Escape to Williamsburg!

This weekend we left the kids with their fabulous grandparents (thank you, thank you, fabulous grandparents!) and we drove down to colonial Williamsburg for a wonderful stay at a romantic bed & breakfast, The Williamsburg Whitehouse, and a reserve tour of the Williamsburg Winery. You can check out the B&B, where we have stayed twice before, at this address:

http://awilliamsburgwhitehouse.com/

The weekend was tremendous. Just lovely. We arrived at the Whitehouse, checked into our room, kicked off our shoes, opened up a bottle of wine, and relaxed for a bit. The room we chose was beautiful - the George Washington Suite, complete with pictures of George and Martha in the bedroom area. The bed is a queen with a featherbed - so comfortable - and set at an angle in a room with two large windows and an old-fashioned fireplace. There's also a sitting area, with attention to detail as well, including a huge plume feather pen, and the view is of the front lawn.

The first evening the weather was spectacular - 80 degrees - so I donned a new floor-length floral dress, and we went out to the Whitehall for dinner. This is a restaurant we've enjoyed before, in a historic building with wood floors and a wine cellar that features a glass ceiling - you can step over it and view the bottles below. We shared a bottle of Meritage - Sienna from Sonoma - which was was smooth at first, but finished with a wonderful peppery bite. We also shared a plate of crispy calamari, a lovely Caesar salad, and then I had a shrimp/pasta dish while Damian had the rockfish. It took two leisurely hours to eat, and we loved every minute of it. It was particularly nice to chat with my husband and slowly savor every bite of food/sip of good wine.

The next morning we woke to a quiet classical tune on the alarm clock, dressed, and headed down for our private breakfast in the JFK library of the bed and breakfast. The table was set with china and a candle, and we found scones and granola/yogurt/fruit to start, as well as strong coffee and orange juice. The main dish was stuffed french toast with strawberry sauce. Absolute heaven. We chatted and gazed out the windows as we enjoyed our breakfast.

More relaxation and reading followed, and then we walked the short 3/4 mile to the downtown area for lunch at a seafood place called Berret's. I had the best shrimp bisque of my life there, served in a moon-shaped white bowl, with bits of shaved spring onions on it, a Perrier, and a wonderful shrimp salad on a toasted croissant. Afterward, we strolled back to the B&B, and then it was off to the Williamsburg winery for our private reserve tour.

Now that was some fun! We toured the winery with a guide and a few other couples. Our tour guide was a riot - a retired electrical engineer whose wife said, "Don't you want to drink wine all day? Go give tours at the winery." And so he does! After wandering around the vineyard, we went down into the wine cellar - oh the cedar and oak smells down there were heavenly! We ended in a room set with candles, a huge table laid out with 14 bottles of wine, and a myriad of cheeses/breads for the tasting. We were each given a very large tasting glass to keep, and the tasting began!

The most memorable thing about the wines, in my opinion, was the bouquet on each wine. WW wines have wonderful noses, and I spent so much time with my nose down my glass that I was the last to finish in most cases. I also found it interesting to see people's personalities change as they sipped more wine. Some were shy, but started to smile and chatter away about halfway through. One interesting character was a pilot who was clearly full of himself, and we watched his ego expand with each new pour of wine. He thought he was funny, but he was rather obnoxious. To his credit, the guide did a decent job of handling him. To make myself feel better, I convinced Damian we needed to buy a case of wine. Happy birthday to me!

That night we picked up some pizza and brought it back to the room. I took a lovely bath, complete with a nice glass of WW white wine. Ahh - a treat. Our hot water heater doesn't quite kick out enough water to take a leisurely bath, but this wasn't a factor at the Whitehouse, and the bathroom was lovely. A winning combination, to be sure.

Our last meal was eggs benedict, again at the lovely private table in the JFK library. Sadly, we said goodbye to the B&B and headed for home. I missed the kids, but they were clearly none to happy with us when we got to Nanny's house. I must say, it was a slap back to reality after our fairy tale weekend!

If you're thinking of a romantic, relaxing getaway where you can enjoy good food and good wine, we highly recommend this vacation. When we return, we plan to stay in the new West Carriage house of the Williamsburg Whitehouse. We got a glimpse of them before we left, and the high ceilings and king-sized beds were very enticing! Now it's back to reality, but it was fun while it lasted........

The Easter Bunny Visits Chez Corey

The boys had a fantastic Easter Sunday with the family. It started at Chez Corey, where the Easter bunny left him some hidden eggs/chocolates/toys. After he hunted down all the eggs, we let him eat several chocolates - holidays, you know. As you might imagine, he loved that. With chocolate dripping down his chin, he asked his dad for yet another piece of candy. Damian said, "No! No mas!" To our surprise, Corey announced, "I want mas!" Impressive that he understood how to incorporate that word into a sentence, given that he doesn't speak Spanish. We cracked up.

We then headed to Uncle Shawn & Aunt Amanda's house for Easter dinner. Amanda's mom arranged an Easter egg hunt in the front yard, and the kids could not have been any cuter. Corey picked right up on the concept and found the most eggs, then he enjoyed sitting in the grass with me and opening them all. Sydney and Mason didn't quite get the hunt, but they still had a fantastic time running around the front yard in the sunshine. Sydney reminded us of Corey on Halloween - when we set her down on the sidewalk, she took off running!

Easter dinner followed, complete with good food, good wine, and plenty of conversation. It was a nice, family day, and the kids couldn't have been cuter or more fun. Check out the Easter pictures in the gallery, or use this address, for more proof of the funness. :-)

Easter Photos

Mr. Thirsty

This week I took Corey to the dentist. The pre-dentist activities (i.e., the 10.25 mls of penicillin he had to swallow before the cleaning, which, incidentally, is a truck load of liquid) did not go well. Not well at all. There was a lot of screaming after the negotiation tactics failed, and we essentially had to hold him down and make him take it. Of course he was so upset and it tasted so bad that he just vomited it right back up. It was all so heart-breaking and frustrating. I was really unhappy about having to lug him, and Mason, to the dentist's office after that. I thought it would surely be a nightmare of a visit, much like it was last time.

But, surprise surprise, the actual visit to Dr. Biederman (aka, Dr. Dan) could not have gone better. Dr. Biederman clearly has "the touch" when it comes to young children, and Corey responded very well to him. Corey was such a good boy! I promised him, before we went in, that he could play in the "up and down chair", that he could get a brand new toothbrush, and, if he was a really good boy, we'd go to Bed Bath and Beyond and buy him a new singing bottle opener afterward. And so, he played with the chair, got his new toothbrush, and then he just laid back on the chair and let Dr. Biederman clean/ examine his teeth without a single complaint! He even put up with Dr. Dan squirting water in his mouth and then "kissing Mr. Thirsty" - i.e., closing his mouth around the water suction device that even I find a bit disconcerting at the dentist.

The best news is that his teeth look terrific - the whole thing was just a big relief. Before we left, Corey was allowed to choose a sticker and a small toy, so he picked some blue Mardi Gras beads, which he wore with pride. I kept my promise to get him a new beer bottle opener, as well, and we headed directly to Bed Bath and Beyond to pick that up. So we will now be listening to "Hail to the Redskins" every 30 seconds until the thing breaks. Then we can add it to the pile of broken bottle openers. I'm taking suggestions on what to do with all these old openers, by the way. So far we have a wind chime on the list.

And now a few more funny moments in Corey's and Mason's lives:

Our Nissan has been broken since the early 1920's, though I am happy to say that it's finally been fixed. This week, after a long, long day, we picked Damian up at work, drove to the dealership, and retrieved the Nissan. Well, Corey loves to chat chat chat when we're driving, and this day was no exception. He kept up a running commentary, saying things like, "What street is this mommy? What street do we live on mommy? What street does Nanny live on mommy? What street does Gaga live on mommy?" (break to take a breath as I nearly run over a ground hog and exclaim "oh crud!") "Why did zoo say oh crud mommy? Where did za ground hog go? Is za ground hog ok mommy?" On and on and on.

Finally I said, in a very flat, serious mommy-means-business voice, "I am not available to answer questions while this song is on the radio, because I will be singing the song." Which I did. Bubbly, by Colby Callet. As long as I kept singing, he did not talk. The second the song finished, however, the chatterbox opened right back up. (sigh) At that point "Sexyback" came on the radio, however, and I said, "Corey - this song has a great beat! Try some dance moves, like Mason." I thought if he was busy boogying, then he couldn't be busy talking my ear off. Then I started working my neck and my shoulders, and I said, "Yeah! Get into it! Swing your ponytail around!" Which I did to (at a full stop during a break at a red light, of course). Corey said, "Mommy, I don't have a ponytail. (pause) Do I have a ponytail?" Ha!

Corey always has comments about my hair. If it's messy, he doesn't like it. This morning I wore it down, and the wind was whipping it around as we were climbing out of the van to make our Friday trip to the bagel shop. Corey said, "Mommy, zoo hair is funky! (pause) Is zoo hair little bit funky?" I said, "Yes, honey, it's a little funky." Corey said, "Fix it, mommy!" Yes sir!

When we got into the bagel shop, I had Mason on my hip. He immediately started to flirt with every woman he could make eye contact with. I set him down beside me to pay for our bagels, and he reached into my purse, grabbed my birth control pills, and made a bee-line for the coffee area, where he tried to hand them to some poor lady standing there. Thank you very much, Mason! I'm going to need those back.

Later, while eating his bagel, Mason made eye contact with a woman at the table next to ours. He turned up the charm, smiled his 100-watt smile, and cooed at her. All was well until he tried to offer her a piece of his ABC bagel. Yuck. I said, "Mason, you are not going to get her phone number that way!" He just giggled and opted to finish it up himself. Lovely.

Today is our 4-year wedding anniversary. Happy Anniversary, Damian! I love you.

Crystal Ball

There has been some interesting discussion on our online congenital heart defect support group lately about CHDs and how they have shaped our lives. A question was posed, discussion ensued, and somewhere along the line the focus became this: "If you could change your child's CHD, would you?" I found this particularly interesting because I think that this is really a question that everyone can relate to, in the form of, "If you could change X, Y, Z in your life, would you?" If you did change X, Y, or Z, you could potentially be in a different place, with different people, living a different life. Would you even be the person you are today?

Reading through the responses, I found that people fell into 2 distinct categories with respect to this question. The first group said they would not change their child's CHD, because the CHD had shaped their lives/made them better people/everything happens for a reason/this child was meant to be with us/etc. The second group said, are you kidding me - who would choose to suffer like this? Give my baby a healthy heart!

And then the crystal ball made a rare appearance, and I felt like I was given a chance to look into Corey's future as a child with CHD. Two mothers, one with a 5-year-old, and one with a teenager, asked their children the question: "If you could change your heart, would you?" The responses were very different, but both interesting.

Mother of the 5-year-old:

"I took the opportunity the other night to talk with Anika about our discussion. I asked her if she had the choice, would she have wanted to be born with a more traditional heart. A heart like her parents have . . . As she slurped her sushi seaweed soaked with soy sauce (that was just so fun to type I had to include it) -- she said 'nope.' I asked her why, and she said 'it's what makes me different'."

Mother of the teenager:

"I remember when Becca was little I am sure she would have said the same thing. She is now 15 yrs old and all she wants...'I just want to be normal'. As she has gotten older the physical restrictions (her body won't let her run or be active for very long at all) have hurt her psychologically & socially more...she is so very aware that her pulmonary hypertension could kill her...it is so, so very hard to have friends when she misses school and 'friends' just do not understand and on and on. Last week we were on our way to see her cardiologist in town and get a blood test (her potassium has been low) and just started to cry...she is soooooo tired of 'this...' she 'just wants to be normal'."

So what will it be like for Corey? Perhaps at 5 he will feel like Anika. He certainly is loved and adored now. People I've never met have expressed their concern for him. It's almost like he's famous. But at 15, will it be different?

What side of the fence do we fall on, you might ask? If we could change Corey's CHD, would we? The answer is absolutely "yes", yet still not simple. Damian and I would both tell you, in a moment, that should the genie from "Aladdin" grant us even one wish, we'd take a healthy heart for Corey. It's our greatest wish, of course. But I still feel like Corey was meant for us. He has a chance with us. And we are certainly so thankful that he was born now, in a time when Dr. Brenner and Dr. Vricella can help him to have as normal a life as possible.

No good deed......

Last night Damian and I decided to take our Nissan out for a spin. This was not a pleasure cruise/Sunday drive kind of thing. However, there was no screaming or whining from the backseat, as there were no small people back there, so perhaps it could have been a pleasure cruise. Except that the stupid car is not working properly. "Daddy's car is broke", as Corey would say. The car has been back and forth to different mechanics for nearly 2 weeks now. Nobody can figure out what the problem is. Rather takes the romance out of a spin, wouldn't you say?

Things got even less romantic in a matter of minutes, as we stalled out in the middle lane of a 3 lane road, several miles from our house. Cars were whizzing past us at break-neck speed in their hurry to get past us/around us/give us the finger. OK, so nobody gave us the finger, but neither did anyone offer to help us. We were near a light, so we opted to stay strapped in the car, seatbelts on, and wait for the light to turn red, forcing the other drivers to stop. Once the light turned, I hopped into the driver's seat, kicked the car into neutral, and Damian pushed it off to the side of the road. Where it promptly started up right away. We would like to thank the car gods for flipping us the bird.

I considered banging my forehead on the steering wheel horn at this point to relieve some of my frustration. However, the horn is broken too, and has been for some time now, so I decided this would be a particularly unsatisfying means of venting. I think I will buy that bumper sticker, though, that says, "Horn broken. Watch for finger."

At this point we decided that it would be better to drive back toward home, rather than continue driving further away, and so we stopped to grab some food at a place about a mile from the house. We figured we could walk home if necessary. As we were leaving with our bag full of hot, yummy smelling food, we noticed a car running with 2 small children in the backseat. There were no parents around. Damian and I were both dumbfounded at the level of idiocy and danger we were witnessing.

We called the police. What else was there to do? It's illegal to leave your kids in the car, first of all, but to leave them in it with the thing running? That's insanity! Do these people watch the news? What if someone had decided to jack their car with the kids in it? Or just kidnap the kids outright? So we called the police. An officer was dispatched to the scene, but the father returned to the car before the officer arrived, nearly 10 minutes later. 10 minutes! Thankfully the kids were alright. But what if it had been someone else, and not us, who had seen them alone in that car? It's frightening to think about.

The car gods apparently decided that we'd done our good deed for the night, and so the car started up and took us safely home. But now it's just sitting in our lot, useless. Maybe we'll turn it into a (supervised) jungle gym for the kids. Or a plant holder. Actually, Calypso could use a new cat box. Or, if I can get it to start, perhaps I'll put a log on the accelerator and watch it drive over a cliff. Take that, car gods! Anybody else have an idea?

Take that Polio!

Actually this post has nothing to do with Polio, and I confess that I didn't even come up with that title on my own. I lifted it from my brother's blog, but it got your attention, didn't it? This post does have to do with a trip to the doctor, however, although there were no shots given today.

I packed up the boys and took them to the pediatrician's office for Corey's 3-year "well child" visit this morning. Corey was such a good boy! He could not have been any more well-behaved, cooperative, or sweet. We're very proud of him.

So first of all, let me say that Dr. McKay feels that everything is on target with Corey. He's doing very well developmentally. His weight is 30.4 pounds, which is the 50th percentile (and a big WOWIE for a heart child), and his height is 36 5/8 inches, which is the 25th percentile. Excellent. Corey sat still for his blood pressure reading, while Dr. McKay listened to his heart, and while he palpated his stomach and testicles. Then Dr. McKay asked Corey if he would pee pee on the potty in a cup, and Corey responded with total enthusiasm. "Where is the potty? I can do that!" He jumped off the examination table and ran for the potty. When we arrived, he sat on the toilet, held the sample cup, peed in it, washed his hands, and then marched it right back to Dr. McKay and proudly proclaimed, "I pee pee'ed in the cup!"

Mason, not to be outdone by his older brother, hung out with Dr. McKay while Corey was in the potty and showed off his dance moves. I'd brought Mason's laptop along, and Mason demonstrated his moves for Dr. McKay. He was so impressed that he showed me Mason's moves when we returned to the exam room. Ha! Additionally, Mason met his future wife in the waiting room. Since Mason weighs 30 pounds at 14 months old, he's off-the-charts big. Well, in the waiting room we met a 15-month-old girl who is also 30 pounds! She stood eye-to-eye with Mason. Clearly they are MFEO. :-)