Thursday, February 25, 2010

When Imagination Gets Real

Yesterday, the Ladies and I went down to see the Wild Man and his very sweet little sister for a playdate.

When the Wild Man and the Lady get together, things usually get a bit messy. In fact, the Wild Man likes to say that when the Lady comes over they are going to "make a mess." At least the kid is honest. Most visits end with piles of books pulled off of shelves, some sort of snack food either spilt on the floor or squashed into a sneaker and a cabinet or two emptied out. Yesterday was no different, but it also ended with what I like to call an "emotional mess" of two very tired two-year-olds who took their imaginative day-at-the-beach scenario too far.

When I was out picking up some lunch, the Lady found a pair of sunglasses. This apparently started off a conversation about going to the beach. The kids started discussing what they would need at the beach, pail, shovel, sunglasses, towels, etc. . . and then this quickly led into finding objects that would appropriate these things--namely in the lazy susan cabinet in my sister's kitchen.

When I returned from picking up lunch, the Lady was in her sunglasses, the Wild Man was carrying around an actual beach pail and they had emptied the entire contents of the cabinet onto the kitchen floor. This included a blender, a giant pepper mill, two bottles of vegetable oil and one bottle of olive oil, assorted pans and bowls and a tin of Christmas cookie cutters.

We continued the conversation about the beach. We talked about putting our feet in the water and whether or not it would be cold. We talked about bringing a pool for the babies this summer and bringing snacks and drinks. All things that triggered their imaginations. The Wild Man threw some "sand" or paper clips--whatever--into his pail. The Lady opened up the bottle of olive oil and tried to pour it in the blender in order to mimic sandcastle making. (Luckily, I caught her in the act.) But things soon started to take an ugly turn.

The Lady insisted on going outside to get the yellow beach shovel on the back deck that the Wild Man had used in snow making. I tried to kill this request but was met by some very high decibel shouting. I relented. She got the yellow shovel and things seemed fine for a bit.

The Wild Man, in an attempt to recreate the conditions at the beach, took off his shirt in order to facilitate the imaginary sunscreen application. He then took off his diaper. We all pretended to put on our own sunscreen, we talked again about going to the beach and picking up shells. In fact, we talked about it so much, that both of these kids became convinced that we were actually going to the beach. This led to what I can only describe as a "crazy cacophony of dueling decibels."

These kids can cry.

The Lady wanted to put her shoes on and get in the car with the Wild Man to go to the beach. I told her we weren't going to the beach. This did not go over well. There was a lot of repetition of I. Want. To. Go. To. The. BEACH!! Like, I didn't hear her the first time.

The Wild Man was naked and inconsolable. He insisted on going to the beach house and he too refused to take no for an answer. He could not be calmed down by a phone call from his mother and I heard later that after he was rediapered he took a pretty significant nap!

I wonder how things will go this summer when we do make it to the actual beach? I can only imagine the issues having to do with going in the water, not wanting to go in the water, it being too hot and sunny out, having snacks fall into the sand, over-excitement about sunscreen application, refusal to put on sunscreen, throwing sand, eating sand, peeing on sand and the one thing I hate about the beach. . . wanting to feed the seagulls. Can't wait.

I guess I will take the occasional imaginary day at the beach. . .

Thursday, February 18, 2010

When Well Visits Make You Sick.

The Little Lady had her six month check-up yesterday. Here is a rundown of our visit.

10:43 a.m.: Pull into the parking lot for a 10:45 a.m. eye appointment and an 11:00 a.m. doctors appointment.

10:44 a.m.: Circle the parking lot looking for an open space that is not taken up by piles of snow or that is not a handicapped space.

10:44:30 a.m.: Pray that the spot we pulled into is legal and unload the Ladies from the wagon

10:47 a.m.: Fumble in the diaper bag for my checkbook, while the Lady climbs a chair to look at the fish and we wait for the person at the counter to make a follow-up appointment

10:50 a.m.: Check in and get notified that our copay has gone up $10 and that we have to pay an additional $15 for past appointments.

10:52 a.m.: The Little Lady gets called into the office for her eye exam. We are taken to a room not much larger than a closet, where I am supposed to fit me, the Lady, the Little Lady and a nurse. Luckily, the nurse finds a spot for the infant carrier outside the room.

10:53 a.m.: The Little Lady has three electrodes affixed to her head and a pirate eye-patch over her left eye.

10:53:10 a.m.: The Lady stands next to me in the corner, head down, hair covering her eyes, pouting because she wants to do the eye test. Giving her a pirate eye-patch does nothing to stop the pouting.

10:55 a.m.: After switching the eye-patch to the right eye, the Little Lady is done. All of us exit the tiny room and move into an exam room down the hall.

10:58 a.m.: The Little Lady is stripped down to her diaper and proceeds to spit up all over my sneaker and the floor. The Lady finds a Blues Clues book to read, but complains about wanting this to be her Drs. appointment. I find a wipe, clean the Little Lady, my sneaker and the floor.

11:05 a.m.: The nurse comes in and does the Little Lady's measurements. She is 15.2lbs and 24 3/4 long.

11:08 a.m.: I check my phone because I got a missed call from my brother. The Lady wants to color. I sit her in a seat with her princess coloring book and some colored pencils. This lasts for about 3 minutes.

11:10 a.m.: The Lady wants a snack. Luckily I brought the fruit snacks.

11:15 a.m.: The Little Lady is still nude and I am trying to distract her with some toys, she wants the Blues Clues book that the Lady is back to reading. This isn't going over well.

11:20 a.m.: We play I Spy. The Little Lady drools all over me and the floor. I was unaware that something this little could produce so much saliva.

11:30 a.m.: It is getting hot in here. Have they forgotten us?

11:40 a.m.: I check my phone again. Really? Really? We have been in this room for over a half hour waiting. Things are starting to come apart.

11:41 a.m.: The doctor finally arrives. The Lady refuses to say hello to him and plays shy. The Little Lady seems to tolerate the exam pretty well. I get my questions answered and told that the Little Lady will need four shots and an oral vaccine.

11:54 a.m.: The doctor leaves.

11:58 a.m.: The Lady is breaking down. She opens the door and tries to escape to the waiting room to see the fish. This results in her laying on the floor outside of the room, crying. I put the Little Lady in the carseat, and try to scoop the Lady off the floor.

12:00 p.m.: I give the Lady a juice box, which she squeezes and spills all over her. I try to towel her off. Did I mention that we have people coming to the house at 12:30? Ugh.

12:03 p.m.: The nurse finally arrives.

12:05 p.m.: The Little Lady is screaming.

12:06 p.m.: The nurse takes the Lady to get a sticker. I start packing up.

12:07 p.m.: The Lady comes back with a Ni Hao Kai-Lan sticker.

12:09 p.m.: The Little Lady is getting cranky, she starts to cry again. I throw the Lady's jacket on, grab all of our crap and follow her out the door. Apparently, she needs another sticker.

12:10 p.m.: We sift through the basket of stickers by the door, the Lady takes two more as I try to usher her out the door.

12:14 p.m.: Everyone is strapped in and we head home, an hour and a half after we arrived. I am sweating, covered in spit-up and drool, and super anxious that we are not going to make it home before the people coming at 12:30 arrive. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

You Show Me Yours, I'll Hide in the Corner and Change

I signed up for a two-week trial membership at the gym I use to belong to. The goal being to figure out how to fit a workout into my schedule without having to pay for a full membership.

I like this gym because it not only has updated facilities and good classes, but it offers daycare for the kids and a pool. I am thinking about signing the Ladies up for some swim lessons to get them familiar with being in the water. I think the Lady will like it because she loves to swim in the tub, she will float on her back, dip her head and face in and she loves to kick. I will have to see how it goes with the little Lady, because all she does when I put her in the tub is cry.

Anyway, I got out of the house yesterday in the middle of the day--without the kids (thank you Mr. Presidents)--and headed to the gym.

The one thing I forgot about gym locker rooms is the fact that on any given day, at any given hour you have the potential to run into someone who is naked. This never fails to shock me. I have rounded the corner smack into full-frontal nudity on more than one occasion. Do I look away? Fumble with the buttons on my iPod? That is all fine and good, but what happens when this naked person is standing in and around your locker and actively lotioning? What then dear readers?

Yesterday, I walked into the locker room and a woman was coming out of the shower area, wearing only a towel, which was affixed below her bare breasts. I know that towels in gyms can be small, but there are piles and piles of them in this gym--how about using two? Trying to cut down on the environmental aspect of it? How about bringing your own full-body sized towel and reusing when you get home.

Now, I am not grossed out by the human body and between Mardi Gras and breastfeeding, I have whipped my boobs out in public many times. I just wonder why you wouldn't choose to cover-up in a public setting. If I was in a group locker room with other women that I knew, like on a sports team or something, I can see the comfort level being much higher, but this is a gym where strangers are literally walking into the door and you are standing there totally nude. I don't understand it, then again, I am also adept at taking off my bra and putting my sports bra on without actually taking my shirt off--so maybe I am the one with the issue.

So yesterday after the ocular onslaught, I took a deep breath, threw my stuff in a locker, went to the bathroom and when I came back to the changing area to pick up my iPod, I had to ask the nudie boob lady who was now topless hair-brushing to please move so I could access my stuff. She complied, I stared at my shoes while fumbling with the lock and then finally hit the gym.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

She's Crafty?

I have a history of being crafty. Not conniving and shrewd, but actually crafty. You know, homemade cards and scrapbooks. I recently had a closet full of craft stuff that had been laying idle for a few years that I finally sorted through and donated.

I kept the few things that I thought I could use and that I thought I could use with the Lady. She of course, has found the craft closet and raided it many times in the past. And, since our art class was cancelled yesterday, and we were trapped in the house that I would have done something interactive and artsy with them. Not so much.

I was just reading over some e-mails and updates from my Moms groups about what they were doing with their kids yesterday. These women were craftaholics yesterday. Granted, the Lady did some coloring, but we didn't even think about making Valentines or snowmen out of cotton balls, or making up our own board games or any one of the various things these art-inspired moms were doing with their kids, while I watched an NCIS marathon and the Lady ran around in her diaper coloring on her stomach with permanent markers. What happened to my motivation?

Now, I know that if I whipped out the scissors the Lady would make a beeline towards them. I also know that anything involving glue could turn disastrous and in a moment of clarity a few weeks ago, I threw away all the glitter we have in the house. But, I still can't help but feeling like a delinquent mom. I have the time, the supplies and the ideas to make some great crafts with her, but I think I am lacking a bit of the drive.

Tonight, I vow, with my glue gun poised and ready to go, we will turn off NickJr, lay the newspaper down and get crafty.

Time. Time. Time.

I have written before about how my biggest obstacle with two kids is time-management. So, I was super excited to have gotten a ton of stuff done this morning before I headed out to work.

I showered, which is always a good start, ran the washing machine, emptied the dishwasher, fed the Lady, brushed my hair, packed a gym bag, threw the clothes in the dryer, and took out the trash. All of this by 8:30 and all done before my SIL showed up to watch the girls. I wanted to get going early because our baby blizzard that hit yesterday closed the office and I wanted to make sure that I got there right at 9, just in case there were things to be done.

Imagine my surprise when I walked into a very empty office building and heard the 3 or 4 other people there talking about the e-mail that went out in the morning saying that you didn't have to report to work until 10.

Here I am blogging at 9:40. A few more people have wandered in, I guess the work day is almost officially started. Hopefully, it will be a busy day.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Perhaps I Ranted Too Soon. . .

So, as it turns out the Little Lady has spent the last couple hours puking. Maybe she wasn't feeling 100% last night.

I am annoyed with myself that I got so annoyed at her. What is so frustrating is that if she was a better sleeper, perhaps these multiple wake-ups at night would have alerted me that something was potentially wrong, as opposed to another run-of-the-mill sleep deprived night and perhaps I wouldn't have been so quick to get angry/frustrated/totally overwhelmed!

My mom is home with the ladies, and I will be leaving work soon. I spoke to the doctor's office so I just have to monitor the LL and make sure she stays hydrated. This will be my first foray into the land of Pedialyte and I am hoping it works well. I am also hoping that this is not a bug that will be passed around our house.

Baby puke is one thing, big sister puke is another story altogether.

Happy! Happy!

Just want to wish a very good friend of mine a very happy birthday.

Kristen--I hope you have a great day. Thanks for always being there and thanks for reading!!!!

The Bedroom, The Battlefield

The Little Lady and I are warring.

Unfortunately, this is trench warfare and she has seemed to bunker down for the long haul. I have found myself late at night, and early in the morning, deep in the trenches, dirty, a little bit hungry and totally exhausted.

Why will this kid not sleep through the night? I admit I was spoiled by the Lady, she was and still is a great sleeper. She in fact, does not seemed bothered by the multiple battle cries put forth by her little sister every night and seemingly sleeps through them all. The Little Lady, however, cannot sleep through one cough by her older sister without her big eyes flying open.

I don't know if it is because I have spoiled her by sometimes bringing her into my bed, or if she is not getting enough to eat before bedtime, but it seems that all she really wants is to be comforted, and usually that has to be done by me and my boob. I love that the Little Lady is a cuddler, but holding her in my arms all night is not an option.

We have tried to let her cry it out and in some cases that works. I just don't want her to actually wake up my very good sleeper and then have to deal with the two of them awake at 2 am. I have been doing a good job, of putting the Little Lady back in her bed after every feeding, and since we have moved the girls room upstairs, I like to think I am getting a little late-night workout with all the stairs I have to climb, but if she continues to wake up multiple times at night, I might just put her in the bathroom again and hope for the best.

Can you tell I am tired? Last night she got up three times and in two of those cases she stayed awake for almost an hour. In all honesty at times I want to scream, but there are a few things prohibiting me from doing that: 1) she is a tiny baby, 2) she is cute, 3) she is super cute and fuzzy and when she is awake she is all smiles.

So, this war continues, with the Little Lady in the lead and moving forward through that no-man's land, claiming her territory and little by little wearing down her mother!

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Tuesday TV

Lost is back tonight and I am super excited, however it conflicts with my American Idol watching and BL dvr'ing. I think we will be able to handle it though.

Tuesday, your tacos are delicious and I didn't know that I could love you more until you showered me with three viewing options and lets face it--a reason to go on!