Mommy friends

Making friends is an art form. One that comes easily to some and is a struggle for others. But I'm going to go out on a limb and say that making Mommy friends is even harder than the average friend making.

In normal, childless situations, making friends involves finding someone who likes to do things that you do or at the very least is interesting to talk to. If you don't share the same political views or religious beliefs, it is very easy to simply avoid these topics or touch on them very gently so no one is offended.

Parenting is very polarizing. See, parents...all parents...have to choose what to focus on. Raising a child is incredibly overwhelming, and no parent can be perfect in all aspects. So each parent must choose what is worth fighting for and what can simply be brushed under the rug. Some parents worry about the food going into their child's mouth (is it organic? is it free from refined sugar? i do not want to do anything to make my child obese/not grow enough). Some worry about germs (did we wash our hands yet? let's stay away from that kid with a runny nose. oh, i must sanitize this paci again.) Some are very strict about rules (no jumping in the house, don't leave the table until we're all finished with the meal, all toys must be cleaned up at the end of the day). You get the idea? Maybe there is a woman out there that manages to stay up on everything 100% of the time. But I don't want to be friends with her. ;)

Okay, so you get that parenting is about choosing what to focus on in the hopes that you will successfully raise your child to be independent, self-sufficient, confident, and hopefully not living in your basement alone at age 45. Heaven help you if you and your spouse have major arguments about what to focus on. But there is the struggle of facing the world around you as well.

See, parents choose (whether consciously or not) what they will struggle to improve in their children. Then they cling to that like it is gospel. And someone who has gone down a slightly different path must be raising their child wrong...because if they end up being correct, then you are wrong. Yikes. That is unacceptable.

This is getting long. But my point is when you get together and try to make friends with another mom, your hot topics are right there out in the open. You can't just avoid the topics...parenting happens 100% of the time, so it is impossible to just avoid it. One mom has made the choice to watch every bite of food that goes into her daughter's mouth. Everything should be organic or at least without preservatives. She gets produce from local organic farms, shops at health food stores, and limits anything that might be chewy and get stuck in teeth (no cavities!). She goes to a playdate, and the mother hosting has...gasp...fruit snacks, salty pretzels from Acme, and juice boxes. What does she do? One mother doesn't believe in spanking when her child does something wrong, and the host thinks it is the only way to get through to a child.

A good mom friend just swallows hard and bends the rules for the 2 hours we're together. Then she goes home and tells her husband how the host's kids are going to be obese and get cancer and whatever else organic health food is supposed to help you avoid. She never says anything to your face, because deep down she knows that all our kids are going to grow up fine as long as we love them enough to try and make their lives better...in some aspect...even if it's not the same aspect.

A bad mom friend watches you put your child in timeout and then proceeds to tell you that you should spank, because you need to beat the evil out of your child. (yes, that actually happened to me).

So it's a struggle, but it's well worth it to find those fellow soldiers in the field of parenting. Even if you have different ideology, nobody really knows what they are doing. And it's really nice to know that you aren't the only one wandering in cluelessness.

First crush

Andrew is seriously crushing. But I have a few problems with the object of his affection. For one thing, she's older than him. Like a generation older. Another problem is this girl is dating his uncle. That could cause some family tension down the line. Can you imagine the family reunions?

Yes, Andrew has a crush on Monica, Uncle Chad's girlfriend. It was love at first sight...he has a thing for long hair. I thought the crush would die once it became long distance, but Andrew has yet to let it go.

First, there was the visit to Grandma's work in Ohio. Andrew was in a funky mood, but Grandma really needed to stop in and fax something (plus it was a great opportunity to show off her grandkids...she's always looking for excuses to do that). Anyway, Andrew was sulking while I fed Lily. Grandma said, "Do you want to go meet Monica?" Andrew's face LIT UP. More than for Santa. He was so excited that Monica was in the next room. Imagine his surprise and disappointment when he discovered that Grandma's middle-aged assistant is also named Monica. Not quite the woman he was hoping for.

Then, we were driving somewhere here in PA, and Andrew was once again talking about marriage. Keep in mind that this is more than a month since we were in Texas. He is still trying to get his head wrapped around that concept. And for the record, we don't talk about Monica. No offense to Monica, of course, but most conversations in our house are about cleaning up toys, which Matchbox car is going to win the race, and how many bites he needs to eat to get dessert. So him mentioning Monica is driven purely by him. Anyway, the conversation in the car went something like this:

Andrew- Mom, I want to marry Lily when I grow up.
Giselle- You don't have to marry Lily. You get married to make someone part of your family, and Lily already is part of your family. So you don't have to.
A- Who should I marry then?
G- You have a lot of time to decide. You can't get married until you are 18, and that's a long way away.
A- How long?
G- Well you'll be 4 this year. Then 5 next year. Then 6, then 7, and on and on until you are 18.
**long pause** (these are always dangerous. Humdingers come after long pauses)
A- I know who I'm going to marry.
G- Really? Who?
A- Monica.
G- Why do you want to marry Monica?
A- Because she talks so beautiful.

I kid you not, those were his exact words. How cute is that? I'd tell Chad to watch out except a few days later we had this conversation.

A- Mom, I'm going to marry Monica, did you know that?
G- Yes, you mentioned that.
A- I'm not going to marry her until I'm 80, though.
G- Well, I hope that works out. Monica will be about 100 when you are 80.
A- Huh?

So Monica is going to have to wait a while for a proposal from my boy. He's apparently happy with just a long distance crush for now. Just as long as she doesn't break his heart...

Home ownership

Ah, the delights of home ownership! When you make your first purchase, it is so satisfying! Finally, and investment you can enjoy! Debt larger than you can imagine, and yet it is a roof over your head, something to decorate and fill with your treasures, your own domain!

I'm over it. (are you all now singing the annoying Idol's song?)

I know that there are millions of people who would sell their right arm for the privilege of home ownership. I realize how lucky I am to have my own home. And I am very blessed. In theory.

But I'm over it.

I miss the landscaping crew that used to prune the lawns and gardens so that I could enjoy them with no work involved...no weekends wasted. I miss the excuse as to why my walls are white and bare (not allowed to paint, not allowed to put nail holes in). I really really miss the maintenance man. Light out? No need to look through your 50 light bulbs in storage only to realize you don't have the correct type on hand. AC not working? No need to swelter as you wait 3 weeks for someone to come to your house. Toilet leaking? No need to frantically read a plumbing do-it-yourself manual. I miss him. I wish home ownership came with the option of a full time handyman. We have an extra bedroom. He could live there. I'd treat him well, I swear.

-sigh- Our master shower is leaking into the first floor. We think. All we can see is a wet spot spreading on our ceiling. My live-in handyman wants to fix it himself, even though he doesn't know how. My live-in handyman thinks we can keep taking showers despite this looming issue. We can't shower in the spare bathroom because the sound of the water is like a jet-liner landing in Lily's room. Another maintenance issue that has been unresolved.

-sigh- We don't have many conflicts in our marriage, but this is one of them. Jeff comes from a family where the father fixes things. End of story. I come from a family where the father is not allowed to own a hammer, much less fix the plumbing, so we hire everything out. End of story. Our marriage is a lovely mix of these two. We don't hire anyone and nothing gets fixed. On the positive...we may have a quicker way to get from the master bedroom into the front hall soon...trap door anyone?

Crappy Mommy Moment #345

Damn. At this rate, I'm not even going to be invited to the Mom of the Year banquet.

So Andrew took a nap today. He's exhausted with all the fresh air we've been getting. There was still no lock on his door, since we took it off when Great-Grandma stayed in his room (we didn't see the need to lock her in ;) ). I told him NOT to come out until his nap time was finished, which would be when the clock said 2. He tried to sneak out right at the beginning and I had a cow.

Fast forward 2 hours later. It's 3:30 and I hear him knocking at his bedroom door to come out. Cute, since he could just come out...but he's a good boy listening to his mommy. As I walk up the steps, I notice a wet spot on the carpet. Interesting. Did I spill water?

When I opened Andrew's bedroom door, it took me a while to figure out what had happened to him, but I'll spare you that mental journey. Here's Andrew's afternoon, which is taking me right off the guest list to aforementioned banquet.

Andrew watches Mommy have a tizzy fit about him wandering out of his room during nap time. Andrew reads a few books and then climbs into bed and falls asleep. He wakes up desperately needing to go to the bathroom. The clock doesn't say "2" like mommy said, but, gee, he really has to go. So Andrew bolts out of his room and makes his way to the toilet. As he stands in front of the potty trying to pull his pants down, he pees EVERYWHERE. Through his pants, soaking the rug, EVERYWHERE. (when I found it I thought the toilet must have overflowed...but it was just his accident). Andrew hates being wet, he is embarrassed and grossed out. He starts to walk down the steps to find me to remedy this nasty situation. Halfway down the stairs (dripping urine the whole way), he realizes that the clock doesn't say "2" so Mommy will probably have another tizzy that he left his room. Add that to the fact that he has covered the bathroom and himself with pee...yikes. So out of fear of his mother's wrath, Andrew climbs the steps to his room, closes his bedroom door, and stands dripping pee and knocking the door.

Poor baby. Imagine my confusion when he says he had an accident, but the bed is dry. Poor baby. Who allowed me to become a mother anyway?

Oh...wait...

...the veil of grumpiness has lifted. It's amazing how PMS sneaks up on you when you have irregular cycles. Judging from this month, I'd say not nursing has made me jump right back into the old 29 day cycle. Wow...this is WAY TMI for my males readers. Moving on...

We had the most wonderful visit with Jeff's grandma and Aunt Bonnie this weekend. They breezed in Saturday night after the kids were in bed. How considerate. Seriously. I'm not being sarcastic. It gave me the entire day to scrub my house down to an acceptable level of grime and clutter. If there were an Olympic sport of cleaning, Jeff's grandma would be holding multiple gold medals. She would give the US a clear advantage. To her credit, she has visited us numerous times since we got married, and she's never said a thing to me about my shoddy housekeeping. Not a word or an eye roll or a cringe and gag-gulp. She's a classy lady, I tell ya! Anyhoo, despite her never indicating that my house disgusts her, I still clean a little bit harder before she visits. I even wiped down my window sills. I know, I know. I may now be eligible for intramural cleaning.

Wow, way off topic. So they got in Saturday night, and we had a nice time chatting and hearing about their travels sans children. The thing I love about small town people is they talk about distant relatives, friends, and distant relative's friends as if they are household names. Bonnie and Grandma visited Mary Jo, Barb, and Karen. I didn't figure out who these people were until about the 3rd story, when the connection was laid out for me. (probably in reaction to my blank looks). It was just assumed that I would instantly recognize the names, as in Madonna or George W. I'm not making fun of Bonnie or Grandma. It's just the way it is. I started visiting Jeff's town in 1996, and from the first visit every trip to the drug store goes something like this:

Giselle makes a purchase of...I don't know...toothpaste, at the local drug store. Cashier recognizes Jeff. Makes small talk. As we leave, I ask who that was. It's Larry! Don't know Larry? Turns out it was Jeff's 3rd grade teacher's cousin's 2nd husband who used to play football with Jeff's uncle 35 years ago in high school. You know, Larry. Duh.

Or something like that. Man, I'm all over the place. So we chit chat with them and then crash into bed. So that there are beds to be had for all, Andrew is sleeping on the Aero bed in Lily's room and Lily is sleeping in our closet. I know that sounds like you should be calling children's services, but her port-a-crib fits in our closet. Barely. And we left the door open so some fresh air would reach her. She slept great, stop worrying about her.

Sunday dawned with the kiddos up at 6:30. We had breakfast a few hours later. We don't require guests to rise with the sun like our children. Since it was GORGEOUS out, we went to Washington's Crossing park and walked around, walked across the Delaware River (on a bridge, of course), saw turtles, walked back across the Delaware, drove to lunch, came home and put Lily down for a nap. Andrew was having so much fun with Bonnie and Great-Grandma we didn't put him down for a rest.

He showed Great-Grandma his mad hockey skills while I started hacking down my thistle garden. We were trying to see how tall they would get, Jeff even had visions of making furniture out of thistle wood. Great-Grandma said she thought thistles were pretty (God bless her), but once the seeds started spreading our neighbors would probably get testy when they realized we were breeding these stubborn weeds. So I got out the chain saw and started going at it. Grandma soon joined in...because what weekend would be complete without my guests doing work at our house. Why not have the 85 year old pulling weeds? You try and stop her. My father-in-law gets it honestly. After working them to the bone, we all vegged and then had dinner. Andrew was so tired, he was having multiple melt-downs alternating with punchy hyperness. He finished his dinner and asked to go to bed. Say what? And he did...go to bed. Lily soon followed, and we had another nice evening of chatting sans children.

So a very nice day. I am LOVING this April weather in July. Perfect for entertaining guests. So please, call to set up a visit. I'm taking reservations. But pack your working pants...I'm sure I'll have chores for you to do!

If only...

My summers always go something like this...

***After 2 weeks of visiting family or having visitors***

Giselle-"If only I could have a regular schedule with the kids. Then life would be grand!"



***After 2 days of being home alone with the kids and having a regular schedule***

Giselle- "If only someone would come visit. Then I wouldn't be so bored."
or "Let's go somewhere! I can't stand to be home and bored."


-sigh- If only I could be content. (see, I'm still grumpy)

Nibbles

Nakedness is not a big deal at our house. I've always freely gotten dressed in front of Andrew, and never was bothered by his curiosity with my body. I always thought it was a great learning experience. But I knew that it would have to end sometime. I just never knew when or how I would know.

I think it's time.

Andrew is starting to watch me get undressed with a half embarrassed half mischievious look on his face, like he's thinking, "I'm doing something I shouldn't be doing." Yesterday, I was changing into my swimsuit and he got that look on his face and started moving towards me. He said, "Mommy, when you are naked I want to touch your..."
I interrupted quickly and said, "You can't touch Mommy's breasts because they are a private area. No one touches private areas except for doctors, right?" (and Daddy...but I'm trying to get Daddy to stop groping in front of Andrew so this doctor line will stick. It's never too early to start teaching kids about appropriate touching, I figure.)
Andrew says, smirking, "No, I want to touch your arm. See, I'm touching your arm. I won't touch your nibbles."

Which makes me want to giggle. I friggin' LOVE that he called nipples "nibbles". It sounds so cute. The other day, we were at Sesame Place with a friend, and Andrew touched Matthew's chest. He looked at me and said, "Look, Mom! Matthew has nibbles!"

Anyhoo, due to all the smirking and such, I think it's time to be more modest. I thought I'd have a little longer...but there can't be any nibble touching. :)

Grumpy

Lordy, I am a grump. And I have been for over a week. I think it's the heat. I hate being hot. Bring on the blankets and boots. I HATE hot. I'm just grumpy. I'm grumpy at my kids, grumpy at my husband, grumpy with my friends. Grumpy. If you type that word enough it really starts to seem weird.

So that's why I haven't been blogging much. Grumpy. Grouchy. Irritable. Isn't my family lucky to hang out with me?

Here's a cute(?) Andrew story to tide you over until my grumps go away and I once again feel witty and positive about my life.

A few nights ago at dinner, Andrew was having a ham sandwich. I know, he should have been eating salmon like the rest of us, but I'm too grumpy to fight him. He wouldn't eat the sandwich by himself this night...he wanted his dad to feed him. He missed his dad just a tad during our week apart. So Jeff is holding the sandwich and giving Andrew bites. At one such offering Andrew rejected it, saying, "No, Dad, you aren't holding it right." So Jeff scoffs and declares that Andrew should do it, and hands the sandwich back to the Prince. Andrew takes the sandwich, holds it up to his mouth, just so, and pretends to eat a bite, saying, "Like this,Dad, see?" Then the little imp hands the sandwich back to his dad so he can continue to feed him.

We would have been exasperated if we weren't laughing so hard.

Family

Andrew

Andrew holds a duck at crazy farm

Andrew caught a fish!
Jeff's Mini-Me
Playing chess at Children's Museam
Lovin' the hot tub

Lily

Bikini Baby

Konked out at the beach
Big girl sitting up
In Aunt Sara's baptismal gown...now Lily's too!
She loves to wave now

Bachelor Land

On June 17, Jeff and I parted ways...for the week. I went to Cinci with Lily and Andrew and Jeff drove back to Philly all by his lonesome to go back to work. At least I THOUGHT he went back to Philly. Turns out, he instead went to a magical land filled with fantasy and whimsy called "Bachelor Land."

The kids and I got back Saturday (my folks were kind enough to haul us and our 75 luggage items across the incredibly long state of PA). Despite 5 days notice that we would be coming in on Saturday...Jeff was caught unaware. Apparently there are no calendars or clocks in Bachelor Land. Here's how the dialog went once we entered the house.

Giselle- Oh my! The sink is full of dirty dishes!

Jeff- Yea, see, in Bachelor Land, we don't do dishes. Besides, the dishwasher is full, and no one in Bachelor Land knows where the bottles go.

G- How did you ever eat on this kitchen table? It is COVERED with mail/garbage?
J- Yea, see, in Bachelor Land, we eat in front of the TV. Always.

Other things I learned about Bachelor Land?

-ESPN is always on...unless pre-empted by a James Bond marathon.
-Suitcases are not unpacked...merely lived out of.
-There is no nagging.
-You can read in your recliner until the last minute you leave the house...bypassing any packing of coolers, gooping suntan lotion on squirmy kids, making lunch, finding shoes and squashing them onto little feet, etc. etc. (and he wonders why there is normally nagging).
-There are no cuddles.
-The presence of me or the kids makes Bachelor Land immediately disappear. Poof. Gone.

I can tell that Jeff really enjoyed his vacation in Bachelor Land. He was pretty cuddly and affectionate when we got home, even though I was/am a grump because I came home to a house so FILTHY, so I hope that means he likes Daddy Land a little bit better. Or maybe he just wanted to get some. There is no sex in Bachelor Land. At least, not for my Casanova. ;)

The blogs that will never be...

We're still in Ohio. And I'm WAY behind on keeping a log of our travels. But I have been inspired almost every day. I'll never catch up. I'm way to lazy. So here's a list of the blog entries that will never happen, but I was inspired to write.

Lily's Halo, Sunday June 9 A synopsis of Lillian's baptism. She was baptized at the same church, by the same pastor as Andrew 3 years ago. Both kids were ANGELS. Lily looked darling in her Aunt Sara's baptismal gown.

Old MacDonald had a LSD Flashback, Monday June 10 A very funny entry about the strangest farm you could ever visit. It's like experiencing a drug high (or so I would think). You are riding on a wagon driven by a young man with a German-esque accent, when random animals come up to eat. Wait! Is that a pig...oh! And now a majestic elk! Huh? Is that a zebra chasing a bison? Is it just me, or are there 1 million fallow deer wandering around? A kangaroo? Really? Where the heck am I?

Cousins, Wednesday June 13 A post about hanging out with Colin and Kate. Lily was charming...as per usual. Andrew was hard to please...as per usual. Colin was a DOLLBABY. God, he is growing fast. The boys got along great. Downer for the day? Andrew was rude as HECK to his Uncle Greg. And Mom here dropped the ball for disciplining him. Sorry Uncle Greg. Since you usually only see Andrew about once a year, I hate that this is your impression of him. Luckily, we'll see you again in August...I'll try to have him better rested and less...well, less 3. ;)

The Secret, Thursday June 14 Andrew has been keeping a very big secret from his dad...Jeff's 30th birthday surprise. Today Grandma tried to let Andrew in on another secret...and Andrew responded, "I only have room for one secret." Poor burdened kid. He shouldn't be so nosy when I'm shopping, then.

Harper, Kelsey, and Killer, Friday June 15 I wish I had more time to write a proper entry about our visit with friends in Dayton. Some of you may know them from this blog. I had high hopes for the meeting of Harper and Andrew...both prolific talkers. But Andrew was cranky, and their dog Rebound a bit too friendly. It was still a wonderful time in their beautiful home (how do people with kids keep houses so clean?). Harper is an amazing child...so sweet and funny and smart as a whip (boy, talk about a saying from the 1800s). Was Andrew ever that sweet? My highlight was when Harper watched Andrew go potty and exclaimed, "Andrew has a tail!" Andrew emphatically responded, "I DO NOT." Might be time for an anatomy lesson ;) Andrew and Harper had a BLAST for the last 10 minutes we were there. Maybe next time...? But by then Harper will be 3...

Visiting Great-Grandma and a wedding, Saturday June 16 A long post about our busy day Saturday. Jeff was in the wedding of a college friend Saturday, so while he was getting all gussied up, I took the kids to my grandma's house in Dayton. Lily was an ANGEL and Andrew was pretty good also. Mom and Dad took the kids because we were told that children were not allowed at the wedding/reception...yea! A night to ourselves. I got gussied up as well as I could, and went to the beautiful service. Jeff is getting WAY hotter than me...motivating me to lose some weight. Hung out with old friends and a new one in between wedding and reception. Forgot about losing weight as I wolfed down wedding cake at a reception that included about 25 children Andrew and Lily's age. Hmmmm. After wedding went back to hotel, and edited due to content.

Father's Day, Sunday June 17 A mushy post about my Daddy and the father of my children. Ironically, Jeff did not even see his children this day because he was driving back to Philly all by his lonesome.

Secret Revealed, Monday June 18 Jeff's birthday is Friday, and finally his birthday secret is out! He has a weeklong scavenger hunt to remind him of his family that loves him...so he doesn't have a mid-life crisis while I'm gone. I don't want to come back Saturday to find a blond bimbo cooking dinner. ;) I hear that scavenger hunts help with infidelity...so... I told Andrew he could finally talk to his dad about it...no reaction. Oh well. Andrew also told me this morning that he told Garcia to go away because he was bad. Then when I was helping Andrew clean up a spilled bowl of candy, Andrew said, "Garcia came back." Damn Garcia.

Phew! That's the last week or so. We'll see if I can get on here more regularly.

On the road again...

Here we are in Ohio! It is the first time we drove with the kids (spoiled rotten...that's what they are). I was really nervous, because Lily usually just screams after 45 minutes or so (my kids don't sleep so much in the car). But we bought her a new car seat last week, and maybe it is way more comfy...but she didn't cry hardly at all! And she only slept about 1 hour of the 8 hour car ride. Good girl.

Andrew was also a champ. No problems there...as usual. Seriously, I need to get my tubes tied immediately. Whatever...Jeff's tubes tied immediately. What are the chances that we would get 2 incredibly good kids? Seriously...they are incredible. They make Jeff and I look like great parents, which is totally just chance/luck. The chances of lighting striking a third time are highly unlikely.

So we are here...back in the homeland. The weather has been UNBELIEVABLE so far. We are spending a little less than a week with my in-laws, going to a wedding in Dayton this weekend, and then I will be spending a week with my parents sans Jeff. And Jeff will be all alone in Philly for his 30th birthday. I'm a little concerned that he will go and have a mid-life crisis on that day. I'm going to come home to a new convertible in my driveway or something.

I probably won't be blogging quite as much. We've got our days packed with visiting people and other such things. Hopefully it will result in lots of funny stories. ;)

Potty training side effects

There are definite side effects to a potty trained boy. And coming from a family of girls, I am still quite naive about them.

We were eating breakfast at a hotel on our way to Ohio (yes...we're traveling again). Andrew stood up and started holding himself. I asked him if he needed to go potty. His response? In front of all the other breakfasting guests?

"No, Mom. I just like to touch my penis."

Alrighty then.

Breakfast

Breakfast has become a type of game show at our house. Not for the kids. For me. The goal is to eat breakfast in one sitting. I very rarely win.

Winter was easy. I made myself a bowl of oatmeal each day. Yummy, stays hot for a long time, doesn't get soggy, and I can eat it one-handed as I simultaneously feed the baby, open yogurt for Andrew, pour oj, etc etc.

But we have now moved into hot weather season. I hate being hot. It makes me irritable, short-tempered, and just unpleasant to be around. This doesn't work well with parenting, as my children often make me irritable, short-tempered, and just unpleasant to be around. I especially HATE being touched when I'm hot...don't you dare add your body heat to mine...which obviously doesn't work well with parenting.

So oatmeal is obviously out now. The last thing I need to do is gulp down something warm and raise my body temperature. The children may not survive the morning.

My favorite summer breakfast is Cheerios with fresh fruit. I actually enjoy this more than oatmeal...but trying to eat it in one sitting should be an Olympic sport. First, I wait until Andrew tells me he wants breakfast. If I try to eat before he wakes up, he will instinctively hear the splash as the milk hits the cereal and wake up instantly. Pouring the cereal does not activate children...it is the addition of milk. When it is just cereal in the bowl, the cereal can wait indefinitely for me to finish taking care of the children and sit down to eat. But with the milk...ah...the possibility of ruining the whole bowl is a distinct possibility. So anyway, I wait until Andrew asks for breakfast. Then I prepare his breakfast and mine at the same time. I rack my brain to think of every possible request he could have, "Open my yogurt" or "I need 2 spoons" or "I splashed milk...I need a towel" or "Juice! I must have juice!" or "I want to check the newspaper". I assemble the table. Now is crunch time. I must pour my milk quickly before Lily needs to eat, for I cannot manage baby cereal and milk on my spoon at the same time (she is in her exersaucer...of course). I must finish eating before Andrew does or else a whole new crop of issues will come up; "I have to go pee" or "Where is my red car" or "I need new pants". I make faces at Lily between bites to keep Lily occupied and distracted from her growling belly as I try and coax Andrew to stay and finish his meal.

Occasionally I make it through the entire bowl without having to get up. Lots of times I end up with a soggy mush. It's like an omen...reading tea leaves or whatever. If I get crunchy cereal, good day. Mushy...it's iffy.

If you think this sounds like a 3-ring circus, you should see dinner! The kids have 2 performers for that meal...and they keep us up and running!

If Lily were my 1st child...

...I'd swear she'd said her first word this evening. She was sitting in her highchair while we ate dinner babbling away. Jeff sat down and she was in the middle of a stream of "Da-da-da's". We congratulated her and said yes, that's Dada, Jeff pointing at himself, etc etc., trying to start getting it into her head that these babbles can actual communicate meaning. She was facing Jeff the whole time, kind of grinning and looking at him like he was crazy. Then she very purposefully turned and looked directly at me and said, "Mama". Just that. No other babbles. Sure sounded like she was processing that Jeff was Dada and turned to tell me that I'm Mama. We of course went bananas!

But since she's the second child, I'm chalking it up to a coincidence. I won't believe it until she gives me a repeat performance. And maybe one more after that. ;)

A game called "grow"

Life is a game to Andrew. A competition, actually. A competition where he'd better win, or there's going to be quite the tantrum. Much of his vernacular is associated with sports as well. He doesn't hold his pee, he "blocks" it. As in, "Andrew, do you have to use the potty?" "No, Mom, I'm blocking it."

Here's a story I have to write down before I forget it. I can't believe it's taken me this long to record it.

While on vacation, he told someone (and I can't remember who, now) this, "Lily and I are playing a game called 'grow', and I'm winning. Because I came out of my mommy's tummy first." Let's all laugh and then roll our eyes. Mr. Competition. At least this is one game he'll always be winning.

***Andrew is getting ready for bed right now. I have to tell you that he's been going to bed with just pajama bottoms on. He wants to sleep, "With no pajamas like Uncle Chad". Apparently Uncle Chad sleeps with no shirt. And after our trip to Texas, everything Uncle Chad does is cool. ***

Da-da, Muh-muh, Na-na, Yuh-yuh

I mentioned in a previous post that while in Texas, Lily uttered her first consonant, Bah-bah. We were ecstatic. I mean, when Andrew was this age, he was already reciting the alphabet. Okay, not really...but that's probably how I'll tell the story when I'm in my 50's. But he was far quicker with the whole babbling thing than Lily has been.

Well, maybe not for long. Today...yes, in just one day, we have heard 4 new sounds from her. And one multi-syllable babble, Ah-da. What the heck? Is this child secretly practicing so she can astound us all in one day? She was just sitting in her highchair and clearly said, "Da da da da", as if this is something she has always been able to do. What's next? Am I going to catch her sauntering through the room on two feet? Oh, yea, Mom, I forgot to tell ya that I know how to walk.

Even more remarkable than her verbal breakthrough is that it happened in the middle of a bad cold. Poor little thing is just miserable. I hate sick infants...there's just so little that you can do for them. And, yes, I do have a humidifier...but she's so hot already I hate to steam her out. And, yes, I do have a cool mist vaporizer/humidifier/whatever it's called, but it doesn't do diddly.

Oh, and as of today she is on 100% bottles. I had been nursing first thing in the morning and then one more feeding after that. This morning at 6 I went in to her room with a bottle. She got SOOOOOOO excited, grabbing and stuffing it in her mouth. Yea, don't cry for me, Lillian. I feel the love. ;)

Postcards

I felt inspired by this post to write my own postcards post.

Andrew loves to talk on the phone. Quite frankly, so do I. And my mom is one of my favorite people to chat with during the day...and I do AT LEAST once a day. She actually probably screens her calls, because, really, who wants to hear that your grandchildren's lives are in danger more than once a day?

Anyhoo...let's connect the dots. I talk to my mom each day, Andrew likes to talk on the phone, therefore...Andrew talks to Memere on the phone a lot. God bless her. Andrew is getting better about having actual conversations on the phone. So I hope it's not as painful as a few months ago when he would say hello and then start looking around the room for something to talk about. For example:

Last summer:
Memere- Hi Andrew! How are you?
Andrew- Memere! (pause as he looks frantically around the room). Red car. Playdoh. Cardinal in the tree.
Memere- Huh?

etc etc etc

This Tuesday:
Memere- Hi Andrew! What are you doing?
Andrew- Talking to you. How's Pepere?
M- We're on vacation with Uncle Chuck.
A- He's your big brother.
M- Yup. I'm sending you a postcard in the mail.
A- Mail! I'll go look for it.

etc etc etc

Yes, my mother proclaimed that she was sending him mail on Tuesday. At least I think it was Tuesday...it feels like it was 3 weeks ago. Because immediately after hanging up with her that morning, he insisted on looking in the mailbox for this promised prize. Of course, there was nothing there. But at least there was no mail at all. When the actual mail came later in the day, Andrew looked frantically for his letter. Imagine his shock and disappointment that there were only letters for Mommy and Daddy. And so, since it was 5:00 and he'd taken no nap...he had a HUGE meltdown. About the mail. Guess what? Repeat performance Wednesday. And again Thursday. I'm talking down on the floor, crying hysterically. We tried to explain that Memere probably SENT the letter Tuesday, but it would take a few days to arrive. We tried to explain that all Daddy and Mommy were getting were bills, which are no fun at all.

Finally, today, the postcards came in the mail (THANK GOD!). He was THRILLED. Carried it around with him like a trophy. And a postcard also came for Lily...which also thrilled him. He must have shown her the card lots of times...although he did get upset when she tried to eat it. He also must have asked me 3 times how to open the card. Postcards are a new concept for him.

Lesson to learn? Don't ever tell a pre-schooler something far in advance. Especially a pre-schooler with a long memory. ;)

Lily the Grouch

No, my sweet Lily isn't grouchy. She just LOVES trash. Is obsessed with it. We sing "I Love Trash" all day long to her. Newspaper, plastic bottles, empty boxes, full boxes, old Popsicle wrappers, you name it. I can just smell disaster coming when she starts to crawl and discovers she can tip the trash cans. Forget toys...give this girl an envelope and she's good for 15 minutes. She has an incredible attention span already...if you give her the correct kind of object...namely, garbage. Strange little girl.

And her hair is getting weird too. She still has a ton of it. It is growing and growing on top, so it is never spiky anymore. But it isn't growing at all underneath. So she kind of looks like she has a bad toupee. The long part just kind of spills over all the baldness underneath. Weird.

I love the Ba-ba-ba's. She just happily sings that syllable over and over. Today I thought I heard a Ga-ga-ga...but when I tried to get her to repeat it back to me, she just smiled at me. I've started doing signs with her for "All done" and "More" and "Eat"...she just laughs at that too. So different...

Speaking of different...this girl has got a crazy strong grip. Yesterday she was playing with a half empty water bottle (see trash lover above). She literally palmed it in her right hand and lifted it up and down, shaking it. One-handed, people. If she gets her mama's long legs, perhaps we'll have a basketball player on our hands. As long as they get to shoot trash into the baskets, that is.

And to be fair, here's an Andrew story. My favorite new quirk of his. He LOVES talking on the phone...to anyone anytime. And people always ask, "What are you doing, Andrew?" To which he answers, "I'm talking to you on the phone!" with a tone of impatience and amazement. Gotta love the literalness of this kid!

Crazy mommy

Being a crazy mom has its disadvantages.

Today, to make Andrew laugh, I put on two different flip-flops. He thought it was hilarious and crazy.

Fast forward to an hour later as I'm waiting in line at the post office. Yup, still wearing mis-matched flip-flops. Guess I forgot to switch one after I was done teasing the 3 year old. I hope people were distracted by the cute baby strapped to my chest...if not, they probably figured I was functioning on way too little sleep...which isn't true, but I'll use it as an excuse anyway.

Oops.

Too bad police

Around Easter time, Andrew debuted his "Too bad" comment. As in, "Andrew, I need you to clean up that toy." "Too bad, Mom." Yes, charming.

Now I have the opposite type of monster on my hands. I may have talked to him too much about the evils of the phrase "Too bad". Because, see, it's not always bad. Sometimes it is said nicely, as in, "It's too bad we didn't bring Shadow to the park today."

Andrew is still learning the difference. So every time we say/hear the phrase "too bad", Andrew points it out and we must dissect the usage and decide if it is okay.

He is also the police for the words "stupid" and "shut up". He will announce loudly if someone says one of these phrases. Loudly.

And sometimes he says them on purpose just to see what my reaction will be. Because he's 3.

Oh, and he polices the crosswalks (as in: Mommy, the hand is showing. That man should not be walking across the street) and the streets (as in: Mommy, that car is going too fast. Where is the policeman to catch him).

For the record...it's tough to teach your child rules when every other person is breaking them. What IS the point of the crosswalk signs if half the people disregard them?

Boy, this is really rambling today. I've got to stretch my blogging muscle. Bear with me.

Highlights

No, I'm not getting highlights in my hair. Maybe I should, but not today. These are highlights from our fabulous trip to Texas. That's right...I said fabulous. 3rd time's a charm, right? (to review...1st time was with cruise from hell, 2nd time I was preggers and intolerant to the heat).

Weather was gorgeous, children were unbelievably good, we were spoiled ROTTEN by the in-laws. Here are some other highlights...

***Andrew was ON as the entertainer of the week. He paraded happily around meeting all kinds of new people. And he eagerly discussed his football teams, weather maps, counting, and any other trick that he could pull out of his hat. It was such a pleasure to be able to share that part of him...as opposed to the sullen tantruming part (which we saw a little bit of, but not as much as you would expect).

***Andrew got to meet some significant others. He was seriously crushing on Chad's girlfriend, Monica. She is very pretty, with long silky hair (you know Andrew's obsession with hair), and she is very attentive to pre-schoolers. All that equals love at first sight for Andrew. The only problem? Monica admitted to living all by herself...a concept that is practically inconceivable to a 3 year old. Andrew was very concerned, and spent much of the time trying to solve this "problem" for her. It led to many awkward conversations about marriage and moving back in with her parents. But probably not as awkward as one point in the restaurant when Andrew pointed out Monica's breasts and told her she could have a baby and feed it. Nice. Andrew also initiated Sara's boyfriend Colum. Initiated him to "Andrew-rules" soccer. Poor guy had to sit on the floor and be pelted with soccer balls as Andrew's goalie. And heaven forbid he actually block a shot. Yikes! Thank heavens we had a nerf-like ball, or else Colum would have been headed to the ER.

***Potty training is interesting at the beach. The first day we were there, every time his swim trunks got wet, Andrew would think he had wet his pants. He'd waddle around like a duck and insist on walking all the way back up to the bathrooms. He got over this eventually...but he's back to wetting his diapers at night.

***Andrew had us in stitches...as usual. We went searching for ghost crabs...which Andrew insisted on calling "goose" crabs. He would say, "Raise your hand if..." for some ridiculous things. As an example, Grandma was trying to get him to go to the beach at night to look for goose crabs. Andrew didn't want to go, so I told him that Grandma was scared and needed him to keep her company. Andrew said, "Raise your hand if you are brave." Grandma was the only one who raised her hand. Andrew said happily, "Great! You can go by yourself, then!"

***Lily was UNBELIEVABLE. INCREDIBLE. ASTONISHING. She slept like a champ, went to restaurants way past her bedtime every night...just a flexible fun little girl. She was smiley and slept well and happy and slept well and easily entertained and slept well and just about as good as you could dream a child to be. She also said her first consonant "Ba ba ba", which she is now repeating every 10 minutes or so. (I know she was supposed to meet this milestone months ago...but we're still thrilled with it!). Oh, and she HATED the ocean. Put her feet in and she would shake her fists and scream. But she loved the beach. She even napped on the beach. Did I mention that she slept well? She was cute as a button in her little sundresses. Love her love her love her.

So those are the highlights. I'm missing things, I know. But most of all we had fun hanging out with all the family. My heart just melts watching Uncle Chad and Aunt Sara ooze love all over their niece and nephew. Kind of makes me wish we all lived in the same town. Thanks again to Grandma and Grandpa for a wonderful trip!

To the beach, to the beach!

Well, we're off to the beach in Texas tomorrow. Oh, and my brother-in-law's graduation. Not that the graduation isn't the most important thing. But there just happens to be a condo reserved at the beach for the following week. ;) I am in the process of trying to compress all the crap that kids need into the fewest number of suitcases. Thank heavens the condo has a washer/dryer. I remember when I was psyched if my vacation destination had free drinks. Oh, how life changes. ;)

So be prepared for a nice long hiatus from "Moments of Sanity--Take 2". I'm sure I'll come back with no pictures and very few stories. No, seriously. I'm notoriously bad about documenting actual exciting trips. Mundane daily life, I could write about all week (oh, wait, I do). But fun trips. Not so much. Trust me. I've been printing out my blog history. Not much.

I'll be missing you and thinking of you often! Not really, but feel special anyway.

King

Jeff wonders why I'm tired at the end of the day. Mentally tired. Here's an example of a car ride with Andrew. I'm not exaggerating or deleting much...just trying to write down a typical conversation in the car.

The scene: Andrew, Lily, and Giselle are going to the library for their normal Tuesday morning excursion. Thrilling, I know. Giselle takes a slight detour to hit an ATM in case she hears Burger King calling later. The bank/ATM is across the street from the athletic center, where we had soccer starters, where we haven't visited in 3 weeks.

Andrew- Mommy, I thought we were going to the library. Are we going to soccer instead?
Giselle- You remember where we played soccer? Amazing. No, we are still going to the library. I have to go to the bank real quick.
A- Why?
G- To get money.
A- Why?
G- Because I don't have any left in my wallet.
A- Why not?
G- Because Daddy stole it from me.
A- Daddy is a nasty Daddy for stealing.
G- No, it's okay. Daddy and I share money and he needed it to pay the man who cut our lawn. He's not bad, we share.
A- Not like in Robin Hood. Why does that guy always suck his thumb and say 'Ma Ma'?
G- He acts like a baby when he gets scared or upset.
A- Why?
G- I don't know. He just does.
A- He steals, right?
G- Yes. From the poor.
A- Why?
G- Because he's greedy.
A- What's greedy?
G- It means you want more of something even if you don't need it. Especially if it means you can have more than everybody else.
A- Why does he want more money?
G- Because he's greedy.
A- Why doesn't he go to jail?
G- Because he's the king, so he can take whatever he wants.
A- Why?
G- Because kings are in charge. They are supposed to be nice, but that king in Robin Hood was bad.
A- How come he's a king?
G- Because his dad was a king. That's how you get to be king...your dad has to be one.

Short pause

A- Is my dad a king?

And on and on and on we went. I thought the asking if his dad was a king was really cute, hence I decided to write it down. But the journey to get to that comment was equally amusing, so there you go. THAT'S why I'm mentally exhausted at the end of the day.

Breaking up is hard to do...and a funny kid too

It's official. Lily is breaking up with me...well, my boob anyway. I'm trying not to take it personally. I know it's not me, it's her. We just want different things. She's found someone else that makes her heart go pitter patter...or rather, her tummy. So much so, that I can't even put away the clean bottles out of the dishwasher without her having a conniption fit. So I'm trying to let go...we are officially weaning. Much slower than my cold turkey with Andrew. But still headed down that road. And I'm sad. But I figure I'll be like this for every milestone Lily reaches, from weaning to graduating high school. My baby.

Andrew is so darn cute. We were sitting outside looking at the clouds a few days ago. I used to say what shape I saw, and he'd agree, or make up something really ridiculous that was nothing like the cloud. He just didn't get it. He gets it now. He was seeing some really cool things in these big fluffy clouds. And yet, he still doesn't get humor just right. Here's an excerpt of our conversation:

A- Hey Mom! That cloud looks like Kentucky! (and it really did...so smart).
G- Wow! It really is shaped like Kentucky. Let's wave and say hi to our friends, 'Hi guys! We miss you!'
A- (a disgusted look on his face, accompanied by a condescending tone) It's just tender Kentucky, Mom.

Today we were pirates. We made a trail of arrows on the ground heading to our treasure (x marks the spot), we rowed our boat here and their (our porch swing served as our vessel), we fought pirates with our stick swords, and just generally ran around like crazy people (Lily was napping). I was making up names of the pirates we had to fight and what terrible things they did to deserve a severe butt kicking. Really original ones like Davy Jones and Black Jack and Captain Hook. Andrew began contributing names when I started running out...like Crayonie Drayonie (he bites cheeks off) and Color Droller (he melts houses). But after about 45 minutes...let's be honest...15 minutes, I began really wishing he had a friend his own age to play with. Of course, at 3, they would be fighting and tantrums because each wanted to do things their own way. But someday, right? For now, I'm just dreaming of some playground equipment for our backyard. It's pathetic that he just plays with this rinky dink slide we have. I know I'm dreaming to think that play equipment will deter him from wanting to play with me. What's a swing when your mom is willing to be a swashbuckling pirate?

Which brings me to my number one lesson that my brain refuses to learn. Before you do something fun with your 3 year old, think about how fun it will be after the 100th repetition, and then decide whether to introduce it or not. Imagining cloud shapes? Fun, relaxing, not difficult. Running around the yard as a pirate? Maybe not something I'm going to want to do every spare second for the next week.

Happy Mother's Day!

Even though Mother's Day seems like another Hallmark generated holiday, I'll take the opportunity to say thanks to all the mothers I know.

Thanks to all the mothers who also blog, so I can get a glimpse of life at your house. It is reassuring to read your stories and hear your frustrations and joys. It is also great to laugh at someone else's life. Makes me feel better every day!

Thanks to all the mothers who are my friends...even if you don't allow me to be nosy and read about your day to day life. ;) Mothering can be a lonely job without much feedback. Other mothers are as close as I get to a help line...and you all speak English very well, so it's actually better than most help lines.

And the biggest thank you to my two moms. My own mom for more reasons than I can list. First, for giving birth to my huge 9lb5oz butt. Second, for not drowning me at a young age. Third, for not trading me in for a cuter model during the "awkward years" (am I out of those yet?). Last, for continuing to mother me, even though I am now an adult and supposed to be self-sufficient. I still need my mommy.

And a thank you to my mother-in-law. First, for raising such a compassionate, caring, loving man (and cute to boot!). Second, for putting up with my crazies without a blink of an eye. Third, for loving your grandchildren so much it drives ME crazy sometimes ;) Last, for just being an incredibly generous, kind, wonderful woman. I honestly couldn't have custom ordered a better mother for my husband. Seriously, my only complaint is that you want to buy us too much stuff. How lame is that complaint? Doesn't fly during playgroup, I'll tell you that. ;)

So happy Mother's Day all!

Having kids is fun!

It is easy as a mother to get bogged down with meal making, clothes washing, reprimanding, correcting, cleaning up after, and entertaining our children. I enjoy my children...I love them and laugh at them/with them a lot. But usually all the other things are also going on. Today I got to just have fun.

Sure, there was the packing the diaper bag full of changes of clothes, snacks, extra diapers, toys for Lily, drinks for Andrew, Purell, extra suntan lotion, etc. And the cajoling the 3 year old to get dressed, timing the baby's nap just right, and packing them into the car. But then we got to Sesame Place.

Jeff, let's call him "Pack Horse" for the purposes of this story, came with me for our first trip to the amusement park. Before I braved it with 2 by myself, I wanted to visit with some backup.

Andrew didn't really understand where we were going...neither did we, for that matter. My in-laws graciously gave us a season's pass for Christmas, but we didn't really know if the park was something Andrew would enjoy. In the past he was always a timid child. We walked through the admission gates, and Andrew saw the big roller coaster. It's not huge, but I was very surprised that a 3 year old could ride it. He could. But I wasn't sure how he would react to rides, and I certainly didn't want to test it out on the biggest ride in the park.

We weaved back to the "Elmo's World" part. We passed tons of really fun water play areas. I can't wait to cool off there this summer...I hope it isn't too crazy crowded. Today was great. We got in line for a ride...and Andrew LOVED it. Heck, I loved it too. He was laughing and we were talking about our crazy hair. Ride after ride, he was just such a riot. Poor Pack Horse was watching from the sidelines carrying the Bjorn with Lily and our bag. Andrew and I just ran from ride to ride.

We finally made it back to the front of the park (it's actually not that big). We'd only planned to be there for an hour (this was our test expedition after all), and we'd already been there about 2. Our last ride was the "big" roller coaster. Andrew hopped on, excited as could be. He told me to scream if I got scared, because that's what he was going to do. As we plummeted down 5 stories or so, my heart skipped several beats and I screamed loudly. Not because of the hill...because I envisioned Andrew slipping out of the restraining bar. I had to calm my hyperventilating by repeating to myself, "they allow 3 year olds, it was made for 3 year olds". It also helped that Andrew was sitting next to me LAUGHING LIKE A CRAZY MAN. I think he would get kind of nervous and then he'd look up at me screaming and crack up. Amazing. This is the same kid who won't climb up play equipment at Burger King.

We left the park hot and happy. At least Andrew and I were happy. I couldn't tell how good old Pack Horse felt. Sore, I think. He's a good sport. Did I take pictures? No. I was too busy having fun. Taking pictures would have cut into it...and I was just enjoying myself. So too bad. ;)

AsI drove us all home, I couldn't help but think, "Having kids is fun!" And I think we're just at the start of the really fun stuff. Goody goody...now I just have to block out that tantrum that Andrew had as we were leaving. ;)

I LOVE this age...

Guess which child is at the perfect age right now. I'll give you a hint. It's not Andrew.

Actually, Andrew's not at a terrible age. He is an emotional basket case some of the time, but I do love listening to him figure out the world around him. And being amazed at his little brain...like this morning when he pointed to an advertisement and said, "Look, it's 67 percent." Uh, when did we learn the percent sign?

No, it's my Lillian who is at the perfect age. I've always said that human beings are their most perfect between 6 and 9 months. Playful but not mobile, sleeping a lot still but in a schedule, just happy to be sitting up and interacting. Oh, and so stinking cute, you just want to squeeze and kiss them all the time. Honestly, sometimes newborns are not cute...but I've met very few 8 month-olds who aren't squeezably cute.

There are many moments during the day when I just fall head over heels in love with my little girl. She sits in her high chair after eating, happily watching me clean up the kitchen and playing with her toys. Every time I look over at her, she gives me this big silly grin. Sometimes even a squeal. I build towers of blocks for her, and she grins as she knocks them over, anticipating my mock exclamation of horror that she knocked over my tower. I adore the anticipation of tickles...she sees me creeping towards her and she just wriggles with excitement. I love the furrow of her brow when she is studying a new object or if she hears a new sound. Just figuring everything out. When we try to encourage her to babble with consonants, she just laughs and sticks her tongue out. Always with the tongue hanging out. Not destined to be a socialite with that endearing habit. There's no way you're going to get this girl to do anything she doesn't want to. A mind of her own.

Seriously, Jeff and I have it bad. She'll be sitting somewhere while we get dinner ready and we'll just have to go hug her or touch her or kiss her. We are overwhelmed by her cuteness. We may be prejudiced. I don't care. I enjoy the view from these rose colored glasses.

And Andrew is not excluded from this adoration of Lily. He adores her too...most of the time. Nothing melts my heart like watching him mimic me while playing with Lily. He's seen me creep up and tickle/kiss/eat her up a million times...and now he does it too. She, of course, encourages this behavior from her brother. And he likes nothing better than to make her laugh. So much, that he has a hard time not getting involved if I'm playing with her. HE wants to make her laugh, not me. It's his special thing. So much so that he tells strangers that we meet that Lily loves him and he makes her laugh.

I wish you could all come and hang out with my Lillian. She really is a perfect doll-baby. With attitude. Any doubt that it is impossible to love a 2nd child as much as the 1st has been wiped from my mind. The only thing I wonder now is how my rib cage is going to manage to contain my heart. It just keeps getting bigger and bigger to accommodate these little people.

No mother of the year...again.

Damn it! I've taken myself out of the running for Mother of the Year...AGAIN. At this rate I'll never even be nominated.

So Andrew has been wearing my every last nerve the last several days. Here's a short synopsis of yesterday to give you the flavor:

7:30- Andrew wakes up. Hooray! He should be in a great mood since he slept in, right?

8:30- Andrew is taken up to his room for timeout...he bit me hard enough through jeans to leave a mark. And we were just playing...he wasn't even mad.

8:33- I go upstairs to get the requisite "Sorry, Mom." Andrew says, "I'm not sorry. I'm going to stay in my room forever."

8:45- Andrew knocks on the door, says, "Sorry. I was just tendering you were food." (remember...tendering means pretending...he wasn't tenderizing me to eat me or anything)

9:00- When Andrew won't share toys with Lily, I tell him if he can't share his toys, then he can't play with her toys. He says, "Fine, I don't want to play with her toys."

9:30- Lily goes down for a nap. I read books with Andrew and cuddle him and color with him. During all these activities I repeat about 50 times that when Lily wakes up, we're going to go to the library.

10:30- Lily wakes up. I feed her while Andrew watches TV. Andrew refuses to put on shoes. I start counting to three to get him to come to me to put on shoes. He counts back at me. Sarcastically. Snidely. I haul his ass upstairs trying my hardest not to throttle his snotty little butt (oh, how attitude rubs me the wrong way).

Need I go on? We never made it to the library...at least not then. After 2 more time outs and "quiet time" in his room for an hour that consisted mostly of him knocking on his door and trying to make a break for it, I just HAD to leave the house, lest I strangle him. When I finally dragged him into the car he refused to say "please" for a fruit roll-up, instead using this delightful phrase, "When I say I want it, you have to GIVE IT TO ME. You HAVE to. GIVE IT TO ME." When I of course denied him the fruit roll up, he screamed and kicked the seat of the car and yelled, "MOMMY, YOU ARE GOING INTO TIMEOUT. I'M GOING TO THROW YOU OUT THE WINDOW." I did not react to any of it, other than turning the car music on to drown him out. He eventually stopped screaming because he got hoarse. Then we got to the library and he was a little angel, quietly playing computer games and leaving just when I told him to.

-sigh- I love the 3's.

But yesterday isn't even the reason I'm not getting Mother of the Year. On the contrary, I think I handled yesterday pretty well. No, here's the real reason.

Andrew goes to school for 90 minutes on Monday and Wednesday afternoons. I was informed that moms needed to get to school 10 minutes early today so the kids could perform a little Mother's Day treat. I told Andrew this morning that I would be coming into his classroom today.

Apparently, I dropped him off and he CRIED HYSTERICALLY the whole day. The teachers were bewildered. But Andrew thought I was going to spend the entire day with him...not just the last 10 minutes. I feel awful. My poor kid. I totally misled him. He was HEARTBROKEN that I had just dropped him off and not stayed. He wouldn't sing the song or give me a hug. He stood during the performance with his arms crossed over his chest, frowning, and trying his hardest not to cry.

How can a child make you want to pull your hair out one day and totally break your heart with love and tenderness the next? Heck, it goes minute to minute not day to day. Such is motherhood. At least motherhood for a LOSER like me. I think I'll be more specific next time. And I sure as heck ain't going to be missing any school events, that's for sure!

Some pictures

I told you Lily could sit! Isn't she cute!



Mr. Pizza face...just not as cute as his sister in pictures. But I promise he's just as cute in person. Kind of.
Okay, gotta share this picture. Andrew had spilled water on his shirt so he was going around topless. Jeff came home from work and Andrew was watching tv. Andrew said, "Hey Dad! Take off your shirt and watch tv with me!" I, of course, RAN to get the camera. Oh, and I don't beat Jeff...all those bruises on his arm are from fencing. I swear.

Are you having a third?

Okay, here's another disgruntled venting post. Geesh..you'd think with all this beautiful weather I'd be in a better mood.

So the minute you start dating someone, the nosy questions start. The progression goes something like this:

(dating for 3 months) Oh, you've been dating a while, when are you going to get engaged?

(2 seconds after getting engaged) Oh! When are you getting married?

(3 weeks after getting married) Oh! When are you going to have a baby?

(6 months after having baby #1) Oh! Are you going to have a second?

Now, I thought that having achieved all these expectations, I would now be off the hook. I even had a boy and a girl, so I could avoid the inevitable, "Are you going to try for a girl/boy?" question that plagues same sex sibling families.

But, no, it seems that John Q. Public expects an endless stream of offspring to come from my loins. Granted, I get asked a lot less frequently than I did after Andrew, but, Dude, Lily is only 7 months old. Take a glance at how far apart my 2 kids are spaced...even if we WERE going to have a third, we certainly wouldn't be doing anything about it now.

I know it is just meaningless small talk. I am just as guilty of asking people these nosy questions. Although I try to stop myself most of the time. After taking a while to get pregnant, I can't imagine how annoying these questions are to people who are genuinely having fertility problems (I can't ever claim to understand these people...it felt like it took FOREVER for me to get pregnant, but I have managed it 3 times in the 8 years I've been married...so I can't be too pouty about it.) Anyhoo, despite my very minor trip in "I have no kids, even though I want them desperately"-land, I have new respect for how painful these nosy questions can be.

I wish I were really clever. I'd love to tell the checkout lady, "Oh, gosh, yes we're having more. My husband and I would like 12 or 15." Or, "Heck, I've got to figure out who these two kids' daddies are before I start down that road again."

I am a little flattered that people ask. I feel totally inept at handling my 2...it strokes my ego that people would even think I should have a 3rd as I struggle to pen in my pre-schooler and non-mobile 2nd child. It helps to balance out my own mother's opinion, "You should stop at 2." She says it's because I'm so sick during pregnancy, but she has spent a lot of time observing me mothering two...so you be the judge.

In a nutshell...I can't believe I have to field this question again...and so soon. I've got to get something else as a conversation starter...like a bolt through my nose or a really big tattoo on my neck.

Baby farm

Andrew is back. In full force.

Before I start this story, let me explain something. We have a dog...we used to have 2 dogs. We gave Ginger away before moving to KY because she was mean and bit Andrew. I frequently stop Andrew from tormenting Shadow and then remind him that I don't want Shadow to get mean so we have to send her to a farm.

Okay, you are up to speed.

While he was gone this weekend, I got out a box of baby toys for Lily. Now that she is sitting up, I have a whole new bunch of things for her to play with.

Which, of course, Andrew wants for himself. He will be playing with something, and if I sit her down to watch him, he'll turn around with his back to her. Stinker. He won't share...he won't even let her play at all. It's like the moment she puts her attention on something, it becomes irresistible to him.

This is really starting already? So even though Lily could care less, I am fighting the fight for her. Teaching him to respect that she gets to play too. And all the while I'm struggling with him, I think...this is why I had two...this is why I had two...I'm teaching him the world doesn't revolve around him...

Today he had a particularly huge breakdown (in part because he's so out of whack from his big weekend). After he hoarded all the toys from Lily except for one pathetically boring plastic star, I raided HIS toys and found some for Lily to play with. He was NOT happy with me.

So I picked up his hysterically crying self and while cuddling him I explained that Lily lives with us and these are her toys too, so he has to share with her. To which he says, "Can't we give her to a farm?"

At this, we both crack up in hysterical giggles. Tantrum over.

-sigh- Only 20 more years of breaking up fights, right? I should start buying referee shirts now...

To nurse or not to nurse...

I am in a dilemma. And my few male readers may want to just skip this episode of "Moments of Sanity Part Duex"

I know a lot of moms who never breastfed their babies.

I know a lot of moms who effortlessly breastfed until their babies were a year old (or beyond!).

What I want to know is...those moms who made it to a year...was it really effortless? Did you ever have a moment of doubt that your baby wasn't eating enough? Did you ever have to fight with your little one as they refused to wait for your ridiculously slow let down? Did you ever feed your 6 months old every 90 minutes some afternoons and still not seem to satisfy them?

Breastfeeding has not been instinctual for me. I struggled A LOT when I started with Andrew...and only succeeded because of an angel of a lactation consultant. I do not/ can not pump, I have no engorgement, I have no leaking, I basically have no indication that I even produce milk except that my children are not starving.

At least, I was sure of that with Andrew. Dude, the kid was Buddha. But this little peanut I have now fills me with doubt.

So Lily is 7 months old. My afternoon feedings with her are rarely relaxing, because she is so frustrated with me. I don't know if it is because I supplemented with formula a few times so my milk supply didn't keep up with her need. I don't know if it's because I supplemented, and she now knows how stinkin' easy it is to eat out of a bottle. I don't know if it is because I don't drink enough water, or there are too many distractions, or she's just grouchy at the end of the day. I don't know.

She will nurse for 15 minutes and still be fussy. I give her a bottle and she drinks 4-6 ounces. Um...does that mean she's not getting enough breast milk? I don't know. After she nurses, she is usually happy, but often looking for more to eat soon after. After a bottle, she is "milk drunk".

So I'm thinking of formula feeding. I don't want to because 1) I nursed Andrew until he was 9 months, so it doesn't seem fair that Lily doesn't get the benefits until then (see, always comparing) 2) I LOVE breastfeeding, and Lily could very well be my last baby. I don't know if I'm ready to give it up FOREVER. 3) I like being the only one that can feed her. I selfishly don't want to give up my special time with her.

But I'm starting to watch Lily and feel like maybe breastfeeding her is selfish of me. It's starting to look like I'm nursing her because I like it, and not because it's the best thing for her.

-sigh- I wish I knew what to do. I wish babies could talk. I wish Lily could tell me if she was getting enough milk or what the problem is.

Our status right now...? I nurse her. In the afternoon when she is the most resistant to nursing, she gets a bottle. She LOVES the bottle. Literally grabs it out of my hand.

-sigh- Is this really it? My baby?

Okay, NOW I miss him...

It always takes me a day to miss Andrew. Is that terrible? The first day away from him is like a refreshing break. He probably feels the same way. Then after about 24 hours, I really miss him. I miss crawling into bed with him while we wait for the clock to say "7". And I miss the way he makes me laugh (like Friday when I crawled into bed and he said, "Hello Darlin'".). I miss answering "Why?" a thousand times every 10 minutes. Okay, I don't actually miss that. But I miss his little voice.

A few weeks ago, I was feeling bad that I never listen to music with Lily. With Andrew we used to sing to Elmo, etc, before he was even a year old. After this weekend, I realize why. I sit and talk to Lily, but she kind of just stares back at me and I run out of things to say. So I turned on some music to just fill the silence a bit. Which brings me to a realization I remember having when Andrew was a baby.

Babies are boring.

They are adorable and cute and fun in their own way. But they can only do a few limited activities, and they certainly can't hold up their end of the conversation. I've gotten used to talking about the paper with Andrew and discussing our day and arguing over whether to get dressed or not and singing, "Pop! Goes the waffle" to the toaster. Watching Matchbox cars have races and being ordered around to a million chores. We go to parks and places fun to run around. My house is usually filled with the chatter of a 3 year old. It is dreadfully quiet right now. Well, not dreadfully. I get to hear the coos and ahh's of my 7 months old, after all. But I can tell she's bored with me too. She's used to Mr. Action to watch all day. Boring old Mom just doesn't cut it.

So I'm ready for my boy to be back. Some of you with only children interpreted my last post as implying that having 2 children is hard. It's not. I'm one of the laziest people I know, and I manage to do it quite effortlessly...most days anyway. So it's not hard. Just hard-er than one kid. And it's way more fun.

Hello? Where is everybody?

It is QUIET.

Andrew and Jeff drove to Warren, OH for a wedding this morning, leaving Lily and I behind for a girl's weekend.

And it is QUIET.

I forget how much Andrew talks until he is gone. I haven't had to answer a single "Why" today.

Funny, when I had just Andrew, and Jeff would go out of town, I'd have my mother fly in and help me out. Now that I have 2 kids, having just Lily feels like a vacation. Seriously...having one kid is frickin' easy! We had a delightful "girl's day"...I was able to cater all of my outings to one child's schedule...there was no waiting for one to wake up, only to have to cajole the other to get in the car, etc etc. Frickin' piece of cake.

So now I want to thank all the parents of two or more for not laughing at me or belittling me when I complained while having just the one child. It is hard to have just one child...because you don't know what it's like to have two. Just as I'm sure that those parents of 3 children are saying, "Dude, if I just had two kids it would be like living on easy street."

Anyhoo...Lily and I had a delightful day. She woke up at 5:30...God only knows why...and we played in our pajamas and ate a leisurely breakfast. She napped. I finally put up the wallpaper border in the kids' bathroom. Lily woke up. We went out to lunch and shopping. Came home and Lily napped (it's amazing how well this kid naps when I cater to HER schedule instead of trying to make her fit into Andrew's). I cleaned the toy room and kitchen and then played a computer game. Lily woke up and we went to an AMAZING state park and walked for an hour. Just walked...Lily staying in the stroller the whole time and never once whined. Came home and ate dinner and now she is happily playing on the floor beside me while I type.

Oh wait...she's having the 6:30 meltdown. Gotta go! But just think...when she's in bed, I'm all done for the night! Yippee!

She sits!!!

Lily is officially sitting! Actually, if she was my first child, I probably would have written it in her baby book 3 weeks ago. But now that I know what sitting up actually means (not just balancing for a few seconds...actually able to sit for minutes on end playing, etc), poor Lily looks delayed. I'm not even going to tell you when Andrew sat up for the first time...because I'm trying not to compare. It is glorious and exciting that Lily can sit up! She is so daggone happy with herself and LOVES her new vantage point.

I'll post pictures as soon as I take some. I've been a real slacker-Mom lately. ;)

Nose biter

My daughter is weird. I don't know where she gets it from...but she's weird.

She is a nose biter.

Lily still doesn't have teeth...and when she gets them, this strange obsession of hers will be nipped in the bud. But while she's still gummy, we indulge her desires.

If you get your face close to hers, she reaches out, grabs your ears and pulls you in. It looks like she's been watching too many soap operas and is going to plant a big dramatic French kiss on you. But instead she guides your nose into her mouth and proceeds to try and take the cartilage tip off. It can HURT, I tell you. And she LOVES to do it.

Weirdo. Even weirder is Andrew telling people that she is a nose biter. You should see the looks I get. Oh, and Andrew was asking how many fingers Lily was in age. I explained that she hasn't reached a whole finger yet, so she's like half a finger. Now he introduces her like this, "This is my sister Lillian. She's half a finger."

Strangers look at us like we're a freak show. And with a nose biter...perhaps we are quickly becoming that.

Creeping towards 200...

Ever since the day I was born, I've been creeping towards 200 pounds. The process has sped up a bit since I started college. The only time I've successfully lost weight was during the first 20 weeks of both my pregnancies. Well, I don't own a scale, so I may have only known about it because my doctor was weighing me. But judging on my ever increasing pants size, I'm pretty sure I haven't lost weight. I'm not sure how close to 200 hundred I am...but I'm guessing I'm probably around 170 right now. And since my husband is quickly approaching 200 also (from the other direction), I would really hate to pass him on his trip down the scale.

So here we go again. Pregnancy is such a great guilt free time! My doctor was instructing me to gain more weight. -sigh- If only I could keep that metabolism all the time.

I know the key to me losing weight is exersize...another feat I have never successfully accomplished. But more on that in a moment...

My first step was to curb snacking. I now make myself drink a full glass of water before indulging in any snacks. Result? A lot more peeing. So I needed to make myself more accountable for what I was eating between meals.

I decided that the best way to get an idea about how much I was eating was to keep a food log. I planned on writing everything that I ate for about a week and then I could access what to cut out, etc. Food log writing started last Monday.

It was so embarrassing that I immediately started to curb my snacking. So much for writing down for a week...it shamed me into cutting out snacks right away. Here's an example...I keep a supply of fruit roll-ups in my car as ready bribes for a reluctant 3 year old. I was driving to pick up Andrew from school, and I thought, "Hmmm, maybe I'll eat a couple of fruit roll-ups while I wait for him in the car." Immediately followed by the thought, "Dear Lord, how embarrassing to have to write '4 fruit roll-ups' on my list." Because I always have one of each flavor. So bad. So little self control. So I didn't eat them, because I didn't want to face the shame of it in writing. I am quite ashamed to have even written that example down here in this blog. But rest assured...it is just one example of my out-of-control eating during the day.

Now that I have a week written down I've conquered snacking...for the most part. Writing it down has really helped. I'm not even more hungry...how sad is that? Next step...EXERSIZE.

I have a million excuses. It just doesn't get done. -sigh- If only making an exersize log was a motivating as a food log. I really need an exersize buddy...someone to hold me accountable...like a walking buddy or a biking buddy. See, another excuse. How hard is it, really, to just go walk for a half hour a day?

Boy, this is a boring post. Lack of sugar must make me boring. I can't even think of a creative synonym for boring so you don't have to keep reading the same boring word in this most boring of boring posts.

Gosh Darn Garcia

It's a good thing Jeff Garcia got traded to the Buccaneers. Because if he were still in Philadelphia, I'd have to kick his you know what.

I have mentioned that Garcia is Andrew's imaginary friend. Which is really cute. Except that now everything bad that Andrew does...Garcia has done. If I run to scold Andrew, "Garcia made me do it." If he drops something and makes a mess, "Garcia knocked it out of my hand." He refuses to put his shoes on to leave, "Garcia doesn't want to go." You get the idea? Cute...but kind of annoying.

Tonight Jeff and Andrew were playing cowboy. Cowboy consists of running around our first floor with strings from a lacing board. As they are running, they rope interesting animals...like caterpillars and hummingbirds. These are rough and tough cowboys, I tell you. Garcia is always a participant of the game. Lily and I love to watch our cowboys. This is a conversation I witnessed this evening:

Andrew-"Let's go, Cowboy Dad! I'll get a hummingbird and you get the caterpillar!"
Jeff- "Yippee-kay-aye, Mother Hubbard" (Okay, Jeff didn't say this...but wouldn't it have been funny if he did?)
Andrew trips on something (what? in my house? something on the floor to trip on?). He falls hard. Jeff comes over to help him up.
A-"Don't worry, Cowboy Garcia is helping me up. Let's go Cowboy Garcia." And off he gallops holding hands with his imaginary friend.

Instances like this make me feel better. I'm glad that Garcia has a hand and a body and a whole imaginary persona. Because half the time, I'm worried that it is Andrew's split personality coming out.