Minutiae

Yesterday I left for work early - I had an all-day meeting and needed to make sure I wasn't late. M. dropped the kids off, and since I was up early, he and the kids were up and ready early, too. He dropped them off right around 7 am. My meeting, which was supposed to end by 4:30, was still going strong when I snuck out the door at 5:20 in order to make it to school by its 6:00 p.m. closing time. I barely made it. This meant the kids were at daycare for just about 11 hours yesterday.

In an effort to distract the kids from our abbreviated evening, I got them Burger King for dinner. Kind of like bribery, but they didn't know why I was bribing them.

Today I picked the kids up on the early side, to make up for the extra long day at daycare yesterday. I offered to play with the kids before starting dinner, since it was still pretty early - spend some unrushed, quality time together that we don't usually get. They decided to watch TV instead.

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It drives me nuts that as soon as I get home each night with the kids, I am bombarded with demands. Help me get my coat/shoes off (Lucy, who is actually perfectly capable of doing those tasks herself), turn on the TV (both kids), put on a different show (usually Finn), get me a snack (both kids), feed me (cat, accompanied by annoying ankle-rubbing and other trip-causing behavior), cook dinner STAT (me/the "schedule"), make something healthy (also me), make soemthing kid-friendly (kids again), get me another snack (kids, accompanied by the inevitable whining when I say no), start emptying the dishwasher so M. doesn't have to do it later (M.), clean as I go (just nice to do, and I don't always do it, as I'm not very nice). All this happens in the roughly 45 minutes I have before M. gets home from work.

I wish that I could be left alone to cook [food I like] in peace.

Also, I need more "pleases" in my life.

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My Weight Watchers weigh-in for the week is tomorrow morning. I ate tacos for dinner tonight. Even though I did use the 40% less sodium seasoning, this was probably not a smart dinner choice.
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There are 5 loads of laundry sitting in a mountain on the floor of my basement, waiting to be folded.

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Last Sunday I baked all afternoon with Finn. First we made Buttermilk Oatmeal muffins, mostly so I could use up the rest of the container of buttermilk I had in my fridge. To finish off the milk, I had to make a double batch - 36 muffins. I figured this was OK, as I could give them to the kids each morning as a pre-school snack, and also freeze some. Finn and Lucy ate one bite each, and declared they don't like them.

*I* like them, and M. likes them. However, I hadn't planned on eating 34 of them.

We also made zucchini cookies, as Finn was curious how you could make a cookie with a vegetable. It took us an ungodly amount of time to shred up the zucchini with the brand new food mill my mom gave me for Christmas. Should have gone low-tech and used a shredder, I guess, but at least it was a good upper body workout.

The kids *kind of* like the cookies, but still prefer other dessert foods.

There are far too many delicious baked goods in this house for my liking (and my diet's existence), and too few people to eat them.

I wish I could eat anything I wanted to, and still be healthy.


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I have been good about getting back on track with exercise, jogging three times this week. I have not been so good about not eating all the things.

This is directly related to the plethora of baked goods in my house. And also the container of Two-Bite Brownies that sustained me throughout my all-day meeting yesterday. Two-Bite Brownies are a weakness of mine. There's just something about the slightly crispy outer layer, and gooey soft inner layer, that makes my soul happy. But not my scale, of course.

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Lucy is completely potty trained, even at night. This family? Is done with diapers. In Memoriam: October 2006 - January 2012. They lived a short (yet too long), filled (if not exactly fulfilling) life. May they rest in peace.

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Lucy sometimes hisses at us. She loves chapstick, princesses, Tinker Bell, Hello Kitty, Luke Skywalker, Annakin Skywalker, and Darth Vader. She does not like Emperor Palpatine. She has been getting in trouble for hitting at school lately. She wears 3T, will be 3 years old in just a few months. She looks adorable in a pony tail, and despises having her hair brushed. Her favorite song right now is "Moonshadow" by Cat Stevens. She won't wear a hat or mittens most days, and is a pretty picky eater. Her favorite food at the moment is macaroni and cheese, or so she claims - she occasionally goes rogue and turns her nose up at it. Her favorite TV show is Super Why. She still sleeps in a crib. She likes to tell her father that he's handsome, but she still asks for me to be the one to put her to bed most nights (and brush her teeth, and get her out of bed, and take her to the bathroom...).
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Finn has also been getting in trouble at school for hitting lately. We really know how to raise them, eh? He has now watched all 6 of the Star Wars movies, and is officially obsessed. He is capable of asking 3,472 questions about Star Wars on any given day. He plays with Star Wars toys, reads Star Wars books, and likely dreams about Star Wars. He is starting to get the hang of reading simple words, and whips through his math homework with little to no help. He is sweet and sensitive, always trying to make sure that the people he loves don't feel bad. He wants to win at games, but doesn't want us to lose, at least not too badly. He is taking swim lessons right now. His favorite food is still pizza, and his favorite TV show is The Wild Kratts. He whines A LOT (seriously, when does that end??). He is stubborn and frustrating and funny and loving. He still gives us spontaneous hugs and kisses. One of his latest tics involves a droning, constant humming while he's zoned out, which is about as annoying as it sounds. He now sleeps until at least 7 am on the weekends, and is damn hard to get out of bed on the weekdays.

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That's life, lately. Just wanted to get something down, to get back to writing something, ANYTHING, here. To keep a record of life, for the days to come when we look back and try to remember how it all was.

It's better than it sounds, though. Writing out the details, it can seem miserable. On a day-to-day basis, life can BE miserable. But over all, we are fortunate and happy and decidedly NOT miserable. These kids, they are work. They are frustration in a short package. But they bring so much to our lives, and I know it's all worth it. These two little beings, that turn their noses up at my cooking and beat the crap out of each other, they are awesome. I recognize it every day, and make mental note of it. I'm just not that good at capturing it here, to share with all of you (and my future, memory-addled self). I need to get better at that, at putting down here all the good details. I hope I do.

Declarations, Questions, and Observations

1. We are declaring Lucy to be officially daytime potty trained. Now that I have said that, I'm sure we're in for some kind of regression, but there it is. She is completely out of diapers, even for long outings, and only wears a pull-up at night. We are not totally out of the woods yet, as said pull-up is completely soaked by morning. However, she is doing great otherwise, and can even make it through nap time without any accidents.

2. We went to the zoo yesterday, something that's become a bit of a tradition each time one of the kids has a birthday. The National Zoo is just such a NICE zoo! The exhibits are so well designed and cared for, and we are really lucky to have such a great resource so close to where we live. Yesterday was our best visit yet. The zoo was decked out in all kinds of Halloween decorations, and all the animals we saw were really alert. The young panda was out playing with a toy, the baby gorilla was dragging a white sheet around and gnawing on pumpkin bits like an adorable hungry ghost, the cheetahs were up and stalking around, the emu was trying to chew through the fence, the lions were all playing with/chewing these odd looking blanket/animal skin-type things, Finn and Lucy got face-to-face with an orangutan, and one of the elephants walked right up near us and trumpeted. It was all pretty awesome.

3. Why is it that, while sitting in a booth at a restaurant, kids must either: 1) turn around and hang over the back of the seat, staring at the people eating right behind us; or 2) constantly slide off the booth under the table and pop up on the other side, and expect you to be happy to see them suddenly on the other side of the table. Happy that you can't stay in your seat during dinner and that you smeared shoe dirt and food scraps all over your body? Um, not exactly. I liked sitting in booths until I had kids. I no longer like sitting in booths.

4. What is the general consensus on clothing in the junior section? I must admit that as I pass by the section in various department stores, I do find some of the items cute. Only some, mind you. What is the protocol here? Are women in their mid-30's allowed to buy anything from the junior section, for ourselves? Do we look ridiculous if we bring an armload of juniors' clothes into the dressing room (I'm guessing that answer is yes)? Should I ignore the section completely until 2020, or whatever year I deem Lucy old enough to shop in it, and then only look for HER? Do any of you ever buy anything from the juniors' section? Am I just completely kidding myself?

Note: I have not actually bought anything from the juniors' section. I have, inadvertently, tried a couple of things on, because some of these stores (Target) tend to look a bit like a tornado hit, and it can be tough to tell where one section ends and the other begins. None of the things I tried on actually looked good, which is probably my answer right there. I don't have the body of a 15 year old, why would I buy clothing meant for one?

5. A few weeks ago, I saw a pick up truck that had a spoiler on the back of the bed. It has bothered me ever since. Pretty sure a pick up truck is never, ever going to be aerodynamic.

Updates: The Good, The Bad, and The Meh

Look at that, my husband ends his vagabond ways and comes home, and I can't eek out a blog post in over a week. I think it's pretty clear what's holding me back from being a wildly popular blogger with ad revenue and freelance jobs up the wazoo.

Time to update on a few issues.

The Good: I mentioned that we are attempting to potty train Lucy. This is (knock on copious amounts of wood) going very, very well. Last week we stuck her in pull ups all week, and she did a decent job keeping them dry for much of the day. Over the weekend we tried her in underwear each morning as we hung around the house. This girl is CRAZY for her Hello Kitty and Tinker Bell underwear, let me tell you. Absolutely LOVES it. And as a result, she insisted on wearing her underwear on Monday morning. In an effort to keep moving forward rather than forcing her to stay reliant on diapers/pull-ups, I agreed. And brought in 4 extra outfits to daycare.

Surprisingly, she managed to stay dry all day at school until a pee accident at around 3:30, where she apparently got a bit too engrossed in playing and realized too late that she had to use the potty - she basically peed down her leg as she informed her teacher that she needed to go potty. She wore a diaper at nap time, but kept it dry.

Since then, she has kept her underwear dry all day long (still wearing a diaper at nap, but keeping it dry). She is waking up wet in the morning, but I know that night-training can happen a lot later, and frankly, I am so incredibly astounded with how well she has taken to potty training. I am blown away! And now grappling with how to handle her new-but-still-tenuous skill when we travel up to Maine next week for vacation. I have a feeling that a 27-month-old in underwear is not exactly an awesome idea for an airplane ride, but I don't want to give her the wrong idea about what's appropriate or inadvertently discourage her. Maybe I'll just subtly stick a waterproof pad under her butt to protect her airplane seat?

The Bad: With two children, it's a miracle that they don't both drive us crazy more often. I am sure that will come, but for now, they seem to be alternating with each other in phases of easy and hard. And if Lucy is being pretty pleasant (for a two-year-old) and easy with this whole potty-training thing, well, that leaves Finn to take up the "hard" torch. Which he is doing with gusto!

You may recall a blog post or two (or fourteen) talking about Finn's, um, lack of listening skills. And some sheer bratitude thrown in. Well, for a time, he was showing some improvements. In the daycare behavior scale of green-yellow-red, he was earning a fair number of green circles for his good behavior. But that lasted about 3 weeks, and then his teachers were switched up, and then switched back again, and the system wasn't used consistently during the confusion. Now that it's back, he's basically scoring reds all around. And for those that don't know, red = BAD. Not bad as in "my child is beating all the other children up," but bad as in "my child refuses to control his impulses and listen to a damn thing his teachers tell him to do." It is so, so frustrating. So I've devised a new reward chart, with a brand new reward system, to try to get Finn to STRIVE. EARNESTLY. For good behavior (green circles). We'll see how it works. Finn is now officially the oldest kid in his classroom, and I think that is a bit of a disadvantage in terms of behavior. He is leaps ahead of some of the younger kids in terms of academic ability, so he gets a little bored during circle/class time. And he rules the roost, so to speak - he is finally turning into a bit of a leader instead of a follower, but he isn't necessarily using his influence for GOOD.

Though he's pretty good at making mischief all by himself, too.

He has also been more emotional lately, more prone to resorting to whining, shouting, and crying immediately, rather than trying to first ASK NICELY for something that he wants. I think he needs some intense positive attention from M. and me, and I just hope we can do that for him without losing our shit on a regular basis. Oh, FIVE! May you have better things in store for us than FOUR has had! Which was, admittedly, better than THREE (I think? It's possible I blocked the worst memories out). Let's try to roll with this "each year gets better" thing, eh?

The Meh: So, I received the bathing suits I ordered from Lands End, and it actually turned out very well. The one piece suit requires a LOT of shimmying to get into, but once it's on, it makes my torso look like a curvy, jiggle-free body part. Which it decidedly is not (curvy - yes; jiggle-free - no). So that's great. Unfortunately, it doesn't do the same for my thighs, which lie directly below the edge of the bathing suit. The contrast is bothersome for me, but hopefully only me, as we ladies are all our own worst critics. The two-piece is mostly flattering, but still has the dreaded waistline of the panty portion, which (unless you have some ungodly low percentage of body fat, which I do not) creates a love-handle effect unless you Urkel the panties in a fashion that would cause death by mortification if anyone found out. But it will be my mission to make sure no one actually finds out (with the exception of the 8 of you that read this blog, of course). So, I am keeping both suits, and am pretty pleased with the purchases. Especially given that they were on sale. I only really included them as "Meh" in this blog post because I made Smore's Brownies on Sunday, and have systematically been working my way through the pan with M. in a decidedly non-Weight Watchers' friendly fashion. So it's very possible that by this weekend, the suits will no longer fit.

Time to go run a few extra miles?? :-)

ALERT: Bathroom Language Abounds In This Post, Do Not Read If You Don't Want To Hear About Poop

****Late Breaking News!*****

I interrupt this regularly scheduled work day to announce that...

Lucy pooped on the potty!

I know you are all just as thrilled as we are, WHY WOULDN'T YOU BE? Clearly my child's bathroom habits are of great importance, if not to the world, at least to this blog's readership, right?

So, yes, the pooping. On the potty. It happened yesterday morning at daycare (so I guess in this instance, "late breaking" means more "late" than "up to the minute reporting"). Meaning not on my watch, of course. At home she just tells me when she is mid-poop, usually as she is crouching in some kind of corner or behind the kitchen trash can with an odd twinkle in her eye (Why the trash can? Why the sly twinkle? Toddlers are strange creatures). By then it's far too late to hustle her to the toilet. I'm pretty sure the clean-up would be horrendous (Lucy, the toilet, and me!). But this time, I guess her teacher set her on the potty to pee, and once that happened, asked Lucy if she was all done. Lucy said no, and then nonchalantly proceeded to poop (since I wasn't there, I am extrapolating the "nonchalant" part of the event based on Lucy's personality). Her first potty poop, one for the (non-existent) baby book!

Given that Lucy is now peeing regularly on the potty (if by regularly one means a few times a day, for the last 3 weeks or so), and insisting on wearing pull-ups, AND has now started down the road of pooping on the potty, I suppose I need to take this potty training initiative she is showing seriously?

Yes, I ask that as a question, as I am hesitant. Can a not-even-27-month-old actually be potty trained? She can't even really pull up or down her own pants yet. She still sleeps in a crib. She is my BAY-BEEE! (sob) (no, I am not really crying over this) (after all, it is by no means a nightmare if she wants to up and potty train herself earlier than I expected)

Bottom line is that M. and I will push a little harder if there is some chance of success, but I don't want to push if she really is too young and is just showing a passing interest. So tell me your experience if I don't already know it. Have any of you managed to potty train a young two-year-old successfully? Did any of you try and fail miserably?

Everyone But the Lobster Had Fun

As has become an every-other-year tradition, we spent the past 4th of July weekend with M's parents, who made the long drive out from Wisconsin to spend some time with us. Though we didn't make it to any fireworks (9:15 p.m. on a school/work night is just never going to happen), we had fun, relaxed, and did our best to celebrate the nation's birthday. A rundown in photos follows.

Granny and Grandpa arrived the Thursday afternoon before the 4th. They battled traffic around Indianapolis and pounded the highway for two days straight, and still managed to arrive with smiles. Probably because they drive a Prius. Effin' gas mileage. We celebrated with Italian take-out, wine, and dessert. They brought presents for the kids, which we held over their heads to get them to eat said dinner. Dinner was eaten, gifts were gifted, and everyone went to bed happy. No non-blurry photos exist of this time period, so you will have to use your imagination to picture the reunion and the (faster than I expected) warming of the kids to their grandparents. It had been a year and a half since Finn and Lucy last saw their grandparents (Lucy was only 9 months old!), so I was expecting the shyness to last for some time, but it went by the wayside by bedtime or so.

Friday morning we bundled the kids off to daycare. Yes, some might think that cruel. But M. and I both had the day off (with some work to attend to all the same, those damn Blackberries never go away), and we knew that the next 3 days of constant kid-contact was going to be both draining AND ample time to enjoy their company. So, to daycare they went. We enjoyed a leisurely morning breakfast on the deck, did some grocery and bush shopping (Not at the same store. And don't get me started on the bushes, which were a replacement for hydrangea bushes we bought 4 years ago that NEVER BLOOMED. And always managed to get eaten by the effin' deer. Trying to keep this PG here. But I do NOT like those deer. When is hunting season? This vegetarian may be on board with some rifle action this year...).

Anywho, once the various shopping errands were taken care of, we took off for a lovely lunch in the Maryland country/mountainside. It looked like this.



Then we drove to a nearby winery to sample the wares.

Here is M. in his "I am a serious wine drinker, excuse my hat" pose.

A group photo. Notice that no one is trying to keep an eye on wayward children out of the corner of their eyes. This was a good choice.

After the tasting we each ordered a glass of wine to suit our own preferences (mine was the Pinot Grigio, Granny and Grandpa each had a different sweet/dessert wine, and M. had a hearty red, to give you insight into our wine preferences. This place, thankfully, had something for everyone), and we sat out on the lovely patio. Sans kids, if I haven't mentioned that already.

I decided to have an East Coast meal for my in laws, who are pretty land-locked out in Wisconsin. Because I am New England raised and not all that comfortable with whole crabs (and dieting, thus not all that comfortable with crab cakes), I decided to try my hand at lobster salad. I have never, ever cooked my own lobster before. I have eaten plenty, and not just lazy man's lobster at a restaurant. I've cracked 'em open and eaten them whole (after rinsing out the gross stuff, of course). But until last week, I'd never actually cooked one myself. Here he is once he was cooked. Yes, it was a he. No roe. I'm going to pretend he didn't suffer much. But I did. We don't have proper lobster removal utensils, so I had to use a hammer and kitchen shears. I managed to scrape a flap of skin off of one of my fingers in the process. But I do believe I got all of the edible stuff out, and the recipe I followed made a very nice lobster salad. I even managed to find top-split/New England style hot dog buns to do it up right!

We also ate corn on the cob. And this was the first time the kids were enslaved to husk the corn. But it won't be the last...

The next morning (Saturday), I waddled off to my weightwatcher's weigh in and then came back to wake up a sleepy head Lucy. Girlfriend was still sleeping at 8:50 am when I returned. I was only a little afraid she was dead.

There was some kind of Folk Life festival happening on the D.C. mall that weekend, so we opted not to go in to D.C. for our touristy activities with the in-laws (next time, next time). Instead, we went to the next best thing - the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum annex located just next to Dulles airport.

Parking may not be free, but the place is worth the trip.

For example, they have a SPACESHIP. A whole freakin' space ship. How often do you see one of those? Here is the big SPACESHIP'S HINY, making Grandpa look quite tiny in comparison.

Here is a patriotic Finn and Granny in front of some other kind of fighter plane-type aircraft. Shut up, I spent most of my time chasing Lucy. I didn't get to read any plaques.

I'll spare you more of the same, but we have lots of "little people, big planes" pictures. They also have an IMAX theater, where we saw a film called Fighter Pilots. Finn loved it, and Lucy spent her time walking from person to person in our party, removing her shoes and trying to lose them in the row in front of us. Needless to say, she was less enthralled than the rest of us, but for a 2-year-old, she did pretty OK.

Here we have Lucy being led out to the car by Granny and Grandpa, proof that she really, actually liked them by then.

In fact, she still (over a week later) asks for them every day, multiple times a day. It is both cute and annoying.

We grabbed a late lunch in nearby Reston, Virginia and let the kids explore the outdoor fountain. Making for good photo ops.

And fear of drowing.

The next morning we went to the local airpark for breakfast. I think I've blogged about going there before, but I'm too lazy to find the pictures. Anyway, picture a restaurant inside a building right next to a local airstrip, with hundreds of little airplanes parked within a several hundred yard radius.

Here we are after ordering our food. I don't know why I look weird. About to speak? Lucy looks like she's smelling something unpleasant, so maybe it's related.

Here is an action shot - you can get an idea of how close we are to the planes taking off and landing.


Cutie Lucy.

After breakfast the men went golfing and Granny and I took the kids to the pool. Um, no photos, for some reason.

The last day of the visit, the 4th of July. Here, 3 generations of M. men carry on the aircraft theme of the weekend by looking up videos of Blue Angels on YouTube.

M. made Bloody Mary's. They were yummy.

The kids "hid" behind their play kitchen.

We strolled around an outdoor lake/restaurant/shopping area. Hmm, though I don't see a UW shirt in sight, it's clear that Badger habits die hard in this family, given the amount of red, eh?

King Finn

Before grilling out in true 4th of July fashion (the only part of tradition, outside of televised fireworks, we were able to keep up), we finished off the afternoon with a neighborhood walk/scoot. Both kids had scooters and helmets. Only Finn actually scooted.

Lucy alternated between getting dragged along on her scooter in true Queen Bee fashion,

And getting carried...

One way or another.

Finn was ahead of the gang the whole time, having clearly mastered his new scooter (two-wheeled, the three-wheeled one was given to Lucy, with thus far weak results...)

And nature was manhandled.

Finally, Lucy would like you to know that she would now like to wear Pull Ups. Or, as she calls them, Cool Ups.

She doesn't always want to use the potty, of course.

(Though she is using it a few times a day.)

But, diapers? They're for babies, man. No more diapers for this chica.

(Or so she'd prefer, if Mom and Dad didn't balk at the cost of pull-ups and refuse to let her wear them at night).

It seems we may be doing this potty training thing again. Goodness.

Unrelated and Likely Boring

I am at a loss for a cohesive blog post. Things are ramping up at work for me, and my brain is more focused on my super long "To Do" list than any topic that may interest you. Instead, some unrelated blatherings:

1) M. mentioned this weekend that he gets very angry when the kids cry. All he can think about is making the crying stop. He wondered if this made him a bad parent. I told him that it did not. I have a visceral reaction whenever the kids don't sleep (usually this involves crying, too, but it's not crying that drives me crazy, it's the lack of sleep. Which is often tied in heavily to my lack of sleep). I don't get mad, though, I get anxious. OK, I get a little mad, but mostly anxious. WHEN will he/she/they go to sleep ALREADY!?!? What can I do to make it happen? What is WRONG? Those are all the anxious thoughts that run through my head and cause my blood pressure to rise. Funny that it's a different trigger for me than for M. I wonder if that is true for most couples - in a way, it's a good thing because having two different "crazy" triggers ensures that one of you can keep your cool at any given time. Stacey mentioned that it drives her crazy when her daughter won't eat. What do your kids do that causes you to have an almost physical reaction? What gets you going every time? And do you get angry, or stressed out?

2) Finn apparently got a time out for hitting one of his "friends" at school yesterday. Of course in daycare, everyone is a "friend" even when he or she is actually a pushy whiner. As this kid seems to be. We did the whole "Oh, Finn, we DON'T hit, EVER. Mommy and Daddy are SO disappointed in your" bit, but a small part of us was cheering internally.

3) In other "Finn Behavioral Issues" news, Finn had an accident tonight. Not 15 minutes after I asked him if he needed to go potty, he let loose while sitting on his kid-sized armchair while watching "Wonder Pets" (terrible show, by the way. Just terrible). Totally soaked his chair, pants, socks, and even his shirt. All while sitting about 25 feet away from the bathroom. SO frustrating and annoying and maddening and lots of other harrumphing adjectives. This gal was pissed off, no pun intended. We've been having battles with Finn lately about going to the bathroom. He is potty trained, but hates using the bathroom. He will stall as long as possible. Some mornings he won't use the toilet until 2 or more hours after he wakes up. Usually no accidents are involved, but we are getting tired of the battle. Today was the last straw. From now on, the television is not going to be turned on until Finn has used the bathroom. Nicely and without arguing. We'll see how it goes...

4) I was approached by a colleague at work to run a leg of the Baltimore Marathon relay next October. I have lately been trying to get back in to dieting and exercising, but with only marginal success on the exercising front. Dieting-wise, I am now keeping track of all the calories in the food I am eating each day, and it is helping. But I definitely need more motivation for the working out portion of my goals. So I agreed to participate, figuring that having a race to work toward would be helpful. But so far I've only managed to run a little over a mile at a time, and when I say "run," I really mean "jog at just over a walk." I have a lot of work to go. The leg of the relay will likely only be a few miles long (4 people split up the 26.2 mile distance), but that's a few miles longer than I'm used to running. Here's hoping I can make some major physical fitness strides over the next 9 months!!

I'm sure I could find some more topics to add to this mish-mash, but I want to drink my wine instead. So I bid you goodnight.

Oh, wait, I thought of the other topic I was going to mention last night but completely forgot about.

5) Babbling. Lucy is doing it quite a bit now. Terribly cute, etc etc. But why is it that when she is happy, she babbles "Da da da da," and when she is crying, she seems to be saying "Ma ma ma ma?" Yes, yes, I know she isn't saying our names, and that dada is easier to say than mama, but come on. It's like she's already preparing for the years of crap she will give me as a teenager. As her mom, I am CERTAIN that I will receive the brunt of her rage and angst. That, after all, is what this ungrateful blogger did to her own mother. So sorry, Mom!

Finally a Moment to Blog

I've been totally remiss in updating about Lucy's start at daycare. In my defense, I've been crazy busy at work AND traveling - as I type this, I sit in the Tampa airport, waiting to fly back home. With any luck (all fingers and toes are crossed), I will be home in time to help with bedtime. Metro D.C. traffic patterns can suck it, I WILL see my kids tonight.

I'm always quite prepared about travel - I get to the airport early (hence, finally some free time to actually update my blog, thanks to free wireless), I pack all my toiletries in the standard quart size bag and put it in easy reach to pull out for security, I take off my shoes and take out my computer without asking, etc. Total pro. Except today, of course, where I somehow managed to forget that I had a water bottle packed in my carry on suitcase. I could go on and on about the experience of having my back set aside and searched, and the contraband taken away, by a TSA official who seemed to be pulling my leg the entire time as he spoke very deliberately and slowly in his Greek accent. Until he pulled out the bottle of water, of course. But I'll spare you, and move on to more interesting topics.

So, daycare. There actually isn't much to report. Lucy is doing great there. She does a wonderful job drinking her bottles (she's up to six ounces. SIX! I'm just floored, I don't think Finn hit that volume until he was at least 7 months old), and is generally pretty happy and smiley. As predicted, she does not do a great job napping there. But fortunately, to make up for the shortness of her naps (they average about half an hour, but some have been as short as 15 minutes!), her providers are really good about putting her down often. Usually she takes about 4 naps a day at school, so she's getting about 2 hours of sleep there. Still less than she needs, of course, so bedtime has been coming early.

One slight disruption - we just learned yesterday that Lucy's primary caregiver has given notice, and will be leaving after Friday. It all seems a bit fishy - she told M. that she is quitting because "too many people are mad at [her]." Unclear if she meant her co-workers, but I'm really not interested in getting the scoop. Her role will be taken over by one of the other senior staff in the infant room, so Lucy and the other babies won't really notice a difference. Not that they notice much, of course ;-).

I have been out of town since Sunday night. My first time leaving Lucy, and it was not easy for me. I've whipped out my trusty cell phone on several occasions over the last couple of days just to look at the pictures I have of Finn and Lucy on it. Pathetic, I'm sure, but what can I say, I miss them!

M. has been doing great job on his own, due in a large part to Finn. He has been a big help, playing by himself while M. puts Lucy down for bed and in general being as helpful as an almost 3-year-old can be. It's my turn next week - M. will be out of town for two days - and I can only hope things go just as well for me. Don't want M. showing me up! ;-)

By the way, Finn has been asking to wear underwear to bed at night. M. managed to wriggle out of it last night by offering pull-ups with Lightening McQueen on them, a new purchase. I was relieved for him, because parenting solo is no time to introduce possible middle-of-the-night accidents that require changing the sheets. However, it's definitely time, so we may try it out tonight since I will be back to help. I think he'll do great, but may be back to ask for advice if things don't go as well as expected.

At Least It's Not A Baby Ruth Bar

I don't mind if Finn pees in the pool, honestly I don't. Everybody expects it, right? I mean, a public pool, especially the baby pool, has to be about 55% urine, don't you think? And honestly, bringing a wet child, with a wet swim diaper and a wet bathing suit, into a women's locker room of questionable cleanliness is no one's idea of a good time. I know, because I've done it. The logistics of wriggling in and out of wet clothes (which must be done completely so that this little child, who is not tall enough to stand up yet, can instead perch precariously, holding on tight with his little hands, on a germ-infested toilet seat), washing hands when neither soap nor sink is reachable, etc, is just too tiring to even think about.

But I can't TELL Finn this. I can't say to him "Hey, I know we've been going on and on about how great it is that you pee in the potty now, and not in a diaper, but there's this one little exception to the rule..." Yeah, I think that would be a bad idea. And so, even though we still put him in a swim diaper (they totally don't contain pee, but HE doesn't know that) when we go to the pool, Finn thinks he shouldn't pee while swimming. Each time we've gone recently, he has (loudly) let us know that he needs to go to the bathroom. After our first experience with the wet bathing suit, etc, etc, though, I don't WANT to take him to the bathroom. Bad mom that I am, I ask him if he can hold it a few more minutes until we get ready to go home. And what's the worst that could happen, really? He pees in the pool? No big deal, we've established that all the kids do it. Finn wants to keep swimming (ha, swimming, I would hardly call it that, but that's because I'm bitter that Finn has so far completely refused to wear the flotation device I was so excited for him to try out), so he readily agrees.

And then, mere minutes later, lets me know quite matter-of-factly that he has peed a little bit. You know, in his outside voice, the one that CARRIES SO WELL.

And then everyone, who until then has been happily pretending that the pool if full of only water and chlorine, is forced to contemplate how they are now swimming in my son's pee.

Like I said, I DON'T CARE if Finn pees in the pool. I just wish he didn't feel the need to announce it to the world.

True Confessions of a Temporary Housewife

One more week. That's all I have left of my maternity leave. Only one more week of not setting an alarm, of not putting on make-up, of meeting-free days. Only one more week of letting Lucy doze on me mid-afternoon, of watching her wake up all smiles from her first nap of the day, of knowing exactly what she did and how she felt all day long.

It's also only one more week of terrible daytime TV programming, of spending significant portions of my day trying to get one little person to fall asleep or stay asleep, of feeling out of touch with the rest of the world.

Am I ready? Yes and no. I'm starting a new job at work, so there will be challenges and new experiences when I return. I'm a little nervous about it, but also excited. I do, of course, have concerns about how Lucy will transition to daycare. But this isn't my first rodeo, and I know it will all eventually work out. Plus, we've arranged it so that Lucy is not starting daycare at the same time I am starting back at work. She will be spending two more weeks at home with M. before she starts at daycare. Then she'll have to start getting used to an earlier wake up time so she can join us all in the morning rush out the door.

Yes, I did say EARLIER wake up time. Which brings me to one of my two confessions, the "secrets" I have been keeping from this blog for fear of somehow inviting bad karma that puts an end to them.

Lucy has been sleeping through the night.

Not the "if your baby can sleep 5 or 6 hours straight at night, she is technically sleeping through the night" crap. The "we get her into her crib asleep anywhere from 7:30 to 8:30 pm, and she doesn't wake up until after 6:30 am" sleeping through the night. 10, 11, even edging toward 12 hours in a row.

She's been doing this every night for at least a week - I can't remember exactly when it started. Disbelieving, M. and I continue to prepare for middle of the night feedings. We prep the bottle warmer with the necessary water for heating, and we bring an insulated sleeve with ice packs and a bottle up to the kids' bathroom. Where it then sits, all night long, until either I start to hear a few stirrings over the monitor, or I get worried that it's been too long since I heard anything, and I decide that it MUST be time for us to start our day. Today I went in at 6:55 am and had to wake a dead-asleep Lucy in order to give her her reflux medication.

I'm under no illusions that this will keep up forever. Eventually, Lucy will need to learn to sleep unswaddled, and she will need to learn to fall asleep on her own (THIS, she still does not do. Much effort to get her to sleep, followed by many wonderful hours of sleep). Not to mention growth spurts, ear infections, teething... there will be wake ups. But for now, it's heaven.



Confession #2 involves Finn. With very little work from M. and I, he is now just about completely potty trained. It's crazy how wonderful he has been about it. We still put him in a diaper at night and a pull-up for his naps, but he has been keeping them dry. The rest of the day he spends in big boy underwear, and he's had nary an accident in days. I think, very soon, we will be attempting underwear at night, too.

I'm not sure what did the trick. Daycare had been putting him in underwear, but he was having some pee accidents and (if he didn't poop in his morning pull-up first) a good number of poop accidents. Poop in the potty just wasn't happening. After one poop accident that happened at home (v. traumatizing for all of us, not my finest parenting moment), we decided to take a break from the underwear. We continued to send Finn to school in pull-ups, and just before the 4th of July, something clicked for him. He started pooping in the potty. At home and at school. So we've been running with it, and it's working out great. We've even done errands and trips out of the house in underwear, and he has been perfect. It almost makes up for the tantrum/discipline troubles he's been giving us lately ;-).



We had friends over this weekend, and finally managed to get a family picture of the four of us together - our first one since Lucy was born. Now I can finally update our picture on the sidebar of this blog!



And a couple of bonus pictures of my angelic (kidding, kidding) children:

One Month

We are officially one month into this whole "parenting two kids" experiment. Finn is now 31 months old, and Lucy is one month old. I don't suppose we can declare negative findings, and scrap the whole venture in favor of a new line of questioning, eh? Just kidding, of course! We are slowly getting used to our new life, and finding ways to enjoy it in spite of the pandemonium (which there is, in spades). And M. and I both agree that time seems to be flying. Lucy is one month old, already? It seems like in no time at all she's going to be sitting up on her own, eating table foods, talking...

A lot has happened in the last month. Finn has started talking in a strange accent, and we have no idea where he is getting it. "Uncle Andrew" has become "oncle ondrew." Doctor is now "dawktor," and car is "cawr." It's almost like he's picking up a hybrid New York/Bostonian accent - so strange! It's driving M. nuts, and I'm fairly certain that if my great grandmother Nana D. was still around, she'd be mortified. Also, in a step that has not hit the blog yet because honestly, I'm a bit to tired to contemplate it's ramifications, Finn has started to wear big boy underwear at school. Yes, just what I wanted during M.'s first week back to work - a two and a half year old who comes home from school in underwear, doesn't want to put on a diaper, but also doesn't want to sit on the potty when I ask him. Aargh. One more thing to worry about during the mad dinner prep/pre-bed rush. We've had some successes, and some, ahem, not-so-successful evenings.

"Oncle Ondrew" and Lucy

Finn is giving us a lot of grief, but at the same time he is such a joy to be around. He is developing such a sense of humor, and when he's not mad at us, he really seems to like to be around us (oh, if only that could last through the teenage years!). And every day I look at his round little face and beautiful blue eyes (those eye lashes seem to get thicker and longer each day!), and I'm amazed by how cute and adorable he is. He is wonderful with his sister, giving her kisses and hugs whenever he can, and trying to comfort her with a "Lucy, it's OK" when she cries. He even tries, on occasion, to use his "inside voice" when she is sleeping (only on occasion, though!).


Goofball

Finn as an Alligator

In the last month, Lucy has gotten bigger, cuddlier, and more aware. She is definitely starting to smile - I've been bestowed a few, but she seems to like to save them for her older brother. She's already fascinated by Finn, apparently, a feeling that I'm sure will grow and grow over the next several months. She is a pretty good sleeper, going about 4 hours between feedings each night, and is a far better napper than her brother was as a baby. She sleeps best all swaddled up in a blanket in her crib - she's not much of a car seat or swing fan. I fear M. and I don't give rise to flexible, "sleep anywhere" babies, so we will be a bit chained to our house for nap times over the next couple of years, but that's OK.

I'm both looking forward to all the developing and growing that Lucy will be doing over the next few months, and dreading it. I can't wait to interact with her even more, but at the same time I want her, my last baby, to take it slow and stay my baby for a long time. With maybe just that whole "sleeping through the night" developmental stage reached as soon as possible :-).


Cute outfit, about an hour before it was pooped on

All dressed up for her first BBQ party






ps - re: the big boy underwear - how is one supposed to deal with accidents of the #2 variety? Finn has had two such incidents at school over the past week, and while it's tempting to throw each offending pair of underwear away, we could go broke very quickly shelling out money for new Mater and Lightning McQueen underpants. Can the poop-filled pants that are sent home in a little plastic baggy be thrown in with the wash? Do you hose them off first? What are your tips? Yuck!

We Have...

Poop. In the potty. And I don't quite know what to do with it.

So strange, because on Thursday night, I actually dreamed that Finn pooped in the potty. I don't know why - we haven't been pushing the potty training much at all (you may remember from a previous post a few months ago that I am reluctant to give up diapers just yet). It was not a topic that has been weighing heavily on my mind. But I had the dream - I even told Outnumbered Gal about it at work on Friday.

Finn has been regularly peeing in the potty a couple times a day for a few weeks now - usually when his diaper is changed at daycare, and then at night before bed. But we've never entered #2 territory - that has been deposited solely in his diaper. Last night, I plopped a somewhat resistant Finn on the toilet before bedtime, expecting the usual liquid issuance. He said something about poopy, but I just nodded and said "Mm hmm," because he has been known to mix up poopy and pee-pee - lots of instances of "I pooped," then finding that there's only pee in his diaper. Plus, as I mentioned, he had never pooped on the toilet before. But to my surprise, there was suddenly poop. And then some more. And then, as he made me read him a book (twice), there was even more. I was a bit flabbergasted and at a loss as to how to handle it. I mean, I pictured this as a momentous occasion, one that would require all kinds of celebration and treats in order to show Finn that THIS was GOOD, that we ENCOURAGE this.

But it was just before bed, and I was home alone (M. is out of town). I couldn't ply him with treats and rewards, or shout and dance around the house - it was bedtime, after all. When one is going it alone at bedtime, the last thing you want to do is get your child all riled up before turning out the lights.

So I did the best I could, oohing and ahhing and telling Finn how proud of him I was. I'm not holding my breath that we'll get a repeat performance any time soon, of course, as I think it was complete chance (or perhaps the THREE helpings of baked beans he had at dinner Wednesday night) that caused this. But it's a start!

One for the (mythical, as yet unstarted) baby book? Do I mark it down: First Poopy on the Potty - January 9, 2009??

Another question: How exactly doth one properly clean up a child that has just pooped on the potty? I'm going to start keeping a container of wipes near the toilet (regular TP just does not get the job done), but this kid has some super strong butt clenching muscles. I'm basically forced to gingerly pick him up under his arms, holding his body as far away from mine as possible, and rush him to his changing table so I can do a thorough cleaning job. Not exactly convenient, you know? Is it better to help them clean up while they are still sitting on the potty? Also, if I have trouble getting Finn clean, how on earth can I expect him to ever do the job himself?? Good lord, I'll be wiping his hiney for years at this rate.

PS - sorry for the non-parents about such a poop-heavy post!

A Big Boy Surprise

No blogging about Finn's first official day in the two-year-old room because he's home sick today. He took a turn for the worse with the hand-foot-mouth disease, and spent several hours crying yesterday afternoon. The sores in his mouth were bothering him quite a bit, and eating and drinking was quite difficult for him. Today seems to be going better - he's downed a couple of glasses of milk already, and ate a decent breakfast and lunch. The real clue will be naptime, I think - he's been averaging a less than 1 hour nap the last 5 or 6 days, way below the norm. We're already at an hour and a half today, and no noises over the monitor yet. Here's hoping this means he really is feeling better!

The big news today is that Finn has suddenly taken an interest in potty training! I don't know whether to be happy or not about this :-). Honestly, changing diapers is not that hard, and it's easier to clean a dirty diaper than a dirty couch/pair of pants/underwear etc when potty training accidents happen. But I am going with his interest, and encouraging him to "pee-pee on the potty." His first time was last night, just before dinner. I was changing his diaper, and he didn't want me to put the clean one on. He cried, and in trying to figure out what was wrong, I asked him if he wanted to go pee-pee in the potty. He said yes, I plopped him on (we have one of those little seats that sits on top of a regular toilet), brought in a book to read to him, and to both our surprise he eventually peed. Then peed again. And then again. He keep peeing in little amounts, I think because he would get so interested in what was happening that he would stop himself. I praised him a lot, and he was so proud of himself! His big grin was adorable. We cleaned up and ran downstairs to tell M., and Finn got a little bit of ice cream (one of his favorite foods, and nice on his throat right now) as a reward. What a big boy!

He's been about 4 more times since then, and each time he has asked to go. The second time was last night, during our bedtime routine. Part of me suspects that he was just trying to prolong his bedtime, but he definitely did have to go... He's still peeing in his diaper, too, but I'm not expecting miracles overnight. Finn didn't want me to put his diaper at one point (I, of course, put it on anyway), so we may be running out to buy some Pull-Ups later today. Ready or not (and I don't think I'm ready), I guess we're officially potty training! Tips are welcome from any of you experienced parents out there.