Too much TV...but

I have always been particular about what Cole watches on TV. Back in my pre-parenting days, I was one of those who said I wouldn't use TV as a babysitter...well, any parent knows how difficult that concept is to keep to in reality...hence, PBS kids or commercial free Noggin are the two channels I will let Cole watch as I clean, shower or attend to email.

He loves Dinosaur Train, Bob the Builder, Wonder Pets, Dora, Max & Ruby and Franklin. Cole can sing the opening songs to any of them and name the characters (he is the first to correct me too when I identify someone incorrectly). Cole gets very upset when Dave and I watch anything else, "I can't watch the news" he groans and whines with such angst. In all honesty, I can sympathize with him in part since the news is less than uplifting 99% of the time.

Anyway, the other day while Cole was playing without the TV on, running back and forth and being the boy that he is, in a state of constant motion, my second kid Tucker was attempting to find a spot away from Cole's activity where he was safe from sudden and quick movements. He does love to sleep on the couch laying on our throws and pillows or Cole's blankets. It upsets Cole when it is something of his because he can't dislodge the article once Tucker settles in. Anyway, Tucker innocently was just being himself and was about to circle around and plop down on Cole's fav blue blanket. Cole in a very shrill voice shrieks, Tucker no swiping, Tucker no swiping...and pulls the blanket out before poor Tucker could lay down. I started laughing...I guess Cole is absorbing a little too much of Dora the Explorer dialogue. However to soften the guilt I feel due to this obvious overindulgence of TV time, he did count to ten in Spanish the other day to my astonishment so I figure he is indeed thankfully learning something from his time in front of the screen.

Happy Third Birthday Pickle!

I remember vividly my first night post-delivery with Cole...Dave had gone home to get some sleep and pick up Tucker from our friends. It was the wee hours of the night and the nurses kept bringing me Cole every 90 minutes or so because he was fussing. He had jaundice so he was attached to the biliblankets making it all the more difficult to maneuver to nurse him while recovering from my C-section. I couldn't get out of bed without quite a bit of cursing and grunting and yet my calls to the nursing station went unanswered so I managed to get myself sideways on the bed holding Cole with one arm, bracing myself on the bed rails, praying I would be able to lift Cole into his bassinet so I could rest. By the time I nursed and they finally came to take him back to the nursery, 90 minutes had almost passed. It was like living in the twilight zone, my mind and body exhausted from labor and now struggling with mending from major surgery. And yet, as much as I dreaded the door opening again on the heels of just moments of sleep, I eagerly (and anxiously) anticipated Cole's return to my arms even more.

Moments of three years ago are etched in my memory. Some more faded than others. However I do vividly recall the first time I called him Pickle. That very same night, alone with him I remember looking at his wrinkled up nose, bruised noggin and puckered lips, he looked like a pickle and hence his nickname was born. I have called him that consistently ever since.

Happy Third Birthday Cole! You will ALWAYS be my little pickle!