5x7 Folded Card

Picture In Landscape 5x7 folded card

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We Interrupt Your Winter Blues

It is difficult, nay, impossible for anyone in my immediate family to hear this song and not start dancing.  

Bringing the Mountain to Mohammad

Not long ago Sam and I were flipping through a memory book where we saw much of the "art" he created as a baby. I was thinking to myself, "I can't wait until Clara gets old enough to do this," when I flipped a masterpiece over, saw the date, and realized Sam was 3 months younger than Clara's current age.


So this afternoon I hauled out large sheets of papers and washable markers and let Clara have at it. She loved it. 


And then she tried to eat it. Like most babies her age, Clara grabbed a marker and stuck it in her mouth. "No, no, Clara," I said gently as I pulled it out. We reenacted this scenario three times before Clara figured out this was not snack time.


So instead, she took her marker, colored on her hand, and then began licking that hand.


The teenage years are gonna be a blast.

What a Difference A Year Makes

What a difference a year makes. This time last year we were spending two hours getting Sam to bed, and then re-tucking him in at midnight and 3 am before being up for the day at 5 am. All of this done with many tears and fits (from the entire family). This was before we knew Sam was having a difficult time breathing and we had no idea what kind of sleep-hating monster had inhabited our son.

Fast forward to January 2012. Life is good. It is sustainable. Sam is a dream to put to bed. And tonight I got all wobbly kneed with his parting comments:

"Mommy, do you know how much I love you? I love you more than a dog loves his tail. I love you more than a raven loves his treasure. And I love you more than a whale loves his spout. And wanna know how long I'll love you? I will love you until the stars turn into fish and the puffin howls at the moon."**

**Of course, it's quite possibly these are phrases he picked up from an obnoxious children's TV show. And if he has, feel free to NOT tell me. Just let me live in my nice little poetic world of ignorance. 

I love the sleep "surrender" position.

Note the animals he stuffs up between the beams of his bunk bed. The kid sleeps in a menagerie.

The Newest Member of Our Family: Sam's Pet

Here's the clip of Sam getting his first pet. It's ridiculously long. The first minute or two is cute as he realizes he is in fact a pet owner. You can also hear evidence of his crazy love of animals and insane amount of knowledge in his ability to categorize these animals.

So far so good with the newt Sam has named, "Sticky Tack" (he picks the name at 6:25). In fact, just yesterday Sam announced, "Sticky Tack has lived longer than Stay-Forever and Stay-for-Two-Weeks. And he's right. He has. And I harbor a secret fear that the pet store owner substituted the $3.99 newt for the $18.99 one that's supposed to live 15-20 years. If such is the case, this newt WILL move out of the house when Sam does.

Merry Christmas!

It has been a very Merry Christmas here in the Drury house. My evening has been punctuated by Sam's pronouncements, "I love my newt!" We caught the whole pet-giving thing on tape and it's currently uploading. I'll post tomorrow. In the meantime, Merry Christmas from all of us!

Santa is Bringing Sam a Pet

Dear World,

Tomorrow, at approximately 4 pm, Samuel James Drury will receive his first pet. A fire-bellied newt (you might call it a glorified fish). This has been a long time coming. Sam has been asking for a pet for 2.5 years (he just turned 4). His first choice would be a cat which allergies make impossible (for which I can't say I'm sorry). Originally, he had proposed that we could get a cat if we got rid of Daddy. When he realized that wasn't going to happen, he then proposed that he keep the cat in his room and banish John from the upstairs. When he realized that meant Daddy could no longer kiss him good night he finally settled on a hairless cat. Yeah. That's not going to happen.

(I just called Sam over so he could see a picture of a real hair-less cat. His response, "Wow. It looks kind of like an opossum to me.")

Two weeks ago Sam let out a big sigh and asked, "Why don't I have a pet?" Last week Sam was spouting off people he would see in heaven: "I'll see Moses and Noah and Jesus and Stay Forever and Stay For Two Weeks and then they really will stay forever and they won't die." I think he might be ready for a pet.

So tomorrow afternoon we will surprise Sam with a trip to the pet store where we will pick out a newt.

I already staked out the place and paid my $3.99 for my reptile of choice. Originally the store owner tried to push me in the direction of a 3-inch-long newt who he claimed could easily live up to 15 or 20 years. I'm afraid I was rude when I interrupted him with a gaspy, "NO! I don't want it to live that long." I'm not looking for a long term commitment in a pet. I would be fine if it died after a few months. Cruel, I know. I just want it to make it past two weeks.

When I was in grade school I had a newt that lasted for a week or two. I left the top of the aquarium off and he climbed the walls and disappeared. My mom found him months later shriveled up under the fridge. His name was Purpey and I loved him.

I'm bracing myself for Sam's response. He could very well give a nonchalant, "Thanks," and proceed to play with Legos. He could melt down at the realization that we are absolutely in no way going to get a cat...not even a hairless one. I have no idea how he'll respond. Although the fact that this kid can get excited over a new pair of socks bodes well.

I will keep you posted on all of the reptilian cheer around here. And I will make sure Sam's aquarium has a lid.