Happy happy joy joy LIGHTS!!

Tonight, after dinner, we headed out to Liz Simmons' house in the Hollywood Heights/Santa Monica neighborhood of Dallas. Every year, Simmons goes ALL OUT with her 150,000+ lights display. It is truly incredible, not only because it is so dazzling but because she recycles a lot of stuff in putting it together. Everything from some old vintage plastic owl decoration to an old mega-Skyy vodka bottle (her entire front walkway is lined with old bottles filled with Xmas lights). It is notable for both its abundance of cheer and funkiness, which somehow for me outshines all those other generic lights displays I see around town. They're nice, too, but Liz's just rocks my world. I find it impossible not to be happy there. Anyway, I posted some photos over on Facebook ... you can find them here. Mwah!

Video time

The video above is of Wilder singing some song he's learned at school. It might be hard to make out, but he's singing about the artists they've studied so far: Monet, Mondrian, Cezanne and Michelangelo. I particularly love the flourish he gives to the "Michelangeloooooo!" part, which comes near the end.

One of two videos I got of yesterday's Christmas program at W's school.

And the second video. The blurry blog of color at about the 1 minute mark is Hunter dancing on Jerry's lap. And yes, that's my child pointing repeatedly at the audience at the end, as if to say: "No, you guys! You guys, my fans, are GREAT!" Wilder is so awesome.

Oh really? Care to confirm Uncle Ty?

Me to Wilder: Where does Uncle Ty live?
W: In Uncle Ty City.
Me: And Uncle Jay?
W: In Uncle Jay World ... and Uncle Ty lives in a fashion show.

Bwaaahahahahahahaha!

Snow Day! On Jer's Birthday!!!

OK, so the use of explanation points in the title of this post might be a little overkill. But suffice to say we were all pretty excited that it was snowing on Jer's birthday yesterday shortly after we woke up, with Wilder and I both taking credit for it (at least in our own mind's, if not out loud) and with Wilder declaring that it now "must be Christmas!" for it clearly can snow on no other day. ;-)
At any rate, it was a great day for all involved, I think. I've been remiss the last few years in making Jerry feel as special as the birthday guy should feel. I think it has something to do with the fact that it's damn near impossible for me to get anything done without surgically removing a boy from the top of my head. But this year, we pulled it off.

Below are some photos, of the snow and the festivities. Enjoy. And love to all.

Didn't turn out as good as I'd hoped, but I still love the hugs.

First taste of snow.

Hmmm, it's kinda cold out here.

Wilder kept commanding me to "taste the snow, Mama. TASTE IT!"

Bundled up and ready to ... stand stiffly and wonder what the hell is going on out here?

Wilder ... so pleased.

A post-cake game of hiding under/over the coffee table.

Zee chocolate-mustacioed one!

Poking the cake. Good game.

First, a taste test.

They were supposed to look like a "4" and a "3"

Wilder, VERY excited about lit candles. And who can blame him.

The tiptoe button

Just now we were driving home from our friend Ginger's. She'd watched Hunter for me this morning while I joined Wilder at his school for the Thanksgiving party, which was fun and I'm glad I got to enjoy it without having to chase my littlest one around ... thanks G!).

Anyway, we were driving home well after Hunter's usual nap time, so he passed out in his car seat not five minutes into our drive. At some point, Wilder noticed, right as I was saying something to him.

"SHHHHH!" he commanded me, waving his hand in the air to indicate that I should shut it right then and there. Pointed at Hunter and gave me a very stern look.

"It's OK," I said. "We can talk quietly."

"No, Mama. No talking. Just drive," he whispered. And then: "And make the car tiptoe. Where's the tiptoe button???"

I love the things he says. Clever boy.

Hunter: not quite a mama's boy, but not quite not

Hunter is at that point in his developing toddlerhood where he has set preferences and clear opinions. For instance, he likes Jerry to pull him out of his crib first thing in the morning. If I go in, he gets mad, hollers, "no no no no no! PAPA!" At which point I shrug my shoulders, head back to bed and tap Jerry on the shoulder as I begin a glorious fall back into the soft contours of my mattress and pillow. This sometimes even happens when Hunter is napping during the day, when Jerry is at work, and after the bit where he hollers at me that I should not deign to live his hefty little butt from his slumber, sometimes literally telling me to "GO AWAY," I let him know he's in for a long wait and walk back out the door. He comes around eventually.

OK, so I'm kind of flippant about this, and I try to remember that sometimes the boys prefer me for other things, and also look on the bright side -- I can get an extra few winks in the morning or just lay in bed taking a little more time to wake up, which is great for an a.m. crankpot like me. But truth is, it does cause my heart to ache just a twinge when he sends me packing, demanding his papa.

Cut to this morning. Hunter woke up. Played in bed awhile. Then started calling out "Papaaa!" Jerry got up and took him out to the couch. Every morning, Hunter insists on taking his blankie, his doggy and his froggy out of his bed with him and cuddling on the couch with all three. Apparently, after he'd been up a few minutes this morning, he started gathering all of his lovies up and launched off the couch and started heading toward the hall that leads to the bedrooms.

"Where you going?" Jerry asked.

"Where's Mama?" Hunter answered, as he continued on his march.

A few seconds later, he wandered into our bedroom, calling my name. "Maaaaaaamaaaaa?" Walked over to the bed, looked up, saw me in it and demanded: "Up???" Then he crawled into bed with me, arranged all his prized possessions around me, laid his head on my chest and grinned at me.

Of course he then proceeded to roll around like a sumo wrestler, at some point butt-slamming my nose with his ample behind (we don't call him Captain Longcrack for nothing). But still, it was a sweet moment that I'll cherish.

Wilder: Helping a brother out

It never ceases to amaze me how sweet Wilder can be. We received a toy catalog in the mail a few days ago, and he's been going through page by page circling things he'd like for Santa to bring him — so much so that it's now pretty dog-eared.

But now, having searched through it exhaustively for selections for himself, he's now spent a good portion of his day finding things that Santa can bring his little brother.

We also look at the Christmas Countdown online every day, and his response is: "Oh maaaan, that's gonna take forever!"

Affirmation is sweet

There have been a number of (particularly trying) days since I started staying home with the boys back in February of this year when I wondered if I'd made the right decision by quitting my job. Today those concerns were put to rest.

Wilder just woke up from his nap. It took him quite awhile to fall to sleep, so he'd been in his room for a little over three hours. He woke up in a great mood, and was all stretches and sleepy smiles. He pointed to a toy in his bed and told me he was sorry for bringing it into bed to play.

"It's OK," I assured him. "You napped and that was the important part."

"But I missed you," I added

"I missed you too," he replied. And then he paused, and followed that up with this:

"And when I was a baby, I'd miss you all day when you went to work. I missed you so much."

"So you're glad I'm home with you now?"

"Yes, Mama. I'm glad." Big hug.

Leaves! Fall! Fun!