Little guy

How about an update on Michael? I feel sometimes like I need a blog for each of my 3 children. I just can't keep up with all the stories and happenings for each of them. I have an entire blog of material for Lily, easily. But since I can't even keep writing for this blog, I'd better not start another.

So...Michael is going to be 4 months in just 10 days. Oh, how he is changing.

--found his feet yesterday...just kept reaching down and grabbing them...so pleased with himself.

--he's sucking his thumb a lot lately. He likes the pacifier when we're cuddling him to sleep, but he just won't keep it in himself. He spits the thing out immediately if we're not holding it in. But the thumb seems to be growing on him.

--the giggles...oh, the giggles. He is quite ticklish, so that is the easiest way. But as the days pass, he seems to find other things funny. He sneezed the other day and that made him giggle. Dancing with him makes him giggle. Pat-a-cake can make him giggle.

--(shhh, come closer...he's slept 8 hour in a row for 2 nights now...and since he's doing so well, I think we'll go on vacation tomorrow and ruin it).

--His favorite place to be is in the thick of things. Nothing is more fascinating that people. Toys are a waste of time...he'd rather watch his siblings or parents. And such a happy little thing. Doesn't have a fussy time like the other two did. And he's tough. Lily fell on top of him the other day (she was spinning around to make herself dizzy while I changed his bedsheet...I swear, turn your back for 1 second...), and Michael cried, but he recovered very quickly. He's just happy.

I swear to you, I couldn't love this kid any more than I do. And he is so in love with me. It's good to be the milk-maker. We were walking in to drop Andrew off at camp yesterday, and Michael was looking up at me from the stroller. A woman I don't know, walking in behind me commented, "Oh. Just look at how he gazes at you and smiles. He's in love."

Prayer

Sadly, we are not a religious family. We don't go to church and we don't pray before meals, etc. Andrew seems to have a natural religious streak in him, so we will probably start going for his sake. He does get exposed to it at nursery school, which leads us to moments like the one last night.

We went to the cute downtown of our little PA town to try and get some reading material from the local bookstore (trying to support small businesses instead of Borders, etc. etc). We decided to try out a new pizza place that opened within walking distance of the book store. Andrew had noticed them building this place over the course of many months, and was excited to see what it looked like inside. We sat down to eat and our conversation went something like this:

A: Mom, is this a new building?
M: Yes, remember when we watched them build it?
A: I think we should pray before we eat at this new place.
M: That sounds really nice Andrew.
A: I'll be the talker.
Andrew reaches for both Jeff and my hands, then closes his eyes and very seriously prays...
"God, this is a new place. We really like it. We won't wreck it so it can stay new." He looked up and we all said "Amen"...while Jeff and I stifled giggles.

I think it's time to go to church.

We're going to the beach!!!

We leave for the beach in 4 days. My parents and my sisters and me are all cramming together in a huge beach house for a week of fun in the sun. I repeat...we leave in FOUR DAYS. Right now that is equal parts Woo-hoo and Yikes. I am not...shall we say...packed and ready. All that I've done to prepare so far is create a list of things that we need to bring. And it is so long and scary that is just makes me NOT want to pack. Plus, packing with little kids around is a joke (no, you can't have that, it's for vacation), and you can't do it too far in advance because the stuff you are packing is stuff they use every day...which is why you need to haul it all across the country. So Thursday should be fun.

And, yes, we are hauling all of our crap all the way to South Carolina even though we live literally 90 minutes from the Atlantic Ocean. Why drive 13 hours instead of 1? Because the beach my family goes to is a little piece of heaven. And heaven is worth a 13 hour drive with 3 kids. Which won't be so bad because my parents are coming here first (did you realize that Philly is in between Ohio and South Carolina? No? Not so much? Are you yet again amazed and jealous at the awesomeness of my parents? Did I mention they are also paying IN FULL for the beach house that we will all be staying at? No? I can hear you turning green.). And then we are splitting the 3 kids up between cars and caravaning down there. And I get the "easy" car (Michael), while Jeff and my dad get the "challenging" car (sing along CD's, DVD's, passing snacks, finding the correct Elmo book for Lily, etc). All because Michael and I are attached at the breast...so I just HAVE to be in the car with the baby. ;) Score another PRO for breastfeeding!

I'm so excited...just so excited. I can't wait to bring Andrew back and take him searching for crabs and seashells and maybe even turtle nests. I can't wait to show it to Lily for the first time and watch her power walk into the waves and eat sand (at home she finds it a delicacy). And the bike riding! I think the kids will really enjoy it...although maybe not as much as Jeff and I will. Michael probably won't enjoy it much, but he's at such an easy stage, we'll just drag him along and try to keep him in the shade as much as possible. Honestly, I don't think there is an easier stage than 4 months. Still just drinking breastmilk (he doesn't get any formula anymore), so no food or gear to bring for that, not crawling or walking, great vision so he's constantly entertained by just looking around. Sleeping enough that Mommy doesn't feel like keeling over every day. Lovely. And I hope I've not just cursed myself.

While we're there, we will hit the 1 year anniversary of that fateful pregnancy test. Worst. Night. Ever. And look how great that turned out. There will be much retrospection on my part, remembering how incredibly freaked out I was then and how incredibly down to my soul happy I am now. What a difference a year makes! We will also celebrate our 9th wedding anniversary while we're there. So no sappy wedding post like I usually do (do I usually? It seems like I might)...I'll store it up and make a real doozy for the 10th anniversary. Anyway, 9 doesn't seem like a very big thing when "10" is just a year away. That sounds much more impressive.

Enough of this rambling post. I should be PACKING, damnit. -sigh- I just know it isn't going to happen until Thursday anyway.

Our family...a few weeks ago

Because family photos are so rare...here's one...too bad my kids refuse to smile for the camera. (thanks Michelle, for taking this one of us!)

Let's compare...

For those of you who like to compare siblings, I submit the following:

My children, at 3 1/2 months of age.


First, comes Andrew, in March of 2004. Chunky monkey. Notice the baskets of organized educational and stimulating toys in the background of the second photo. Notice later on that the subsequent children have no such stimulus and are in fact in bouncers or bumpo seats. Lucky 1st child.

Next, Lily in January of 2007. Seriously, it looks as if we adopted from an Asian country. And could her cheeks be ANY ROUNDER?

And, finally, Michael. Earlier this month. Definitely my skinniest kid.



I don't know...I just think they all look so different. Could just be the size difference (and the cheeks, by God, Lily, the CHEEKS). All stinkin' cute, though. It's too bad we're done having kids...

A New Lifestyle, or, Just Kill Me Now

Monday started a new lifestyle. I will not call it a diet, because that word is just DIE with a little "t" on the end...and rightly so.



Let's start off by saying that this isn't the first time I've tried to change myself. As you can see here, it was my New Year's Resolution for 2006! But I was mercifully let off the hook by getting pregnant a few weeks into January. (Ironically, I actually lost 10 pounds in the first trimester of that pregnancy. Apparently involuntary bulimia works for me!) I have a problem with my attention span. I am usually really good about curbing my bad eating...for about a week. And then when I do my first weigh in, there are never results, so I get bored, and there you have it.



I have a problem. Here's my weight gaining history...

I've been steadily gaining weight since August of 1977. My lowest weight so far has been 9 lbs 5 oz...but I was up to 120 by high school graduation. By college graduation/marriage time, I was 140. The first years in California really kicked my ass...actually really GREW my ass...and I was 165. 3 pregnancies...and my highest weight was at 193...which was just this past April! And in 3 months, I've gone from 193 to 165 again. But since I don't think I can push out another baby and lose 30 pounds (without getting pregnant again, that is), now I have to work to get back down to 140. I'm not kidding myself that I can get back to high school shape. Seriously, these hips will never be the same again. But 140 was a good weight. I think I was a size 10. That's reasonable, right?

So I know this is boring...I just wanted to write down...for the record...that I'm trying to do this again. And every time I feel hungry, I just think, "No, this is your body wanting to be fat." Because, honestly, how can I be hungry? Lily seriously eats a yogurt for breakfast, and applesauce for lunch, and a few handfuls of Cheerios for dinner. She NEVER acts hungry, and she's still growing up. I'm not growing...so why do I need 3 square meals plus sundae's? And don't even give me the "breastfeeding" BS. Unless Michael requires milk shakes, I don't need to be eating so many sweets and snacks. ;)

So exercise is still out of the questions, although it is certainly a goal. But until I can use the bathroom by myself for 30 seconds, I don't foresee having time to exercise during the day. And I can't physically get up any earlier and I'm ZONKED by the time Lily and Andrew go to bed. So I'll give myself some time on that. For now, I'm keeping a "food diary", which works only if I am honest with myself. I'm doing good so far, but I know next week I'll sneak a Snickers bar and just "forget" to write it down. Lovely. I'm trying to not graze in the afternoon, and I'm definitely limiting my hot fudge allowance.

I just reward myself with sweets and snacks. I'm having a rough day? I CRAVE brownies, candy, cake, etc. They make me feel better. So any suggestions on what else I can reward myself with are welcome. And I swear if any of you suggest going for a jog to "reward" myself I will hunt you down and beat you with my ice cream scooper. Don't test me...I'm hungry.

By the way, what is the likelihood that I will actually exersize when I can't even SPELL exersize. Thank God for spell check!

A year ago...a year from now

Hmmm, a great blog I read inspired me to do this little exercise. I am finding it fun to just think about, so I thought I'd actually write it down.

A year ago I had a 3 1/2 year old and an 9 month old. I had just weaned Lily the month before, so I was enjoying drinking summery alcoholic beverages and letting other people feed her bottles. I had just gotten back from my first trip to NYC ever! I was either not pregnant or just not aware of it yet...certainly a 3rd child was the furthest thing from my mind. Heavens, Lily had JUST started crawling! She looked like this. Never in a million years would I have imagined she would be the middle child soon! I was starting to focus on losing a little bit of myself...specifically the fatty parts in the middle and rear.

A year from now I will have a 5 1/2 year old about to start kindergarten (yikes), a 2 1/2 year old maybe potty trained? (aren't girls supposed to be quicker?), and a 15 month old maybe walking (this is my child we're talking about). And that's ALL the children we will have. I am determined! Jeff and I will be celebrating our 10 year wedding anniversary. I swear we're going to do something fun. ;) We will have lived in one place for almost 3 years!!! Almost. Maybe we'll have bought curtains by then. Half of Jeff's plant will shut down July 1st, 2009, so perhaps Jeff will be in a new job. Maybe we won't be living here after all. Maybe I will have permanently lost part of myself...you know, the part in the middle and the rear.

There, now wasn't that fun? You try.

Happy Monday!

Handsome Michael

Laughing at his Mommy

Lily won't sit still for a photo...hence the extreme close-up and no smile

Michael's smirky half-smile. And I swear he only spends 75% of his day in this bouncy seat.

The crew...the best shot of the three of them I can get. And is it just me, or does Michael look scared...like he's pleading with me, "Mom? How can you leave me here like this?"

How can you have a bad day, when you get to see this 500 times a day? (I'm sure the next entry will explain how.)

Bedtime

I have to admit it...bedtime is one of my favorite times of the day.

I feel horrible. I have 3 wonderful children. They are blessings...honestly I know that deep down to the core of my being. And as often as they make me crazy, there are twice as many times they make me laugh and laugh and laugh.

That being said...I love bedtime. Oh, the quiet, the peaceful quiet.

Lately, putting Lily to bed has become my secret pleasure. I so rarely get alone time with that girl, we really relish our bedtime routine. I get her a cup of milk and pick her up. She says goodnight to everyone, "Bye, A-ew! Bye, Muck! Bye, Dog!" and she almost always leaves out Daddy (break his heart). I carry her upstairs and plop her down on the twin bed that is set up in her room (unless it is a bath night, in which case we just come directly from the tub). She drinks her milk while I change her diaper and put on pj's. Then I turn off the lights and lay down in bed with her. We read Goodnight Moon...and she points out the mouse and says "ushhhh" in this sweet little voice when we read the line, "And the quiet old lady whispering hush". Then we read Goodnight Gorilla...which has very few words, but we've got a little routine of what the animals might say. She tells me that the gorilla has stolen the keys, "Uh-oh, keeesh, Mommy." She does this awesome imitation of the surprised face the zoo keeper's wife has when she realizes there is a gorilla in her bed. She puts a finger to her lips and says, "Shhhhh" when the gorilla sneaks back behind the zoo keeper's wife. And she always snores at the end when the gorilla falls asleep.

Then we cuddle up and sing songs. Always these songs, always in this order. Baa baa black sheep, Twinkle twinkle, ABC's, and Baa Baa black sheep again. While singing, I tickle her or kiss her to the rhythm of the song or she shoves her Night night in front of my mouth to make it sound funny. There is much giggling, and not very conducive to going to sleep. After singing Baa baa for the second time, I ask her if it's time to get into bed. She usually says, "Nigh nigh bed". I lift her up and put her in her crib.

And that's it. She very rarely puts up a fuss after that. Then it's time for Mommy's quiet time. But I just love those last few moments before she goes to sleep. No tantrums. No frustration. No screaming. Just lovely Lily and Mommy time.

-sigh- Contentment is this.

Giggles!

I just got my first giggle from Michael. He was a little ticklish as I took off his onesie. So of course I tickled him again and again because I couldn't get enough of that chuckle. There's nothing like those first laughs.

Could I love him anymore?

The Perks to having 3 small children

I complain a lot...and I always have. But I thought I would devote an entire post to the benefits that come with having multiple small children. Oh, yes, there are lots of perks. LOTS. And I'm sure the perks only increase with the number of children that you have. Those of you out there with 4 or 5 children (or more?) surely could add a lot to the following list...but bear with me. I only have 3. ;)

#1: You are never lonely. Seriously, if you get bored with yourself, just have a few small children around. You won't even get lonely in the bathroom. Unless you go all the way to the upstairs bathroom when your husband comes home and hide. Not that I ever do that.

#2: You can eat what you want. If you want PB&J 7 times a week, you can have it! Leftover Spaghettios? Done. Pizza crusts? All yours. And you don't have to eat in fancy restaurants with their delicious, hot food and big portion sizes and dishwashers. Blech! Who would want that?

#3: You always have an excuse for... a dirty house. being late. not bathing. That's right! Even though I have always had dirty floors and dusty bookshelves, now when I have guests I can just shrug and point at the children. Late? No one questions you as you enter dragging your 3 little ones behind you. Greasy hair? You seem to be the martyr...sacrificing your own cleanliness for the needs of your children.

#4: You are easily pleased. Honestly, there are few other times in your life when you can feel so accomplished for accomplishing so little. I will be home for 10 hours, and if the dishwasher gets emptied and refilled, I feel like I should get mentioned in the local gazette. And if I cook dinner on top of that...DAMN. NBC evening news special.

#5: You are the supreme genius in your realm. Never again will you work in a place where you are so much smarter and more worldly than your cubicle mates. You are the "go-to" person for fun animal facts, religion, medical emergencies, etc. Last week I knew that the animal on the tv was an ocelot. When Jeff Corwin confirmed this, Andrew looked at me like I was a god. Oh, yes. Because I knew the ocelot. Lily requests my pictures of cats and elephants so frequently and exclaims with such delight that I am almost positive I should be selling these pictures to an art museam. According to her...I friggin' ROCK at art. Wait until I put THAT on the old resume in a few years.

#6: You know where you will get skin cancer someday. The middle of your upper back. Where you just can't reach to put suntan lotion and there's no one else around that can help you. And you spend all day out in the sun. But at least you know so you can make a doctor aware.


That's all I can think of for now. Would anyone care to add any to my list?

New health class curriculum

Watching the tv show, Baby Borrowers, has got me thinking.

I think I'm supposed to come away feeling like teens shouldn't have babies (mind-blowing revelation right there). I love that they not only have to take care of the baby, but have to go to work and take the rugrat to classes, etc. Except the show doesn't actually enforce these "rules". Like they were supposed to wear a pregnancy suit until the babies came, but one girl decided it made her look fat, so she didn't wear it. Um...hello?...you signed up for this show! So the show...oh, wait, they did nothing. Just gave her the baby as scheduled. I would've said, no preggers, no baby. Heck, I'd have half a dozen kids if I didn't have to be pregnant. Okay, and if I got a full time nanny and 4 weeks vacation a year sans children. And then one person is supposed to go to work...but one girl last minute decided she had a "tummy ache". So no one went to work...she instead whined and cried in the bathroom. Oh...the whining. All the teens were whining and SOooooooo unable to see beyond themselves. They were...you know...teenagers.

So really, I come away from this show really not wanting any teenagers. Seriously. It's a good thing you get 10 years to fall in love with your child before they turn into that. Ugh.

Anyway, next week they get toddlers. Which I think is BRILLIANT. Babies are portable. Babies can be set down and can't follow you. Teens might think they can handle a baby. But a toddler comes soon after that phase...and it's a whole other ballgame.

I think high schools should take note of this. I remember getting an egg in health class that I was supposed to "take care of" for a day of two. We couldn't set it down, we had to pretend to feed it, etc. Continue this as an example for an infant...why not, it's cheap and easy. But I think that after the "egg experiment", the teens should be given a live gerbil as an example of caring for a toddler. They are not allowed to cage the "baby", they must prevent it from killing itself by chewing on extension cords or swimming in the toilet, they must try and feed it 3 nutritious meals a day, and they must take it to the mall and keep it from running away...no leashes, please! Now, THAT would be preparation for a toddler. Except a gerbil is quiet...no screaming or whining. Wait a minute...on second thought, that sounds too easy!

The amazing exploding toddler

Lily woke up from her nap today screaming. Which is very unusual for her. Although she treats us to an ear-shattering scream at least once an hour, Lily is quite happy when she wakes up. So I rush* upstairs, only to find her COVERED in poop that has exploded out of her diaper. She has touched it with her hand and is very disturbed by this...hence the screaming.

Lucky for me, it wasn't the middle of the night, Jeff was home for the weekend, and Jeff's parents were downstairs. So I had someone** there to draw a bath for Lily, hold Michael, entertain Andrew, strip the sheets, etc. If ever there was a time to have poop everywhere...this was it!

* "rush" is relative to the placement of the child. If my 1st born had uttered this type of scream during a nap, I would have dropped anything and everything I was doing and literally ran up the stairs to save my baby. Since it was my second child, "rush" meant looking at the monitor in a confused way, waiting a minute to see if she would go back to sleep, and then finishing what I was doing and moseying up the steps. With my 3rd, I will likely turn the monitor off and get up there when I get up there.

**"someone" also includes me. I may be a slave driver, but I don't make Jeff do EVERYTHING. Well, not every weekend.

A glimpse at my past

I had a surreal moment today.

Andrew is in camp...glorious camp. He loves it, and I love it because I feel less guilty about being a "0" mom when I know he is at least having fun in the mornings. I DON'T love camp because I have to haul Lily and Michael in and out of the car to drop Andrew off and pick him up. But I'm getting the hang of it...and it isn't that bad.

Today I was trekking back to my car, pushing a screaming Michael in the stroller while talking to Andrew and shepherding Lily away from the parking lot and towards our car. As I passed two women talking beside their cars, I hear one woman say, "Oh, what an adorable little girl." (Lily WAS adorable...wearing her little Elmo dress and stomping down the sidewalk like she owned it). The other lady said quietly, "I wonder how far apart she is from the baby."

I turned and said, "18 months." And she said, "Oh, well, I just found out that my 3rd child will be 17 months younger than my baby." And I explained how Michael was my "surprise", and I thought 3 years was the perfect spacing between children, and how I spent my entire pregnancy in fear. And she looked at me with complete understanding in her eyes, and kept nodding and telling me how her situation is exactly the same. And I saw her fear and nervousness and listened to her plead, "So....how is it?"

And I told her the truth..."It is hard. But not nearly as hard as you think it will be. Somehow you do it and get through each day. You'll be fine." As I pulled out of the parking lot, I remembered to put down my window and tell her congratulations. She sighed and shrugged and said thanks.

And I am left feeling bad for her. Not because of her surprise pregnancy. I hope she finds a wonderful little joyful surprise at the end like I have. I hope she finds that she falls more in love with her baby with each passing day. That there are certainly hard days, and she will probably be more exhausted physically and mentally than ever before. But there are also amazing moments of love and contentedness. I realized how happy I am with my little family, how proud I am to have all 3 of my babies, and how glad I am that Michael surprised us. And I realized that although it defies all logic, I wouldn't change a thing. Not even the spacing between Lily and Michael...because that would mean I wouldn't have Michael, right?

No, I feel bad for that woman because I know what she has to go though for the next 7 or 8 months. It was like looking through a time machine at myself. And I'm so glad to be at this end.

(and I realize that this woman may be NOTHING like me. She is probably nervous but really elated and feeling blessed and excited about baby #3. There are only a few control freaks like me out there that flip out for an entire pregnancy, in such denial that they don't even pack a bag for the hospital when labor is immanent. But, whatever.)