Candy-colored carpet

10/26/09.

My mornings are usually a little bit chaos with a dash of crazy, but things really seem to get off to the wrong start when the boys wake me up first. I really need to force myself to get out of bed when I hear Ryan leave for work, but up until recently, my youngest was still waking at least once every night wanting a bottle or a diaper. Camden (almost three years) and Cavan (16 months) wake up between 6:30 and 7:30 every morning. I can hear Cavan in his crib "whoo, whooing" and laughing to himself. He is a morning person, and he can't wait to be set free so he can get at the toys. Camden usually takes longer to come around in the mornings. He always wakes me to tell me he wants warm milk and cartoons, please. He still wakes up in my room in the mornings. Sometime in the middle of every night he darts into our bedroom in a mild panic. He no longer pitter-patters, but runs down the hall from his room to ours. I believe he wakes from bad dreams. This makes my heart heavy, and I always scoop him up and place him between Ryan and me.

Yesterday morning started like most others, and I awakened to the pleasant sound of Cavan laughing in his crib in the room down the hall. I changed his diaper, got his milk, and then sent him off to work destroying my living room. Camden woke and gave him the same service. Later in the morning, after my second cup of coffee, I thought I might be able to sneak off for a shower. The boys were playing peek-a-boo in my clothes closet, a walk-in closet in the master bath. They sounded like they were having fun and not getting in to trouble, so I jumped in the shower. I could still hear them playing close by. I proceeded to shampoo thinking the worst the could do in the closet was pull the clothes off the hanger. Oh foolish mother, haven't you learned anything yet? The closet became quiet; I knew it was a bad omen. I wrapped a towel around me and peeked in the closet. Oh, dear Lord. Oh, no. My closet floor was covered with hundreds of teeny, tiny rainbow-colored sprinkles (the kind used for baking). My boys, bless them, were licking the candied treats right from the carpet, thus moistening the dyes so the all the colors of the rainbow could settle into their new home on the floor of my closet. "How," I wondered, "did they acquire the candied sprinkles?" I shooed them from the closet and headed to the kitchen where I saw a chair pushed up next to the counter. Obviously Cam had spotted the sprinkles and set his mind on obtaining them. From now on, I vowed, I will force myself to get up with Ryan so I can dress and drink a cup of coffee before my children rise. Then I will be ready for more adventures in diaperland. Bring it on, boys!

Rewind Charlotte: Our First House and Baby

Our first home in Charlotte was the house of my dreams: two-story foyer, ceiling-to-floor built-in bookcases, a bright wall of windows in the family room, and a fenced- in back yard filled with so many trees in bloom, that I would never know I had neighbors. I knew when I first saw it that this was where I wanted to raise my children (who were still a distant thought at that time). Little did I know that we would move after only three years in the house. The minute I learned of my pregnancy with Camden, I became so excited picturing my house with a baby. I daydreamed of a magical nursery like the one from Mary Poppins. After nine months off pregnancy and more than sixteen hours of labor, Camden blessed us with his presence November 30th, 2006. He was four days early. The moment I brought him home and snuggled with him next to the fireplace and Christmas tree, I knew that my home and life would never be the same. My house, still largely unfurnished with so much work still to go, all of a sudden felt so cozy and complete when Camden was in the room. It didn't matter to me where we lived, as long as he was safe and sound.

Rewind Charlotte: The Piano and the Apartment

Ryan and I enjoyed the city life for two and a half years before Camden was born. Our first abode in Charlotte was a well-lit apartment with vaulted ceilings, and I felt just at home. I was working on my Master of Music degree when we first moved to Charlotte, and I insisted on having the piano with me. My father, brothers, and Ryan, carried the ridiculously heavy piano up three flights of stairs so I could have a practice room in my apartment. We (they) put the piano in the "solarium" which served as my practice studio. I had a great view from my piano bench. They had back pain for a month. Less than a year later, we bought our first house and it was time to move the piano again this time down three flights of stairs. Probably still feeling the pain from the last move, my dad generously gave me money to hire professionals. I called My Three Sons moving Company. They said they would send two movers. I warned the rep over the phone that she needed to send four. Just like the name promises, they sent three sons (not their sturdiest looking fellows either). They were ready for business with back supports, pulleys, ramps and the kitchen sink. After at least an hour of pushing, pulling, sweating, and I think bleeding, one of the sons said to me, "If you have to move this piano again, do not call My Three Sons Movers!"

Introducing Cavan

Cavan was born on July 1st, 2008. He came four days after his due date, and he was worth every second of the wait. At only 15 months old, he shows more independence than his brother. He has perfected the art of ducking and running and can hold his own with his big brother. He loves to cuddle and gives the yummiest hugs. Camden has found a new playmate in his brother Cavan, and I gush over the moments when they make each other smile.

Introducing Camden

Camden was born on November 30th, 2006. His is now almost 3, and still the center of my universe. I haven't slept since he was born, and I don't miss it at all. He usually creeps into my room every night, and I look forward to the midnight visits. We'll correct that eventually, but for a little while longer, he is still my baby.