Smarty pants

I don't like to brag. Oh, who am I kidding, I LOVE to brag. My favorite topic? Andrew.

Bragging about your child is a delicate thing. There are certain people receptive to this bragging (grandparents) and others who should never hear it (other mothers). I know that other mothers read this blog, and I brag a lot. Or at least you think I do. I really try to hold myself back quite a bit.

But here I go. Andrew has really been amazing the last few weeks, so I'm going to BRAG about a few things. Not to be a braggart. But since I've been printing out my blog, I realize how much I enjoy reading these things later on. Which makes me a braggart. ;)

Like about the day after his Valentine's Day party at school. I doled out 5 conversation hearts to him as an after lunch snack. He's never had them before, and I certainly didn't read the hearts to him that time. He came up to me with a heart a few minutes later and said, "This one says 'Miss you'." And it did. I refuse to believe that he read the heart. It is impossible. But how do you explain it? Smarty pants.

We read the paper together in the mornings. Mostly the comics and the weather map (I said Andrew was smart...not me). Andrew has the map down cold. He's know several states for a while now (he can point out and name PA, KY, CA, OH, TX, SC, NH...all the states he's lived in or family members live in) and he definitely recognizes the United States on a world map. So he immediately looks at the weather map and finds PA, and then he tells me what the weather will be. See, he knows what the different colors mean, and the symbols for rain, snow, etc. So every morning I get a weather report for CA, KY, OH, and PA. Sometimes TX. Smarty pants.

He's getting really good at telling time too. He knows that the little hand tells the hour...although the big hand baffles him (can't quite count by 5s yet). He stays in his room for quiet time until the clock reads the time that I tell him (that one is a digital clock). Smarty pants.

Okay, I'm done. For now. The only bad thing about living with a smarty pants is that I feel like I have to defend myself. I probably don't and it's just that I'm weird, but I feel the need to point out that I do not coach this child. We read a lot of books and do things like read the paper together and look at his US map placemat...but it is mostly done for my sanity. I have no flashcards. I did not listen to Mozart when pregnant. I feel like because Andrew is smart I have to prove that I am not psycho parent from hell making her child learn all this stuff.

And maybe some of you mommies are laughing out there because Andrew is totally in line with his age. One of the blessings of the oldest is you truly believe they are geniuses. At least until they go to school and you are faced with their peers. So let me live in my little fantasy. Not that I want him to be a genius. But that he is a smarty-pants. ;)

Potty training for Mommy

Does this look like a child capable of potty training?

Don't be alarmed by the title of this post. I have been potty trained for the last 27 years or so(except for a brief period after Andrew was born...damn 4th degree tear). No, I'm talking about potty training my son.

That's right, people. Andrew has made a huge turn in the last week and a half. He is entering the bathroom and voluntarily sitting on the potty. -gasp- He is willing to put on underwear. -gasp- He is excited about going potty.

I am almost crying right now. How grateful am I that I MAYBE won't have to change this child's diapers in high school. I MAY NOT have to home school him due to no potty skills. I AM ELATED.

Don't get me wrong. We have a long way to go. Both of us have a long way to go.

Andrew's been wearing underpants every morning. Saturday morning he went 2 1/2 hours with no accident!!! I just put him on the potty every half hour or so. Kind of like potty training your puppy...just put them outside every once in a while, praise them tremendously when they succeed, and hope they get the hint/clue where they are supposed to dispose of their excrement. Who needs parenting books?

Sunday, we're feeling quite confident. Andrew was driving Jeff and I CRAZY. "Mom. Mom. Mom. Look at this. (2 seconds pass). Dad, watch me. Dad, watch. Dad, what are you doing. Dad, watch this. Dad, this car is going to win the race. Dad. Dad. Dad. " You get the idea. As wonderful as it is to have a verbal child, it can be mentally exhausting at times. So I decide to take Andrew to the grocery with me. Sunday morning.

We jet out the door. I don't remember that Andrew has no diaper on. I don't even think about it. For the first 3 years of his life, the only time I think about his bodily waste is when I'm changing his diaper. I've taken for granted the fact that I don't have to worry about the exact timing of his peeing or pooping. Oops. As I'm bagging up some green peppers, Andrew starts crying..."I peed in my pants".

Poor humiliated thing (although I'm kind of excited that he's upset about wet pants...also a move in the right direction). His doofus of a mother didn't even think to have him sit on the potty before we left the house. Nor did she offer him a diaper.

But what makes me an even worse mother is I finished shopping. I asked Andrew if he wanted to go home or could I finish shopping. He agreed to finish shopping...as long as he could sit in the cart.

Moral of the story...potty training Andrew is going to take some Mommy training as well. His life is changing, and so is mine. Suddenly I'm watching him for any sign, any signal that peeing is immanent. I'm mentally measuring how much liquid has gone into his body in the last few hours...how that correlates with the amount of liquid coming back out during our potty visits, and then calculating the amount of time until the next potty visit should be. I'm setting timers, creating charts, doling out gumdrops like water. At the same time, I'm trying to hide my enthusiasm and plotting so that my 3 year old doesn't suddenly change his mind just to spite me.

I haven't used this much mental energy in a long time.

Cutie pies

Here are some photos of the kids. Including the furry kid that is sorely neglected as of late.

We had a great day yesterday. We lazed around in the morning, playing endless games of Go Fish. Andrew is ADDICTED to the game...and we humor him because it is the first game that he can lose without throwing a huge tantrum. He actually lets us win...gracefully. Ending up tied is better, but we are occasionally allowed to win. I finished painting the trim and cabinets in the kids' bathroom. Both children napped...almost simultaneously. Then we drove around a bit...saw where Washington crossed the Delaware and walked around New Hope a bit (very artsy community...a bit like Laguna Beach except FREEZING COLD). On the way home went to a FANTASTIC restaurant in our town and by the time we got home it was bedtime. Bonus.

Andrew almost made me tear up in the car. We were between New Hope and our dining destination and Lily was talking up a storm. We could barely talk over her, she was squealing and cooing so loudly. When she paused for a moment, Andrew said, "That was a great story Lily. Tell me another."

Okay, so he's just mimicking me. I say that to Lily all the time. But it is ten times cuter coming out of a 3 year old's mouth.

5 things about Lily

To be fair, this morning I will list my 5 favorite things about Lily. This is a little more difficult, since she doesn't quite have her own unique personality yet. Well, she probably has it, she's just trapped inside an infant body and can't express that personality very well yet.

1) Those cheeks!!! They are so firm and round and yummy...I have to fight the urge to just pinch them and kiss them all day long. They are red from being chapped by wind, spit (Lily likes to wipe her slobbery fingers on them), and kissing. Poor baby. She can't take a pacifier, because the edges can't make it past the cheeks. She literally can't fit a pacifier all the way into her mouth. So DAGGONE CUTE!

2) She is so ticklish! And she already anticipates the next tickle. She'll see your hand coming and just descend into giggles. Before you've even touched her!

3) She is so coordinated. At least compared to her brother at this age. Which probably means she's just average. But because of our experience with her brother, Jeff and I are AMAZED at her hand-eye coordination. She sees something, she immediately reaches out and grabs it. Andrew didn't even use his thumb until he was 9 months old!!! Lily is a pro already and she's not even 5 months old yet. Amazing.

4) She wants to be a part of everything. She'll be fussy until you bring her into the activity. She just wants to be part of the conversation/game/party/meal. As long as she isn't degraded to baby status, she's happy.

5) She's so happy...most of the time. I know I've said this before, and I warn you, I'll probably say it forever. I don't deserve ANOTHER good baby. She's good in different ways than Andrew...but she's still unbelievable. She's just fun to be around...already. Love her love her love her.

A more positive post...

...to balance out my WHINE in the other post today.

Andrew is so dang cute. Cute really doesn't do him justice, but since I haven't used my brain for anything other than mommy-talk lately, I can't really come up with a better word. Here are my top 5 things about Andrew at this moment:

1) I get compliments about him everywhere we go. He is so polite and talkative, people just want to tell me about it. And you know what? I never get sick of hearing about him. I love the look on people's faces when we are in the grocery and Andrew almost runs into a cart and immediately says, "Oh, excuse me" or "Sorry". Their faces amuse me every time. Or at gym class when he sits patiently on the bolster waiting for his turn. I take very little credit for his behavior...I know I just got lucky to get a kid this good. But the compliments still make me proud...I'm so proud he's mine.

2) He is officially living in an imaginary world. Just as my sister got a kid that has the same interests as her (all that art!), my child is turning out to be just like me. It's fun and scary at the same time. He talks to imaginary people quite a bit now. I love when we're in a conversation and he turns to talk to his friend...whom I can't see. Or when he comes up to me holding an invisible object...and wants me to play with it. I can't stress how cool it is to have a kid that literally needs nothing to play with. His imagination is all he needs.

3) He loves his baby sister. I love to catch him giving her a quick snuggle, or stopping to explain something to her or show her something. It makes my heart skip a beat to watch him protecting her when we're out in public...announcing to all strangers, "That's my sister. Her name is Lily." It makes me so glad I puked for 5 months. ;)

4) He is silly silly silly. He will spontaneously wiggle and dance...just to make us laugh. He will repeat funny things he's said...just to make us laugh. His budding sense of humor is so charming that despite ourselves, Jeff and I laugh at just about anything he does...even if it is bad.

5) He is getting more and more wily by the day. Too smart for his own good. Has an answer for everything. As an example: we were driving home from an outing with Grandma and Grandpa. He'd already eaten his body weight in candy, and he still had a candy necklace left to eat. I told him he had to wait. He wanted it bad. So we made a "deal" (Andrew's a big deal-maker). He could hold hit, but not eat it. I was sitting behind him in the van, so I couldn't see what he was doing, and Lily isn't old enough to tell on him yet. Grandpa went to get him out, and Andrew was sucking on the necklace. Here's the conversation:

"Andrew, I thought you were told not to eat that candy necklace"
"I'm not eating it. I'm just tasting it."

Which is true. He hadn't "eaten" a single one. But he had licked almost all of them...simply tasting them. We were trying our hardest not to snicker at that one.

He is Trouble with a capital "T". But I love him for it.

Dang-it. I can think of a few other favorite things about Andrew right now. But I'll stop. Save them for another day. I love this kid. (stay tuned for my 5 favorite things about Lily...she's squealing beside me at the moment)

Mommy Night Out

I miss Louisville.

Not as much as I used to. I'm definitely not moving back there, so I just can't think about it. But every once in a while I feel like making a big -sigh-. Last night was one of those times.

I was a regular party animal in Louisville. It didn't matter what the event...it was fun. Even though I only live there for 18 months, I really felt like I clicked with the people I met and just fit in. Part of it is luck. But part of it is also that I am from that part of the country. That is MY culture. It was just easy to be me and have friends.

Now I'm here. Don't get me wrong. People are VERY friendly. But they are different. And I'm adjusting. Last night was my first "Mom's night out" since moving here. I am a bit attached at the breast to my daughter, so I won't get many of these until she is weaned. But this was a "Pre-Oscar" party at my neighbor's house just down the street, so I figured that I could just run back to my house if Lily woke up screaming and hungry.

"Pre-Oscar Party" basically equates into a "Sit-around-and-chat-about-nothing-party" because seriously...what mom has seen most of the Oscar nominated movies. I didn't even recognize 3 of the 5 supporting actress nominees, and I certainly had never heard of the movies they were in. In Louisville this would not have been a problem...we would have chatted and relaxed and had a great time. And we did the same thing last night...except these people are all from North Jersey. I am not judging. Okay, I'm kind of judging. But I'm not saying they are bad people or not nice people. They are just LOUD. And they talk FAST. And they talk over each other. And no one really listens to what anyone else is saying, unless it happens to be said in the 2 seconds that they are taking a breath. Which rarely happens.

This is more than a bit frustrating for me. I am the middle child...I get great pleasure from telling stories, making comments, etc. that make people laugh. Except I can't be heard in this group of women. Literally. Also, the ladies last night were all in their late 30s, early 40s. Not a big deal. Except the conversation was all about things that happened before my time. Again, not their fault, doesn't make them bad people...just was boring for me.

So moral of the story? I should have waited to have my kids in my 30s. There is no social group for a mom in her 20s. Also, I need to change my role in a group setting. I'm apparently going to be the quiet one, because I cannot compete with my nasally-loud new compatriots. This will be an adjustment. And finally, I need to not hang out with my neighbor, or crowds that include her. I hate to be a judgemental person, but I have noticed that whenever I go to anything that includes this woman and/or her child, I have an awful time and wish I lived back in Kentucky. I have playgroup today, (which she isn't a part of), and I'm sure I'll have a lovely time and feel refreshed and friendly about PA afterward. Isn't that terrible of me? She's not even a horrible person. I won't tell you why she gets to me, because that's even meaner than this mean post.

-sigh- I needed to whine. That's what this free therapy is for...some of the time.

It's so hard to say goodbye

Living far from family SUCKS. In a word.

We just finished a quick weekend with Jeff's parents. Andrew, Lily, and I had lunch out with them, and then they left for the airport from the restaurant. Andrew said goodbye with hugs and kisses in the parking lot. We pulled out to go home and Andrew says, "I love Grandma and Grandpa. I can't wait to see them again so Grandma won't be sad. It's okay to be sad, right? It's okay to cry right? I think I'm going to cry."

And he proceeded to cry the whole way home. Even stoic old, dry-eyed me got worked up with that one. His wails were those of someone with a broken heart. He just loves his Grandma and Grandpa so much...

(BTW...a few minutes into his crying jag, he said to me, "Maybe...maybe...-sob-...when we get home...-cry-...maybe we can watch Bob the Builder. -sob- hiccup- I think that would make me feel better...-cry-" If only all of us could cure homesickness and missing our loved ones with a little episode of Bob the Builder.)

Making a liar out of me

My children are in a plot against me. Lily may only be 4 months old, but somehow Andrew has influenced her already.

See, during the week, it is impossible to get anything productive done. Andrew took 1 nap last week. ONE, people. Lily slept in her crib maybe once a day...her longest nap being 40 minutes. Never, NEVER, did these naps overlap.

This weekend, when there were 4 adults in the house, FOUR people to entertain these little attention-hogs...what did my two little diabolical angels do?

Let's see...Lily took a 3 hour nap Saturday...at the same time her brother slept peacefully in his bed for 2 hours. WTF??? We had to WAKE LILY UP. Huh? My child? The napless wonder. Then again on Sunday, Lily slept in her car seat for well over an hour while her brother took YET ANOTHER NAP.

So Jeff's parents certainly aren't buying my excuses for why the house is a filthy wreck. They probably spent all that free time looking for my hidden bon bon wrappers. Because I am obviously living it up while my children sleep all day!

Mr. Literal

There is no room for exaggeration or joking with a 3 year old. He takes things you say to heart and and their word.

At Christmas, his Uncle Chad greeted him with a rousing, "I like to eat little boys" or something like that. You know...just kidding around. An excuse to tickle. No big deal. Andrew immediately informed his uncle that, "We don't eat people. Just food." For the next day at least this mantra was repeated. I think he's still a little wary when we talk about his cannibalistic uncle.

I should have learned. But in the land of sarcasm and exaggeration that is my house, it is really hard to remember all the time.

Andrew was jumping on my bed a few weekends ago, and grabbed his toy broom. (what, you may ask, is my child doing jumping on my bed? And furthermore, why is there a toy broom readily available next to said bed? If only you could witness the sad state of my house, and you would understand). Anyhoo, I quickly told him that we couldn't jump with things in our hands because we could poke an eye out. Jeff happened to be there, so I told him the story about my neighbor growing up whose older brother actually poked her eye out with a stick. She had a glass eye when she was 9 (or younger...I can't really remember). I wasn't really thinking about Andrew soaking in every word. But for the last week, he asks me 15 times a day, "Do I have 2 eyes, Mom?" He is very concerned about the state of his eyes.

A MONTH ago, Andrew refused to wear socks. I keep our house at a crisp 66 degrees...so it is really too cold to walk around without socks. I told him he'd better watch out, because without socks his toes may turn into Popsicles and Mommy loves to eat Popsicles. Fast forward to Grandma's arrival this weekend. Saturday morning she told Andrew she wanted to put socks on before going downstairs. Andrew's response? "That's good because Mommy likes to eat your toes."

So beware...visitors of Andrew's house. He will believe every word you say!

Sledding

Up the hill!
Get ready, Andrew!
Whoa!
Now with Daddy.
Crash!

Yea! Snow! Okay, so our grass isn't even covered, but yesterday there was no school and enough snow to go sledding. Where does the neighborhood go to sled? Our backyard. Well, technically it is part our yard, mostly the community lot just next to our property.

It is the perfect sledding hill. Perfect. Not too high so you get tired out climbing up it over and over, not so low that it is lame. Fast. Not too scary. Unless you're scared of the cars that may hit you if you go fast enough into the street at the bottom. Or scared of crashing into one of our pear trees at the bottom of the hill. Apparently, children are not scared of cars or trees, however. I have had several small heart attacks watching these little kids barrel down the hill and miss cars driving down the street by mere feet. Yikes. Oh, their parents aren't with them. To be fair, our street is not very busy. Probably only 1 or 2 cars every 20 minutes or so. Good odds. If you're a kid. I came in from shoveling our driveway and expressed my worries to Jeff. His response? "Survival of the fittest". Lovely.

Anyhoo, while I'm not worrying about dead kids in my front lawn, I've been having a blast with Andrew out in the snow. He LOVES it. This kid may have been born in California, but he was made to live in the cold. This kid hated sand and salt water at the beach this summer. He could CARE LESS when snow gets up his sleeves and down his neck. Weirdo. Some really nice boys helped Andrew take his very first sled ride yesterday. I was so touched. And they played snow fight with him, pretending to run away and never firing back at him. I hope Andrew is that nice when he is 10 (my FIL pointed out that they HAVE to be nice...this is the kid whose parents own the sledding hill...better suck up. Good point).

Today Jeff got out one of the many sleds the previous owner of our house left behind for us in our attic. It is a SWEET sled. Much nicer than anything I would shell out money for. He and Andrew went sled riding this afternoon. So daggone cute. Some highlights:

1) I desperately wanted to get some pictures of Andrew sledding. So I left Lily screaming in the house and run out with my camera. I'm standing at the bottom of the hill and Jeff sends Andrew alone on the sled towards me. I snap a photo and get the heck out of the way. Andrew zooms past me and crashes into our house. Jeff is standing at the top of the hill with a shocked look on his face. Apparently I was supposed to stop our 3 year old's momentum. Oops. Instinct has taught me to move out of the way. Mother's intuition is supposed to take over at that point. But I never claimed to be a good mother...

2) Shadow is seriously distressed by all the foot traffic in our yard the last 2 days. Not to mention the scary sleds and yucky snow. She is definitely a California native. My favorite Shadow moment yesterday...she purposefully walked to the middle of the sledding hill and dropped a deuce. Looking at the sledders very meaningfully. As if to say, "Ride through my shit, you trespassers". Today, she was so upset about Andrew going down the hill. I took her inside after she almost got plowed over by Andrew's sled...she refused to get out of the way...I think she was trying to get to him. Inside she just ran frantically between the windows whenever she saw Andrew, whining pitifully. Poor thing.

3) Jeff told me that Andrew walked up to the little boys today, gave them a thumbs up and said, "I have really fast running shoes". We are really worried he's not going to have any friends.

So it's been a fun few days. I realized that I don't own any boots. None. Never occurred to me to buy any. Too bad there are only swimsuits in the stores right now. Damn merchandising...always a season ahead...not good for non-shoppers like myself. Also, found out that Andrew's winter coat is too small. Never noticed the gaps at his wrists until I saw snow sticking to his chunky little wrists. Poor guy. Again, he doesn't care.

Hope you all are enjoying winter! I'll bet most of you can't see your grass when you sled!

Got static?

We have a lot of static electricity in our house. Can you tell?

Happy Valentine's Day

We are NOT a Valentine's Day kind of couple. Despite phone calls from his mother every year, Jeff never quite got the hint that women like to be spoiled on this day.

Until we had Andrew. Now every Valentine's Day there is a card from my boy. This year, there was candy for me outside Lily's room, candy and a card from Andrew (A card with a big picture of salami on the outside...Jeff wrote inside, Happy Valentine's day, Mommy-salami--one of Andrew's favorite rhymes right now...cute, eh?), and a card and box of candy from Jeff.

Jeff had already left for work. Andrew brought me the heart shaped box of chocolates from Jeff. I looked at the box. Elmer's chocolates? Jeff's doing better, but he has this terrible habit of picking out obscure chocolate brands that end up tasting more like cardboard than chocolate. So the conversation went like this:

Andrew- Mommy, Daddy got you these chocolates.
Giselle- Oh, isn't he a good husband! Wait a minute! Elmer's?!?! Daddy has such terrible taste in chocolates. These probably won't taste very good.
A- They will taste good Mommy, because I picked them out.
G- (stammering) Oh....well I didn't know YOU picked them...they must be delicious. Give me a big hug. (Big Dumb Mommy Moment)

Oops. Now it makes sense. This box has a picture of a cartoon bear hugging a heart on it. I can see the struggle in the drugstore as Jeff tries to purchase a box of yummy Russell-Stover...but that box is plain old red. That's no fun! We should pick out the one with the teddy bear on it! Seems to me I need to learn to keep my mouth shut...especially when choosing whether or not to eat the things my son picks out.

Happy Valentine's Day!

BTW...it's Andrew's 3rd day of school...and it was called off for snow. I never had this kind of luck with school snow days. Too bad he misses his first V-day party...at least he doesn't know what he's missing.

My new blue house

I really like my new house. My new blue house...that's what Andrew calls it. I imagine that even after we've lived here for 5 years, we'll still call it our new blue house.

I can't really explain why I like it so much. Our house in Louisville was BEAUTIFUL. SPACIOUS. Actually 1000 sq ft more spacious. Our neighborhood was a DREAM.

The only way I can reason it...this house reminds me of me. It fits me. It is non-descript. It isn't showy. It creaks and groans even though it is still a young house. Not very well made. Decorating is a bit non-existent. Needs a make-over desperately. Is kind of like a million other houses you've ever seen.

Just like me. Except substitute person instead of house. I've gained a bit of weight over the years, but I'm not to the point of calling myself a house yet. Yet, people.

So you see, I relate to this house on a cellular level. I feel comfortable in this house. I never felt worthy of the Louisville house. I couldn't decorate or furnish it the way it deserved...I was a bit intimidated by it. This house doesn't ask for much... Oh, and it helps that it is laid out very similarly to my parents' house...the one I grew up in. It's smaller, but somehow I think this contributes to it feeling like home to me.

So good job, Jeff, Linda, and Paul. I like my new blue house. I like it so much, I'd like to stay here longer than 18 months. Okay?

Good Mommy (for a day)

Those of you mothers out there may be able to relate to my day today. It was a "good Mommy" day. Okay, so some of you are probably just actually good Mommies. Not posers like myself. But every once in a while I get a glimpse of what life must be like for those children who have actual good mommies.

Andrew had school today, so I knew we needed a slow kind of morning. I'll tell you all about Andrew's school some other day...today is about my good mommy day. Anyway, I knew we needed a slow morning so Andrew would have enough juice left for his afternoon school time. It's rough going to afternoon preschool when you are used to being in your bed asleep during that time. I jest. He rarely sleeps anymore. But at least in your room having "quiet time". I jest yet again. In your room throwing books and toys, playing with the blinds, and jumping on the bed while your mother hides downstairs pretending that you are sleeping so she doesn't have to look at you for an hour or two. Yea...that's about right.

So...a slow morning. I SUCK at slow mornings. I hear about other mothers and how much fun they have with pajama days. Just hanging out at home. Not me. Although my job title is "Stay-at-home-mother", there is nothing more I dread than the prospect of staying at home. It's rather like a doctor of internal medicine getting queasy at the thought of internal organs or a very dirty cleaning lady. I'm a bit of an oxymoron. Or at least the moron part. :)

Are you lost in this story yet? I seem to be writing in the stream of consciousness style this evening.

Andrew woke up at the blessedly late hour of 7:30. That gave me 40 minutes alone with my little morning dove. She is such a happy thing in the morning. Andrew got up, we ate breakfast. And then the first good mommy thing happened. I gave my kids a bath.

That's right...a bath. Both of them. Not together, but both of them. See, I'm a terrible mother. I don't bathe my children very much. It just gets away from me. In the winter I can blame it on dry skin...it's for their own good. I don't have much of an excuse in the summer...but they swim in the pool, so most the dirt gets washed off by chemicals and people don't notice. Damn gym class for Andrew puts stamps on their hands...so I have to bathe him in time for the next class, or else they'll notice that my poor neglected kid still has last week's stamp on him.

So...score one for Mommy...baths! They even got lotion on afterwards. 2 points.

Then Lily took a nap...in her crib. And rather than do the dishes, check my e-mail or just generally daydream, I played with Andrew. We practiced using scissors and cut out pictures from magazines and pasted them onto construction paper. Lily woke up, and we used some yarn from sewing cards to make obstacle courses. We played zooming Lily (which involved zooming Lily at Andrew over and over and over). We only watched 30 minutes of TV. We laughed, we cried, we had a great time together. What bonding! What learning! What fun! And then we had lunch and went to school. I was less good when Andrew came back from school, but no matter because I was still glowing from my maternal magnificence of the morning.

Sad, isn't it? I feel like it was such a good day just because I played with my kid and made him clean. I know some of you are shocked. You may even want to post a comment pretending like you are equally poor mothers. I appreciate the sentiment. I don't feel guilty about my "normal" days...dirty kids and wandering on errands just to get out of the house. That's just how I am. Andrew seems happy and well-adjusted. He obviously doesn't need me, so I'm good enough a mother for him. But as tired as I am this evening, I salute you, Mothers-who-regularly-are-exceptional. You are better women than me.

On the schedule for tomorrow? Nothing. YIKES! I'd better think of some pointless task to get us out of the house! I can't pull off two days of creative parenting in a row. I wouldn't want to raise the bar ;)

Happy Birthday, Daddy!

No, it's not Jeff's birthday. It's sad that he does get called Dad most of the time by me when then kids are around. This post is about my ACTUAL, original Dad. You know...the one that's known me for almost 30 years.

My dad turns 60 today. S-I-X-T-Y. Doesn't that seem old? He doesn't. He's so youthful, that one of his best friends is my 3 year old. Seriously...they are on the same page. He doesn't repeat stories over and over, he very rarely needs a cane, and his teeth don't pop out (only because he has crowns holding them all in). Sure his hair is silver and his ears/eyebrows/nose hairs are trying to take over his face. But my dad is young at heart, and it shows every day...in all his weird ways.

So let me tell you about my dad.

1) He has an amazingly optimistic outlook on life. He was born the 3rd of 8 kids, and sandwiched in between no less (15 mos younger and 11 mos older than his closest siblings). He struggled through school and was...shall we say...an awkward teenager. Yet he looks back and finds humor in his past. I can't help but think if someone else was in his shoes, they would blame their parents etc etc, making excuses for present behaviors. But my dad has persevered...he works so hard and he is incredibly good at maneuvering through life. My sister's inherited this work ethic...I can only admire from the sidelines.

2) He loves his family and he's the ultimate care-taker. My dad has always worked hard. And there was never a moment of doubt in my mind that his family would always come first. Looking back, I don't know how he fit in those 4-square games, or countless board games, but we were well taken care of. Nothing makes a child more secure than knowing you come first. And I love that he calls separate to talk, because he really wants to talk to me...not just listen through my mom's ears. Oh, and he loves my mother. I mean like newlyweds. I always have thought of him as my mother's bulldog. He doesn't even need to know what happened...he's there defending my mother. Talk about setting high standards. I didn't know if I'd ever find someone that would treat me as well as my father treats my mother.

3) He loves to spoil us...and surprise us. Mom and Dad would/will tell us that we are independent people with money of our own...and on the way out the door, Dad will slip a $20 in our pockets. He's constantly giving all that he has. I still remember when he helped us out when we were in a pickle in CA...he knows I don't like to accept money, so he attached a note, "Please accept this help. All I ask in return is that someday you help your children when they need it." How can I refuse that?

4) So he is the best dad in the world. But he's an even better grandpa. He is adored by all his grandchildren. No one lights up Andrew like his Pepere... I caught him saying something silly to Lily the other day. He then told her, "Pepere talks like that. He's silly." Setting up for another grandchild to ADORE their Pepere.

This is getting long. I could probably write a whole book about how wonderful my father is. I know he thinks that he's been replaced in my heart by Jeff and Andrew and Lily. But no one can ever replace him...he's still got a hold of a huge piece of my heart. That's why it's so hard to live so far away...I miss him. There are certain things that no one will ever do as well as my Dad...things that will never be as fun without him around. I used to be a game-a-holic. But the longer I live away from my Dad, the less I play. I now realize that it isn't the game that I love...it's the time with Dad. So playing without him seems a little hollow...a little pointless. What can I say...I'm still a Daddy's girl!

I love you Dad! Happy Birthday!

Favoritism

I love having a little boy. And I love having a little girl...more than I ever thought I could. One of my favorite reasons for having one of each? I can keep calling Andrew "My favorite little boy" because Lily gets to be "My favorite little girl".

This morning, Andrew was making me laugh (as usual). Want to know why? Shadow pooped in Andrew's play room, and I was cleaning it up. Andrew says, "Shadow plays for the Poopers". Maybe this isn't as funny to you all...but Andrew is always relating everything to sports. We were playing soccer a few weeks ago, and Andrew's nose was running all over the place. I said he played for the "boogers". Now he makes up sports teams all the time. Shadow playing for the Poopers cracked me up. What can I say? I'm still a sucker for the potty humor.

ANYHOO, I was laughing and I told Andrew he is my favorite boy in the whole wide world.
He said, "What about Lily?".
G- "She's my favorite GIRL in the whole wide world."
A-"Yes, but who's your favorite, Lily or me?"
G-"Do I have to choose? I don't think I can. Why do I have to choose?"
A-"Because your favorite will be your superhero."
G-"Well, I think I need a boy superhero and a girl superhero, so can you both be my superheros?"
A-"Yea, that's okay."

Phew. Dodged that one. I didn't think the whole favorite thing would come out so early. I'll have to get out that book my friend Angie got me at my baby shower, You're All My Favorites, by Sam McBratney.

The truth of the matter is, I honestly don't favor one over the other. Maybe it's because Lily is too little to really have a personality yet. My mom always said she didn't have a favorite, and I just thought she was lying. But I can't imagine loving one of my children more than the other. Lily has only been here 4 months, and she has captured a piece of my heart just a big as Andrew's piece. Sure, I have more memories of Andrew...heck, he'll always be 3 years ahead of Lily. Sure Andrew did things "first". But by some miracle of miracles, Lily has just weaseled her way in. I compare the two all the time...but not in a judgemental way. Just in wonderment that two little people can be so different at such a young age.

So it's true! Andrew IS my favorite little boy in the whole world. And Lily IS my favorite little girl in the whole world. No questions. No doubts.

Irrisistible Lily

So I had a dentist appointment this morning. There is a very strong family gene that makes going to the dentist akin to disemboweling or some other form of torture. I have miraculously escaped this family phobia. Actually, it may just be my mother and sister Kate. I don't know if my dad or Andrea hate the dentist quite that much.

I digress. I made an appointment because I haven't been to the dentist since we lived in California. So it's been almost 2 years. I have bad enamel and all four of my wisdom teeth are still in, so I like to go frequently to keep an eye on all this.

I dreaded going because the kids were going to have to come with me. What else am I supposed to do?

We normally have playgroup on Friday mornings. Last Friday, the mom hosting this week offered to take Andrew while I went to the dentist. BONUS! It helps that Andrew is virtually flawless at each playgroup. (And he was fantastic this morning...all the mom's were sure to compliment him when I got back...good boy!)

No one wanted Lily. Not because she isn't irresistibly cute. Or well behaved. It's because if she gets hungry...nobody but me can help her. That makes potential sitters very nervous...which I understand.

So I timed it perfectly. I kept her up all morning and fed her just before we left to drop Andrew off. Surely she would fall asleep in the car and then take a nice long nap in her car seat, enabling me to get my teeth cleaned. No such luck. She was WIDE awake by the time we got to the dentist. And she was acting very tired, but wouldn't sleep the whole time we were there. I was ready to just reschedule because how are they going to look in my mouth if I have to hold Lily the whole time? (because she will NOT stay in her car seat without crying...stubborn)

I ask the receptionist if I can reschedule, and she says, "Nonsense! I'll hold her!" This is after the same woman swooned over Lily for 5 minutes after we walked in. I felt really bad interrupting her work day, but she insisted. "It's Friday, after all. If I get busy I'll just give her to someone else." And that's what happened. As I'm getting my x-rays and teeth checked I hear the hygienists passing Lily around. She's squealing and giggling as they coo at her and bounce her around. I didn't end up getting my teeth cleaned...it took so long to x-ray and check all my sealants and crowns. And since I have to go in to get a filling or two anyway, they're just going to clean my teeth then. I'll be sure to leave Lily at home for the fillings...but now I feel kind of guilty. Those ladies sure had fun with my baby girl. They thanked ME as I was leaving...I felt so apologetic that they had to babysit during my appointment...they assured me it was a pleasure.

She is irresistible!

Perfectly perfect!

Miss Lillian had a doctor's appointment today. She is perfectly perfect!

14lbs 5oz (50th percentile)

24 1/2 inches (50th percentile)

for those interested, at 4 months Andrew was 17 pounds and 26 inches

So she's perfectly proportionate. Doctor said that no napping is normal when they sleep all night...and who can really complain. Amen! Belly looked good, heart sounded great, lungs clear, hips all good...and she cooed and smiled her way right into the doctor's heart. Both the doctor and the nurse just cuddled her and loved her. It must be a great job if you love babies. Lily got 4 shots...which she was very pissed about...and she was just fine a few minutes later. We went to Andrew's My Gym class right afterward, and she babbled and smiled through it like always. You'd never guess she's just played pincushion with the nurse.

So let's all sigh and thank the heavens above for such a healthy, normal baby. I don't deserve it more than anyone else, and I'm so greatful for both my healthy babies. Does anything else really matter if they're healthy?

As a side note, Andrew was phenomenal at the doctor's office. I thanked him for being so well-behaved and he said, "So I should get a sucker, right Mom?" Always looking for an angle, this kid. He also did his very first unassisted somersault today!!! I know that most 18 month olds can probably do this, but I was VERY excited to watch him do it.

Oh, just one more funny Andrew story. Yesterday we were playing with his cell phone (my old old one). I got a call from Burger King and chatted for a while. Andrew thought that was pretty cool. Then I talked to Chuck E Cheese. Andrew couldn't think up anyone, so he also talked to Burger King and Chuck E Cheese. He informed me that Burger King was putting me in jail. So I pretended to get really mad, and declared that we are NEVER going to Burger King's restaurant again. I could literally see the wheels turning in Andrew's head as he panicked over this prospect. It's like you could hear him thinking, "Oh crap. Think fast. Mom's gotta take us back to that delicious restaurant." He patted my arm and said, "No, Mom. Burger King was just teasing. He wasn't really going to put you in jail."

Frustrations of a control freak turned Mommy

Aren't my kids cute? You don't have to answer...I'll think what I think no matter the critics ;) One of the blessings of a mother...to believe your kid is the cutest out there. And the smartest. And the most clever.

THIS mother is getting mighty frustrated with her 3 year old, however. 3 years 2 months to be exact. Doesn't he look so grown up in the pictures? He speaks so well, he's so tall, he's got a great sense of empathy and humor...and he still poops in his pants. And pees. I had my children 3 years apart with the expectation that I would have only one child in diapers at a time. Uh, no dice. I am getting so FRUSTRATED...and all the books and the doctors tell me to just let it go. I know that logically, very few "normal" children aren't potty trained by the time they are 5. I also know that my son can hold his excrement, knows when he goes, etc. I know he KNOWS what he's supposed to do. Potty training books are written for 2 year olds. My child is coherent and logical, and he understands. He just doesn't want to.

So I try to not mention it. I try to do things the books suggest.

1)I put the diapers and wipes into a drawer and made Andrew get them for me each time. Theory: diaper changing=work, therefore child will want to go potty. Nope. Andrew is so proud of himself for helping me.

2) I let Andrew pick out cool underpants. Actually, we've done this 3 times. A year ago, he picked out Thomas. 6 months ago he picked out Matchbox cars. At Christmas, he received Cars movie underpants. So excited when they're in the package. Take them out? Andrew SCREAMS. He REFUSES to wear them. To even touch them.

3) Watch Daddy pee...he idolizes Daddy. Intended result: be like Daddy...pee in potty. Actual result: Daddy's cool...I want him to change my diaper instead of Mommy.

4) Make child dump his poops into the potty so he will start to get that poops go in the potty...also the grossness factor may make him want to skip the middle step and just put poops directly in, bypassing diaper altogether. Actual result: Complete and utter refusal. Crosses arms and flat out refuses to even look at that disgusting diaper. I can't blame him. That's why I"M so frustrated for God's sake!!!

5) Put underpants on and let child pee on themselves until they get the idea. Did you read #2? There is no putting underpants on this kid. So we've tried nothing on...he just pees on the floor/chair/whatever. Points at himself non-chalantly and says, "Mom, I peed." Naked this summer...pooped on the deck...could've cared less.

Feel free to offer suggestions. At this point, I really don't think ANYTHING will work. I don't want to do timeouts...that puts a negative connotation on potty. But does it matter? Doesn't he already feel negative about the potty? Oh, and yes, we have a little potty. He's too big for it now. Yes, we have special seats for the potty. Doesn't care. What else might you suggest? Candy bribes? Worked for a day...but my child doesn't like sweets enough for that to be a motivator.

As a little Post Scrip:

I realize that in about 10-15 years I will be remembering this first struggle with my son fondly. I understand that frustrations with your children grow as they grow...that potty training is a cinch compared to all adolescent issues. I acknowledge that. And I am still frustrated as hell. ;)

More Andrew stories

I'm sorry if this is getting monotonous...Andrew is just cracking me up lately, and I really want to write this stuff down. For my own sake, you know?

We had guests for dinner to watch the Superbowl Sunday. And for the first time ever, Jeff and I realized with wonder how great it is to have people over when they bring a playmate for Andrew over. Matthew and Andrew get along GREAT, and Andrew is finally at the age where he really enjoys other children's attention more than adults. Matthew is a year younger, so he isn't quite at that stage yet...but Andrew doesn't seem to notice. It was loads of fun.

This morning at breakfast, Andrew was whispering something. I asked him to speak up. He said, "I love Mommy. I love Daddy. I love Lily. I love Shadow. I love Matthew. I love Matthew's mommy. I love Matthew's daddy. I love Memere. I love Pepere. I love Grandma. I love Grandpa." Funny little guy.

We visited his new pre-school today. We got a call last week that they had an opening in their 2 year old program. It is in the afternoon ;P...but since Andrew's only been napping about 3 days out of 7, I jumped at the chance to get him some social interaction. So we went to visit and meet his teachers today. He was so SHY (partly because he'd stayed up so late for Superbowl last night). Anyway, he was hiding behind my legs, and the teacher asked him if he'd like to play with some of the toys on the floor. He sticks his head out from behind me and says, "I'm only VISITING today." So there. He also informed them that the Colts won and the Bears lost. They got a real kick out of that. I felt like saying...oh, that's only the tip of the Andrew iceberg...but I refrained.

We had lunch today, and when I served Andrew he said, and I quote, "Mommy, this looks fabulous. -pause- You should write that in my calendar." We have created such an ego-maniac. But you know what...? I went over and wrote that in his calendar. As I'm writing it, I read out loud what I'm writing. Andrew says, "Write incredible instead of fabulous, Mom". Like he wants to edit his cute sayings for posterity sake. Weirdo.

Jeff came home just after Andrew woke up from his nap. He had to run right back out to visit our insurance agent...and Andrew wanted to go with him. You have to understand that Jeff is like a celebrity when he gets home from work. Andrew is ECSTATIC. He goes from staring at his boring mother all day...whom he has to share with a baby, to having this incredibly cool man at his beck and call. I mean, Dad plays Goofy Skateboarding with him! How cool is that. So Jeff runs back out the door, and Andrew is just standing there, dejected, with tears in his eyes. I knew Jeff would be back in 15 minutes or so, so I managed to get Andrew to help me make Daddy a smoothie to get his mind off the abandonment. Turns out smoothies don't taste so good when it's 5 degrees outside. But it was the thought that counts, right?

So we have our little chart Andrew's been working on? For a week we've been waiting for Andrew to eat 2 new foods so we can FINALLY go to Chuck E Cheese. He did it...during dinner tonight. And guess what? He wanted to go RIGHT NOW. It's going to take a lot of convincing and distracting to make him wait until dinner tomorrow. I kind of didn't think this whole thing through.

And so she doesn't feel left out...here's a Lily story. I played peek a boo with her today...and she LOVED it. She doesn't have object permanence yet, so she thinks I disappear every time that diaper goes in front of my face. Imagine her shock and amazement when Mommy reappears magically! Giggles and squeals ensue. She is so daggone cute!!! And she is learning how to just charm from across the room. Apparently she flirts with people when she's in her Baby Bjorn. Because I CANNOT get through a store without a zillion people coming up to talk to her. And while I impatiently smile and make small talk (all the while trying to keep tabs on the 3 year old running through the store), Lily is chatting it up with strangers, melting them with her 100 kW smile.

Football hell

Ugh...Superbowl. Or, since I haven't paid to use that phrase, "The Big Game." We are having people over to distract me from the fact that football has been on all day. How can you have 6 hours of programming BEFORE the actual game begins? This was just on the TV a moment ago:

"Yes, folks, that's Peyton Manning arriving at the stadium. Those Booos you hear are from the Bears fans present."

Okay, first of all, the frickin' quarterback is just showing up. Why have I been subjected to 4 hours of football TV ALREADY when at this moment the quarterback...who is actually going to play in the game, decides he needs to be there? Secondly, what kind of moron can't figure out that it's the Bears fans Boooing? Seriously...it's not like I'm there. I might be booing the moronic announcer. But if you are standing outside the Miami stadium...you probably like football. And if you are booing...you probably aren't a Colts fan. But I understand this is the kind of stellar journalism you get when people are forced to fill a day's worth of programming before the actual 3 hour event. (did you notice that I know Manning plays for the Colts? Oh yea, I'm up to speed. Be impressed, people, be very impressed)

-sigh- Nothing irks me more than sports on TV incessantly. I don't mind one game. Actually, I kind of mind, but I understand that it is a past time, some people enjoy it, I put up with it. But this...this...hype.

And now I have no standing to ask Jeff to turn it off. Andrew is totally hooked on football. And hype is the best kind of football...just lots of clips of touchdowns. All action, no dead time. He's been watching all day. He's convinced the Giants are going to win. No amount of explaining who is actually playing can persuade Andrew that the Giants aren't going to win. That's what happens when there are two teams playing and neither of them wear red.

Heck, even Lily is addicted. Well, she actually just wants to watch TV in general. It has become her life goal to get ADD. She is seriously going to have neck problems because we turn her away from the TV and she STRAINS to watch it. She thinks she's an owl. It's actually the only way I get her to do tummy time. She's allowed to watch TV if she is working on her tummy.

-sigh- At least it's over tomorrow, right? Oh, wait. Andrew reminds me that then there's basketball and hockey to watch.

-sigh-

Job review

I killed a rogue fly this morning. Who knows how he has survived the cold weather and managed to find his way into the house. Andrew was very concerned about this fly, even though I promised that flies don't bite or sting.

After I killed it, Andrew hugged my legs and said "Mommy, you are my hero!"

I never had a boss before to say that!

PJ and Cheeto-Leeto

Andrew has two best friends, PJ and Cheeto-Leeto. Cheeto-Leeto is a white bear with hearts on his hands and feet that Andrew got for Valentine's Day 2005. PJ is an elephant with hearts on his hands and feet that Andrew got for Valentine's Day 2006. Why these are his two favorite stuffed animals, I'll never know. But he LOVES them.

He named them one day, and I wish I knew where the names came from. PJ is a girl (he is very particular that we use only female pronouns for PJ) and is quite the trouble maker. PJ is always telling Andrew to do naughty things. Andrew will frequently tell us, "But PJ told me to throw that." or "PJ doesn't think we have to go to bed yet. PJ wants to stay awake." PJ is definitely a bad influence.

Cheeto-Leeto's name is a sign that my father's genes are hidden in this boy somewhere. Seriously, could anyone other than my father think of a name like this? Actually, I should check with my dad...maybe he did name this bear, and Andrew just remembers it. Hmmmm,... Anyhow, Cheeto-Leeto is a boy (also very particular about this). Cheeto-Leeto frequently gets on Andrew's nerves. Cheeto-Leeto is often in time out on our steps. Cheeto-Leeto is also frequently found thrown across the room after nap/night time sleeps. Apparently, Cheeto-Leeto does things that annoys Andrew, so gets kicked out of bed. Cheeto-Leeto does not seem to get Andrew into trouble...he just gets in trouble with Andrew.

So there you have it! My boy's best friends! Don't worry, we have him enrolled in pre-school for next year. Hopefully he'll find some human best friends...and he won't even get to name them!