The Nugget is One.

The Duke of Sasquatchington turned one yesterday. I am still a little obsessed with the Royal Wedding, but I do think the name fits him quite well...and yes of course I loved Kate's dress, who wouldn't? And I do have alot to say in regards to the wedding, but the Duke's birthday takes some major precedence, and this queen mum is quite proud.

I tell you someone must have pushed the fast forward button. I think the more children you have, the faster time goes. I say it all the time, I know. You are like, 'shut up already, kids grow, its what they do, get over it!' And I get it, the busier you are, the faster the time goes, you are too side tracked to notice the calendar. I understand the reality of the situation. Before I know it I will be wearing Depends yelling at Andy to turn up his hearing aid and put in his dentures because the great grand kids are coming to visit.  So just let me have my pity party, alright?

So yesterday was a day of nothingness and somethingness all in one. See it's hard to celebrate one, unless of course you have the One Year Old Birthday Bash on the actual day the child's birthday. And having a party on a Wednesday in the beginning of May for 50+ of his most adoring fans can get a little hairy. The actual party then is Saturday. A mexican fiesta if you will, for the nugget who turned uno this week. So we celebrated Jake's birthday for Kendall and E today. We decorated, we had his 'favorite' meal, we sang to him, and we let him do what he wanted to do all day. This consisted of knocking down castles, eating crayons, dumping pet food bowls after others have done said chore. It was a little overwhelming for the siblings, we hit the top of the patience meter all day long, but it was for only a day, and it is his day, and you just have to deal with him climbing up your barbie house, just pretend he is Godzilla.

But of course turning one was something for me.
 I snuggle up in his little chunkiness and breathe him in as he sleeps, since that is the only time he is still. The debate rages on as to if this is my last little baklava, and so having him come out of this baby stage is a little overwhelming for me. I still swaddle him all up in a blanket and rock him to sleep. Yes, if he is my last, I will be also doing this at the age of 10. Why do you even bother wondering?

I mean look at him all scrunched up in that baby seat that lasted all of 4 months until he grew out of it. I miss size 1 diaper bulges. And not that I am craving another body invasion at this moment, please don't mistake what I am saying. I just want him to stay little for a couple more minutes.

Isn't it funny that as we grow we still look the same when we sleep as when we were a baby? I mean Jake doesn't sleep in this jacked up position, but the face is the same. I never realized this until I watched my kids sleep, and I thought I might share this important piece of information with you.

He now sleeps through the night.
He eats what we eat.
He is now beginning to take those first steps, preferring to side step then forward march. You know, whatever gets the job done.

I love when they are learning to walk. It's similar to the first time you are on roller skates. Everything becomes your stabilizer, your balance. The wall, the car, the chair, the dog, your brother, a tree, you get the idea.

His favorite thing to play with is balls. He just found his own personal set and thinks they are just about the most fascinating thing, typical to most males. However, he is obsessed with all actual balls that are not of the human anatomy as well. And surprisingly, he gets it. It's a little bizarre. He knows where to shoot a basketball. He can play a mad game of catch. And he can bounce and catch until the cows come home, if we had cows that were going to come home.

His most favorite things are his animals, and Lillian actually tolerates him, when she swats at him he still goes in for the lovin'. He's winning her over. And he adores his brother and sister. Each time he sees them its as if they have been away for days. The excitement is completely lost on them because it just doesn't make sense to them, but he doesn't even notice. Personally, I think it's awesome to be rendered as someones most favorite person, and this is what he thinks of them. I remind them of this frequently...and Kendall gives me that look that says, 'seriously, all I did was go to take a leak and was gone maybe 2 minutes.'

He is a lover and a goof.
He is at the stage right now where he is noticing social nuances and when we laugh he mimics it, when Kendall or E cry he loves on them and pats their back, and when he does something worthy of praise, he is the first one to give himself a standing ovation encouraging everyone to do the same.


He is my joy.
His smile so sweet.
I could sit and twirl my fingers in his strawberry blond curls all day.
He is happy and it is infectious. I feel as though life is going to be awesome through his eyes.
His cheeks are munchable.
His kisses, slobber filled.
He is mine.

Nugget we love you so.
Happy 1st Birthday.
It's the 1st of many and despite my heart breaking over the entire aging process, we can't wait to spend them all with you.

If you missed it and just want to read the play by play on Jake's Birth click:
here and then here. Why yes there is two parts, have you had a baby?
I blogged a lot about my pregnancy with him through 2009 and 2010 if you feel the need to dig into my past.
Enjoy!

The Sack-a-Rice Jesus Made

Today was Easter Sunday.

aw...so sweet & innocent...see that's exactly how the disney princesses got their kiss, they look so angelic, the prince must kiss her...and then BAM! their awake...and they want you to run through the forest talking & singing all day long.

Don't you just love trying to get a photo of your children on holidays? It's even more awesome when you have a son named Jacob Michael and he hates to sit still at all.

We have just decided amongst ourselves that we are simply just attempting to document the event, and that frills, smiles, and eyes and heads looking the correct way is just plain stupid to expect. Apparently so are shoes.

We do get the two oldest in a shot, and so there you can see the outfits because I am that matchy matchy mom...see the gingham theme? The blues, whites, khakis, greys? I'm that mom.But beyond that, we set our expectations pretty low. We now have Jake, and he's really just a doll, as you can see.

We did better with the whole reason for the season this year in regards to Kendall to some extent. Last year if you remember, in great theatrics...I tell you, I am sending her to the auditions at Sight & Sound to play Mary Magdalene, 'but that is terrible, why would they have my Jesus hang on a cross and laugh at him, and make him wear a sticker bush on his head, that's terrible!' I mean there was heaving sobs. And its sweet, right? She felt it. She felt the anger and the emotion of the entire event at 4 years old. Yet, I could not speak of Easter without her getting extremely emotional and theatrical for weeks before and after.

So this year, you know, I prepare for it. My kids ask tons of questions they want to know what we are doing and why. Kendall is now in preschool at a church. And I sat with the phone at my side for the past 2 weeks she was in school waiting for the phone call from the master of the preschool, to come and pick her up because she is hysterical while they are learning about the true meaning behind Easter. It was really that bad, I had to sit with her and rock her and hold her in my arms last year. 'My poor Jesus!'

And she was right. How do you sugar coat that story and make sense of the entire thing to a four year old? I believe I just rolled with the punches when I was that young, until I could truly conceptualize the great sacrifice that Jesus has made for us. But I knew the end, I knew that he rose, I knew that he returned, I knew that he was alive. I think it was fast forward learning in Sunday School when you were that young, ' and we wave the palms, Jesus eats with his disciples for one last time, Jesus died on the cross,' and then press the pause button and big emphasis on...he rose from the dead, the stone has rolled away, he is alive ! Kendall, could not get past the horrific events that led to this to even hear what a miracle had occurred, that he was ok, that he loves us so much. So I prepared myself, made sure I had the tissues.

I sign her up for the Lunch Bunch, this is staying for lunch afterschool for a few hours, that is about Easter. She thinks that she is going to see the Easter Bunny and is going on and on about how she is just going to wave to him and not sit with him. I tell her that Easter is not really about the Easter Bunny, and that the Bunny is fun and all, but that Easter was more then that. I told her to listen real closely at Lunch Bunch and then to tell me what Easter was really about, and that the Easter Bunny would not be joining her for lunch.

I prepared, like I said for the worst. She gets in the van at pick up, she has a wooden cross that she painted, and she hands it to me with specific instructions, 'uh Mommy, we must hang this in a place where we will see it often and are reminded of the great sack-a-rice Jesus made for us.' MmmHmm, that's right, she said sack a rice, like sack of rice. This entire thing took on another complex twist to it. It's never easy right?

I ask her if she had learned what Easter really was all about and she says to me, 'Jesus, Mommy, it's about Jesus,  (and she huffs, like I am stupid), but Mrs. K (her teacher) says that it is still alright for us to have an Easter Egg Hunt, so please make sure of that.' I just love the age where what your teacher says to you is law.

So at bath time we are talking about Easter again, and I am asking Kendall some questions about Easter and having Ethan join in the conversation. And I am saying how Jesus gave his life for us, and because of that when we ask God for forgiveness for that we did that was wrong, he forgives us. And Kendall looks at me and says, 'uh, Mommy, no Jesus made us all a sack a rice.' Ethan asks, ' Jesus gave us rice Kendall?' 'Yes a sack of it.'

This may actually be worse then the emotional breakdown the previous year because now there is the hard headed stubborn 5 year old correcting me and my theology. And really, does she even know what a sack of rice is anyway? Where is the Cadbury Egg Bunny?

So I nicely explain that it actually was a 'sacrifice,' and explain what the word means and I go into the story explaining it to Ethan and Kendall. And she is not saying 'sack a rice' anymore, which is encouraging. And as I am explaining the crucifixion to them Kendall interjects for her brother, 'now don't worry Ethan, Jesus is ok in the end. He has risen, he came back and was alive again.'

Ethan looks at me and asks, 'so can our fish come back alive again too?'

The Future Wing Bowl Champ is 11 Months

11 months.

He eats more than anyone in this house combined.
No joke. I make more trips to the grocery store for this monster's this and that, because, quite frankly he is eating us out if house and home.

Presently he has a diaper rash that is the size of the state of Ohio because he loves him some oranges. Seems like the citric acid doesn't feel the same way.

I toy back and forth with starting the whole milk now.
'YOU TERRIBLE MOTHER!!!' You scream.
I will have you know that I started all 2 of my other children whole milk just around this time. One continues to love her some milk, the other took the bottle from me at 15 months and went on and all out revolt against milk by throwing it across the room and refusing to let it touch his lips from that moment on. To this day I still beg of him to eat his dairy daily. It's a real great time.

So the jury is still out on the milk issue, as he just downed 12 ounces of formula for his nap.

He will eat just about anything so long as it isn't baby food because it isn't cool to eat pureed turkey with vegetables.

This child has 3 teeth, and he downs anything that crosses his path.


Practicing for the next month at his brother's birthday party.

Helping his sister and brother with their chores of feeding Stanley and Lillian, and taking a taking some nibblets for himself, because yes, he enjoys himself a little snickety snack of dog or cat food.

I am hoping that one day he becomes The Wing Bowl Champion or will go in the Guiness Book of World Records for eating the most hot dogs or something. Right now he would surely be in it and win it for the most goldfish crackers.

You know my aspirations are pretty high.
But beyond all the eating he does, he does not sleep through the night yet either. Ok, I take it back. He sleeps until 5 a.m., but who is jumping out of bed to start the day at 5 a.m. in this house? Unless it involves going to the airport to catch a plane to a vacation, we will stick to our beds at this hour, thank you.

But some quality traits that are positive and not wearing his mother straight into exhaustion are:

He likes to cuddle and give hugs. Most especially to those who don't deserve one like a growling cat or a sibling who doesn't like him touching his super heroes or her barbies.

And he loves to make you laugh. Loves it. Presently he enjoys blowing air our of his nose and sucking it right back up where it came from. And this is fun? Most especially fun when you attempt to do it back to him and snot comes flying out of your nose.

He is obsessed with balls, all balls. Yes, those balls too, but aren't all males? He screams and points at the giant red concrete balls at Target every day, since we are there every day. This morning we let him stand by it, and he tried so hard to push it so he could play with a giant ball of concrete. And was he ever mad that it wouldn't budge.

Kendall asks me all the time, 'Mommy is it hard having 3 kids?'

Some days it is like a marathon. And you just keep going and going and going. But there is a finish line. I have them several times a day with a snuggle, a smile, a thank you, and imitation of something I said or did, a small moment where they help each other.

Because quite frankly 3 is a bit hard. An 11 month old that is never still, even in his sleep, is hard. Putting on 3 sets of clothing, shoes, hair-do's and coats just to get out the door, late, is hard. Feeding a belly that is never ever full is hard.

But I would never ever change it.

Presently hooked up to the coffee IV, and would still never change it.

The Fourth Year & The BFF

This growing of children is ridiculous to me. It must be stopped. Time must start standing still.

I cannot believe he is 4. That is seriously impossible. I tell you I just want to march downstairs right now and swaddle him in his blankie and sing him songs that sound like lullabies but are really things I need to get done. You say he is too big, mind you, I have an almost 11 month old who is just the same size that I still swaddle and sing to, although he swats at my mouth when I sing. Listen, I never promised you a voice like freakin Celene Dion, but boy I can baby you like no other.

So on his actual birthday we went to The Crayola Factory. Ethan loves him an arts and craft time and this is like the mecca of preschool arts and crafts. He asked if he could take his BFF with him, and so that is what we did. We hit up the factory, made us some sweet crafts, got paint, chalk, marker and glue all over our clothes, had some ice cream that got all over our faces,  hit up our favorite pizza joint because they have a gumball machine, and called it a celebration .

And as evidenced in this pic, apparently we party hard...these two look like they were rolled over by that giant red crayon!

But let me just tell you something about my little man and his BFF, they are literally BFF's. I mean like up late at a sleepover chit chatting back and forth, playing for hours on end with not one squabble, not one. Leaving their mama and opting to spend immense amount of time at the others home without even a second thought. And this is all things that you do with your BFF, but at 3 and 4 years old? They talk about the other when the other isn't around. Just today E asked me, 'so do you think that Ryan would want to come over and hang out and play with my new toys from my birthday?' Come hang out?

It is not surprising that they are friends. They have the same personality, the same interest in toys, and think the other is just hysterical and just about the coolest person in the world. But their tightness, the BFF status is what blows my mind.

And you know, you hope for that for your kids. You hope for friendships that are strong, that are comforting, that are memory making, that are loyal and seek each others best interests. I had this growing up. A tight, almost crazy glued together tight, group of girlfriends that weaved me through childhood and teenage hell, and enabled me to be the person that I am today because they let me be me. We sought out the best in each other, accepted each other's faults, and man we made some memories.

In that group I had a super BFF that I thought for sure Kendall would have first, but like all things with parenting, I am always pleasantly surprised, and it looks as though Ethan took that.Kendall has a wide range of friends, is extremely social, and the life of the party, but hasn't zeroed in on a BFF quite yet, it changes daily. But Ethan has that someone that is your numero uno sidekick, someone who always has your back, even when they know you are wrong, and someone you can completely be yourself around.

 Each time I watch the Local News I am reminded of this friend because sometimes in the middle of the night you would find us laughing hysterically at each other as we attempted to name every reporter on the Action News Team. I kid you not. Many kids were sneaking out of houses, rolling their manual cars down the streets and then starting them within a safe distance from parents ears, and we were naming New Jersey Correspondents. Ok, ok, truth be told, perhaps we were doing both, not of course naming the accuweather team on the same night as the joy ride, that's just not safe, but in either situation we were definitely in it together.

I am incredibly thankful that my little buddy has a buddy of his own, when I really sit and think about it, and am not extremely jealous over the fact that he pays me absolutely no mind when his BFF is around. At home he is definitely outspoken by his darling older sister and his little brother requires a bit of attention, and so to have a buddy that you can simply just be with is just what he needs. They are both ironically middle children. And as my husband attests to over and over again, being the middler is rough sometimes. Yeah, well try being the oldest.

On the night the BFF slept over  for the first time, I could hear the two of them talking back and forth for over an hour just lying there in sleeping bags. Giggling, making superhero impersonations. But, what in the world could they possibly find to talk about at 3 years old for an hour? I have no idea what grown men even talk about when they are together, because they still manage to remain clueless when you ask what is new with the person they just spent an entire day golfing with. However,  I am sure that my parents thought the same of me and my friends as I did of E and his BFF. 'What could they possibly talk about until 3 am? Do they not spend every single day together?' But I was 15.

The two of them conference quietly together as activity rages on around them, and then they run off like tag team superheroes to conqueor whatever is that they have decided to counqueor, together. It is endearing, it is in some ways very enviable, because some search and search and never find a friend like that. And at now, 4 years old.

I was in New York yesterday with some of my lady friends and saw an interview with Elizabeth Berkley, you know Jesse Spano? More on that in another post. But she was talking about friendships and described them as, some sticking around for a reason, a season or a lifetime. And isn't that for real?

And the reason that E and his BFF are so tight is quite evident but I can't help but hope that it lasts a lifetime...cause beyond that...I think his mama is a pretty awesome friend as well.

So to my four year old man. I can't help but be in awe of you. Your spirit, your enthusiasm, and your sensitivity for others is honorable. I love being your mama. You are sweet and determined, and the best big brother. Your imagination reaches beyond the clouds and the way you love me melts my heart.

And from what it looks like...you are a pretty awesome friend.

Rules of Biking

So we snagged the bikes out of their winter home this week. They are like new toys all over again. They fight over them, they race around and top speed and topple over. Kendall tells me that she can ride without her training wheels. She tells me this almost every spring since she has had a bike, like it is just going to happen has sure as she will turn a year older, she will now be magically able to ride without training wheels. I remind her that she has to learn. That she needs to wear a helmet and knee pads and elbow pads because she will surely fall until she gets the hang of it. I tell her that she can do it, and once she does it is so much fun. But that it takes commitment and a lot of practice. She asked me yesterday if they sell training wheels for my size bike because she thinks that she would always like to have them even when she is a grown up like me. I cannot wait to see that.

So there are rules when we ride our bikes outside and all. And they are not permitted to go around the block without me and that they must stay between our two neighbors houses on the sidewalk and no further so that I can see them at all times.

Yesterday Kendall took it upon herself to remind her brother of the rules that she had remembered from last year. I tell you, this is proof that this girl listens and processes. Remind me.

'Uh Ethan, now you remember that there are bike riding rules, right? Mommy needs to be able to see you. You have to stay between Kathy's house and Justin's house no matter who is down the street. Unless it is Jesus, if he tells you to come, it's ok, but you have to go and get Mommy because she wants to go and see him too.'

Oh my little rule follower.

Oh but the best is Ethan's response.

'I know the rules Kendall. You not need to tell me. You not the boss.  I have a Mommy and a Daddy. So what's the big deal, huh?'

The Banning of the Fast Food Playhouses

Let me start out by saying that I have heard the stories.
I am fully aware that there have been instances of children barfing on the landings and children running shoeless or on their hands and knees through it.

I know that there are guardians of children that permit their children to bring their food into the play area and then it is smashed all over, and again children are walking and crawling through this food.

I am aware that there have been said instances of leaking diapers, smearing down the slide.

Bon Appetit.

And I'll admit it. Up to this point I have taken my children to this fast food establishments and have permitted them to enjoy the wondrous playhouse.

Never was there an incident.

Ok, so I have been a bit paranoid about the germs and have them use antibacterial hand gel when coming and going through the playhouse. And yes, even if the table appears clean, I clean it first with a wipe, then with some antibacterial spray, and then with another wipe. And then have them eat off of mats made of napkins. I am a big fan of disposable place mats. But who can remember to a.) purchase them and then b.) bring them?

Alright, maybe you can, come get your Mom of the Year trophy.

Let me preface this story again with what led up to our journey to this what will go unnamed establishment for kids meals and playhouse.

We had lost the remote for the Blue Ray Player once again. Knowing that it was somewhere downstairs being used for a phone, and or put away hastily in the wrong spot, I refused to look for it. This has happened like 15 times in the past 3 months, and instead of getting aggravated and going on a mad search through the downstairs. I simply pronounced, 'whomever finds the black remote gets to go on a trip with Mommy to _________.' ( the unnamed fast food establishment) They shared this with everyone, such excitement. But for some reason this went on for 3 weeks. I still refused to look for it. I get agitated when looking for needles in haystacks. I really do, and I know that there is some mental issues in regards to that, because it is more agitated then necessary, however, I simply refused exacerbate this said mental issue, and said, 'good luck my friends, may the best child win.'

So my  friend Sue watches the darlings for us on Monday afternoons while I go and get my weekly spa treatments. Not really, wouldn't that be something though, to actually say that with no qualms about it? Really she is watching them while I go to work until my love gets home from work. I explained to her that they can watch a movie, but will have to endure all of the previews and then you will have to push stop and then play again to get past the main menu, because the remote is lost. The offspring chimed in, 'and whoever finds the remote gets to go to _________ with just Mommy!!!!!!!!!' I seriously think they thought that one day it would just jump into one of their hands because they did not once go on a mad search for it, but their enthusiasm over the prize was huge. I don't really think they got the whole concept.

Amazingly the next morning they proclaim, 'we found the remote!!!'
'Who found the remote?!?!!'
'We found the remote!!!!'
'You found the remote at the same time!??!'
'Uh....yes, we found at the same time!!'
'That's amazing, so you both get to go with Mommy!!'
Such good story tellers.

Later after egging the situation on with such praise and compliments, you know, 'I just can't believe you both found it, that is just so wonderful, I am just so happy for you, you surely deserve this trip,' and things of that nature, Kendall comes to me all guilt ridden.
'Uh Mommy, you know um, well, Sue actually found the remote, but she said that we could both say that we found it so that we could both go to _______.'
'Hmmm, well since you were so honest Kendall, and you know Mommy is all about being honest and telling the truth, I think it is only fair that we go, since the remote has been found and Sue wanted you both to go for her.'
'Awesome.'
We will later address the situation surrounding the prompting of my children lying with a write up, Sue.

So we're there.

I want to first point out my initial annoyance which typically occurs in said playhouse.
The age parameters completely being disregarded.
It annoys me to no end that guardians permit their grown children to play in the playhouse. And they aren't just walking around nicely minding their size and the tiny children underfoot. They are storming through there playing tag and wrestling and pushing and shoving and being all loud.
If they are an older sibling helping the younger sibling navigate the house, well then, I will let them and their kind heart slide.
But this rarely occurs and I just want to say that if you are old enough to read playhouse rules, you should not be in the playhouse.
I'm just saying.

So they play, we get the food, we call them to eat, they shovel it down, ask to play again.
At this point a foul stench begins to overcome the playhouse eating and playing area.
To the point where people are coming in with their food making a funny face, scrunching up their nose, and walking out.

And you know when you are in the smell you don't really notice it all that bad. But Andy who is walking in and out and is the roving reporter when anything is going on definitely smells it. And when Andy knows there is something going on that is affecting everyone around him, he always chimes in, always. He seriously should be on CNN or something.

Andy has me checking Jake's diaper, but it isn't a poop smell, and I really can't smell it all that bad, I haven't left the area, but the diaper was all clear anyway. Andy then has me smelling his feet. Picture: Me leaning over while husband props up foot and me again, sniffing. The things we do. But no, it isn't that either.

Then the crew walks in to 'inspect' the area. They have a mop and their noses, they scan the area like the freakin scent is going to jump out at them and say, 'here I am.' They pronounce they don't see anything, and walk out. You know, perhaps some air deodorizing spray might work in this situation, again I am just saying.

Ethan then walks up to me to tell me something crucial. It is that 'I can't believe this just happened,' face. It is half smirk, half amusement, half astonishment. These are typically great comments.

'Mommy guess what? I just farted like a super big fart and it's so loud in here that I couldn't even hear it!

'That's awesome E, but since you told me, can you still say excuse me?'

'Uh yup, 'scuse me.'

I suppose this was his first experience with the 'don't ask, don't tell,' policy regarding passing gas in public. If they don't know it was you, don't draw attention to it.

And I like couldn't even smell it either.

So then of course he has to use the facilities, and Andy is like, 'that's it we're out you are going to have to hold it E.'

And you know little boys and holding it? Yeah, not gonna happen.

So we run to the bathroom, he is dancing his I have to go to go jig, as I cover the seat with tissue paper. He says his normal line, and I can pretty much recite it as I know he will proclaim it every time, so that all females in there will hear that this wasn't his idea. 'Uh Mommy, it is ok for me to come to the girls room, even though I am a boy, because you are with me and I am too little to go to the boys room by myself, and there are strange people in there when I am not with Daddy.' I think he means strangers, but you know, people are strange too. You've heard the stories.

Then we walk back walk in and the smell hits me and I want to literally vomit. I grab one of the kids sweatshirts to breathe through because you need a gas mask of some sort. I announce, 'pack it up, we are getting out of here this is so gross!!!' And the smell is like dirty socks that have not been washed in seriously five months. You know the ones that have been sitting in the bottom of a gym locker after a serious sweat for the entire school year. And there are children who clearly can read, running through the playhouse at top speed. The culprits.

I tell Kendall that we are going, she is aware of what is going on, not sure where the smell is coming from and says, 'well if you want me to I can check the slide, maybe someone threw up in there, and I can go and tell the workers if I find some in there.'

I thank her for her sacrificial suggestion, but that we will be leaving before that can occur.

We rush out the door breathe in the fresh air, well sort of, it still smells like fast food, you know that fry and hamburger smell that encompasses the establishment in a one mile radius? But it ain't that terrible smell from the playhouse.

I announce, that that is it, we are never going in that dirty place again. No more playhouses at fast food places ever!
They both say, 'yeah that was super smelly gross! But we can go through the drive thru?'
And they have a point.
I mean who can never ever again have fast food fries?
Case Closed.

*And I would like to point out also that with us that evening was a 10.5 month old who ate his entire Kids Meal... we're talking four nuggets, a small fry, and a juice box. He is no joke in the food department.