthusiastic grunts, his silly sounds, his funny fish-lipped faces, and Abe’s rambling stories, his train voices, his crazy faces, his grown up phrases … I want lots of them in my bowl.

A Valentine's Message from the Drlich Boys

2010-02-13T15:06:00.002-05:00

Happy Ballantimes Day and Happy Birthday to Ozzie and Ramone!

Month Nine

2010-02-04T12:39:00.005-05:00

Dear $am,

I thought I would try something different with your name this month, in honor of the recording artist Ke$ha. Hey, if she can do it, why can’t I? It also reflects our “all about the benjamins” attitude and penchant for untalented hip hop artists in the Drlich household. Holla!

So, about you and this month. Well, I think you have kicked nine months ass. You are one badass baby, if I say so myself. Your energy level is terrifying, and the energy you omit from your little, chubby body is electric. You are either super duper happy, or super duper pissed. Thank goodness it is mostly happy. I seem to piss you off quite a bit when I stop you from inserting your fingers into the electrical sockets, after, of course you have scraped out the plastic childproofing thingies. Yes, conventional methods of childproofing are no match for you. You laugh in the faces of plastic doo-hickeys.

Your gross motor skills are coming along very quickly. You have already mastered the stairs, although we aren’t dumb enough to let you scale them on your own. Because, with swift advancement of the motor skills also comes a “no fear” policy. You have not a fear in the world. You also can stand on your own, and have attempted to take a step. Most of those attempts are met with a face plant to the ground or a sideswipe of a corner of something. Yay for us.

I think my favorite thing about you right now, is the way you want to be next to Abe all of the time. Whenever Abe is playing with his trains at his train table, you excitedly crawl over, pull yourself up right next to him, and reach for a train. It usually lasts about 30 seconds, because the next thing you do is either smack the train on the table, or rip a piece of track off and pound the train with it. Of course, Abe’s world crashes down around him and he starts screaming, which in turn, makes you scream. And then sometimes, if we are lucky, you both laugh at each other. That is my favorite.

Even though I see that the future between you and me will involve a lot of “NO!!!!” and “DANGER!!!” I am beginning to notice a relationship that is a little different between me and Abe. You are my little party man, and always up for a good time. When Abe and your Daddy need their “alone time” me and you can go rock it out somewhere. I am not sure what that means, but hopefully we will find out.

You wake up every morning at 5:30 a.m. NO MATTER WHAT. I can’t complain though, because you sleep all night long, and a few months ago that was not the case. Usually I just lay in bed for a couple minutes to muster up the motivation to sit up and walk the 30 feet it is to your room. But, when I get there you smile so wide and do little baby jumps in the crib. I can’t complain with that morning greeting, even if it is going to be dark for two more hours. You are like my little sun – and what do you know that is what your name means. Samson means “of the sun” or “radiant and mighty.” I really don’t think I could describe you any better than that.

Love,
Mama

Kevin Bacon called, and wants his moves back.

2010-01-16T09:59:00.002-05:00

I cannot tell you how proud it makes me to see my children enjoying Footloose as much as I do. (Please note: Abe's pjs were not picked out by me.)