Saturday, April 30, 2016
C loves Legos. And of course, being only three, I'm referring to Duplos by Lego. Honestly, I am seriously considering never introducing him to real Legos and I'll give you 3 reasons why:
- You can't accidentally vacuum up Duplos. The vacuum just pushes them out of the way.
- You are much less likely to accidentally step on them and if you do, you will probably not teach your kid a new swear word.
- Legos are expensive! You can find "out-grown" Duplos on Craigslist super cheap but people keep Legos forever.
Thursday, April 28, 2016
Last night I was debating to myself about what to do with my morning on my day off. Do I get up extra early and enjoy an hour to myself with a cup of coffee or do I try to sleep in until 7 AM?
I might as well have been debating whether I would prefer to buy a mansion vacation home lake-front or mountain-overlook.
My morning started with a baby-turning-toddler kicking me incessantly in the stomach like an angry kangaroo at 4 AM. This was followed by restless sleep until 6:15, and finally awaking only 15 minutes later than every other day to the
On the bright side, the baby slept in, so I did manage to get a cup of coffee to myself. On the other hand, sleeping in caused her to pee through her diaper, drenching our sheets.
At least I was already planning to do laundry,
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
As I've said before, my daughter doesn't really talk. She has signs for milk, finished, and more. Despite being very vocal, she doesn't really use any words other than the occasional "Hi!" that gets added to her princess wave.
Which is why I was more than a little surprised yesterday when she threw a book off the couch, looked at me, and pointing at the book said, "Get that!"
I know I should just enjoy the moment, but... she could have at least said "please,"
Sunday, April 24, 2016
I know you must be getting sick of talking about puke (pun intended), but since I usually just write about what's going on in my life, that's what you get to hear about.
Last night, I kept thinking, "If we can just make it through the night. Please let us just get through one night without having to change the sheets and bathe a pitiful, crying 3 year-old in the middle of the night." Well, we made it through the night. Turns out that it is about equally as not-fun to change the sheets and bathe the crying kid first thing in the morning. The sad part is, I can't even try to get him to puke in a bucket because he keeps throwing up in his sleep. Poor kiddo.
I have a feeling that his "special blankie" that was already starting to disintegrate has lost about half it's lifespan in wash-cycles during the last week.
Saturday, April 23, 2016
I retract my previous worst puke post. C just threw up boiled eggs, liver sausage bagel, and cherry jello.
In the car.
I'm about to go start the preliminary hosing off.
Wish me luck,
Friday, April 22, 2016
R is not quite 15 months old but she is already scaling the furniture. I can't tell if we have a future traceuse on our hands or just an avid tree climber like her mother. (A traceuse is a female who does parkour, by the way - I just looked that up).
Something about having an older sibling to show her how it's done has pushed her to test her physical limits. Yesterday, she was doing circuits - climbing onto a small chair, then balancing on the back of the small chair, then climbing onto the end table, then onto the back of the couch, then down to the floor, then back to the small chair and repeat. The whole while she was just squealing in delight.
Today, she realized that her new-found ability to pull herself up on the kitchen chairs means that all counter-tops are now at her disposal simply by pushing said chair where she wants it and climbing up.
I don't need to baby-proof my house. I need to traceuse-proof it.
Thursday, April 21, 2016
There are times when I have to stop and remind myself to enjoy the present moment. You know, like pausing to enjoy C being super silly rather than getting annoyed that he's drawing with his yogurt on the kitchen table. I mean, I don't have to let myself get mad. It's just yogurt. We can laugh and he can help me clean it up instead of it turning into some giant fight.
The key here though is "REMIND MYSELF." I do NOT need some random person saying, "Cherish every moment, dear. It goes so fast!"
Every moment? Every moment?
I feel like it's just been too long since that person was woken by a kid (very rightly) upset because he woke up to find he was sleeping in a pool of diarrhea, you know?
Will get back to the cherishing tomorrow,
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
I pretty much let my kids eat what they want/ will (within reason). I do not force them to eat what we are having and they often have strange combinations of foods for dinner. I have never regretted more my decision to allow R to eat mostly liver sausage and black olives for dinner than I did the moment she threw up on me tonight.
Mommy-daughter showering is becoming a thing in my house.
Monday, April 18, 2016
Sunday, April 17, 2016
C saw a man walking with a fishing pole down by the lake this afternoon. After he had been staring for quite a while, I said, "He's going fishing."
C kept staring for a moment. Then he turned back to me, "Like Jesus?"
Not many anglers in the family,
C and R were jumping up and down on our bed this morning while the husband was still sleeping. C was yelling, "We're ninjas! I'm a ninja! R is a ninja! We're ninjas!" The husband was not amused but I'm sure it's only because the irony of a screaming ninja was lost on him at 7:15 on a Sunday morning.
I'm the mom of ninjas!!
Friday, April 15, 2016
C asked me what the white stuff on his Frosted Mini-Wheats was. I said, "That's the sweet part."
He now asks for Mini Sweets.
As with most sweetened breakfast cereal, he's probably more right than wrong.
Thursday, April 14, 2016
Do you ever have one of those days where something happens that makes you wonder if anything will ever be funny again?
Today is one of those days.
There's no joke in this post. Nothing funny. Just a pause. A moment to remember a friend. To grieve with her. To lift her up in this dark moment.
Perhaps some day in the future, I will try to make her smile again with these nonsensical posts, but today, I will just grieve with her.
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
I may never get to see you this summer. My "part time" job is turning out to be part-time only in the sense that it takes slightly less than the million hours per week that it would suck out of me if I were "full time." You know that scene in Princess Bride when they use The Machine on Wesley and it sucks years off of his future lifespan until he's mostly-dead? That was modeled after jobs in healthcare.
The next person to tell me anything along the lines of, "Well, at least you are only working part time" is going to get kicked in the teeth. My anxiety about my job and for my patients is not part time and that is the hardest part of my job.
Mostly dead after my long day,
Sunday, April 10, 2016
Thursday, April 7, 2016
So as it turns out, I've likely been having migraines my whole life and am only now figuring it out because they got worse after having babies. I would wonder why no doctor figured this out after writing "chronic severe headaches" in my medical history on every intake form at every doctor's office I've ever been to, except that I know from experience on the other side that it's because when the doctor would ask, I would always say, "Yeah, I've always had lots of bad headaches" and shrug. I am 100% positive that he or she thought, "well if it doesn't bother you that much..." and moved on.
The only reason I'm probably getting treated now is that it's really hard to minimize dry-heaving in between patients at work.
Turns out skull-crushers are migraines,
Monday, April 4, 2016
My daughter is so talented that she breaks even break-resistant tempered glass dishes with ease.
Sweeping up glass shards,
P.S. Yep, so thrilled that her little hands can reach on top of the kitchen table now.
Sunday, April 3, 2016
Our Grandma and Grandpa were visiting yesterday. Nothing like having your kids meet "new people" to make you realize how strange your children really are.
Great Grandma: I love you hair, C!
C: Thank you. It's made of chocolate, you know.
Me: (to myself) .... what??
Also, we went to Chick-fil-A for dinner and neither of my children would eat anything except for the blueberries and mandarin oranges that they picked out of the fruit cups. I know! They are super weird, right?? I mean, who doesn't like Chick-fil-A??
Friday, April 1, 2016
Before having children, I never realized how uncomfortable someone else's fever could make me.
As I lay awake last night, I imagined that this must be exactly what it felt like when Laura Ingalls Wilder's mother put hot irons wrapped in flannels in her bed.
Well.... except that I wasn't freezing to death in straw-tick bed in a one-room shanty in the middle of winter on the prairie - I was just lying in a very nice bed in a well-insulated house in the spring time. And I didn't have scalding hot irons wrapped in flannels... I just had a hot, naked baby that wanted to touch my skin all night.
Other than that, it was pretty much exactly the same,