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The porcelain god

I started the week with a full night's sleep and a peaceful shower. I know, weird, right? Just as I was about to look in the mirror and yell WHO THE HELL ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY LIFE, Michael called to tell me that Gabriella had been puking all morning, in case I had forgotten who I was all the way down there at the Holiday Inn in Raleigh.

I had planned to fly home that evening but returned that afternoon instead to revive Gabriella from her cartoon coma with a bath and bedtime stories.

So then the next night I received a text message from Michael at work telling me in no uncertain terms that he too had the stomach bug. And I wanted to go, seriously? I know I should be sympathetic, but really? THE BABY COULD BE NEXT!

Let me tell you about the next 24 hours where Michael and Dominic perfected a chorus of vomit in between sips of Gatorade and Pedialyte while Gabriella handed out bandaids and Fisher Price Medical Kit injections. 

So I finally get to Friday with the family intact, and I'm trying not to feel cocky because my immune system, I don't know, kicks a lot of ass, when I wake up in the middle of the night with immobilizing nausea. OH YES I DID. 

I don't think I need to tell you how this story ends.

Mad Skills

He loves to eat paper and Cheerios more than anything else in life. He understands a handful of words but kitty cat is his favorite one.  A ridiculously high-pitched scream. A chronic case of separation anxiety. He cruises through the house like a G.I. who is about to break a world record in the low crawl. And he's finally sleeping through the night.

Philosophy primer

While exchanging Christmas gifts at the mall on Saturday Gabriella suddenly lay down on the ground. Please get up. Why? Because the floor’s dirty. Why? Because people walk on it. Why? Because you’re not Diego and this isn’t the rainforest and we can’t all swing from vines as our major form of transportation. Oh. Why? And it goes on and on like Russian nesting dolls only slightly more adorable. 

Hey batta batta batta

I've written about Dominic's first fantasy football draft, curse of the bambino and seventh-inning stretch. Now the kid's learned to heckle. And I mean, HECKLE. Like a fan drunk on cheap beer, leaning over the rail and calling the ump Mr. Magoo.

Twenty ten

On New Year’s Eve I watched the ball drop on television. That’s right, I stayed up past midnight y’all. I didn’t plan such wild and crazy behavior. But then the baby wouldn’t settle until I brought him downstairs by the fire. And then the toddler woke up and puked all over herself. So there I found myself during the last minutes of 2009 doing laundry way past my normal bedtime and convincing Gabriella to switch the channel from Noggin to Times Square FOR JUST TWO SECONDS, DAMMIT!

Seventh-inning stretch

Dominic claps on command. He stretches on command too. And it’s not just his arms, it’s his legs, it’s his back, it’s his finger and toes. I cannot get over the fact that his first words are clapping and stretching. Most kids start with mama or dada. This kid is starting with bloody Sweet Caroline at Fenway Park. 

Count down

Courtesy of Polka Dot Design

Cool cat

Michael's Aunt Nancy met Dominic for the second time earlier this month and fawned over him as the women do. As you can see, he seems to take the attention in stride.

Snow is glistening

This weekend snow blanketed Boston and Gabriella earned her first cup of hot cocoa by helping Michael shovel the sidewalk.

Overheard

Gabriella: I. NEED. A BOOK.

Me: Excuse me, little girl. That is not how you ask for something. You say, please mama, may I have a book.

Gabriella: I can't remember all that!

Little Drummer Boy

Pa rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum.

Jolly Old Soul

If Gabriella is this excited to meet a plastic Santa then stick a corncob pipe in my mouth and call me Frosty because I'm going to need to tether her to the ground before she meets the real thing. If I don't, she's likely to rise to the ceiling of the Natick Mall as if she were a float in the Macy's Parade.

Overheard

Me: Behave yourself. I'm watching you.

Gabriella: Don't look at me! I'm GORGEOUS!

The gift of Domi

Sunday afternoon we walked a block and a half for Dominic's baptism at the local Catholic church. The ceremony included my new favorite prayer:

God has brought joy to all mothers, as they see the hope of eternal life shine on in their children. May he bless the mother of this child. She now thanks God for the gift of her child. May she be one with her son in thanking God for ever in heaven.

Then we ate antipasto, bruschetta, chicken salad, mini hotdogs, popcorn and bacon-wrapped scallops at home with family and friends. Oh! And the men stood around admiring the features of our baby monitor as if it were the latest iPod touch and singing Happy Birthday a cappella to Gabriella because she asked them to.

All I want for Christmas

I used to wonder what type of person asks Santa for two front teeth. But now I'm sleep deprived. Beyond sleep deprived. Because I live with a baby who is cutting his two front teeth. So Santa? Can you please bring me two front teeth? Soon, DAMMIT!

Drawing the line

Gabriella got herself into a whole lot of trouble today with her father. The crime: bouncing up and down on her brother. LIKE A KANGAROO she later told me. Dominic usually puts up with his sister's rough ways, I think because he finds her so damn entertaining. But the other night Dominic was rolling around the living room minding his own business when Gabriella lassoed his head with a pink headband. I grabbed the camera and he looked up as if to say, seriously Mom, you too? Where's Dad?

Dear Santa

Today Gabriella turns twenty-nine months and the world turns the corner toward the most wonderful time of year.

Santa is a daily topic of conversation in our house. Gabriella gets the presents, the milk and cookies, the carrots for the reindeer. But the letter to Santa confuses her. She keeps listing toys she has instead of toys she wants. Until today.

Today in the grocery store checkout line Gabriella thought of something Santa could bring her: ice cream. And oh, she didn't want to go home to take a nap. She wanted to go to the North Pole.

Not So Newlywed Game

In honor of our fifth wedding anniversary, I forced asked Michael to play the Not So Newlywed Game.

How do I take my coffee?

Tara: Soy milk and two Splenda
Michael: As a latte

If I could be married to a movie star who would I choose?

Tara: Mark Wahlberg
Michael: John Travolta

What would I eat every day if you could?

Tara: Pizza
Michael: Snyder's honey-mustard pretzels

What is Michael's dream job?

Tara: NFL coach
Michael: Lottery winner

What is one food Michael doesn't like?

Tara: Pot Roast
Michael: Pot Roast

What would Michael never wear?

Tara: A Halloween costume
Michael: Slacks

When I leave the house, is it party time, time to clean, or nap time for Michael?

Tara: Nap time
Michael: Nap time

BONUS QUESTION: Where was our first date?

Tara: Armani Cafe
Michael: Franklin Cafe

Happy anniversary, baby! I look forward to many more years so we can get to know each other.

Michael on our wedding day.

Boy Crazy

The other night Gabriella spotted a little boy eating dinner at the next table and said, “I love him.” Michael almost had a heart attack. “I love him. He’s cool.”

Recently she’s been developing crushes on older boys. She calls Michael from Barney and Friends on the phone. She cooks him dinner, cries when he misses an episode (which I suppose is the toddler equivalent of being ignored after a first date.) I know. THE HEARTACHE.

I think Gabriella reacts so positively to boys because she just loves her three boy cousins, especially Jonathan who is the oldest and spends a lot of time entertaining her.