Boy behaving badly

Today could have been my single-most embarassing day as a parent.

We are in Peoria at my in-laws' house this week so the kids can see Josh after work. Today, my mother-in-law and I took the children to a department store so I could shop for shoes.

I have written about the hell that is shoe-shopping with the kids before, but suffice it to say I did it once by myself and I would rather walk barefoot over hot coals before doing it again.

So I brought reserves with me. I tried on a few pair and didn't find anything I really liked, and we admittedly might have stretched it a wee bit too long. To pass the time, Grandma gave the kids some books to look at in the stroller. Emmie thought hers resembled a sandwich, so she tried to gum it into oblivion. Jack's made music and he was grooving on it, so all was well.

Until we reached the checkout.

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNN ... cue the foreboding music.

He somehow got Emmie's book in his hot little hand and didn't want to give it up. Not sure if he didn't want the clerk to touch Emmie's stuff or if he wanted to deny Emmie her purchase or if he felt we were being overcharged, but he lost his damn mind.

There was crying of real tears and the wrestling of the book from his hands and promises he would get it right back and finally I told him with a stern face that he needed to stop and act like a nice boy.

I handed the cashier the book, she rang it up and I handed it back to Jack.

He then THREW THE BOOK AT THE CASHIER.

I had to stop for a split-second because I didn't believe he really did it. Oh, but he did. He looked me in the eye and laughed.

I immediately grabbed him out of the stroller, put him in a timeout near the door and then marched him back to apologize to the woman. Which of course he didn't really do. But I did, profusely.

Abd then I took him to lunch, because I was hungry. Stellar parenting right there, isn't it? Throw shit at people and get rewarded with pasta. I will now slink off to the Bad Mommy corner.

Road weary

I definitely need a vacation after my vacation.

We stayed out late every night, gambling and/or drinking, and I still woke up early every morning to pump. I consumed way too much junk food, dairy, beer and wine. I bared my post-baby body in a bikini and no one ran inside after being blinded. I single-handidly propped up the economy in Nevada and learned three glasses of champagne at 1 p.m. is probably two glasses too many.

But when Emmie saw me this morning at the side of her crib, it was the best feeling in the world. She blinked, and then her eyes got huge, and she buried her face in my neck with a smile. Then she demanded the boob.

Jack smiled and kept tackling me and jumping all over me when he got up from his nap. I guess that was his way of welcoming me back.

It's nice to be missed. I'm glad to be home.

Wedding bells

I finally have some pictures of the kids from my sister-in-law's wedding and I could not be more happy with how they turned out. But when did my baby turn into a little boy?

Bet on it

For a SAHM I sure go on vacation a lot don't I? Spoiled brat, you're probably thinking. But it's because I am a SAHM that I need vacations. Have you ever spent four straight days wiping snot off every surface of your house and both your kids? You did? And you didn't go to Vegas afterward? Well you should lodge a formal complaint.

So anyway, we're here for Josh's work meetings and then we're sneaking in a trip to see our friends in San Francisco over the weekend, with a stop in Napa.

You know what's the most annoyong part about traveling without the baby? I still have to get up and pump. So there I was this morning, 7 a.m., wide awake and kachunk-kachunk-kachunking along.

I'm going to the pool now. To read. With no sand toys or life jackets or splashing or cries of having to go home so we can pee in the potty.

Why?

It's started.

Three times this past week I have said something or other to our boy Jackson in the course of a conversation and he has replied, "Why?" When I heard that word my eyeballs spontaneously melted and rolled down my face.

I am not ready for The Why yet. I need a few more months! He's not supposed to be asking that until he's 3! I feel gypped! Why am I using so many exclamation points?!

However, the good thing about The Why is it shows how far his language has come. Shortly before he turned 2, I was worried because he wasn't even saying two-word combinations. But just yesterday, he said to me, "Ma go home, work in office." Subject, verb, compound sentence -- I think he's doing fine in the language department now. (Ma is what he calls Grandma.)

But he still says really cute stuff too, which I know will go away faster than I can write them down.

"Jack go home, play chicken." -- He calls his little play kitchen "chicken."

Applesaucer -- Emmie's exersaucer.

Narnie -- Aunt Marnie.

Fansin -- Aunt Marnie's dog, Madison.

Miss Wiz -- His teacher, Miss Liz.

Noodle cheese -- macaroni and cheese.

Mook -- Milk, different from "Guk," which is what he called it for a long time.

Fwim Shrunks -- Swim trunks.

Peepot -- Pizza.

Twenty-eleven -- The number he says after 22 every time he counts.

Love you too -- How he says "I love you," even when he says it first.

Covered in snot

We went to the lake again this weekend and both my children decided it would be a good time to cover ever available inch of me and the house with their snot. Jack started first on Friday and Emmie wasn't far behind a few hours later.

Of course for Jack, it's not that huge of a deal. We chase him around the house with a Kleenex a few times and he acts like a whinybutt and he sleeps more than usual. No biggie.

But Emmie is a whole different ball of wax. I finally had her sleeping 7 p.m. to 4 a.m. this week, putting herself to sleep in her crib, and now the sickness strikes. She can't breathe with a pacifier or her fingers in her mouth because her nose is running like a faucet, so she can't soothe herself to sleep or back to sleep. So she screams and cries mutliple times a night and I have to go in there. Last night I ended up putting her to sleep in her swing so she would be propped up and able to breathe.

Of course, she fights me on the nose sucker like she's drowning and heaven forbid I should try to wipe her nose. Oh, the horror.

This little illness should strike me down in about two days, which would make it just in time for our trip to Vegas and San Francisco later this week. Because nothing says "child-free vacation" like a stuffy nose and the smell of Vicks.

The finished results

The Great Remodel of 2008 is mostly complete, save for a few finish items here and there. As I promised, I do have photos!

Here are the big before and afters...

Looking back



Main wall of the living room



Looking front


New staircase


Those shelves are my pride and joy. I want to make out with them and I stare at them all the time thinking how awesome it is to have such a great place to show off my books.

Now that we have been living down there for a few weeks, I couldn't be happier with the results. The pain and suffering was all worth it. The kids have a place for all their toys and now the upstairs living room and kitchen look so awesome and clean and neat without plastic items strewn about on every surface.

Just today I was sitting downstairs trying to show Emmie how to crawl on the carpeting and Jack was playing with his new kitchen when I thought about how lucky I am. Thanks to Josh for making it possible for us to expand the house and keep me home with the kids.

Now about that third-floor bathroom, there's some changes I think I want...

Doing his own thing

Jack has always been a bit of a "free spirit" when it comes to classes (music, art, play). He's always been one to run around when he's supposed to be sitting in the circle or doing an activity all the other kids are doing. In art class, he was pretty good, but I was the one keeping him on task the whole time and making him sit rightnexttome. Not to mention the fact 99 percent of the projects at that class were done by me. I am Picasso with the fingerpaints, let me tell you.

Now, he's doing the same thing in preschool. The three days he has gone, I have looked in at the end of the class and the other kids are on the rug singing a song and my kid is on the other side of the room playing with toys. I asked his teacher about it Tuesday and she said he does not participate, but she doesn't think it's that big of a deal. That day, all the kids made an art project and Jack played with toys. Maybe he has something against construction paper and tissue, but I haven't seen him express a preference for working with clay or paper maiche as his medium, so I have to discount that theory.

His teacher told me their classroom beliefs are such that they would never force a child to do something and that she will try to engage him to take part every few minutes, but if he doesn't want to do it, he won't have to.

Now, I understand this is only his second week of school. BUT. This is a pattern. He acts like this in all his other classes and now there. We even had the same thing happen at his first soccer class last week and it was a disaster because all the other kids listened and followed directions and Jack refused to do any of it. They said run this way and he ran the opposite way. Let me tell you, that's not the way to train for winning a World Cup. Josh left the class with him because it was such a production.

I know he's only 2 1/2. I know I sound like a paranoid helicopter mom. But should I be worried? I don't want to see this become something that he does forever. Being a free spirit is fine, but you have to learn how to play the game when it comes to education or you won't succeed. I know it's just preschool, but I am really thinking this is a part of his personality. Josh thinks it's because he has no fear of us punishing him for not listening, so he doesn't ever have to do what we say. I don't think that's it, but I am stumped.

Of course, the only time he sits as he's supposed to with the other kids? Snack time. He's no fool.

Emmie: Eight months

Dear Emmie,

Today is your eight-month birthday. While it doesn't mean you have the right to vote or to drink a beer, it does mean you are now legally allowed to eat Cheerios. I'm not sure that's as momentous as turning 21 and drinking your face off in a bar in some college town, but it will have to suffice for now.



This last month has been pretty busy, what with a family wedding and trips to the lake and the completion of our new downstairs play area.

It's also been exciting because you finally started gaining some weight! Yep, that deserves an exclamation point because it's been a hard road since your six-month checkup revealed you were not gaining properly and were only in the 5th percentile. After we started stuffing you with solids three times a day and sneaking avocado and banana into almost everything, you gained 1.5 pounds in a month, putting you at a whopping 15.9 pounds, which is the 12th percentile. While you still have a ways to go, you are showing good progress, and we've got you eating two jars of food at each meal. I am pretty sure you will retain your thinness for the rest of your life, though, based on the skinny genes you inherited from Daddy. Which should help if skinny jeans ever come back into style. Yes, I just made a terrible pun. You can die of embarassment now.



You certainly won't need to worry about losing weight from all that moving you are doing. Because you're pretty content to not move anywhere. And why would you? If I'm not holding you, then you're sitting on the floor and your brother brings you your toys. You have no need to try to crawl. In fact, you must really not like the thought of crawling on your hands and knees because you scoot around on your butt. You stretch your legs out in front of you and dig in your heels and then pull your butt toward your knees, like some bizarre upright inchworm. You don't move fast, but you do move yourself enough to reach any object that catches your fancy. You also are grooving on the move where you reach for something, realize it's too far away, roll onto your back, roll back onto to your stomach so you've gone forward a few inches and reach out again. With your two modes of transportation, you can get pretty much anyplace you want to be.

You pulled yourself up a few times this past weekend, mostly from a sitting position on the couch with the arm of the couch as your leverage. You also pulled yourself up on Grandma, who was very excited to see such activity. But to be honest with you, I am nowhere near ready for you to crawl. Right now I can put you down on the floor with a few toys and you are right where I left you when I come back. Not that I ever leave the room. No, I am there watching you with both eyes 100 percent of the time. That's why it's so odd that you were able to launch yourself over the side of the bouncy seat in the kitchen last week and I found you hanging upside down with the seatbelt still in place around your waist. Can't fathom how that one happened.



I imagine the bouncy seat fiasco came about because you are getting extremely curious about everything now. You try to grab your food when we feed you, you want all of Jack's toys and you find the teeny tiniest little specks of crud on the floor and study them with interest. Right before you stick them in your mouth. It's so fun to watch you play now because you figure things out. You are starting to see how your toys work and different ways to play with them. You especially like standing up (mostly with our assistance, but sometimes on your own for a few seconds) at your activity table and moving all the buttons and levers and making the lights and sounds come on.


Your days of activity, combined with a little boost of Cry It Out, have resulted in much longer stretches of sleep at night. We've gotten eight straight hours from you several nights in the last week and you've definitely dropped the 11 p.m. feeding. Finally. It only took 7.5 months, but who's counting? The awesome part is that we can now put you down awake in your crib, turn on the sleep machine and the crib soother, and leave the room. Sometimes you fuss for a few minutes, but generally you are content to put yourself to sleep. You wake up once or twice during the night to eat, and I am fine with that for now. You're still breastfed on demand and you've settled in to a schedule where you clamor for the boob about four or five times during the day and a couple times during the night. We put you down for the night at 7 and you wake up for the day around 7:30 a.m. with naps at 9:30 a.m. and 2 p.m. At night, you wake around 1 a.m. and then come into bed with us for the rest of the night where you usually eat about three times. It's a good little schedule that is starting to work for everyone.


Your brother started school this month, just two times a week for two hours, and you seem to notice he is gone. You look around for him, but then are happy to go on about your busines, so you must not miss him too much. But you still adore him as much as ever. He must feel the same way because a few weeks ago, he said, "Love you Emmie" without any prompting from anyone. Just the other night you were sitting on the floor in the bathroom while he was in there and you were laughing these gut-busting giggles at him. Then he started laughing at you laughing, which made you laugh even harder. It brought tears to my eyes because I was so glad to see how happy you make each other. I know someday when you are annoyed with him as a teenager it will be hard to believe, but he will be there for you and you for him all of your lives. I hope you have the kind of relationship your daddy and I have with our siblings, because it's so awesome to have a built-in friend who has to put up with your crap even when no one else will.


This past month also saw your first foray into formal attire when you were the flower girl in Aunt Marnie's wedding. Jack was the ring bearer and he pushed you down the aisle in a little wagon and you two were quite possibly the cutest kids ever. You hung on and smiled and Jack stopped to ham it up for the crowd and everyone oohed and aahed over the two of you. You were so well-behaved and did a great job. But don't get any ideas that it means you get to attend any more weddings. No weddings for you until you are old enough to sit quietly and stay up late. So I guess that would be in about 11 more years. Maybe.


I have a feeling we are the cusp of several developmental changes this coming month and I hope separation anxiety is not one of them. You are still a pretty social baby, once you warm up to people. When you first encounter anyone other than me, Daddy or Jack, you turn your head into my shoulder and play coy. But then you peek out to see them again, and after a few seconds, you start smiling and interacting. The weekend of the wedding we left you with a non-family babysitter for the first time and you did great. You played and ate and slept fine, which was great because know we know if we needed to leave you with a sitter, we could. As always, the best part of leaving you is seeing you again for the first time. It's like you haven't seen me for months and you get your legs pumping and your arms atretching out for me and you make this excited noise that you only make when you see me. And it's the best part of any night out or any trip away. I hope you are always this excited to see me (although I know you won't be) because it's how I feel every time I look at you. I want to pump my legs and stretch out my arms to you and let you know how much I love you.

Love,
Mommy

Something smells

For the last week, Josh and I were under the impression that the recently-remodeled bathroom downstairs had a funk to it because they didn't properly seal some sort of pipe. Or the toilet. Or something (waving my hands in the air, encompassing anything that may or may not be smelly down there).

Today, one of the guys working on our house informed us that no, the pipes were fine. It was the ceiling that was rank. You see, a small bubble in the drywall on the ceiling that we thought was old and innocent and nothing to worry about was -- wait for it -- a leak from the toilet upstairs.

Seriously. Is this a joke? Are we on some sort of weird candid camera house rehab show? Is someone going to jump out of the crack between the baseboard and the floor (that would be the result of the half-inch drop we've experienced in the living room since the sill beam was replaced) and yell "surprise" and give us a whole new house?

No? Well, that sucks.

So we had to shut off the toilet on the main floor for the next week until they can replace the seal and let it dry. Yes that would be the bathroom Jack uses to pee several times a day and now he is all in a tizzy about it not working and crying "Pa fick it! Pa fick it!" Translation: Grandpa fix it. Because my father-in-law is a super genius and can fix anything (seriously) and Jack knows where it's at when it comes to getting his potty repaired.

In the meantime, I am just putting my fingers in my ears and singing "lalalalala" and ignoring the whole affair.

So in the spirit of ignorance, here's some pictures of my kids! Together! Which never happens anymore because Jack acts like I am the papparazzi and he is Lindsay Lohan.


Raw sewage in the ceiling? We love it!

Gaining on you

Emmie had her one-month follow-up appointment with the GI doctor today. Seeing as I have been stuffing food or a boob in her face every time she turns around, I had no fear about her weight gain.

Little Miss Failure To Thrive topped the scales at a hefty 15 lbs 6 ounces, which is 1.5 pounds more than she weighed a month ago, and puts her in the 12th percentile for weight. Go Emmie!

She's also up to the 75th percentile for both height and head circumference. So I would say she's thriving. Doctor said she looks great and wants to see her gain even more as she has some catching up to do.

He told us to keep doing what we're doing with the food and even bump it up a little bit, giving her more food at each sitting.

Unfortunately, that doesn't apply to me. I don't get to eat as much as I want at any sitting. I also don't get to eat any dairy yet. He said this is on the young side to outgrow the milk protein intolerance; most kids outgrow it between 12-14 months.

Oh pizza, how I miss you. And chocolate shakes. And grilled cheese.

I am going to weigh about 300 pounds after I wean this kid with all the forbidden foods back on the list.

Puddle jumper

This afternoon we were enjoying a perfectly lovely outing at the park, when Jack decided to be a boy.

Emmie and I were sitting on the bench right next to the sandbox, she was grabbing my face and kissing me with her open mouth, and I was both interacting with her and telling Jack not to dump another child's bucket of water into the sand.

As an aside, let me tell you how much I hate the water fountain next to the sandbox at our park. The kids fill up these huge buckets from the spigot and then flood the sandbox. And I hate the messy. So this is displeasing to me.

Anyway.

Of course he doesn't listen to me and dumps a 40-gallon bucket into a hole the size of a grave. And then he jumps in it. He's wearing tennis shoes. Gross. Now his socks and shoes are not only filthy, but sopping wet.

I then see him look right at me, with a gleam in his eye. I am not even kidding, it was eye contact of the worst kind, with a full-on smirk accompanying it. He then sat down IN the puddle. And moved his little denim-covered butt around for good measure.

"Jack, that is just gross," I announce from my perch. He laughs, grabs a handful of sand and EATS IT. What is he, eight months old again?

I order him to rinse his mouth out and spit and he laughs hysterically the entire time. I know kids getting dirty is good for their creativity, but seriously? Rubbing his ass in a puddle is not going to win him any points with the ladies.

Jack's first day of school

You'd think a child who has never seen the inside of a daycare center or the face of a babysitter other than immediate family members might have been a tad tentative about going to school. What with the leaving of the parents. And the staying there alone. Without mommy or daddy.

If you are talking about my child, you would be wrong. Because he was so excited to be at school today that when we arrived, he dropped our hands, launched himself into a hug with his beloved teacher, Miss Liz, and took off to play with the toys, leaving us in his wake.

We said goodbye and told him we were leaving and we walked out into the hall. We heard most of the other kids crying, one even ran down the hall after her parents. Our kid could not have cared less. No tears from him, nosiree.

We came back two hours later, after a delightful child-free morning at Starbucks (Emmie was with her aunt so we could make this morning all about Jack), and peeked in the window of the classroom door. We saw the kids singing a song on the carpet, while Jack and another boy were on the side playing with trucks.

Afterward, his other teacher, Miss Melissa, told us Jack had a great day exploring the classroom. Translation: your kid can't sit still and participate in circle time. I hope he can get it together by Thursday.

All the other kids ran out to greet their moms and dads, hugging them and smiling. Mine refused to come out of the classroom, and did so only to say hi to one of my Mommy friends. When we told him it was time to go home, he cried and said, "No go Jack's house! Stay!"

Apparently Jack is a fan of preschool. And I couldn't be more proud of him.

Operation Wedding a success!

We are just back from the big wedding weekend and getting ready for FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL in the morning, but wanted to let everyone know the kids performed perfectly at their aunt's nuptials and all went off as planned.

Jack pushed Emmie down the aisle in his little wagon, he hammed it up for the guests, let people take his picture and acted like a little gentleman. Emmie held on for dear life, smiling and generally looking like a little queen being carried about by her servants.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief after they made it up the aisle and grabbed a drink straight away after the ceremony.

Would you believe, we have no pictures of them? Seriously. The professional photographers won't have the pictures ready for my sister-in-law until November. There were a zillion camera flashes going off while they were walking up, but so far, no one has any shots of them.

I know some family and friends read here, so if anyone who was at the wedding has any pictures, please send them along to us via e-mail would ya? The masses need to see the cuteness.

Wedded bliss

We're in Peoria this week, getting ready for my sister-in-law's wedding.

Jack and Emmie are supposed to be in it; Josh and I are in it. In theory, Jack is going to be in his tux and Emmie is going to be in her flower girl dress and he's going to push her down the aisle in a little wagon.

I am not sure that is actually going to happen. When you're dealing with a 2.5-year-old and 250 people looking at him, all bets are off.

If you know me, you know I am diabolically opposed to kids at or in weddings. I just don't think it's appropriate and I can not stand the sight of a young child sliding on his or her knees across a dance floor. At a friend's wedding a few years ago, her pre-teen cousin cleared the dance floor and performed a dance routine by herself to a Justin Timberlake song. The bride is still pissed about it four years later. I mean seriously, WHAT were the parents thinking letting that happen?

So the fact that my kids are in this wedding is a huge deal. If it was anyone else but their aunt, they would not be allowed within 50 miles of the venue. But since she's the bride, and it's her day, she gets to call the shots.

She can't, however, stop me from wearing a huge sign on my back reading: "I am not in charge of my children today. See the bride to complain about discipline issues."

Faking it?

I must admit, I am riveted by the Sarah Palin pregnancy scandal. No, not the part about her teenage daughter being pregnant. The part about her supposedly faking the pregnancy of her youngest son and actually being his grandmother.

Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnn. This is better than anything I read in US Weekly lately.

I don't usually get all political, but I got this via the Daily Kos and found it interesting.

March 6th – Sarah publicly announces she is seven months pregnant. Everyone, even close staff members were totally surprised, with no one speculating she was with child.

April 16th – When in Texas for the Republican Governor's Convention to give a keynote speech, she allegedly began to leak amniotic fluid, a full month before the due date. But she didn't rush to the hospital but just called her doc and went on to give her speech. "I was not going to miss that speech," she says.

After speaking you'd think she rush to a local Dallas hospital but instead she hopped on an Alaska Airlines plane for an eight-hour flight back home, with a stopover in Seattle. She didn't let the airline know that she was pregnant and in labor. Most airlines require to be notified if you are seven months or more pregnant. (although Alaska doesn't insist that passengers let them know). "Governor Palin was extremely pleasant to flight attendants and her stage of pregnancy was not apparent by observation as she didn't show any signs of distress," Airline rep Caroline Boren said."

She lands in Anchorage and instead of going to one of the most equipped facilities for premature births in the state, she drives 45 minutes to the Mat-Su Regional Medical Center outside Wasilla, the tiny town she was once mayor of. She "delivered" Trig one month prematurely and then returned to work three days later. "The doctor, Cathy Baldwin-Johnson, approving of all of these actions borders on malpractice. Not treating leaking amniotic fluid causes infections, and time is of the essence after water breaks. Husband Todd Palin simply delivers this winner of a line: “You can't have a fish picker from Texas."

In regards to her daughter, at the time of her mom's "pregnancy," she was pulled out of high school due to catching mono. She was out of school from five to eight months (with cases of mono usually lasing 2 weeks to 3 months).

As someone who has had her water break, I can tell you, it's not like there's a huge sense of urgency. For God's sake, I showered, packed, downloaded a bnch of iTunes and fixed a toy for Jack before finally leaving for the hospital. But I didn't deliver a political speech and then get on an eight-hour flight with a layover. I think that's pushing it a little.

As for the daughter having mono, it's plausible. But still sounds really fishy. And if the daughter really was sick with mono, the timing of her pregnancy would mean she got pregnant while she was sick. Really? Dude, who is hooking up when she feels like ass?