End of year chuckles

I haven’t been so hot at the blogging thing lately. Between being back at work full time, moving into our new house, and the hubs traveling so much – it seems like there hasn’t been a moment to take a breath, let alone sit down and write a blog post.

However, the last week was pretty magical and restored a lot of the good humor that seemed to get sapped from me during our move and in general, the entire month of November. Both the hubs and I were not only in the same city last week, but both off from work. So not only did we get a good amount of some much-needed family time, we also managed to get a box or two unpacked. Pretty necessary considering we’re closing out month #2 in the house and it pretty much looks like it did the first weekend we moved in.

Then, it was the first year that T really “got” Christmas. I heart Santa and the wonderful ways he watches EVERYTHING that kids do. We had a really well behaved December purely because of Santa and the elf. (And yes, much to my own dismay, we have an Elf – and I love his powers of persuasion!).

T didn’t sleep the entire month of December in the new house. It was worse than I’ve ever experienced with a newborn baby – let alone an almost 3 year old.  December 1^st (and Santa) arrived (and the cats, ironically, who were staying with Mema and Papa during the move transition) – and Poof! T began sleeping again.

All this to be said, that I am taking a much-needed moment to share my most recent parenting convos.*

Not mine, per se, my hubby’s.

Scene: Our house. Mommy is back at work, daycare is closed until the 2^nd. Daddy’s work is closed until the 2^nd, so it’s daddy single-parenting time.

Convo Recap 1: Approximately 1:30pm

Me: How’s it going?

Hubs: No one will nap….T threw a fit because he wants to ride his bike outside and I can’t take him outside…

Me: Can you take him outside in a bit?

Hubs: I’m not dressed yet. I haven’t had time to shower. OR get dressed.

Me: Giggle giggle giggle.

Convo Recap 2: Approximately 4:30pm

Me: How’s it going?
Hubs: (disgruntled) I am dealing with POOP here!

Me: Ok…..everything ok?

Hubs: P POOPED!

Me: Yes, she does that….So do you want me to order any food and pick something up on the way home for dinner?

Hubs: I haven’t had any time to think about dinner yet. But will you pick up some tonic on the way home?

Me: Giggle giggle giggle.

Scene: Our house. Daddy single-parenting day #2

Grandma to the rescue!!

*And one day, in the future, I will get to writing about (a) our move and (b) my little guy turning THREE . Hopefully before he turns four.

61 Days and counting!

For some reason, I’m abnormally excited about Christmas this year.

Maybe it’s because we will actually have a fire place to hang stockings from this year once we move into our new house next week (ack!). Maybe it’s because I’ve actually had four stockings embroidered with our names – so I’m ahead of the game. Maybe it’s because Tyler has taken a huge liking to new DVDs, and I found this DVD of all the childhood Christmas classics that got me all sorts of nostalgic and I must buy it for him.

Regardless, I can’t wait.

 

That is all.

*I just hope I can fit into some cuter holiday outfits by then, or else I might turn all bah-humbug and scrooge like. These weight-loss plateaus are going to be the death of my cheerful moods.

Sleep and that pesky developmental stage

I think I've jinxed myself. We've been pretty lucky with both kiddos being good sleepers so far. Some of it might be genetic (after all, I really love my sleep) and some of it may have something to do with us being fairly tough in the sleep training department - who knows. But T has consistently slept through the night since he was itty bitty -- and P started around 4 weeks old. Most recently, we've been putting her to bed around 8 and waking her up around 7 in the morning. I totally recognize this is pretty awesome for a 13 week old.

Until this week.

According to the stuff I've been reading online, I've self-diagnosed her to have the 4-month regression a month early. All of the sudden this week, she's been waking up at 4am every single night -- grunting, yelling and finally crying until I go up there and feed her. Granted it's only once a night but it's still a been a killer. First I thought it was a growth spurt because she goes right back to sleep after I feed her -- but as soon as I walk into her room, she gets all smiley and excited to see me -- even though she's just been crying - and to me that's not fussy growth spurt behavior. Last night I decided I was going to let her cry it out....until 5:20am rolled around, it had been going on an hour and a half of her being wide awake, and my alarm for work (did I mention maternity leave is over already? Seriously.) was looming. Fed her and got back into bed for 20 minutes of "sleep" before my alarm went off.

So, several days of this has me feeling like a walking zombie. To the point where a perfect storm of P stretching and her diaper being too loose this AM while feeding her before work led to her somehow peeing out the top of her diaper, staying dry herself but covering my work pants in pee -- and I actually contemplated NOT changing before walking out the door because it would take too much energy.

You'll be relieved to know that I did change out of baby pee-soaked pants before leaving for work. But all I can say is this phase better end soon - or else I can't promise not to get mighty funky looking showing up at the office...

School Pictures

This year’s school pictures came back last night with this gem right on top of the package.

Definitely an outtake

There are so many things wrong with this picture I can’t even begin to list. First, the expression. Part fear, part embarrassment, part Macaulay Culkin of the Home Alone days all show on his face. Then, the shorts are hiked up a few inches too high showing off those pasty white thighs. I’m not sure his sneakers are on the right feet. They usually aren’t. And that tricycle? It’s like out of the 1800s. It looks kind of like a contraption you’d see in a spooky horror movie that a ghost is peddling up and down a driveway. The fake leaves thrown casually in front of the tricycle add to the whole scene.

However, I cannot look at this picture without cracking up. I’ve had some great belly laughs in the past 24 hours, just from looking at it. I find it downright hilarious.

So for that reason, it just might be worth the money to purchase it for the baby book*. So when he’s 15 and feeling way cooler than me, I can whip it out and show it to him. And get another good laugh.

*Luckily one of the other shots is actually picture frame suitable. 

Lost in Translation

I had a pretty funny conversation with T this week that reminded me how literal toddlers are.

We were talking about baby P and how she's a part of our family. He apparently understands that he's the big brother, that P is the little sister, and that she's here to stay. Even daddy is understood to be P's daddy. However, when mommy comes into the equation, he looks at me like I've told some sort of funny joke when I mention I'm P's mommy too. "Oh noooo!" is how T responds, all giggly.

So I ask what I am -- and he says "You are helping. P's mommy is in the hospital."

And that's where all the pre-baby books and conversations failed us. They all may have mentioned that the new baby arrives at the hospital -- and mommy and daddy go to the hospital when it's time for the new baby to arrive --  but they don't mention that a mommy can have more than one kiddo. So my kiddo is squarely under the impression that we're just helping P's mommy out while she's stuck at the hospital, forever.

Teaching remembrance

It's hard to believe that 9-11 happened twelve years ago already. I think once we reached the "decade" mark, in a way it has started to feel like a distant memory -- while in other ways, it still feels like just yesterday. And now that I live here in Texas, it feels a little more distant still. I know if I were still in New York City that life would be going on as usual - but there would be more in-your-face reminders to take pause at -- from all the flowers piled up at the fire stations and extra police in the subways to the new Freedom Tower where the WTC once stood.  And to be sure, I'm definitely not advocating not moving on, but I think it's important to take some time out to respect and reflect on this day no matter where you live, and to teach the importance of remembering this day to our kids, even though they weren't even in existence in the remote recesses of our brains at that point in time.

Up until this point, T has been too young to do anything. He still might be in theory, but this year, I took him along on my own personal act of remembrance. Every year, I take flowers to the closest fire station. It's just a little thing that I like to do. I started doing this in 2001 like many other New Yorkers when I felt so helpless and had the need to do something - anything - to show I cared. In the years I lived in the city, the sidewalks in front of the fire stations were always piled high with flowers on this day - as I am sure they still are. It's a little different here in Austin. Here, half the time I end up  dropping them off and driving off as fast as humanly possible because oddly enough, I find it a little embarrassing to do. It might have something to do with the fact that one year, the fireman that was there when I dropped off the flowers seemed to have no clue why he was receiving them.  This year though, since T is obsessed with fire trucks and firemen (in fact, we just booked his birthday party for this year at a fire station*) I thought it could be a learning experience for him to come with me and say "thank you." So I talked about it with him before hand, and he was pretty happy to be getting to go on a post-school trip to the fire station to say thank you to the firemen. Unfortunately, of all days, today the garage doors were shut and there were no firemen to be found. So we left the flowers at the door and said "thank you firemen" to nobody -- but it felt pretty good to pass along a little do-good moment to my crazy toddler.

*Yes, his birthday is in December and I booked the space yesterday. We know I'm a tad anal.

Potty Training Time Part II

...Later that same day...

You may recall a mere few hours ago, I wrote about how potty training was off to a great start. Then, I heard at school that T actually told them he had to go #2 -- and went -- on the potty! I was feeling pretty good about it. My kid must really LOVE pottying. We obviously rock.

Then we got home.

And he was so immersed in Cars that he tried to ignore the potty timer (aka the microwave timer) when it went off. And since mommy and daddy weren't going to let that happen, the situation dissolved into a lovely tantrum about how he didn't want to go potty. Which led to him missing potty timer #2 and having an accident. Which led to an escalation to what we refer to as an epic tantrum in this house -- and a second massive pee accident while having said tantrum. All this OF COURSE woke the baby -- who finally was dozing off on a nap for the first time all afternoon.

It may not be rational to be completely pissed off at a 2.5 year old, but after sitting on a pee covered bathroom floor trying to get him to "go tee tee on the potty"- man, I was ticked*. On the bright side, I've discovered the perk of using the tiniest room in the house for this training -- the pee at least is confined to a smaller area on the floor.

*Not to mention that I actually cooked dinner tonight! (Yes, really!) Which sat there, cold, while my kid freaked out for 45 minutes.

Potty training time

We decided this was it - the time to take the plunge and start to potty train T. A lot of the kids at school are being potty trained (yes - an early form of peer pressure). We actually think that not potty training him has been contributing to some tantrums when it comes to diaper changing, so we decided to give it a whirl ourselves.

You'd think something "natural" like this wouldn't be so nerve-wracking for me, but I've been admittedly petrified. Our school has the policy of "no turning back" -- so this is it. If it takes a week or a year, T is in big boy undies from this point forward. I can't help it, I have carpet and like to do things beyond the walls of our house on the weekends, so that thought is a bit scary to me. However, a week ago, I took T through the big boy underwear section and he fixated on some Planes underoos and has been carrying them with him EVERYWHERE (not past the car - but they go to the couch, the car, and pretty much everywhere in between), so I took that as a positive sign.

We started last weekend after a birthday party and failed nap - so the mood was not the best in the house upon Go time. (That and we insisted he stay downstairs because we don't have carpet down there -- and he wanted to play upstairs with his toys in his room so it started with a bit of a power struggle and a tantrum.) But we had promised the wearing of the Planes underwear, so we followed through. And amazingly, it's been going better than I expected. Sure, there have been a few accidents when the little man hasn't wanted to stop what he's doing to go, and it appears he is afraid to poop in the potty at this point (lovely image, I know), but all in all - it appears to be a good move on our part. I'm not quite sure how we'll leave the house any time soon, but baby steps right?

On the downside, potty training has turned the one and only room in our house that didn't have anything relating to kids into a child-stuff filled room. It's not even funny.  The powder room is the closest room to the main room in our house, so it's now been assigned the title of the potty training room. Our poor guests now have to share the tiniest space in the house with a 2.5 year old boy. Lucky them, right?

Potty training essentials

I fell of the face of the earth

Pretty much.  It's been one of the crazier and more stressful summers of my life...that's for sure.  Well, for starters, baby number 2 decided to make HER debut 5 weeks and 2 days early.  What I thought were really bad Braxton Hicks contractions turned out to be - oops - really labor and I ended up arriving at the hospital 10 centimeters dilated and involuntarily pushing in the car.  Bigger oops.  Long story short, Devon Rebecca then gave us 5 weeks of ups and downs in and out of the NICU until she finally came home on July 19th, her original due date!  Knock on wood we're finally all getting back to a normal routine and she's the sweetest, most precious addition to the fam (not that I am the slightest bit biased).

As Vickie has well documented 2 and 3-year olds have some adjustment issues when their younger siblings arrive.  Actually, "some" might be an understatement.  We're doing much better now but for a month or so there was an epic tantrum at least every 20 minutes and I may have locked myself in the bedroom closet on more than one occasion while praying for patience and sanity.  Wait, that was last night actually.  God answered my prayers in the form of preschool, which has been a much-needed break for all of us I think.  And Audrey loves her little sister so much, I know she's going to be the best big sister in the years to come.

And now it's on to battle the bulge for me.  I have to concur with Vickie that the weight isn't melting off quite as quickly the second time around.  So I'll be braving the 100+ heat with my jog stroller and hoping I can make it more than halfway around the block without passing out.  Stay tuned.

I'm over it.

Having this extra baby weight, that is.

Baby P is now almost 7 weeks old. I know that's not much in the whole scheme of things and I may have a faulty memory from the first time around, but I seem to think that losing the baby weight was easier last time.

Truthfully, I haven't started dieting yet (after this weekend, it's on!). But I don't think I had at this point after T either. I figure I was probably getting more exercise and walking more with T at this point as well - which is a bummer because I'd gladly do it, but if I don't get outside before 10am, it's a hundred zillion degrees. I haven't had any baby blues this time around - which is fabulous and I'm certainly not complaining -- but the only thing that gets me down is looking in the mirror and seeing the extra 20 pounds I'd like to lose in the next 5 days. Oh, and trying on my pre-prego shorts and wondering if they will EVER fit again and not feeling hopeful about it.*

I'm terrified that I'm going to go somewhere without P and someone is going to ask that dreaded question: "When are you due?" And then I might just have to stomp on their foot and run off screaming. And then go home and burn my scale.

So yes, I'm bummed that I'm still fat. And still looking a little pregnant. And I'm totally and completely over it.

*Confessional: I've been trying on my pre-prego shorts since like day 7 after giving birth, when I had such a great parenting day that I thought "surely, this day is going so well that I should just try on my shorts and see if -- for giggles -- they fit. They didn't.

The week in pictures

So, school was closed this week. The hubs was gone this week for the first business trip since baby P entered the scene.  This means it's been the first week that the little man has been around the baby 24/7, sans typical routine, since she was born.  He doesn't seem to be a fan of newborn cries. This also means there was a whole lot of toddler angst.

My week can be summed up by this picture, which doesn't even do it justice.

Scene: One of many epic tantrums. This one may or may not be because I carried a gift in from the garage and tried to close the door to the house.

Single parenting, I am reminded, is hard. Single parenting two kids, is crazy hard. Single parenting two kids who are in a screaming frame of mind --- cue the wine.

Ghetto

T has never been a kid that's into music much. Probably in part because his mommy can't carry a tune and makes up her own words to songs as she sees fit, but aside from some "toddler tunes" (as we call them in our house) - he doesn't seem to have particular favorites to bop around to.

Until lately.

The New Girl season finale a few months back reminded the hubs how much he likes a certain Elvis song so he put some of Elvis's stuff on the system in his car. From this mix, T decided he loved one in particular more than he has liked any other song he's ever heard. He asks for it all the time. Asks daddy to sing it. Looks for any excuse to ride in daddy's truck so daddy will play it. And talks about it constantly. Elvis's "In the ghetto."

So the hubs had to give T's teacher a heads up about it this week at school. If T Is talking nonstop about how he loves "in the ghetto" and how he's "in the ghetto" in daddy's truck, he's referring to an Elvis song and NOT a location. Awkward.

The adjustment

I knew we would have it. That adjustment period that everyone talks about when you bring a new baby into a family where another kid who already rules the roost.  So now, since I'm a mom of two for a little over two weeks now -- I figured I'm enough of an expert to share what I've learned so far.

1. They might be small, but toddlers are very capable of hurting mommy's feelings. Like when they say, "Go away, mommy. Don't come back." Even if they are only ordering you to leave the kitchen and go into the living room. Those words. Yea, still a dagger to the heart.

2. Being the one who everyone (aka, both kids) needs or wants to do everything for them can be a little much sometimes. Until the moment that the older one decides he actually prefers you NOT to do everything for him. He'd rather daddy do it. Even if it just lasts for a day. It still stings, even though it is totally irrational.

3. We thought tantrums were bad before. Until said toddler felt he had to be heard over a baby crying. Then we found out they can actually be louder than anything we've ever experienced. Earplugs anyone?

4. We still don't know what we're doing with potty training.  Is T ready or not ready? Is it too much to take on with a new baby in the house? To train or not to train. No clue. Wish we could hire someone who could take on this task for us though.

5. Swimming lessons are just not worth the aggravation when dealing with a new baby in the house. T obviously has no fear of the water if he has no problem "swimming." We'll blame it on the baby and try again next year.

Swimming lessons turned into a big failure, but at least he's got no fear of the water

6. Recognizing how difficult it must be for a toddler's world to be rocked with a new little one coming in to stay for good and taking some of their hard-earned attention - the sweetness that is (once in awhile) exhibited towards us or towards his new baby sister is even more sweet.  I think our family is going to be A-ok as a foursome....though admittedly, it might take awhile.

I'll take the hugs whenever he's giving them!

Food Aversions?

Everyone always asks if you have any food aversions while you're pregnant. And I've always said no.

However, I think I discovered I had one. Honestly, I thought I had just worn myself out on plain M&Ms. Anyone who has known me for the past 3 plus decades would know how much I generally love them. And how I can't usually go more than a day or two without a bag handful. However, I've shied away from them recently. I'd gladly eat chocolate, don't get me wrong, but I was choosing to pass over plain M&Ms entirely rather than eat them. They weren't doing it for me. In fact, I thought I had just eaten them to the point that I was simply over them. So I thought.

Turns out I must've had a food aversion to plain M&Ms while I was pregnant. Because in the two weeks since the sweet P has arrived, I've eaten more than enough plain M&Ms to make up for a 10 month hiatus. It appears my willpower once again doesn't have a chance against those suckers.

This isn't going to be good for losing my baby weight. (Neither are the icing filled cookies, but that's another food category entirely.)

She's Here!

Our little girl made a slightly early debut into the world this past weekend!

She was born on Sunday with 10 perfect fingers and 10 perfect toes (albeit on huge feet - her shoe selection might lack a little in a few years...). She is the exact spitting image of T as a newborn, which means she looks just like daddy. A little disconcerting to see her in pink because I almost have to remind myself that it's our little gal and not T.

This is about all I can write at the moment because she's decided not to sleep this morning, and has finally decided to snore, only if I hold her. It's quite cute, though makes getting anything, even typing with just my left-hand, kind of impossible.

More to come another, more productive time!

Our baby girl.

T meeting sweet P

I mean really, could YOU tell the two apart? Eerie!

This one is T, by the way.

Pretty

I’ve thought it was super cute over the past few months when my child has used the word pretty in a sentence. He likes Shakira. (He sees her on The Voice during bath time). He thinks she’s pretty. He thinks every pretty girl on TV is called Shakira, and says “Shakira pretty.” And we always agree. After all, Shakira IS pretty. He’s said on occasion “Mommy pretty.”  He’s even said it in the past combined with a hug. And I have totally eaten it up. The hubs totally thinks I’ve taught him that one. I’m not gonna lie, I’ve encouraged it (mommy likes compliments, after all!), but T learned it all on his own. I SWEAR. I was actually hoping that the hubs taught him that one in a sweet romantic moment, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the case – based on his insistence that I could be the only one to teach the kiddo that phrase. So, we’ll give our old daycare provider credit for that surefire and slightly egotistical path to my heart.

Then there was last week. We were on vacay last week in Port Aransas* and T saw a pretty newscaster on TV at lunch. And says that she’s pretty. So, I do what all very-pregnant-ladies-in-need-of-a-surefire-ego-boost would do. I ask him if I’m pretty. And I get a big, fat NO. And an adamant head shake. And then he even goes as far as to clarify, in case I was wondering if he didn’t understand the question. “No, mommy not pretty.” I get it, kid, I get it. 

Seriously.

*A family babymoon? Is there such a thing? Blog on that to come.

Sweet Moments

There are certain things that my little man does in between the tantrums that melt my heart because he doesn't realize how darned adorable they are.

To sum up this past week, I came down with some sort of chest-and-head yuckiness.  Followed on the heels of probably over-doing it while packing up some boxes* and I ended up at the doctor last week because of a slight fear that continuously coughing up a lung and lugging some heavy stuff (toddler included) was setting off some funkiness that could be defined as pre-term labor. I'm fine.  The doctor did allude to the fact that I've got to take it easy a bit more and not over-do it. And she may have asked me about the likelihood of taking off a couple of days of work to relax and recoup and I might have giggled at her.

Anyway, so one of the things I'm trying to do is make a concerted effort not to pick up my 30+ pound toddler around for everything he "must do" to "help" me -- like turning on the microwave, shutting off the lights, opening the garage door, etc. The easiest way to explain this change? Since he's already asked why "mommy is so big" (that was a nice blow to my ego this past weekend) - we've just started pointing to my stomach and saying "Mommy can't pick you up. Mommy's tummy hurts." Cutest thing ever? When little boy sweetness emerges. T came right over and kissed my tummy and said "I make it better." Heart melting. Even more adorable? He reminds me daily that "Daddy has to do it, mommy's tummy hurts" and gives me more "all better" kisses. So, it IS possible for almost two-and-a-half year old little boys to have preciously sweet moments**. My momma's boy.

And the other sweet thing abut this sicky week I've had? The hubs probably doesn't realize it, but he and the little man have reached a new level of cuteness together. Since T has had to re-delegate some of his usual mommy duties to daddy, it has been absolutely adorable to watch them together. It's pretty much a given that T laughs way more with his daddy than he does with me. I might be a little jealous of it already.


*A blog for another time, but the hubs and I might be crazy. We decided we'll be putting our house on the market and building a new house during new-baby time. Which requires getting it up to snuff now. And keeping it perfect until then. [Cue maniacal laugh]

**Until it's time to do something he doesn't want to do and WWIII emerges. Like this morning. Cuteness vanishes pretty quickly then.

Craigslist

I think I've pretty well established on this blog my champagne taste and beer budget predicament, which thankfully has found an outlet through places like eBay and Craiglist.  This pregnancy has sent me into re-decorating/organizing mode and of course I can't afford any of the items I actually want to buy, but luckily it's moving season which means it's Craigslist season.  I find this is the time of year when all the awesome stuff shows up on Craiglist as people move and purge.  So, while the hubs is working every weekend, Audrey and I hop in the car and drive all around Dallas picking up our finds.

This past weekend we scored 2 Land of Nod Storage bins which had been on my wish list for as long as I can remember.  After enough stalking I finally found them - score - and got both for less than the price of one.  These fit perfectly into the bottom of a closet (which I find to be wasted space) and are baby/toddler height so they can easily get stuff in and out.  They're also stackable, although I'm just putting one in each kid's closet for the time being:

Next it was off to the wealthy part of town to pick up our new Pottery Barn Kids Cameron Storage System.  This is going in the playroom I'm creating in our new house, and even better is that it already matches our dark wood furniture.  I got two of the set below and now just need the baskets for smaller toys:

The last 2 items I want are a new coffee table and dining room table.  Ours are both glass and while we *haven't* had an accident yet, with a 2-year old and soon-to-be-newborn in the house I really don't want to push my luck any further.  Only problem is that I can't load and haul these items without help from the hubs, who of course would rather do just about anything else on a Sunday.  So, a bit of manipulation may be required now and then, in the form of me telling him stories of crazy Craiglist ax murderers who might, I don't know, abduct me and stick me in a closet upon arrival.  Unless of course the hubs goes with me to save me [pick the items up].  I know it's not fair, but I get a pass for being the size of a walrus and having heartburn 18 hours a day, right?? :)

Pre-babies Reunion and other happenings

Since our due dates are rapidly approaching (or not so rapidly as it may feel some days), Erika & I decided not long ago that we needed at least one more weekend get together before we experience the temporary insanity that accompanies the arrival of a newborn. Hopefully we both manage to pull ourselves together quicker this time than the first time around and are getting all FOUR of our kids together in no-time, but just to be on the safe side, a pre-July visit was mandatory.

It was a quick visit and of course, due to the Really Big Boy Bed switcheroo and resulting lack of naptime, my child had morphed into a 3-foot tall monster. Tantrums and moodiness aside, it was a great visit. T appeared to have a slight infatuation with "Unkie Ben" - but when he was willing to share a toy or two with Audrey, they were adorable together. Just look at these little future lovebirds.

Sorry for interrupting your table for two, kids.

Together time.

In other news, T ate some cat food this week. By choice. And then went back to the cat bowl and popped another morsel in his mouth. With a smile. Gross.

The Really Big Boy Bed

Another switcheroo for my little man. This time, it was time to move him from the toddler bed (aka, the big boy bed) to the full-sized bed (aka, the REALLY big boy bed). So you ask, why would we choose to do this, when he's been sleeping so peacefully for months now post-original toddler bed adjustment?

Because apparently, we're crazy.

We had a couple reasons for the change -- both which seemed fully intelligent and had the thought processes of parents trying to make life easier for their kiddo before we actually made the change-up.

Reason #1 - we're going on vacation next month, and since he won't sleep in the pack-n-play anymore, we wanted to make sure that sleeping on a big bed wasn't going to be an impossible transition while in a strange house.

Reason #2 - Baby girl will be getting T's crib mattress when her furniture arrives. Seemed better that we pass some of T's things onto the baby slowly rather shake up his world in one fell swoop.

Leading up to the big change-up we made a big deal of the change. T was very impressed with his buddy G$'s big boy bed last month - so we've talked up moving up to a bed that size a bunch. We've also referred to it as the Big Brother Bed -- a special place where little boys who are going to be big brothers get to sleep. Also seemed like it was a successful parenting move.

So the mattress got delivered last week (by a truck, when T was home to watch it arrive -- another parental win!) and we switched the bed last weekend.* T seemed to be very excited about the new bed. He couldn't wait to play on it with his daddy. Until it was time to nap, that is. Since that time, to put it bluntly, sleep has kind of eluded our household.

Someone appears, in theory anyway, happy about his REALLY big boy bed! Appearances are deceiving.

And yes, I know that his pillow is woefully undersized. New pillows to come. The kid hates pillows anyway.

Granted, we seemed to go through this same sleep deprivation when we switched T over to the toddler bed in the winter.  But since then T has learned how to open doorknobs, which has been interesting to say the least. It would be fully adorable to hear T sneak down the stairs and into our bedroom and announce, on multiple occasions, "I awake right now. Daddy get up! Mommy get up!" if it weren't 1AM, 2AM, and so on. We quickly wisened up and put one of those child-proof door knob covers on the inside of the door, which we figure will buy us a little time until he learns to take it off. (Is this considered cruel? Or a simple parenting survival move? I vote for the latter.) Regardless, he's still been waking up constantly, going to the door, and lying down in front of it, circa December. So we started thinking -- could it be because he's facing a different direction? We were looking for T's room to look nice - and so we set it up the way most normal rooms are set up, you know, with the bed situated in a normal way.  After a few rough nights in a row, we decided to move the bed so he's positioned the same way he was in his toddler bed and crib. He's room isn't exactly looking feng shui these days, I'll tell you that. To be honest, it's pretty funny looking.

And while it seemed to help him get to sleep during the first part of the next few nights, it hasn't fulfilled all my wishes and kept him asleep. He's quiet, but we still hear him moving back and forth between the bed and the door again and again, so we're up. And we need some sleep. Desperately.

Here's hoping tonight will be better!


*Right before Erika and the fam came to town to visit! Recap to come. I'm blaming my slow blogging on sleep deprivation!

Consent Forms

I signed my life away this week in the hopes of having a successful VBAC with this kiddo.  My doctor got me all pumped that everything is looking good so far (yay!) and that I have a good chance of making this happen (double yay!) and then he told me to read and sign this consent form:

__ VBACs have approximately a 70% success rate [initial if you have read and understand]

Well great!

__ Or, you might die [initial if you have read and understand]

Hmm...

__ A VBAC will require a shorter hospital stay than a c-section [initial if you have read and understand]

That sounds good

__ Or, your baby might die [initial if you have read and understand]

Well, now, hold on a minute...

__ A VBAC will result in a quicker recovery time than a c-section [initial if you have read and understand]

Sweet, sign me up!

__ Or, your uterus might explode like Tori Spelling in which case both you and your baby might die [initial if you have read and understand]

Uh...

So I signed the c-section consent form too, just in case.

And because I failed my glucose test and am back on my torturous low-carb/low-sugar diet, here's a yummy breakfast-on-the-go smoothie recipe I've been making: 

Banana and Peanut Butter Smoothie

Ingredients:

- 1 banana, cut up
- 1 tablespoon organic creamy peanut butter
- 3/4 cup unsweetened vanilla almond milk (or whatever liquid you want)
- 2 tablespoons vanilla whey protein powder (or whatever protein powder you want)
- 2 tablespoons ground flaxseed
- 1-2 cups of ice, depending on how thick you like your smoothies

Directions:

Blend everything together.

By using almond milk and vanilla protein powder you can really reduce the sugar (there's a little in the peanut butter and banana) and I find the smoothie plenty sweet this way.  A good treat for kids too!

"An efficient fat storage system"

If no one has ever referred to you as such, well, then you're doing better than me.  That is how my doctor referred to me at my last appointment.  I think it's code for, "holy shit woman, what are you eating?!"  He's not a jerk either.  Apparently my body thinks we're gunning for a Weight Watchers/Nutrisystem spokesperson job after this baby is born and that that can only be accomplished by dropping my metabolism to zero.  I had PNEUMONIA last month for God's sake and still gained 5 pounds.  I mean, really??  Let's just hope my efficient fat storage system turns into an efficient fat purging system in 3 months.

So with very slim hopes of passing my glucose test in 2 weeks I've been eating no sugar/low-carb.  And it sucks.  And I caved and ate pita bread last night.  And baklava.  And then I woke up this morning, got on Pinterest, and decided to make these:

They're called "energy balls" but they're basically no-bake cookies.  Audrey ate 3 before I cut her off and they are currently taunting me from the fridge.  I'm an idiot.  But in case you're interested (or looking to transform into an efficient fat storage system yourself), here's the recipe:

Ingredients

• 1 cup dry oatmeal (I used old-fashioned slow-cooking oats)
• 2/3 cup toasted coconut flakes (optional)
• 1/2 cup peanut butter
• 1/2 cup ground flaxseed or wheat germ (I used flax)
• 1/2 cup chocolate chips (optional)
• 1/3 cup honey or maple syrup
• 1 Tbsp. chia seeds (optional)
• 1 tsp. vanilla extract

Stir all ingredients together in a medium bowl until thoroughly mixed.  Let chill in the refrigerator for half an hour.  Once chilled, roll into balls of approximately 1 diameter.  Store in an airtight container and keep refrigerated for up to 1 week.  Makes about 20-25 balls.  Yum.

Shy guy

I think my kiddo is going through a shy phase.

That, or maybe he just takes after his momma and is shy in general.

And a blusher.

So, he’s been asking for our super-sweet babysitter for months now. Literally, waking up and requesting that she read him a book instead of me. (Really?) So, our calendars finally aligned this past weekend. A good friend of mine was in town, and so the hubs and I headed to dinner sans-kid. T's reaction when she showed up? To literally hide his face in my shoulder. The kid who would not stop saying our babysitter’s name on repeat for months now seemed to be pretending that if he didn’t see her, she wasn’t there. Oh, and he was a nice light shade of crimson from the neck up, a la mommy.

A crush in action? Or complete shyness?

This week, he and I took a trip after school and work to go and see his old daycare provider and her husband. We’ve been talking about this for a few weeks now. He was totally excited to see them – and “Toots” (his favorite of her dogs). So…We leave school in a hurry because we can’t wait. We talk about them in the car. We pull up. Big smile. We get out of the car. We run to her side gate, run through it and up to the door. And then he sees them. And freezes. And hides his face again behind my leg. And won’t talk. And blushes. And while he likes playing with her toys – he takes almost an hour (an hour!!) to warm up to her enough so that he doesn’t have to drag me across the room by the hand to show her his Cars band-aid.  It was raining a bit out, so it wasn’t great weather to play outside, which he was desperate to do there. When we were leaving, we stopped to play for a bit in the side yard that he spent so many days in – and there – that’s where he finally warmed up completely, showed off his new pedaling tricks, said he didn’t want to go home, and finally blew kisses good-bye.

But really. Is this a new phase? Or is my child turning into his blush-at-the-drop-of-a-hat mommy?         

Worst Mom Ever

For the record, when I checked the weather early yesterday to plan T’s clothes ahead in my head for the rest of the week, I focused on the “highs” in the 70s part. I also had a friend’s email on the brain, who is coming to town this weekend and mentioned the warm weather and maxi dresses.

When I stuck my head outside of the front door this morning to double check the temperature before getting T dressed, I might not have thought about the hot, humid air getting stuck under our front porch and not being exactly accurate.

So the fact that my child is at school in shorts and a t-shirt with no sweatshirt or coat in the pouring rain when the weather on my phone is showing at 43 degrees and a windchill of 37…totally not my fault, right?

Total. Mom. Fail.