The Three Bean Salad

I'm Pinterested in Your Instagrams

2012-02-01T22:01:00.003-05:00

Can you say time suck?

Since a lot of you readers link to me from my fb page, most of you have seen some of my recent photos of the Ladies and QT.

I am loving the instagram app on my iPhone and have been turning my everyday photos of the kids into my own tiny little pieces of art. I am not sure why I find this so interesting, but I do, and I will continue to make modern day photos of my children look like they were taken in 1976. (Or 1977, as one of the filters is actually called.)

Actual photo from 1976

The Lady

The Little Lady

In addition to whittling away my day by posting more photos of my children online, I have joined Pinterest.

Apparently, this is all the rage.

I have seen some of you on there as well, pinning away with the hope that someday we will have a house big enough, a day long enough, and an appetite big enough to consume all that beautiful, beautiful eye candy.

If you don't know about pinterest, click on the big red, cursive "P" on the side of this blog and join the wonderful world of (what I can only assume is mostly) women, who create "boards" of all the stuff they want, love, and would like to be. I dare you to try and not spend two hours on this thing. Also, I think it is virtually impossible to not come across something Hello Kitty-themed. I mean really? A Hello Kitty rifle? That is just weird.

I will warn you though, it is a bit addicting and one can get a little overwhelmed with the fact that they are never, ever, going to reclaim an old wooden ladder and repurpose it as a bookshelf in their children's room, or make any of the homemade crafts that adorn uncluttered spaces, or recipes that are so incredibly ooey-gooey your pancreas goes into overdrive just looking at them. Luckily, there is a humor section where you can read funny e-cards and giggle about the perils of auto-correct.

Pinterested? I'll send you an invite, right after I am done instagraming QT's 7 months pics.

A Few Happenings with the Three Beans

2012-01-25T17:01:00.000-05:00

I found this link about answering the top most common questions kids ask. I still think my answers work better though!

I am pretty sure that if the Lady ever asks me how much the earth weighs and I answer her by saying,

"Earth has a mass of 5.97 × 10^24 kilograms — the equivalent of one hundred million billion Titanics."

that it is only going to open the door up to more questions.

Questions I will definitely not be able to answer because I never even saw Titanic. What? The boat sinks, he dies, she lives, why waste three hours of my life for that?

Anyway, I thought I would share just in case the whole magic/Jesus thing isn't working for you and you were looking for some "easy" answers.

*************************

Since there hasn't been too much going on in the last few days to warrant a stand alone post. I will give you a quick synopsis of a few things that happened in and around my house (which is still currently for sale and at times, if only for a few moments, so breathtakingly clean it astounds me, even though I don't know where half our stuff is and am fully aware that nothing else can fit in the cabinet underneath the bathroom sink).

***
First of all, I got some quality time with two of my lovely Loyola Ladies on Saturday night. We were missing one more due to the snow but I am super excited to try and plan our annual get together a little bit early this year because of the arrival of baby number three for my Brooklyn momma. Here's to hoping that six women, with 15 kids (and one on the way) between us, will be able to coordinate schedules and meet up for a weekend of relaxation, mindless magazine reading and a little recharging.

***
The Little Lady

The Little Lady is up to her old tricks again. The other evening while QT dozed on his father's chest, the Lady took a few moments to do some math on the iPad and I tried to get dinner on the table, the Little Lady had some free play in her room.

Now usually, I can track the Ladies when they are in their room, neither is light of foot and you can hear where they are and what they are doing just by listening to their footsteps ~~clomp loudly,~~ scurry across the floor. When things get quiet there is usually trouble.

So after a couple of minutes of not hearing any movement above me, I took a quick trip up the stairs. I was about halfway up when I heard "No mommy, don't see me, go downstairs." When I rounded the corner I saw the Little Lady sitting in her pretty pink, personalized, Pottery Barn club chair, covered in pretty pink nail polish. When I say covered, I mean painted. She had it all over her feet, her legs and her belly. Clearly, the Lady's "salon" had been raided.

Luckily, it was the non-toxic "piggy paint" nail polish Santa found at Buy Buy Baby. I am sure it is still chock-full o'chemicals but at least it wasn't dark red and it hadn't found its way onto her chair. I will say it came off fairly easily in the bath, so at least there is that.

***
The Lady

The Lady is really into art and she makes like 100 art projects a day. I know this because at the end of the week they all come home in her school bag. Well not all of them, the teachers told me at her conference that they keep a lot of the "good stuff" for the end of the year binder. This nugget of information has allowed me to bring myself to actually throw out some of these creations (mostly the ones with glitter), but only in the dead of night after the Lady is sleeping, because if she sees anything of hers in the garbage it is not good. She will pepper you with questions about why and how her art ended up in the trash. I, in turn, usually feign surprise about how this art injustice could have occurred, wipe off any stray bits of debris from said piece of glittery artwork and remove it from the trash.

The other day the Lady made a picture with only three people in it, me, her, and my husband. She informed me that it was a picture of us "before the Little Lady and QT were born." I am not sure if this means she looking for a little more attention from her parents or if she only had room to paint three bodies, either way she and I are in for some one on one time, just as soon as I fish out a few more pieces of her artwork from the trash.

***
QT

QT has been battling an ear infection and RSV. He is also teething. All three of these factors have led to him refusing to take a bottle (also I changed the nipples on him to a faster flow--this probably didn't help, but the old ones were getting gross and he is 7 months old!) so let's make it four factors.

Did I mention he also refuses to nurse off the milk dud? That's right, not only is he not taking a bottle, but he is only nursing off of one boob. He also hates taking medicine and the fact that Seal and Heidi Klum's marriage broke up (well I might be reaching a bit on that last thing, but QT is all for "making it work").

What he does love is finally sitting up on his own and eating the remote control.

I think that does it for what we have been up to, perhaps tonight will bring something a bit more bloggable!

Kindergarten. . . Krazy

2012-01-19T16:46:00.000-05:00

Sorry for the use of the double K's in the title. I was momentarily moved to see what my life would be like as a Kardashian, except without the buckets of makeup, the "upscale" Forever 21 wardrobe and the extreme over sharing. (What? I said extreme over sharing, you won't see any at home bikini waxes on this blog--although you might hear about them. . .) Not to worry though, I will still maintain the fat ass.

Anyway, this post has nothing to do with Reality TV mega stars (although reports say their image might be tarnishing) or alliteration.

It has to do with kindergarten, more specifically, the Lady going to kindergarten in the fall.

Last night I had to attend a kindergarten meeting. Now this wasn't any ordinary kindergarten meeting, this was a meeting at a magnet school to fill out some paperwork that would put you in a lottery, with the hopes of getting one of 100 open spots available at this particular school.

Wait there is more. . .

Students are selected based upon their lottery number and group membership according to the following order:

Students residing on streets assigned to the magnet school.
Students with a sibling who will be attendance in the magnet school.
Students residing on streets with preferred admission status to the magnet school.
Students assigned to non magnet schools that may be targeted for admission to the magnet schools.
All other students.

We are "all other students," despite living less than a mile from the school and being surrounded on all sides by streets assigned to the magnet school.

Confused yet? Me too, and yes, this is a public school.

The parking lot was packed. I had to park illegally behind the school and walk through the playground wood chips in my high heel boots in order to even get into this meeting. Then you had to wait on line to pick up the paperwork, go into the auditorium for the intro lecture from the principal, before finally breaking up into small groups to take a tour of the school. Phew.

I will say that this school is beautiful. It is a new facility only a couple of years old, it is certified "green" and is part of the International Baccalaureate school program. Everything is shiny and new and the Lady can take one of three languages starting in kindergarten. In my heart of hearts I hope she would choose Mandarin because I am such a fan of Ni Hao Kai-Lan and Chinese fire drills.

But alas, I am getting ahead of myself. It was hard not to be impressed with this school because of all the bells and whistles, and I certainly don't want to be seduced by those things again (hardwood floors! granite counter tops! stainless steel appliances!) but it is hard not to picture the Lady in an environment where she wouldn't go wanting. I mean don't we all want the best for our kids?

I will say that I would have applied to this school even when it was in its old location, which was a mere two blocks behind our house because that just seems to make sense. What doesn't make sense is why we aren't districted for the school now, even though we were just a few short years ago when I could see the kids on the field playing and I could hear the bell ringing through open windows on sunny days. I mean the school only moved about a 1/2 mile up the hill.

Ugh.

The worst part about it is that I think that their program has a lot of techniques that would benefit the Lady. This is a girl who had a bit of an adjustment moving from the 3's into the 4's this year and who still talks about her old classroom. At this school they loop the classes so she will go to first grade with the same kids and the same teacher. Yes, I realize that if the teacher sucks or there are some disruptive kids that might not be such a great thing, but for the Lady to take that unknown aspect out of the equation will go a long way to making sure she is comfortable and less shy.

I know that if she doesn't get in it won't be the worst thing. The school we are districted for is a good one (although it is a 15 minute car ride across town, not sure how long that will translate on a bus) and I know that I will try to be as involved in her education as I can.

I also know enough family and friends who are teachers, and who work everywhere from the NYC Public schools to an all girls private school (that costs upwards of $35,000 a year for elementary school), to know that regardless of what the building looks like or the amenities inside (amazing computer room! a separate cafeteria, gym and auditorium!) that it is really the people inside those schools who make the difference, and who will make a difference in the Lady's life.

Still . . . the playground was krazy kool.

After the quick tour we were herded back into the auditorium, I listened to the principal answer some questions then got on another long line to finally get the application stamped and submitted.

That stamp struck the paper, like a judges gavel, leaving its red mark behind and I walked out into the cold, dark night, my heels clicking on the sidewalk before sinking slowly into the dirt beneath my feet as I made my way past the smart classrooms and beneath the shadows of the playground equipment looming above, hoping that maybe tonight, maybe this year, maybe. . . it will all work out all right.

So here's to hoping this lottery doesn't turn out like Shirley Jackson's and that the Lady will love to learn wherever she goes.

Missing Pump Pieces? No Problem. . .

2012-01-18T10:34:00.001-05:00

So I was all set to pump it up yesterday morning. I got to the lactation room, opened up my black case o' nipple squeezer and . . .

Oh shit.

The breast shields and attached "membranes"were no where to be found because they were sitting on the side of my sink at home.

Can I just say that membrane is one of my top three least favorite words.

The others? Moist and slacks.

Ugh. What was I going to do? It would take me over an hour to get home and back, not to mention actually pump and I just didn't feel like I could disappear from the office for that long.

So what is a resourceful, money-saving mom to do?

Well, I tried to MacGyver it. (Yes, I realize this is my second MacGyver reference in the last few blogs, but when the reference works, roll with it.) I Jerry-rigged this little beauty with a plastic cup from the water cooler, a pair of scissors and a roll of tape.

Is anybody surprised that this didn't work?

I figured it was worth the try.

So my advice to you would be that if you for some reason forget any piece of the pump and have access to a Target or a Babies R Us, you should really pony up the cash and buy a handheld pump that you can stash in your desk in order to save yourself a little time, some severely uncomfortable breasts and your sanity.

Your boobs (and baby) will thank you.

Catching Up With the Little Lady

2012-01-17T11:28:00.002-05:00

The Little Lady

The Lady, my Little Sister, and the Little Lady with a barrette up her nose.

Yesterday morning, as I lazed a bit in bed on my day off, I heard the Lady say "Why are you in the sink?"

Since both QT and my husband were in bed with me, I could only assume she was talking to the Little Lady.

She was.

I found the Little Lady sitting inside our bathroom sink. Since all the stools were put away for a showing over the weekend, I can only deduce that she used her ninja skills to climb up onto the counter.

She was wearing only pajama pants and had opened the medicine counter.

Surprise, surprise, she had surrounded herself with moonie cream, a spray container of Neosporin, children's cough medicine and an opened bottle of infant acetaminophen, the red cherry version, which she had clearly dipped into.

Now, I am not sure how she opened the container, it probably wasn't shut tightly, but after doing a quick breath test it was clear that she didn't actually ingest any of the medicine, although she had found a way to get it on the floor, the bath mats, the sink, and all over her hands.

She at once delights and confounds me.

She has also stopped sleeping in the crib at night, which is fine, except she is now sleeping on either a cushion or her crib mattress on the floor next to the Lady. This creates a few problems:

1. She is mobile

2. She has access to the light switch

3. She is keeping the Lady awake

4. She is constantly coming down stairs with some problem or another to be addressed, such as "it is spooky upstairs," "my purple ponytail holder fell out again," or "my bed is wet." The bed is wet because she spilled her milk on the mattress. She is insistent that she doesn't want a sheet, so it is easy enough to wipe down, but apparently too damp for her to sleep on.

She then climbs up on my bedside table, climbs over me and QT and situates herself in the middle of our bed where she proceeds to chat about whatever comes to mind, or in the case of last night asks to smell the birthmark on my husband's face, because if it is called a "strawberry mark" logic has it that it must smell like one too.

But Why? Or How to Answer Your Toddler's Pressing Questions Without Banging Your Head Against a Wall

2012-01-13T14:30:00.004-05:00

The other morning the Lady asked me if I was saving for college. She followed it up by asking if I was using the Gerber Life College Plan.

This interaction made me realize three things:
1. The Lady is watching too much TV
2. I am not saving enough for College; and
3. My kids ask entirely too many questions.

What's that you say? Asking questions is one of the ways that children learn about their environment? That a interested, engaged child who is curious about what is going on around them will become an interesting, engaged adult who will contribute positively to society? (Ok, I kind of made that second thing up, but it sounds like something you would read on an online parenting site or some judgmental mom's blog.)

Well, I say that these questions are becoming too frequent and too hard to answer. One day the Lady asked me what Chemistry was. I almost told her it was a class that I took in High School that I was clearly not smart enough for, because people in that class actually went on to become real Scientists and I am blogging about poop and cracked nipples.

Instead, I formulated some half-assed response that only led to more questions and more inaccurate answers that involved everything from the use of plastics to Sid the Science Kid.

The worst part is that her father and I told her that "because" wasn't a good enough answer to a question. Talk about biting yourself in the ass. Now I can't even use that answer because she will just say, "because isn't a good enough answer." Ugh.

I have since decided that any difficult or hard to explain answer to any of her questions will be either, magic or Jesus.

The funny thing is that last night as I was cleaning up from Quesadilla Night and formulating the beginnings of this blog post in my head, my husband used magic as an answer to one of the Lady's questions about how some plastic thing worked that you turn inside out and then it pops up into the air (and yes, lands in sour cream--thanks for asking) that she thought was very fun to play with and not in the least bit annoying.

What struck me were three things:
1. My husband and I are clearly on some sort of cosmic wavelength, which would explain why we kick ass in things like Pictionary and Taboo (although no one holds a candle to the teaming of my sister and I in these games. Dead cat on a lawn = Rigormortis, we are that good).
2. Sour cream is delicious.
3. Magic is a perfectly good answer to many questions.

Ah. . .the simplicity of it all. This is going to save me some serious explaining.

I mean these kids believe in Santa (magic), they are being educated at church-run nursery schools (Jesus and guilt both work in this scenario), it is perfect.

Why is the sky blue? Magic

Why do I have to go to bed? Jesus

How did you and daddy make QT? Magic, sweet, sweet magic

Why do you have a tattoo? Jesus

(In the most whiny voice possible)

WhydoesthelittleladygettousetheiPadIwantedtousetheiPadandshealreadyusedtheiPadandIwanteditand
itsnotfairandyousaidIcouldusetheiPadifIateonemorebiteofmydinnerandIhadonemorebiteandshedidn'tasktobeexcused?

Because Jesus said she could use the magic iPad.

I mean hours of your day might become available for other things. I might actually be able to get back to the gym. This may become a parenting revolution. I might write books to rival Dr. Sears.

Really my readers, where else are you going to find such simple answers to their endless questions? It isn't like there is some machine out there that you can just type questions into and it spits out thousands of comprehensive (though at times possibly incorrect) answers to appease these little children and their insatiable hunger for knowledge.

I mean something like that would have to be real magic and endorsed by Jesus (or Tim Tebow).

***********

For any of you religious folks out there upset by my use of Jesus in this post, I want to let you know that I may or may not be referring to Our Lord and Saviour, but perhaps to Jesus (Hey-zeus) a local Hispanic man with McGuyver-like skills and resources.

For any of you fans of magic (I am talking to you Neil Patrick Harris) that I might have offended, I may or may not be speaking of the art of illusion, but of Los Angeles Lakers great Magic Johnson. I mean he kind of beat AIDS, which is pretty impressive.

The Art of the Group Shot, Or How Not to Try and Take a Family Photo

2012-01-10T12:18:00.001-05:00

Click here to view these pictures larger

The above album is from Christmas Eve.

This debunks the myth that taking a ton of photos in a row of your kids will eventually yield at least one good one.

Clearly, this is not the case.

Also, another fun photo tip is to NOT give your 2-year-old one of the carrots you are putting out for Santa's reindeer right before whipping out the camera. The best case scenario for this is an orange smile.

I apologize for the amount of photos, but I am trying to make a point.

I am thinking about using this one for the Christmas card next year.

Memories people. Memories.

Happy New Year!

2012-01-01T13:55:00.000-05:00

The best thing about 2011 came out of my vagina in mid June.

If the world does end at the end of 2012, I am hoping that I go out on top.

Here is wishing for more time to spend with the kids, more time for me to spend on myself, more time for my husband and I to spend together.

Here is hoping for a quick sell of the condo, a new home with new memories, a year where I am fit-- financially and physically--and a year where I can share it all with you.

I hope that 2012 brings you health and happiness. Thank you, as always, for reading.

love, Bean

Happy Half Birthday to QT!

2011-12-16T13:41:00.001-05:00

Have six months really gone by since the birth of Little Boy Bean? Here a couple pics of the big guy. I would like to say that he really does wake up this happy every morning. It's the hours preceeding it that are suspect.

All Smiles

Here are a few more recent pics. Yesterday was the Christmas Concert at the Lady's school. It was everything you would expect from a group of 3's and 4's. A lot of off key, super cute caroling.

Getting ready to perform

The Ladies hugging post performance

The Three Beans

Where am I? What day is it? Did I miss Christmas?

2011-12-14T15:59:00.000-05:00

I have been in a fugue state for the last couple of weeks just trying to stay caffeinated enough to get out the door before collapsing in my bed (with QT) at the end of another long day.

Did I mention my husband has been out of town since December 2nd and that all the stress and unpredictability that comes along with it manifested itself into a hideous canker sore inside my lower lip that hung out for like a week and made it painful to talk and smile. I somehow found the strength to still eat a ton of unhealthy stuff including bacon wrapped dates and an Italian combo, but I digress.

I think I handled it okay this year. Work actually helped. It gave me a bit of distance from the kids so that when I got home I was able to actually give them the attention they deserved, while still trying to clothe, bathe (not consistently) and feed them (they love pasta--having it every night is not a form of child abuse).

I mean it wasn't great on those nights that QT refused to string together more than an hour and a half of sleep and I would wake up right before the alarm was set to go off, hoping that it was hours earlier and I could go back to bed, before realizing that I had slept for the last hour and a half on about six inches of mattress space, while my almost 6-month-old apparently took up the rest of Lionel, my spacious king-sized bed.

It also wasn't great when I lost it on my neighbor over a pumpkin. Long story, but the essence of it was that the "principal" of not throwing things into adjoining yards was being violated. I guess throwing a ginormous pumpkin covered in non-toxic paint (hand crafted by the Ladies), over the side of a fence into the embankment owned by the state that leads up to an interstate is somehow tantamount to just carelessly lofting it into your neighbors flower patch. I mean there are like rusted metal things and bodies buried over there. I certainly wouldn't throw trash back there, but a biodegradable pumpkin that has been providing nourishment to "Squirrley-Squirrel" our friendly neighborhood squirrel isn't going to open the flood gates to illegal dumping on the interstate side of the fence. I mean did making my dad go back over the side of the fence to pick it up and put it in our garbage can really make any difference in the scheme of things? Now that giant, colorful squash is rotting away in some dump, while Squirrley-Squirrel has to forage for food in the cold New England winter, forced to gnaw his little rodent teeth on rusted metal parts and our Christmas Tree from last year.

Granted, I might have been a little over emotional and clearly, there was no need to get my Irish up over something as trivial as a pumpkin, but I was "living in a powder keg" and she was "giving off sparks" and sometimes life isn't as pretty as that giant, colorful pumpkin, and sometimes you throw a temper tantrum at age 35.

Moving on. . .

We have managed to keep busy over the last couple of weeks although we haven't done one bit of Christmas decorating or shopping and I am not sure when any of it will actually get done. Here are a few pics from our many adventures.

Oh, and as of the writing of this blog post, my husband is in the airport at SFO and soon to be boarding his plane home. My plan is to hand him QT as he walks in the door, jump into Lionel, pull those covers up tight and try to get a little rest.

The Wild Woman and QT

The Lady and the Wild Man make a gingerbread house

The Lady, Wild Woman, Wild Man, The Little Lady, and QT with their Aunt and Uncle enjoying some fro yo

How to Try to Sell Your Home with Diaper Cream on the Lampshade

2011-11-15T15:58:00.001-05:00

Step 1: Buy a 2 bedroom condo at the height of the housing market as an almost married couple.

Step 2: Be impressed by the bells and whistles (Hardwood floors! Granite counter tops! Stainless steel appliances!)

Step 3: Pump out three kids (on average one every 22 months).

Step 4: Watch the bubble burst.

Step 5: Start thinking about moving when you find out you are pregnant with your 3rd kid (let's say around October 2010).

Step 6: Do nothing for almost a year, despite living at the beach the entire summer--an ideal time to put the house on the market so that it can be shown without said three kids wreaking havoc and questioning why you are moving, organizing or storing any of their things.

Step 7: Start to wonder why every time you get into bed you smell A&D ointment. What we call in our house "moonie cream."

Step 8: Realize that not only had a certain Little Lady used it in some artwork she made for you, but had actually emptied the entire container on your bedside table and rubbed it into the lampshade.

Step 9: Turn lampshade to face wall.

Step 10: Finally contact a Realtor, spend an inordinate amount of time cleaning your stainless steel refrigerator so it screams, "I am stainless--please buy this house!"

Step 11: Shove as many things as you possibly can into drawers, cabinets and closets.

Step 12: Try to coordinate an 11 am Realtor open house, while leaving at 7:45 am, after having to watch your husband dismantle your 5-month-old's bed to open up the room, all the while hoping that things will still be in some sort of order after all three of the kids wake up.

Step 13: Profusely thank your mother and your amazing Tues/Thursday sitter for removing your children from their home with the hopes that these Realtors will come in, look past the still toy cluttered "master" suite currently occupied by two ladies and try to sell the place to another young couple with the promise of hardwood floors! granite counter tops! stainless steel appliances!

Step 14: Pray that people actually come to look at the place.

Step 15: Pray that it isn't in the middle of nap time.

Step 16: Pray the Little Lady doesn't find the new container of moonie cream under the bathroom sink.

Pump it up

2011-10-26T16:59:00.000-04:00

Dear Other Pumping Mom,

We have only crossed paths a couple of times, those times when I couldn't get away from my desk and my every three hour routine had been disrupted. When I rounded the corner to find the door to the lactation room closed, the "in use" sign engaged and heard that steady grind of the pump through the closed door. Luckily, I could take advantage of the empty room next door and on those few occasions when I heard you leaving the adjacent room, I was tempted, for a moment, to peek my head out the door and say something like "Hey, I stuff my nips in hard plastic and hook them up to a vacuum too."

When I first got here I wondered if there was anyone else using the room, I checked the mini fridge to see if someone was storing their milk in there, took into consideration if the chair was moved, the door left open or propped up against that "Caution Biological Materials" bucket. Eventually, I started seeing signs of you, a discarded paper towel or two in the garbage can. (Aren't there are a lot of paper towels available there? I wonder if you too, ever took a few extra because you had run out at home and knew you wouldn't have time to stop on the way back, and I mean hey, there are stacks and stacks of them there and clearly there aren't a hundred people using the room and someone is taking the time to restock them, so really aren't they asking you to throw a few in your bag as you close the door behind you?)

I have often thought about leaving a little note on one of those paper towels. I read a book called "Nursing Mother, Working Mother" where all the women at IBM who were using the same room to pump would write little notes back and forth to each other about pumping and working and trying to stay sane. While this book was enjoyable, I decided that my time is best spent checking facebook and playing Bejeweled on my iPhone.

I wonder OPM, what you do while you sit in that chair for 15 or 20 minutes at a time, a couple times a day. Are you one of those moms who slipped a photo in the appropriate plastic covered area on your pump so that you could look at a picture of your child, personalize the experience, help to let your milk down? Or are you like me, who tries to make a few phone calls, even though the reception in the room is terrible, and the constant drone of the pump has a tendency to drown out whoever you are talking to? Do you check your e-mail? Try to read a two-week-old US Magazine that you have folded up and stuffed into that boxy, black bag? (Although magazine reading isn't that doable in there, because the counter is higher than the chair and if you try to put it on your lap it just gets tangled up in the pump tubes.)

Do you lean back and wonder if it is possible to nap in a chair that only goes to mid-back, while you attach your breasts to plastic suction cups and hope that you are producing enough milk? Maybe you are one of those uber-milk moms, where it only takes you five minutes to get five ounces, or maybe you are like me, walking around with your left boob a full cup size or two larger than the "milk dud" on the right, hoping that you pump enough for a full bottle because the baby is 15lbs 14oz and is eying table food with his big blue eyes and you know that it doesn't matter, where, when or what he eats as long as he gets something, but you, like me, would prefer it to be breast milk.

Is this your first child or your third? Have you always worked here so you are accustomed to the lactation room, taking for granted the fact that it is in an actual medical center, is clean, has a door that locks, a fridge, a pillow for your back, a working sink? Or have you pumped in conference rooms hoping no one knocks on a door to tell you a meeting is supposed to start in there in two minutes? With the battery attachment in the back seat of your car? Or in the handicapped bathroom that had just enough of an ick factor to skeeve you out, but had a lock on the door? Have you forgotten your pump yet and had to turn around in rush hour traffic to retrieve it? Or worse yet, gotten to work and realized you forgot the plug, a membrane (it will not work without that little white piece), or even just an ice pack for the cooler?

Are you pumping yourself full of fenugreek and oatmeal cookies? Are you sipping mother's milk tea and gallons of water? Are you wondering why there is so much hair in the garbage can in the lactation room? It is because I am shedding like a dog. (Also, I have been finding some grays. Not cool. The last thing I need to be doing, is putting on plastic gloves and trying to dye my hair over the tub.)

Are you hoping that this is all worth it? That the more you pump means the longer you can feel connected, knowing that your baby is still getting something of you, even though you aren't even in the room with him?

OPM are you as tired as me? Do you find yourself singing "Pump up the Jam" by Technotronics, because lack of sleep and the whomb-whomb sound of the pump have made you insane?

Pump up the jam
Pump it up
While your feet are stompin'
And the jam is pumpin'
Look at here the crowd is jumpin'

Because I am.

I am also grateful that somewhere in this big building there is another mother pumping away and I am not alone.

OPM, perhaps one day I will pass you in the hallway, our black bags a telltale sign of the connection we share. Perhaps I will give you a knowing grin, maybe we will nod heads in awknowledgement of our shared experience but until then, if you get a chance, leave me a note, there are plenty of paper towels in the lactation room if you are looking for something to write on.

Yours in all things boob related,
Bean

Big Fat Pity Party

2011-10-25T16:15:00.001-04:00

So this is going to be a bit of a pity party--be prepared. . .

How did I get to be a full-time employee in a Corporate (with a capital C) company? How did I go from poo foot and puke on my sweatpants to PowerPoint and ID badges? And how do I deal with the overwhelming and crushing guilt that keeps me up at night?

Oh wait, it is really QT who is still keeping me up at night because I have yet to cut the cord and make sure he is put back in his bed after each feeding. I usually wake up in the morning with him wedged in my armpit, while I have contorted my body into something that resembles both the fetal position and a backbend.

I am not sure if I was mentally prepared for this big of a change in my life. I am not sure I will ever be able to adjust to the role of "working" mother, because clearly, I was barely holding it together when I was working part-time. As my sister, who has it much more together than I ever will--with two-kids, a very demanding work schedule and who is on the partner track at her law firm told me--"this is just your new normal."

I wish there was a summer vacation involved.

I wish there were mornings where I didn't have to kick QT off the boob in order to get in the shower on time, mornings where I didn't have to leave before the Ladies woke up.

I wish that I had more than two pairs of pants, two pairs of flats and three cardigans that are work appropriate. I wish that three of those things weren't right now sitting on my dresser covered in baby puke.

I wish that after I paid the sitters there was something to show for it (perhaps a new shirt, because seriously, it is getting pretty dire, I really was wearing entirely too many pairs of yoga pants and until I drop the last of the baby weight, I am not squeezing in, sausage style, to some of my sweaters.)

I wish that 10-3 was the standard work day.

I wish that the copious amounts of peanut M&M's I have consumed in the last few weeks to combat my stress didn't taste so delicious.

I wish that all the Halloween parades and playdates and school events that I will miss in the next few weeks and months and years will be worth it.

and

I wish that my "new normal" affords us the opportunity to grow as a family, to take advantage of the time we do have together, and for me to provide the purple room with the bunkbeds that the Lady wants and a yard for her to run and run and run.

2011-10-23T23:07:00.000-04:00

There is nothing more heartbreaking then your two-year-old saying "Bye Mama" on her way to the ER.

It has been one of those weeks.

The Little Lady is at the ER with her father, she has croup and her breathing has been labored and here I sit, waiting for any information to come my way and feeling like I should be there, while knowing she is in totally capable hands and that I need to be here for the Lady and QT.

It did make me feel a little better when she requested that she wear her Twinkle Toes to the hospital, but not much.

I think that what I have realized in the past few weeks is that as hard as I strive to find that balance in my life that sometimes things just suck, and in these times of imbalance, I have to figure out how to make it work anyway.

How was Your Day?

2011-10-14T12:07:00.001-04:00

The Little Lady is always asking my husband "How was work?" or "How was your day"? She has also been known to wake up from her nap and ask, "How was my nap?"

Usually, she doesn't stick around for the answer, well Little Lady, here is the answer to your first question.

How is my day? How is my day? I am going to go pump for the second time and then go try to take a nap in the car, all the while hoping that you and your brother and sister are being well cared for by a sitter who I think might be overfeeding your brother and who is starting with another family next week so she can no longer help us out.

So Little Lady, because your dad will be away for all of next week and your grandma is holding down the fort with the Wild Ones and I am scrambling to make sure all the hours I need are covered, I will answer your question by saying this, if I knew anything about tweeting, I would tweet with the hashtag #fuckyoubacktowork.

The Mobile Bean

2011-10-07T11:22:00.001-04:00

Yea to Blogger for finally coming up with the mobile blogging app. And yea to my friend Bill over at thetwinsarequiteahandful.blogspot.com for letting me know about it.

Clearly, mobile blogging has become a necessity because I am back to work full-time and finding myself in a constant state of anxiety, unable to access the blog at work, too tired when I get home to make the effort my readers deserve, and yet full of blog topics that need to be addressed.

I mean where else are you going to be able to read about my boob leaking or the amount of times at the office (twice) that I have cried since I have been here?

I will say typing with one finger on the iPhone isn't ideal, but it gets the job done for now.

Stay posted and as always thanks for reading!

The Lady Turns 4!

2011-09-28T14:39:00.002-04:00

Happy! Happy!

Today the Lady turns 4. We have already gone out and gotten our nails done, browsed through a toy store, decorated pink cupcakes for school and personalized her birthday crown.

I wish her a year of dancing, laughing and learning.

I Love you Lady, have a very Happy 4th Birthday!

The Ladies Need a New Pair of Shoes

2011-09-14T22:16:00.002-04:00

Ah. . . back-to-school shopping. I am lucky that both the Ladies have birthdays in the late summer/early fall. It is nice to get some new clothes for them without actually having to take them to a store.

Shoe shopping is a different story. After spending the last three months either barefoot with the blackest of black-bottomed feet or clad in Crocs, I had no idea what size either of the Ladies would be wearing, so I knew I would have to drag them both out to be measured.

While my mom stayed home with QT, I loaded the Ladies in Minnie-Ru and headed out to the mall. I don't know if it is just denial, or if I am still pumped up with so many post-pregnancy hormones, but I am totally under the false impression that taking only two kids with me is some sort of easy outing. Clearly, I haven't been reading my own posts from the last two years.

Anyway, the Ladies and I descended on Stride-Rite with a sense of excitement, at least I felt excitement--I was out with my big girls we were doing something fun together--what the Ladies felt however, could only be explained by methamphetamine use.

These Ladies were all over the place. Sliding along the vinyl covered seats, walking into the window display to check out the Sesame Street themed shoes, banging on the toy piano they plant in the middle of the store for God knows what reason--because you know those Sales Associates probably just want to take a hammer to it, taking the socks and the hair accessories off the hooks and yes, even looking at some shoes.

We went to Stride-Rite first because I needed the Ladies to be measured. I wasn't even sure we would be purchasing shoes there, one, because sometimes they are a little pricey and two, because the Lady was insistent on getting "Sketcher Sporty-Shortys--that light up" and I knew they didn't sell Sketchers there.

Sporty Shorty

There are things I love about the DVR and things I hate about the DVR. One thing I love is that I have access to multiple Strawberry Shortcake episodes "on the Hub." One thing I hate is that the Ladies insist on watching said episodes without me fast forwarding through the commercials. Sketchers--I commend you, you do a fantastic job of marketing your shoes to little girls. Not only are your "Sporty Shortys" very popular in our house, but we are also considering the "Twinkle Toes." Kudos to you.

Twinkle Toes

I will say that brand loyalty only goes so far and since the Lady can't read and the Sketcher's commercials are cartoons, she doesn't really have a firm grasp on what the sneakers actually look like. So, sitting there on the shelf was a pair of sneakers that looked very much like those Sporty Shorty shoes and best of all they lit up and they were on sale!

I figured if I could just corral the Ladies and get them measured all I would have to do would be to have them try those babies on and we would be out the door.

Why do people who work in stores geared towards children always seem so miserable? Granted, I would not want to measure the sweaty feet of anybody, let alone a squirmy 2-year old who may or may not still have syrup on her leg from that mornings breakfast, but come on--crack a smile or at least try to engage them a little bit. You could go a long way by telling a 4-year old you think that the shoes they picked out are cool.

Clearly, we had a sub-par Sales Associate. After she measured the Ladies, I asked her to see if they had the Stride-Rite "Sporty Shorty Shoe" in size 10 for the Lady. (She is really a 9.5--no wonder her ballet slippers don't fit, they are only a 9--thank goodness for the foresight of Santa Sheils who ordered those Lelly Kelley's in a 9.5, they still fit and she still rocks them at school.) The woman disappeared the back only to emerge later with shoes for another customer and not the Lady. In the meantime, I was trying to get the Little Lady from running out of the store in her pink socks and asked another (still kind of surly) Sales Associate for two pairs of shoes for the Little Lady. By the time she returned with the two pairs, both of which the Little Lady had zero interest in, there was still no faux-sportys for the Lady. We waited a few minutes, but waiting in a shoe store with two kids who are on some sort of shoe-fueled sugar high seems interminable.

Finally, I was able to get the attention of the second Sales Associate who promptly told me that they didn't have the shoes in the Lady's size. Ugh. We slipped the Crocs on over the socks--I know, I know, I don't want my kids looking like European tourists at Disney World either, but we were running dangerously low the amount of time it would be before someone had a meltdown or my boobs started to leak.

We made our way to Payless. No Sporty Shortys, but a lot of shoes that kind of looked like them in size 8 and 10.5. On a side note--they do have ballet slippers there if anyone ever needs them.

Then Macy's, which I thought was a long shot and it was. However, they have really cool tights there that I am going to pick up for the Lady for this winter.

I understand that malls make it virtually impossible for you to get anywhere in a straight line. They force you to take the long way around so that you have to pass every single store out there. I get it, I do. What I don't understand is why they skimp on the Directory signs. I mean come on, I just want a list of stores that sell children's shoes.

Finally. Foot Locker.

And there they were in all their pink sparkle glory, just sitting on the shelf waiting to light up not only themselves, but the very faces of the children they are marketed to. Oh Sporty Shorty! Oh Twinkle Toes! Oh dear Lord, will someone please come over here and help us? The Ladies are once again sliding on and off the bench, tossing around tissue-paper pulled from the inside of some shoe and walking through the clothing displays.

"Can I help you?"

"We will take any color/combination of Sporty Shorty or Twinkle Toes in size 7 and 10."

So what the guy comes back with is two pairs of Sporty Shortys in size 9 and 6 and then assures me that they run big.

Dude, I get that you have been way more helpful then your Stride-Rite counterparts, and maybe it is true that these shoes run big, but I am not walking out of here with two pairs of $50 light up shoes with the hope that these Ladies won't grow out of them in like two months.

I tried them on the Lady and they fit. Like, they just fit. I put on the size 6 for the Little Lady and all she said was "Ow."

So, we stuffed those ill-fitting sparkle shoes and our dreams of a successful shoe shopping outing back into those pink boxes and we left.

Zappos.com, here I come.

Some Firsts

2011-09-14T11:05:00.000-04:00

We have been pretty busy since we returned from the beach. Gone are those days of filling up the pool and hanging out.

Since we have been back our schedule has started to fill. The Ladies both started back up at ballet. The only day that works in our schedule during the week is Sunday. So the Little Lady goes to Tiny TuTus at 9:30 and then we head back there at 12:30 for tap/ballet. It isn't ideal, but the Ladies seem to be excited about it.

I wasn't as prepared as I thought I was though, when the Lady went to switch to her ballet slippers after the tap portion of the class, they didn't fit. She just wore them in June for her recital. Stay tuned for a spirited post on shoe shopping with the Ladies. . .

Both Ladies started school this week. I was excited for the Lady to return to her school. It was a pretty smooth transistion, although we are in the afternoons this year. Scheduling around here is about to get much trickier.

Today was the Little Lady's first day of school. Yes, the photo below is the best one of her. She clearly does not have the modeling/posing thing down like her sister. She is doing "side of the eye" here. You have to love her though, she is off to school in her pretty pink dress, her owl backpack, her Cars and Toy Story tatoos and a Buzz Lightyear sippy cup.

Here is the Little Lady right before going into class. She insisted on the sunglasses. I am class mom for her program and since it is primarily parent run, we have had some glitches in communication. We left her seemingly content with the teachers, but I had to return to drop off an updated class list and the Little Lady saw me. Tears ensued, hers and mine.

I am picking her up in a few, swinging back home to feed the Ladies and QT and then dropping off the Lady at her school. In the meantime I am starting to fill with crazy amounts of anxiety because I got a full-time job and have to find someone who can do all of this for me. Guilty-mom posts to follow. Ugh!

Dear Pampers and Other Lines from the Little Lady

2011-09-06T12:21:00.000-04:00

Dear Pampers,

Please provide more Ernie diapers in your packages. I understand that Elmo is like crack-cocaine to the under three crowd, but for some reason my daughter has a preference for that funny, duck-wielding roommate of Burt and for some reason for every four Elmo or Cookie Monster diapers, there is only one Ernie.

Pampers, I can no longer tolerate opening new packages of diapers to find the one Ernie lost in a haystack of Grovers and even Big Birds--really Pampers? Big Bird? Granted he is a Sesame Street icon, and Follow That Bird, was cinema gold, but come on, Ernie is clearly more marketable.

I know that the Little Lady will be hopefully transitioning to full-time undie wearing in the next few months, but until then, for mother's everywhere who are dealing with this daily disaster, please, please give me more Ernie.

Thank you in advance,

Bean

*******

Speaking of the Little Lady, she has the uncanny ability to be both funny and terribly naughty at the same time.

Me: Why is QT screaming?
LL: I bite him.
Me: You bit him?
LL: No, I bite him.

I guess that in her desire to make sure that I heard her correctly, she completley disregards the fact that she actually bit her brother.

Baby Gave Me Back

2011-08-31T15:52:00.000-04:00

So, there is nothing like staring through your legs at your fat ass in a wall length mirror at the end of a Zumba class, which you got roped into and are clearly not coordinated enough to do, listening to the instructor who is wearing a t-shirt that says "Hello, I love you" and has made reference to, in earnest, about three times in the class, to kick off your foray back into fitness.

I just wanted a little treadmill time but instead spent 40 minutes avoiding looking into said mirror with hopes that I wouldn't catch a glimpse of my ample bosom or my belly shaking. Ugh. It must be almost September, another kid, another attempt to gain some self-respect.

I guess when you are forced to view your own muffin top, which has supersized itself into a McMuffintop, while bouncing on a giant orange ball, you really can't talk yourself into thinking that the black on black yoga pants/t-shirt combination is working for you.

Although looking at yourself clothed in a mirror is much better than having to see your stretch-marked stomach, covered in mosquito bites (from the dinosaur park that the Ladies love, but is filled with mosquitoes who only bite me and will do it through my clothes), while trying to shove on a pair of jeans.

Ah, so it begins again, armed with my Weight Watchers mobile app and about 20 extra points for breastfeeding, I hope to drop all this baby weight and more, now if only QT would nap without being held or snuggled in his super swing, maybe I would have a chance to get out of the house.

The Little Lady Turns Two!

2011-08-14T21:03:00.000-04:00

Happy! Happy! Little Lady!

We celebrated the Little Lady's 2nd birthday today. We went all out with the Buzz and Woody Theme. She was super excited.

To top it off we found Toy Story 3 on Starz tonight and are watching it before bed. A perfect ending to a Toy Story themed day.

To the Little Lady, I will say that you have in your two years brought me such joy. You are a smart, incredibly funny and beautiful little girl and I love you.

Here is a little look back:

The Little Lady, Day 1

Celebrating her 1st Birthday!

Terrific at Two

A Few Pics from Deep Creek

2011-08-07T22:02:00.000-04:00

I am still recovering from last weekend away and this weekend has already come and gone with more driving and more cousins and friends. I can't believe it is August already.

As promised a few pics from our annual Loyola College (now University) get-away weekend. I lost track of how many kids we have now.

Dance Party

All the kids. I am pretty sure this is the best one I have. At least everyone is represented, although QT is pretty hard to see in his car seat and that guy in the background is a complete stranger.

2007 Kids

The same kids (different order--look at the Lady on the left!) their first Loyola get-away

Since it didn't get dark until about an hour or so later than it does in CT, we moved the Glo-Stick Dance Party indoors

This is what I call dedication! Not only is she an amazing teacher and friend, the girl can tye-dye.

We're Back

2011-08-01T22:22:00.000-04:00

For all of those who were concerned we made it to Maryland (and back) with a few minor meltdowns, a unusually high request for the Ladies to use public restrooms and with a van packed with entirely too many things that we didn't actually need.

Despite 14 plus hours in travel time we had a great weekend with amazing friends. I have to thank my husband for doing all the driving, my children for limiting their breakdowns and the Dunkin Donuts in Chambersburg, PA for being there in every way possible for me.

Day Two: On The Road, Part Two

2011-07-28T12:34:00.000-04:00

It is 12:30. We are in the parking lot at Target.

Things are not going well.

Day Two: On The Road

2011-07-28T09:18:00.000-04:00

I am making this post quick. I am actually hoping to shower and get out of the hotel in the next half hour. My husband took the Ladies down to breakfast and QT has fallen back asleep.

To say that the Ladies were excited to get here would be an understatement. I have never seen so much exuberance over a hotel room. We didn't get here until 11:35 and they both woke up, ran around the room, smelled all the soap and shampoo and jumped on the bed. We put them on the pull out couch together, which was at first a tangle of feet and nonnies but at some point after 12:30 they must of fallen asleep. This was of course after the Little Lady once again insisted she had to go to the bathroom when in fact, she did not.

QT slept until a little after 3, so at least I was able to string over two-hours of sleep together. We still have a few stops to make (first stop: Dunkies) and then we will once again be on our way.

Still on the road. . .

2011-07-27T22:14:00.000-04:00

It is now 9:43. We just passed by Dorney Park after making a pit stop at Wendy's so my hubby and I could scarf down a burger and I could feed QT,who made it abundantly clear that he was ready to eat.

I have to say it really wasn't that uncomfortable to feed him in the back of the van while my husband shuttled both the Ladies to the potty, the Little Lady insisted that she had to go, and my husband brought her in two separate times only to have her return with no pants on and having not gone at all.

We are probably about two hours from our hotel room for the night but considering my hubby is manning the wheel I am sure there might be a minute orvtwo shaved off of that estimate. I am super psyched though because I googled Dunkies in the area and there is one down the road! I am hopeful that I will be adequately caffeinated for the rest of the ride tomorrow.

For now QT and the Little Lady are sleeping. The Lady passed out around 7:50 but woke up right before we stopped and is now watching Strawberry Shortcake for the eight millionth time and is singing one of the songs at the top of her lungs.

We really have no musical talent in this van.

On The Road

2011-07-27T19:35:00.000-04:00

It is 7:24 and we are about ten minutes into our two-day, seven plus hour road trip to somewhere in the depths of Western Maryland. I am thinking Blair Witch territory but I am not 100 percent sure. I am just going to allow my husband to drive and hope we don't hit too much traffic on the way.

I am going to try to keep you updated as we go because I am sure driving in Minnie-Ru with the Ladies and QT will be totally drama free.

If worse comes to worse I am made to feel better knowing that there are like six dozen fresh baked chocolate chip cookies in arms reach.

Wish me luck.

What's In My Bag?

2011-07-20T16:21:00.000-04:00

Many of you know of my US Magazine addiction. I have said it before and I will say it again, it is a half hour of brain candy that gives me a bit of a break during the week.

One of their "articles" is called "What's In My Bag?" (Click on the link to see what is in your favorite celebrity's gazillion dollar handbag) Basically, it is product placement in a fancy bag.

For the last few weeks we have been living at the beach. We have moved in as much as we can, but it seems that my handbag has become a catch all for anything and everything. I am about to share with you what is in "my bag."

Here is a photo of my super trendy LL Bean, medium sized tote bag with extra long handles so I can toss it over my shoulder.

As you can tell it is pretty packed. While the stars in US Magazine have $200 sunglasses and Chanel nail polish, I have the following:

My "Plan Ahead" address book that has not been opened since QT was born.
(1) Princess Ariel hairbrush
House keys to our condo
(2) size 1 Pampers, one with Elmo, one with Cookie
(1) Conair hairbrush (this one is mine and I have had it for quite a few years)
A random envelope with a grocery list from the first week we were at the beach on the back, stuffed with outdated coupons
A handful of bills that I should probably pay
State of Connecticut Department of Public Health Parent Notice with all of QT's info for the birth certificate (I guess I should go pick up the actual birth certificate at the Town Clerk)
Random coupons to Babies R Us and Carters
A receipt for QT's first visit to the doctor
A receipt for QT's one month visit to the doctor (did I tell you there was a fire alarm right after the doctor left the room? Thank goodness he sent the nurse in to give him the second Hep-B shot so I didn't have to go and wait in the parking lot until the alarm stopped)
A $25 gift card to Babies R Us. I am planning on using this towards an actual diaper bag, since this tote also plays that role
My tax bill for the condo
A direct mail piece from Weight Watchers with Jennifer Hudson looking all kinds of good on the front, offering membership for $1 until August 6th.
A baptism card for my godson (more on that adventure later) that I haven't sent yet
My wallet
A sticker with all the info for my prenatal vitamins that I have to refill
Two checkbooks
QT's Tri-Vi-Sol vitamins (which reminds me I should give him these when he wakes up)
A small change purse that has no change in it at all, but is full of partially used gift cards and a random photo of my best friend's kids
A pair of the Lady's sunglasses
QT's comb (it appears he is losing his hair and that male pattern baldness is setting in so I am not sure if I will actually need this)
A receipt for Stop&Shop from June 29th
A receipt from CVS for shampoo from June 9th
A Ziploc bag with breast shields and a nipple guard
Part of a Star Wars Light saber toy from McDonald's that belongs to the Wild Man and somehow made its way into my bag
A pair of QT's monkey socks
Concealer
Lip gloss that belongs to my sister and I am pretty sure we both used for my cousin's wedding in June
My running watch that has never been used because I am waiting for the OK from the Dr. to start working out again
(5) Books of stamps that I bought in advance of QT's birth to use for announcements that I have yet to make since I don't have a photo of all three kids together
(6) hair bands of various sizes and colors and (2) flower barrettes
A reorder form for my checkbook
(5) pens
(1) tube of Chapstick
(1) black Sharpie
(5 1/2) Crayola crayons, (1) sky blue, (1) silver, (1) melon, (1) midnight blue, (1) spring green and (1/2) thistle
A phone number and e-mail for a cleaning woman that I have never used but that I really should
A post-it note with the number of the Stamford Department of Health so that I can call them when I see workers from the market in front our house cutting vegetables with what can best be described as a machete on a piece of plywood outside of the store
An empty straw wrapper from Dunkies
(1) paper clip
A Pampers gifts to grow sticker
(4) Dunkin Donuts receipts totalling $23.02
$1.09 in assorted change

Not quite the celebrity bag full of imported mints and Swarovski encrusted smart phones, but this little exercise just got my bag cleared out and I think that Dunkies, Crayola, Sharpie, Weight Watchers and Pampers should expect a little bump up in sales from all the free publicity I just generated!

What is the strangest thing you are carrying in your bag? It would be nice to know that I am not the only one out there walking around with baby vitamins and enough stamps to make the Post Office proud.

Busy at the Beach

2011-07-15T18:05:00.000-04:00

I can't believe how quickly the past few weeks have gone by. Tomorrow QT will be one month old! A photo shoot will be forthcoming.

We have been busy at the beach. Here are a few pics of our most recent adventures.

This is the actual Fourth of July. Note that the Lady is missing. She had passed out in the car on the way to the BBQ and was sleeping in an upstairs bedroom, while the Little Lady and the Big Man enjoyed some mini-cupcake topped parfaits. This photo doesn't do the parfaits any justice, they were delicious and very pretty to look at, but I just had to include it to show the Little Lady's face and her little brothers apparent lack of interest.

QT just hanging out on the couch. He does have a bit of baby acne, but I am not going to stress over it.

Sailfest fireworks. This was the only time these kids sat still. They barely even watched the fireworks, they basically ran around and whipped each other with the glow sticks.

I am loving being within walking distance of the beach and being able to take little walks in the evening with everyone. Granted, QT is usually crying by the end but the Ladies are able to ride the carousel and have some ice cream.

The Ladies. About three hours after this photo was taken the Lady woke up from her bed with a high fever and then proceeded to puke all over the couch and her Dora blanket. I will give serious props to my husband for cleaning it up.

QT chillin' in his stroller.

It was super hot at the beginning of the week here. There is only one AC unit and it happens to be in the bedroom that my sister is in. We were lucky to be heading home for a night so that my hubby could play softball (yes, his injury is healed enough to continue to play) and so that we could cut our drive to LI the following day in half.

I will say that there are four things I miss about our home.

1. Central Air

2. Washer/Dryer on the main floor

3. Water pressure in our shower

4. Lionel--there really is nothing like a king-sized bed

However, after spending about 15 minutes in our kitchen/living room with three kids and a ton of stuff, I would have gladly given them all up (well maybe not Lionel--he is super soft and supportive) for a bit more room.

The next day we headed out to Long Island to visit my college roommates and have a bit of a playdate. To say that there were a few kids there would be an understatement. . .

We are back now and today I even made it to the beach! We are waiting for the Wild Ones to arrive this evening for more fireworks and fun.

Parenting vs. Pedicures

2011-07-08T21:24:00.000-04:00

I have to keep reminding myself that I have a 3-week old baby.

This is especially hard when you are spending your summer steps from the beach and have two very active, slightly demanding older children who aren't used to having their mother perpetually seated on a couch with a baby attached to her boob.

This is also hard when you feel like you should be starting to get more active, get out of the house and be more involved in all the activities that are going on around you.

So, when my cousin and I made plans to hit up the Nail Spa II, a fabulous little nail place where they basically give you a spa pedicure that includes paraffin and a hot stone back massage for the price of a basic pedi, I was excited to get out of the house and have a little time for myself.

Why is it that these things always turn from a relaxing little hour escape into a two-plus hour anxiety fueled stress fest?

The plan was to pick up my cousin at 3, but her husband was running late to watch her kids so at about 3:30 we left to pick her up from her place. He still wasn't home, but after waiting another 10 minutes or so he returned and we were on our way.

I had left the Ladies and QT in the capable hands of their father, who was suffering with a softball related leg injury (yes, he drove home mid-week specifically for a softball game but was thankfully back by 8:30 am the next morning, coffee in hand), that required some soaking in a bucket of ice water but did not limit his ability to parent. Besides both QT and the Little Lady were sleeping and I figured that we would be back in about an hour.

We got to Nail Spa II around ten to 4 and were surprised to find that all 12 pedicure chairs were filled and that there were 4 people in front of us on line. We were told it might be a little wait but to choose our colors and take a seat.

I decided on a dark blue called "Ski Teal You Drop" and the three of us settled in.

Have I mentioned that I had to order new pump parts for my breast pump and that instead of doing this before QT was actually born, I just did it this week? Oh, well there was no milk for the little guy and I had last fed him at around 2:30. If he was a bit older or formula fed and on any sort of a schedule I might have felt a little bit better about the minutes on the clock ticking by, but he is a strictly boob on demand kind of guy and I started to get a bit antsy.

Still, things seemed like they were moving and we were finally moved into our respective pedicure chairs. I turned up the massage function and tried to relax. More time passed and we wondered why they couldn't even put the water on for our feet to soak. (On a side note, my feet were filthy, between the bottom of the flippies I have been wearing and spending the majority of the day barefoot on wood floors that are cleaned regularly but attract so much dirt it looked like I had been living in the slums of Mumbai or some other equally dirty cityscape where people walk around barefoot and don't have regular access to running water.)

Anyway, Nail Spa II employs a lot of male nail technicians and finally one of them comes over, turns on our water and begins to give my cousin her pedicure. Another nail-male starts the pedi on my sister while I sat there, feet soaking and clock watching.

Eventually my guy comes over. My cousin is already on the paraffin wrap of her feet and the clock now says 5 o'clock. I have been sending periodic texts to my husband to make sure that all is going well at home, but the level of anxiety I am feeling is directly affecting my enjoyment of the foot rubbing I am (finally) getting.

To make matters worse, I am pretty sure while he was scrubbing my feet my guy said something about how dirty/roughly callused they were to the nail-male doing my sisters french pedi and then her guy asked her if I was her mom. Ugh.

It seems like this guy was either really taking his time or was totally Johnny Inexperienced. All the relaxation I was feeling between the massage chair and the foot rub was quickly exiting my body and I could feel my shoulders tensing up. Both my sister and my cousin had now moved to the "drying" area and has been given a nice shoulder massage by their respective nail technicians. At 5:15 my guy finally goes for the "Ski Teal You Drop."

Normally, the actual polishing takes the least amount of time during a pedicure. However, either not many people have chosen "Ski Teal You Drop" and the bottle was old or old Johnny Inexperienced wasn't well versed in the application of toenail polish. He finally put a few drops of nail polish remover in the bottle and was able to finish the second coat.

At 5:23 I get a text from my husband saying "He's awake and the Little Lady is smacking me. . . get home soon."

I am in full-on panic mode, my boobs are starting to hurt and I am worried that I will be walking into pure chaos when I finally get home.

At 5:30 I finally get out of the chair and move over to the "drying area" the guy comes over with the hot stone and I have to refuse him. I hand him my credit card and then watch him try to actually ring up the transaction. This takes entirely too long, but it does give my now very blue toes a chance to dry.

I tip him, tear off the toe separators and we all head for the door. By the time I drop my cousin off and we pull into the house it is almost 6 o'clock. I can hear QT through the open windows and I break into what constitutes me sprinting at this stage post-pregnancy.

Luckily, he had only been crying for a couple minutes, but any bit of rejuvenation or recharging that I had hoped to gain from an hour or so out of the house had completely vanished. Granted, once I start pumping it will be easier to go out without feeling such overwhelming guilt and without being so preoccupied with what is going on at home, but still can't a girl get a few minutes for some foot rubbing and a little chatting with her fam without having to stifle panic attacks?

I guess there will always be that feeling of trying to make sure that my children are taken care of while at the same time trying to make sure that I am taking care of myself. I know it will get easier as they get older and once again I will remind myself that I have a three-week old and that for now he is completely dependant on me. It all goes back to the balance I seem to be ever searching for in my life.

So now my toes are polished but my feet are once again pretty dirty. All the kids are sleeping (for now)--check that I think I just heard QT upstairs so off I go. . .

Blogging from the Beach

2011-07-04T14:36:00.000-04:00

WTF?

What day is it?

Have more than two whole weeks passed since I have last updated this blog? Let's see a few things have happened since then. . .

We brought home little QT, not sure how excited he was to leave with us!

We went to the Lady's first dance recital

And we celebrated Father's Day

We moved to the beach and the Lady started "college" with her cousin

The Little Lady spent some time eating yogurt and playing in the pool

We headed to a sock hop and the Little Ladies posed for the camera

Ice cream at the sock hop, before everyone headed out to fireworks

We got together with our cousins, we are missing a few here, the Lady had just woken up from a nap and QT wasn't quite big enough to be held by the older kids

We got decked out in our Fourth of July gear

And QT took his first real bath

Phew. It has been a crazy couple of weeks.

More beach blogging to come. . .

Little Boy Bean

2011-06-17T18:19:00.000-04:00

Finally. . .

After 16 posts I get a day off from blogging to deliver a beautiful baby boy. It was a long day but well worth the wait.

I am thinking of calling him QT on this blog, first of all because those are his initials and second of all because he is a cutie.

The Ladies already love him, although the Lady, like her mother was very surprised that he was a boy. I am glad to say that her response to "What will will do if it is a boy?" which was "I won't like it" doesn't appear to be the case. And the Little Lady, well all the Little Lady wants to do is hold "her baby." We will see how this all works out once we actually get home.

Here are a few pics.

Before the boy was born

Just hanging out

The Little Lady and her baby

The Lady, her dad and her baby brother

Note there are no photos of me. There were some taken, but my face is so swollen it just looks sad!

Blog A Day 'Til Baby (BADTB) Post 16: Short and Sweet

2011-06-15T19:08:00.000-04:00

Trying to get my act together here so I will keep this short and sweet.

Still no baby.

iPhone died around 1:30 this afternoon when I had the Wild Man and the Lady at the park, and I had no idea how to reset it. (Hormonal fueled panic ensued)

Had to bring the Lady to her dress rehearsal for her dance recital on Sunday and was very excited to see her so excited about performing. Getting the costume didn't hurt either.

Couldn't get in touch with my husband since I had no phone--always great when he shows up an hour later than usual. The only good thing is that he had called Apple and was able to reset the phone. (It is both buttons--not just the one on the top or the one on the bottom--both buttons!)

The Ladies are in the tub and I am hoping for an early bedtime.

My schedule for the rest of the night is Store, So You Think You Can Dance, Sleep, Baby?

Blog A Day 'Til Baby (BADTB) Post 15: Signs

2011-06-14T10:00:00.000-04:00

This morning my pants split.

I was doing some sort of half crouch-squat move trying to pick up something off the floor and the fabric just had had enough. It didn't split up the back but down the crotch exposing my new cotton undies and leaving me feeling pretty sure that the universe was sending me a sign that this pregnancy should end.

To make matters worse, these were one of two pairs of my "casual" pants that I have been wearing pretty much non stop for the last week or so and have to have my husband tie the little strings on the bottom because, clearly I cannot bend over.

Then a bird pooped on my windshield narrowly missing me. I know it is supposed to be good luck for a bird to poop on you but I am glad it missed me because I don't know if I could have gone home and found anything else to wear to work today. Luckily, it just hit Minnie-Ru (which is what I have named our mini-van--yes, I came up with a name for her and am still not 100% sold on our choice if this kid is a girl), so I took that as a second sign that good things would be happening.

Finally, as I pulled up to the bagel store to grab something quick for breakfast since I haven't been food shopping in over a week, I heard U2's "The City of Blinding Lights" on the radio, which is the song that was playing when I first held the Lady almost 4 years ago. It reminded me to be a bit more patient because soon enough I will be holding this baby in my arms as well. Don't ask me what song was playing when the Little Lady was born, eventually I will just randomly pick one off the playlist that was on in the background and claim it to be true, but her birth was so quick it was kind of a blur. There is a possibility it was "Stronger" by Kayne that or a Dylan song.

So even though there aren't any real physical signs that this baby is showing up today, I am pretty sure it will have to happen soon. I mean how much longer can I patiently wait without having some sort of hormonal infused breakdown where I pound the floor with my fists and start burning maternity clothes?

Blog A Day 'Til Baby (BADTB) Post 14: I Got Nothing

2011-06-13T20:53:00.000-04:00

Seriously, nothing is happening. Went to the doctor today and there hasn't been any change since last week. I could check myself into the hospital at some point this week but for right now we are on a wait and see type of schedule.

I guess I will actually go to work tomorrow. I mean the sitter is coming and I have already cleaned the house for her. In an ideal world, I would be going into labor as my husband pulls into the driveway tonight and we would be on our way, but alas, this babe has other plans.

The good news is I picked up a new nursing tank. Oh, can't wait to stuff my engorged breasts into those for a few months. I also picked up some new cotton undies. Tried to get some cute looking ones to make me feel better about getting them at Target and not Victoria Secret, but somehow I don't think it is really going to do the trick.

So sorry for the lame post my energy is lacking as is any sort of creative spark. Just hoping this kid arrives soon so that I actually have some news for you all.

Thanks for checking in on me every day. You guys have been amazing.

Blog A Day 'Til Baby (BADTB) Post 13: Glitter Be Gone

2011-06-12T21:02:00.000-04:00

I promise you all out there if I ever bring you a gift that is covered in or includes glitter, you can buy my children the loudest, brightest most annoying toys out there in return.

In all seriousness--Do. Not. Bring. More. Glitter. Into. This. House.

We have a princess coloring book that is a "color wonder" product. What this means is that you can only use specific markers on the paper provided and these markers will not color on other paper or your bedspread, your kitchen table or your terribly inappropriate white couches. However, each piece of paper is also covered with what I can only describe as an excessive amount of glitter.

The Ladies of course love this craft.

They played with it in their room the other morning and since then I have found glitter on the Little Lady's eyebrows and in her diaper. The Lady, since she still runs around in just undies in the house, has it all over her belly and her legs. The bottom of both their feet look like a disco ball and since they love to spend so much time in my bed, my sheets are starting to sparkle.

Yesterday morning, my husband drove us down to my sisters to help us pack up the mini-van so we could get everyone out to LI. When I sat down in the passenger seat next to him and looked over at his face I couldn't believe the amount of glitter that was in his hair on on the side of his face. His ear was covered, he literally looked like he had been ear-fucked by a glitter fairy. That, or he had somehow made his way out to some all night rave. I had to check out the Little Lady's crib to make sure none of her pacifiers were missing (yes, I know she is almost two and still uses a paci, but it is only for naps and nighttime and right now I am not willing to try to wean her off when we will be introducing another person into her life.) Turns out they were all accounted for, and he had just been involved in some early morning craft time with the Ladies.

The vacuum has come out, but it doesn't seem to be able to get the whole job done. I am pretty sure that the new baby will be exposed to a glitter boob or two in the first few days of its life (that is if he or she finally decides to show up soon!)

Stay tuned and for the love of god do not bring us any glitter encrusted baby gifts!

Blog A Day 'Til Baby (BADTB) Post 12: Too Tired to Title This One!

2011-06-11T20:46:00.000-04:00

Still blogging. . .

We had a very busy weekend so far. I made it to the wedding and we had a wonderful time. My cousin had a great day to get married and I was glad I was there to be a part of it.

We got home pretty late, I was pretty sure I was going into labor on the way home between the extreme driving my husband was doing and the amount of potholes that lined the roads.

We packed up the mini-van this morning with the Ladies and the Wild Ones and we headed back to LI to spend a little more time with the fam and to give them all the opportunity to soak in what spending a few hours with the four kids really means. I was grateful that I was able to go.

We will see what the rest of the weekend brings (hopefully, baby number three!)

Blog A Day 'Til Baby (BADTB) Post 11: Mobile Blogging

2011-06-10T14:04:00.000-04:00

Sitting in traffic heading to Strong Island for my cousin's wedding. My sister and I are flying solo to the ceremony because of our significant others work commitments. I am sure their 5:00 departure time on a Friday afternoon will get them to the reception on time.

Obviously there is no babe. Best case scenario is that I go into labor on the way home and this kid pops out sometime in the early morning hours of Saturday.

Perhaps I will post a few photos of me tearing up the dance floor. Stay tuned.

Blog A Day 'Til Baby (BADTB) Post 10: Due Date

2011-06-09T10:46:00.000-04:00

Due Date, released in 2010 is a dark bromance/cross-country adventure that pairs the likes of Robert Downey, Jr as father-to-be Peter Highman who through a series of misfortunes and coincidence has to drive cross country with Zach Galifianakis, as aspiring actor Ethan Tremblay in order to make it home for his child's birth.

Oh, I'm sorry, were you not looking for a review of the movie Due Date? I was prepared to do a scene-by-scene breakdown of the movie for you today. I figured it would keep me busy, keep you informed and distract me from the fact that today is my actual due date and it doesn't look like this baby is arriving.

I have to say I had high hopes. I know that it is super unusual to actually drop out a kid on your due date, but at 3am last night I was thinking it might happen. It would have been perfect, we could have gotten to the hospital without any traffic, the sitter would be coming in the morning for the Ladies, I could have been waiting out this heat wave in the "comfort" of an ac'd hospital room and not have to worry about how fat my feet were getting and I could finally stop wearing the same black shirt.

Oh, well. Looks like I will be shoving my body into the maternity dress my best friend wore to my wedding six years ago and heading out to see my cousin get married tomorrow. I will say I am grateful for the opportunity to see my family so if the baby isn't going to show up on its due date, I am hopeful it can at least wait until Saturday!

Blog A Day 'Til Baby (BADTB) Post 9: Staying Cool at the Pool

2011-06-08T20:30:00.000-04:00

We had a busy day today. Started out early at the acupuncturist--have I mentioned I love this woman? I left there with some ear tags that are supposed to stimulate the uterus and the Ladies left with stickers. I thought it was a pretty good start to our day.

We hit up a Moms Club meeting/playdate and then stopped home to pick up our bathing suits and headed down to hang with the Wild Ones.

To say that setting up a backyard pool and allowing any of these children access to a garden hose is not the best idea in the world is an understatement. There was a lot of mud and splashing, but they had a great time and kept cool.

The Little Lady and the Wild Woman

The Lady. The Wild Woman was busy blowing bubbles (that is her little butt in the blue and white suit at the bottom) and the Wild Man wasn't too sure about the temp of the pool.

We ended the day with four relatively well behaved children at a restaurant with my sister and my parents, my hubby threw them in the tub when we got home and they are now quiet in their beds.

I am planning the rest of my weekend with no expectations that this baby will show up. We will see.

Blog A Day 'Til Baby (BADTB) Post 8: Post 8--UGH!

2011-06-07T15:03:00.000-04:00

Post 8 and no baby!

I guess I shouldn't be too surprised considering that my due date isn't even until Thursday, but in all honesty the reason I don't blog every day is because it isn't like my life is that exciting and as cute and funny as the Ladies are, there are some days that are blog worthy and others that are not.

I could tell you about sitting in the bathroom last night at nine o'clock with the Little Lady on the froggy potty, ordering me to sit down on the toilet, while she closes the door and asks for privacy, then gives me a play-by-play of her bodily functions. I mean it is pretty cute when she tells you she "tooted" and then laughs hysterically, what is kind of weird is when she describes her poop as a "banana poopie" and then the Lady tries to check it out when the Little Lady is clearly still sitting on the potty. I swear, if that girl does not start putting her hair back I am going to lose it. It is almost down to her butt!

I could tell you that I googled "bloody show" today. I wasn't prepared for there to be images.

I could tell you that we still aren't 100% on our girls name and that there is a real possiblity the legal name of this child, if female, will be "Last Lady" or LL.

I could go into great detail about the anxiety and uncertainty I am feeling about bringing another human being into this world, or we could simply discuss Weinergate or Extreme Makeover: Weight Loss Edition.

But for now, I am happy to just get a post up. It means I am one day closer to the end of this pregnancy and one post closer to blogging about spit-up, cracked nipples and squirt bottles.

One More Thing. . .

2011-06-06T14:29:00.000-04:00

My dear readers,

Just as an FYI, I have partnered up with Moms/Daily Buzz, which is a place you can all go to to get your hit of mom blogs. One of my BADTB posts was featured here last week. http://moms.dailybuzz.com/quiet-time

Check out the site and "like" the post if you want. I am always looking for new readers!

This partnership does mean that there might be some ads coming to the Three Bean, but I assure you that things will remain pretty much the same, you know a lot of talk about babies, boobs and balance.

Thanks to all of you for reading.

Bean

Blog A Day 'Til Baby (BADTB) Post 7: My Ladies

2011-06-06T14:08:00.000-04:00

I went to the Dr. this morning and things seem to be moving in the right direction. I am not going to get into the induction conversation I had with her due to her son's med school graduation on Friday, but I will say that I hoping this kid decides to get here soon or just not show its face until after the weekend. We have things scheduled in our lives as well this week, so I am leaving it at that. Next week might be a different story, but until then we are choosing to wait it out.

In the meantime please take a good hard look at the outfit the Little Lady chose to wear today. She looks like an European tourist at Disney World. She is wearing a hand-me-down long-sleeved (yes it is like 85 out there) Buzz Lightyear shirt from the Wild Man, yellow short-shorts (seriously--can't they make shorts for little girls that aren't riding up their ass?) a pair of trumpette socks with the faux Mary Jane style sewn in and a pair of pink sandals that she pulled out of a donation bag a couple of weeks ago and insists on wearing.

I have to applaud her on her Independence and originality and in all honesty I would actually be pretty OK with this outfit if her hair was just out of her face!

And here is the Lady on the other side of the easel in her romper and sparkle shoes striking her model pose.

I am trying to make sure that I am taking advantage of the time I have with the two of them before this baby arrives. I also want them to know that mismatched socks and sandals and sparkle shoes with a fake smile are the little things in my life that not only make my day, but make me realize how much I love them both.

Blog A Day 'Til Baby (BADTB) Post 6: Mommy Wants a Muumuu

2011-06-05T21:48:00.000-04:00

From The Simpsons: King-Size Homer

Homer: I'm looking for something loose and billowy, something comfortable for my first day of work.

Salesman: Work, huh? Let me guess. Computer programmer, computer magazine columnist, something with computers?

Homer: Well, I use a computer.

Salesman: [quietly, to self] Yeah, what's the connection? Must be the non-stop sitting and snacking.[more audibly] Well, sir, many of our clients find pants confining, so we offer a range of alternatives for the ample gentleman: ponchos, muumuus, capes, jumpsuits, unisheets, muslim body rolls, academic and judicial robes --

Homer: I don't want to look like a weirdo. I'll just go with a muumuu.

**********

I too, don't want to look like a weirdo and am thinking that at this point a muumuu is my only option in terms of comfortable, last days of pregnancy wear.

The weather is warm, and the long sleeve shirts and cardigans I have been sporting for the last nine months aren't cutting it in this weather. Granted, I was pregnant in the summer with both the Ladies, but after wearing those clothes through two pregnancies, I found that most of them were stained and kind of tattered and I figured that I would get a few more things as I got closer to my due date.

However, I am literally down to two pairs of "casual" pants, one at least is full paneled so that I am not too worried that my actual stomach is hanging out, the other pair is low paneled but I like them better so I have to deal with the daily dilemma of of pulling my shirt down low enough to make sure my stomach isn't poking through, but then risking the exposure of some serious boob salad. It is a catch-22 that I think could be easily solved with a multi-colored muumuu or perhaps a king-size bed sheet.

Luckily, I have a very best friend who showed up to dinner the other night with some yoga pants from Old Navy to wear post-pregnancy (oh yes, Old Navy you have roped me in again--did I mention that I actual went out and bought another pair of smelly jellies? This time for the Little Lady, who loves them just as much as her sister does) and I have been able to mix those into my casual pants wear, but the t-shirt selection is still pretty small. I did buy a full coverage t-shirt from Target last weekend, but decided it wasn't worth it to buy more than one because I was so close to my due date (seriously kid--come out soon!) so now I am just washing said black t-shirt almost every day in an attempt to make sure I don't have to do the belly vs. boob face off and hoping that the baby shows up soon so that I can start wearing my nursing bra/tank-top/yoga pants/beach dresses summer wardrobe that I am hoping will get me through the next few months.

But until that moment when this baby finally shows its little face it's the muumuu that momma wants, I mean really who wants to look like a weirdo?

Blog A Day 'Til Baby (BADTB) Post 5: What a Difference 6 Years Makes

2011-06-04T18:02:00.000-04:00

I am pretty sure I posted this pic last year, but I like the way I look and this is my blog, so there!

Six years ago at this time I was sitting in a bridal suite with my husband waiting to be "announced" before our wedding reception at a beautiful waterside locale with all my friends and family.

Right now, I am sitting at my computer with the only dress large enough to drape over my swollen body, my hair soaking wet, having just cleaned up the Ladies dinner and trying to squeeze this blog post in before the sitter arrives at 6:15.

I will say, I am grateful that my hubby and I are going out. It has been a while since we have gone on an actual date night and once this kid comes I will miss our weekly lunch dates during the workday, so forgive me if this post is short.

I would like to thank my husband for the last six years of marriage, for giving me the two Ladies and for the one on the way. I guess I am hoping that this kid decides not to make its appearance this evening (or at least until after midnight so we don't have to share celebrations and I get extra time in the hospital.)

I am not sure what is still left to do. I scrubbed the toilets today, we cleaned and organized, everything is ready to go for this evening and my bag is now officially packed with toiletries and the iPod.

I guess I will go out with my husband, celebrate our anniversary and be grateful for the wonderful things we do have in our lives.

The view!

Blog A Day 'Til Baby (BADTB) Post 4: Getting Ready

2011-06-03T20:20:00.000-04:00

I know it's late.

Perhaps some of you were hoping that because I didn't post earlier that maybe this baby decided to show itself. I too, was hoping the same thing. Yet, I find myself at 8pm the Ladies in bed but not sleeping, my husband marvelling at the power of Scrubbing Bubbles as he cleans the tub (hey, I can't reach in those corners or bend over to scrub the floor), posting again.

I will say that today was a good day. I am not sure how many of you are actually familiar with the "Fresh Beat Band" but there songs have permeated my life in a way that is totally unnatural. I find myself singing "It was a great day, the very best day. . . " in the shower in the morning, during my late night bathroom breaks and I apologize but I am at a loss for any other literary inspiration and will simply say again we had a good day.

My to-do list is getting smaller,which makes me less anxious about not being prepared for this kid. The Lady was invited over for a playdate and the Little Lady and I were able to get a lot of errands done, including going through the new drive-through pharmacy, which is just so amazing, as you might recall some of our earlier attempts to get prescriptions filled.

The best part about the whole day was that my husband came home from work early and I was able to take a nap. Granted, I could hear the Ladies in their room above me, jumping on the bed, spilling out toys and doling out abuse towards each other, but it was a nap. A real nap.

Tonight, I think I might finally watch "Twilight," which has been DVR'd for about 6 months and then try to get to the last few things on my list tomorrow.

Oh, and the bag is packed, there is no car seat in the car, but we are getting there.

Off to check on the Ladies. I can hear the Lady playing with her glow-in-the-dark drumsticks.

Blog A Day 'Til Baby (BADTB) Post 3: Momma Got Some "Me Time"

2011-06-02T14:04:00.000-04:00

Today was the Lady's last day of school. Let me just pause here and get a little emotional. I mean, my first-born finished her first year of nursery school and I am grateful for all the wonderful experiences she has had this year. Although I am glad we won't have to rush to get ready to get out of the house (at least until she goes to her summer program in July), it would have been nice to have her in class for a couple more weeks or at least until after the baby is born! But to celebrate the occasion and to make sure I got to the end-of-the-year party at the playground, I decided to take the morning off from work.

It just made sense, by the time I dropped her off and got into the office I would only have a little over an hour or so before I had to head back out to pick her up. So, with no feelings of guilt (mommy or other), I kissed the Lady goodbye, hauled my fat ass into the drivers seat of the mini-van (seriously, I think I need a step stool to get up into that thing these days) and went and got my nails done. Did I mention it is beautiful here today? I mean the oppressive 85-90 degree heat we have had for the last few days is finally over and there is a day out there that can only be described as glorious. I think it would be a perfect day to deliver a baby--but apparently I am not in control at this point.

Anyway, I settled myself into that pedicure chair with a health and fitness magazine filled with exercises I have no intention of ever trying and advice from Gwyneth Paltrow who lives in her own little fantasy world of how actual people conduct their everyday lives and let that lovely pedicurist rub my fat feet into a state of bliss. Now, I would be lying to you if I didn't admit that I have heard that having a pedi can sometimes induce labor as well--some reflexology thing, but that wasn't the main reason I was there. Mostly, I was just trying to salvage a few minutes for myself without having to worry about any one else. The best part about it was that I had a g.c. from my brother and sister-in-law so the not only was my time guilt-free it was actually free.

And then it just got better when some other lovely lady asked if I wanted a massage as I got my nails done. Yes. Please. Seriously, just beat my back like you are trying to tenderize meat. What a difference an hour to yourself with a stranger rubbing your back makes.

I then spent the rest of my morning roaming the aisles at CVS, drinking an iced coffee and checking e-mail while I sat in the van with the windows down and didn't have to worry about Strawberry Shortcake or whether or not the Little Lady would actually be "jumping in" to her carseat.

I tell you people sometimes it is just the little things, a mani-pedi, a jaunt through CVS, two-hours of "So You Think You Can Dance" audition shows on a Wednesday night with my grossly inflated feet in an elevated position and the Ladies in bed that make me think I might be able to handle all the changes that are about to come my way.

I am a new woman with painted toes ready for a new baby--let's hope it happens quickly.

Blog A Day 'Til Baby Comes (BADTB) Post 2: Momma's Got the Fat Feet, The Ladies Never Listen All Day

2011-06-01T17:33:00.000-04:00

It has been a long, hot day. My feet are looking pretty Barney Rubblish. My husband told me last night that he didn't think they were that bad. I would just like everyone to know that he did not marry a woman with fat feet. I guess it is better that this is happening during the last week or so of pregnancy and not the last month or so, like it did for both of the Ladies.

This is what my feet look like.

The Little Lady and I have been out of the house for most of the day since we dropped the Lady off for her second to last day of school.

We ran a few errands including the bank, Dunkies (obviously), dropping off a health form at the doctor's office for the Lady's summer school program and hit up the acupuncturist. I could kiss that woman on the mouth. She is just so amazingly nice and in addition to pushing those needles in tighter now that I am closer to my due date, she also gave me some herbal remedies to get things started. We will see how it goes. I am willing to try anything at this point.

There were highs and lows to most of the day. The Little Lady took an early nap, which was a high considering that we had afternoon plans that could have been very hairy if she skipped a nap (well, it was still a little hairy, but not as bad as it could have been.) However, she will not just get into the carseat and sit. She insists on "jumping in" the seat herself, which is a ploy to sneak either into the way back or the front passenger seat, only after she has pushed the button to close the automatic sliding door. Normally, this wouldn't be that big of a deal, but my belly is too big to squeeze into the more confined spaces of the mini-van and I end up yelling at her while she laughs at me from an unreachable distance. Ugh.

Both Ladies were pretty well behaved at the sibling tour at the hospital though. We were there with three other very preggo moms who each had two other kids. To say it was a bit overwhelming might be an understatement, but the kids watched a silly video, we got to see a very sweet and tiny newborn and everyone left with crayons.

Unfortunately, we had to go straight from there to my doctors appointment. I never take the Ladies to anything where there is a waiting room involved if I can help it. The Little Lady was great at the acupuncturist in the morning but we were only there for about 40 minutes and she sat very quietly in the stroller, and was also able to play with some of the toys they have there. The wait at the OB/GYN didn't go as smoothly. It consisted of me bribing them with two Dum-Dum lollipops each and the promise of DQ after the visit. None of which did anything to stop them from trying to open the cabinet with the used "instruments" in it, jumping on the scale and having me have to get up (pants less) from the table to bring them to the bathroom (yes, I put my pants back on for that) and corral them into submission.

Finally the doctor came in. The Ladies were able to hear the baby' heartbeat and although it seems like things might be moving in the right direction (I will spare you the jargon that includes the word "softening"), nothing is really happening at this point, so it looks like I will be taking herbal remedies and blogging yet another day.

Blog a Day 'Til Baby(BADTB): Post 1

2011-05-31T10:36:00.000-04:00

I decided that will post a blog a day until this baby comes. In my heart of hearts, I am hoping this kid comes tomorrow. I am going to the acupuncturist in the morning and asking her to work her labor inducing magic, then I am taking the Ladies to the hospital for the sibling tour so they can see where the babe and I will be staying and finally I have an afternoon doctors appointment. I think that either the hospital or the doctors office would be good places to start going into labor.

In reality, I am sure I will be waiting this out for at least another week or so, although the way I am feeling now makes me wonder how it is possible that this kid isn't ready to come out. It is certainly taking up a ton space in my belly and I have had both the Ladies try to speak to it in an attempt to coax it out, and by speak to it I mean yell in the general direction of my baby bump "Baby come out! Baby come out!"

I haven't gone so far as to do the whole spicy food/eggplant parm route, but that didn't work last time so why even bother?

I will also try to refrain from making these posts "poor me" posts, even though I have had a few minor breakdowns, and instead just try to capture what the last week or so with just two kids is actually like. I will say we are trying to keep busy. We went up to the beach house for part of the weekend, the Lady had her first drop-off birthday party on Sunday and we cheered on the Wild One's dad in a Memorial Day parade.

This is the Lady's last week of school and I can't believe that she is going to go into a 4's program in the fall. I have started to really cross things off the to-do list in terms of getting everything ready for the baby, however that does not include actually packing a bag for the hospital or digging the infant seat out of the garage and putting it in the mini-van. All in good time. I figure as long as I get myself there in a timely fashion we will be fine, right?

Getting Away for the Girls Weekend!

2011-05-24T10:39:00.000-04:00

On Friday, I left the Ladies behind and headed out in a "normal" car, which in all honesty felt very low to the ground in comparison to the height I must admit I am becoming accustomed to and enjoying in the mini-van.

I think that as a parent there has to be a bit of decompression time. And I will admit that I felt a little guilty, for not really feeling guilty as I drove down towards NYC to pick up one of my very best friends at Penn Station then through the Lincoln Tunnel on our way to the beach for our annual Girls weekend.

There is something to be said for spending a weekend in the company of women you met when you were 18 years old, and have continued to rely on, depend on, seek advice from, complain to and confide in. It helps that we are all moms with multiple kids, trying to navigate the everyday. Some of us work, some of us stay home, but it really is kind of freeing to have no walls up to be able to be yourself, not just the "Ladies mom" or my husbands wife, but a bit of that college aged girl who had a few hours to sit around a talk about everything and anything.

I will admit to mostly discussing our families and a lot of our conversations did revolve around parenting and motherhood

50% was about how cute are kids are and how much they drive us crazy
20% was about how we must be failing miserably at being moms
5% was about how we are amazing moms
10% how our husbands were faring at home
10% Celebrity gossip and all things US, Star, People related
5% Snack food discussions

All in all, it was a great weekend and as happy as I was to see the faces of not only the Ladies, but my husband who handled it all in his own way, I am already looking forward to next year and am grateful for not only the female friendships I have in my life, but for those few stolen days to nurture them and eat pepperoni bread and peanut butter M&Ms.

Mother's Day and More from the Mini-Van

2011-05-10T11:31:00.000-04:00

The Lady and I went to get our nails done on Mother's Day. It was nice to do something special with her alone and she was super excited that she got flowers painted on not only some of her nails but her toenails as well.

She is concerned about a recent chip that has formed and keeps telling me she wants to go back to the nail polish store and have them fix it. While I am glad we were able to do something together, I don't want her to get hooked on mani/pedis at three and a half. I think we will keep it to special occassions, but I am reminded that I will now have to go out and get some nailpolish remover and hope the Little Lady doesn't get too jealous that her nails aren't painted pink.

The Lady drying her nails. She also got a lollipop!

More from the Mini-Van

I am easing into the mini-van lifestyle. I will say that I drove our other car over the weekend and was a little freaked out that I was so low to the ground! We are still trying to navigate the DVD player, meaning I don't want it on everytime we get in the car and the Ladies are pretty insistant that it happen.

Here is the view out of my rearview mirror on a daily basis.

The Lady in her headphones.

The Little Lady totally passed out, but still wearing the headphones.

Happy Mother's Day

2011-05-08T13:40:00.000-04:00

It has been a very busy weekend for the Three Bean. We have been out and about all over.

Just want to take a minute to wish all my momma readers out there a very Happy Mother's Day. Thanks for reading and thanks for letting me share my stories.

I hope today is filled with flowers, "me" time, uninterrupted showers, homemade cards and kisses. And if it isn't, I hope you get at least five minutes to yourself locked in the bathroom with a magazine.

Have a great day!

Love and kisses,

Bean

Happy Birthday To Me!

2011-05-06T14:53:00.000-04:00

Thanks to all my well-wishers on fb for all your b-day comments. 35! Ugh.

Hoping to have a nice night out with my hubby. I think we might take the van out, maybe come home and watch a movie in the car. Who knows, the point is that we have the entire night ahead of us and even though I won't be throwing back any booze-infused drinks, I am glad to be celebrating my b-day.

Also want to wish a very Happy Birthday to my dear, dear friend Lauren. I love you and I can't imagine sharing a b-day with a better woman or a better friend.

Say my Name

2011-05-04T16:06:00.000-04:00

As my due date fast approaches--5 weeks left to go--we are still up in the air on what to name this kid if it indeed turns out to be the Last Lady. We do have a few names but they are on a very fluid list that seems to change daily.

As always, I am checking out the celeb baby names just to see what new and unusual monikers are out there. So when I clicked on the article about Mariah Carey and Nick Cannon's releasing the names of their twins, I don't know why I was surprised by the ridiculousness of it all.

Boy name: Moroccan Scott
Girl name: Monroe (no middle name--like her mother)

The boy was apparently named after the top floor of Mariah's penthouse, the girl Marilyn Monroe. Hey, I applaud individuality and wanting to name your kids something that not everyone in their classroom will answer to, but Moroccan? Really? Really? Does Mariah know that these are children and not little frilly, pouf-pouf dogs that you carry around in a Louis Vuitton bag? Yikes. Hopefully they will call him Rocco. And hopefully we will decide on a name we like as well.

Momma in a Mini-Van or the Three-Bean Baby Driving Machine

2011-05-02T16:25:00.002-04:00

Well, it finally happened--we got a mini-van.

Let's pause here for a second and let that sink in.

Mini-van.

Can you tell I have conflicted feelings? Can you tell that even though our lease was up, on what some may deem as our equally uncool station wagon, and that we definitely needed a bigger car to accommodate our growing family, that the thought of an actual mini-van has haunted me for a while?

Let's be perfectly clear, the last time I spent any considerable time in a mini-van it was being driven by my then 19 or 20 year boy-toy (now my husband) around the streets of the town where we grew up in an ardent attempt to find a place for us to hook-up. I don't know if I should even be admitting to that because I am not 100% sure he won't still get in trouble for it. But in the spirit of full-disclosure, and the fact that he knocked me up three times leading us to this mini-van purchase, I am fully admitting it here.

Let's also be clear, I am not a car person. I have no idea about makes or models and I don't particularly care about all the bells and whistles. I am glad when the radio works and the AC does its job. If asked to identify the getaway car after a hypothetical bank robbery, I would maybe be able to tell you the color and if it was a very recognizable make like a Hummer or a VW Bug. But the terms "late-model sedan" or "V6 engine" mean less than nothing to me.

And yet I found myself trolling the Internet looking at any type of car that might accommodate my three kids and our uncanny ability to accrue stuff. I looked at SUV's and cross-overs. I researched price and style and I tried to figure out what would work best for us as a family. Sure, the smaller SUV's with the optional third row were more sexy than the boxy vans, but in all actuality they looked like a pain in the ass to get car seats in and out of and they were lacking on storage space.

So, I found myself one damp, chilly evening with my husband and the Ladies in the double stroller, a light mist falling on our heads, walking the lot at a local dealership looking at the mini-vans. They were spacious, they had dual-sliding doors, DVD players, storage space, all the things you want to hear when you are shopping for a family car. But I was still a little skeptical. Could I picture my kids in a van? Yes. Could I imagine myself driving one? Not so much. It isn't so much the cliche of being a mom in a mini-van, it is just that these things are so big and I am not used to driving such a large car. I mean, if we just had the square footage of the mini-van added on to our condo, I am not sure we would have to put the place on the market. The other issue is that these vans are all automatic. I haven't driven an automatic car since 1994, not since the days of the Chevy Cavalier and my first few months on the open road.

Well, we looked at the options, the Ladies got out of the stroller and sat in the seats for a while, we went inside and my husband sat down and talked numbers with the car guys and I tried to entertain the Ladies with glossy brochures and photos of our not so distant future when we too would be mini-van driving.

As it turns out my husband found a good deal at a different dealership and so a few nights later we repeated the scene, the Ladies once again in tow--this time strollerless and wandering aimlessly around the show floor trying to get into cars and letting me know that if we did get a new car, it should be red.

I will not get into the amount of things that happened/went wrong/needed to be accomplished in a very short window of time between the time when my husband called me on the Friday before Easter and let me know that the dealership in our town couldn't honor a deal that was being run by one in the town where we grew up (a short 1/2 hour away) and that we would have to go over to the other dealership on the Saturday before Easter in order to check out what their availability was, all before my husband left the following Thursday and our old car needed to be turned in just a mere four days after that. Phew.

The anxiety that this caused me could have induced labor. I will say (and I know this is technically a backhanded compliment) that although I think my husband could have been a bit more on the ball about handling all the ups and downs of this transaction (like perhaps starting to look for a new car more than a week and a half before the old one--one that needed repairs and to be inspected by the leasing company--needed to be turned in, and that only he could pick-up the new car from the dealership even though he knew he was going to be gone for a week. . . I could go on, but I really am trying to be nice here and not get my blood pressure rising. . . ) in the end, he did take care of everything that needed to be done and he drove that mini-van off the lot with the Ladies all excited in the back and even told me he thought it was a "smooth-ride," when we both know it is a mini-van and I was super scared to drive it. So, I will say thank you to him and that I love him very much.

So like I said, the Ladies were very excited. The Lady had fallen asleep during the ride over to the dealership to pick up the car and the Little Lady was wreaking havoc indoors with her father, so when the salesman came out to show me all the bells and whistles that this new ride had to offer, I had to contend with the Little Lady climbing on the seats, trying to get into my lap and push buttons and throwing a fit because she wanted to drive. When the Lady woke up, we were able to get her into her seat, attach the headphones to her head and pop in Strawberry Shortcake. You better bet that I came prepared with some DVDs and quite honestly that was the only option in the entire van that I wanted to be proficient in before we drove out of there.

The Ladies on their maiden voyage in the mini-van.

The Little Lady really thinks she should be driving this thing. Note the amount of stuff already in the car and the fact that one part of the way back is down, but I can't figure out how to get the seat back up.

So, the next morning I put the Lady in her new car and drove her to school. Did I make my husband wait to make sure I could back out of the garage OK? Yes. Did he call me later in the day and ask why it took me 5 minutes to back out of the driveway? Also yes.

But now that I have almost 5 days of mini-van driving under my belt, including a two-hour drive to the beach house, I am trying to focus on the positives of this family machine and less on the stigmas of being a mini-van driver. I know that there is a divide out there in the parenting world about these vans. There are those in the "Loser Cruiser" camp and those in the "Swagger Wagon" one. I will say I was hesitant about joining the "Swagger Wagon" constituency, mostly because it seemed a little cultish. Every mini-van driver out there seemed to be trying to convince me to join their side. I also was convinced that the minute I pulled into my driveway in the new car, I would be compelled to get those cartoon stickers for the back window that represent each person in our family.

In the end, I think we made the right decision for our family. We got a nice new car with ample space for not much more than we were paying for the wagon. It has drop down DVD players with headphones for the Ladies and the option to watch two different movies at once, plus a rear view camera so that I can see if I am backing into any garbage cans.

It also has three free months of satellite radio. So I set the dial to the Grateful Dead channel and sometimes I find myself thinking about those other vans I might have spent some time in in my youth while waiting for a concert or two to start, and then I look in my little fish-eye mirror and catch my own little miracles in their captain chairs, singing off-key to the Strawberry Shortcake theme song while wearing their headphones and I think that maybe we made the right decision after all.

Hippity, Hop, Hop

2011-04-28T11:20:00.000-04:00

Here are a few pictures from our Easter weekend. It was a whirlwind as usual but I think the Ladies really enjoyed themselves and we got to spend a lot of time with family.

This is a pic of the Ladies with their new umbrellas, courtesy of the Easter Bunny. Yes, they are wearing nothing but a raincoat and boots in this photo. And yes, the Little Lady is wearing a size 5T raincoat because she wanted to and we don't have any in her size.

The Lady. I mean she poses for every shot. It is hard to catch her in a candid moment. We will be having a personal photo shoot this weekend because she needs to bring in a photo of the two of us for "share" on Tuesday at school. Is it totally pathetic that I have like zero photos of me and my kids together? Probably, but I also have a double chin, occasional bouts of adult acne and am in dire need of a brow wax.

The Little Lady running. Note the band aid on her arm. It is a Lightning McQueen band aid. She had it on for like four or five days. It made it through a few baths and finally had to be removed last night at my parents house, only when it was replaced by a Dora and Boots band aid. Please be aware there is no injury to cover and she is, in old-school rapper style, wearing it only as a fashion statement.

I don't know why I am constantly surprised after these Holidays when we come home with literally bagfuls of stuff. I am grateful for the generosity of our family, but we now have 8 new Easter baskets, like 75 plastic eggs and one giant Ziploc gallon-size bag full of candy that is slowly losing all of its delicious mini Snickers.

Dear Old Navy, RE: Smelly Jellies

2011-04-19T12:03:00.004-04:00

Dear Old Navy,

I recently purchased a pair of your pink sparkle jelly sandals for the Lady. To say she was excited by this purchase would be an understatement. Anything pink, anything sparkle, anything shoe related has some immediate effect on her little toddler brain. This shoe purchase was actually a bit of an impulse buy on my part because we were returning a dress that she refused to wear, after picking it out herself on a prior visit. Since she had seen the jellies on our last visit and I told her that at another time we could get them and since we had the store cred--well we went home with the jellies.

Old Navy, I have to applaud you on your security/impressive sales technique of these shoes. You have them clipped together in such a way that it is virtually impossible to try these shoes on let alone walk around in them to see how they fit. In order to actually get a good sense of how they actually feel on the Lady's feet we had to purchase them. Bravo, Old Navy, Bravo.

Now, I will say that I have made plenty of purchases from you in the past. You do have easy, affordable clothing that I know will eventually fall apart in my washing machine, but in terms of comfort, style and my wallet have helped me round out my wardrobe and the wardrobes of my Ladies on many an occasion. In fact, I am looking forward to my post-partum days where I am wearing pretty much nothing but your tank tops and yoga pants as I try to maneuver the world of three kids.

I don't want to get too far off topic here, the real reason I am writing you is to let you know that your jelly shoes stink. They smell so bad that I am considering burying them in the backyard, however I am fearful that whatever chemical component these shoes are made up of may leech into the groundwater and contaminate my drinking water.

I mean are these shoes made out of glitter and toxic waste?

The info listed on the sole of the shoe says that they are made out of "other materials" it doesn't even say plastic on there. I mean is it horse parts and pixie dust? Seriously, I am concerned.

I am concerned for the people responsible for making these shoes are they losing patches of hair? Do the inside of their noses look like they have suffered from years of cocaine abuse? How are the delivery people handling the overwhelming stench coming off of these shoes as they open up the back of their trucks and unload? Are Old Navy employees complaining? Will they start wearing paper masks?

I will say that the smell was present in the store, but since it was a large place and since I wasn't quite sure where the source was, I bought the shoes. It wasn't until we got home that the sad reality set in. The Lady loves these shoes but the stench is driving me crazy. I have left them at the top of the stairs so they don't co-mingle with the Ladies toys or food preparation, but every time I walk in the door I am hit with the rank odor eminating off of these pretty pink shoes.

I know I am pregnant and have a heightened sense of smell, but I am worried that one day I will wake up and the Lady's feet will have absorbed the smell of these shoes and I will have to live out my days with the knowledge that I purchased smelly jellies for my kid and that it has permanently permeated her feet.

Where is the line Old Navy between affordable, cute and cool and purchasing items that may or may not be polluting the air and land outside the factory where these are produced and causing my gag reflex to go into overdrive every time I enter my house? Tell me where?

The other day in sheer desperation I opened the window and put the shoes on the ledge. The Lady wanted to know why her jellies were hanging out on the window sill. I told her that I thought they smelled bad. She took them down, fastened them to her feet and told me she liked the smell. I am pretty sure she thought I would get rid of them, but there is no way that anyone could like the smell of what I can only imagine is a cross between liquid ass molded into a shoe shape, combined with shimmer and the dreams of those factory workers somewhere in the depths of China who hopefully have access to nose plugs and some Glade room deodorizers.

In closing, I wanted to make you aware of the double-edge sword your store offers me and my family. You are so good at drawing us in with your great deals and campy ads, your affordable prices and your use of sparkle. However, at the end of the day, when the tags are removed and the shoes are off, I am left with nothing but a nagging feeling that I am a terrible parent because I have exposed my child to a product made of "other materials" and have brought a shoe into my house that has started to not only erode my sense of smell, but that has left me partially high on the sick, chemical stench, which I am pretty sure isn't great for my unborn kid.

So, Old Navy, until we meet again in a cramped dressing room, with the three to five beach dresses I will be purchasing to drape over my post-pregnancy body, I am yours in stank,

Bean

A Little Tap, Tap, Tappy!

2011-04-12T11:23:00.001-04:00

All dressed up for tap/ballet!

As promised a photo of the Lady in her tap outfit. She loved, loved, loved the class and I am super happy that she was so into it. She also didn't give me any trouble about putting her hair back! Ah, the little victories!

The best part about the entire class is that the studio has been redesigned and the parents are no longer inside the room with the kids. This means that I can actually leave the dance studio and not have to worry about the Lady missing me or the Little Lady trying her hardest to join the class.

There is a window to peek into, which is great you should have seen the Lady's face, all I can say is joy, joy, joy as she shuffled and stamped her way across the floor, and I will probably hang for a few minutes at the beginning and end of each class, but I don't have to worry about her always being on the look out for me.

I will say we have had to limit the tap shoe time in the house. As much as she loves these shoes, they are super loud. Not sure my husband appreciated the recital that took place above his head on Saturday morning, but hey the Lady needs to practice her art.

"Scared" of Sesame and the Ladies Love to Dance

2011-04-07T11:45:00.000-04:00

The Little Lady at her Music and Dance Class. The other kid in the photo was everywhere. Tried to crop him out, but no go.

So, my husband took the Ladies to Sesame Street Live last weekend. We purposly did not tell the Lady where she was going because she has a tendency to talk herself out of new experiences before she even tries them. Apparantly, she was initially excited when she saw the sign and the truck with all the characters on it, but then turned to tears when the actual entering of the building occured. She told the hubby she wanted to go home and that she was "scared of Oscar." She has been using this "scared" excuse for a couple of weeks now. Sometimes she is scared of school, scared of getting dressed and her teacher told me that the other day at school she told her she was "scared" of washing her hands for fear that her princess band-aid would come off.

I am pretty sure "scared" is code for "I want to do whatever I want, without you interfering, so deal with it."

The Little Lady, however, had a great time. She was singing and swaying. That kid can't get enough of Elmo. I was glad that the Wild Ones were there as well with their parents. I know more hands help, especially in an arena filled with kids and muppets.

I was just as happy to take a little nap, have an uninterupted shower and a bit of rest to help me finally get over my cold.

I will say I was a little surprised that the Little Lady wasn't as enthusiastic about her first music/dance class this week. I expected her to be clapping and running about in the midst of everything, but she held back a bit at first. Granted, she will be going with the sitter to this class, so it was probably hard to have me sitting there watching and not really partcipating with her, but I wanted her to get used to going without me. I am hopeful that she gets into the swing of it. (Note the hair clip in her hair in the photo above. She will only wear it with the sitter, it is crazy!) I will say that by the time the bubbles and the parachute came out, she was a bit more involved.

We will see how the combo class of ballet/tap goes on Friday with the Lady. She already thinks she can tap dance in her sparkle shoes. I am going to have to hide the real ones from her at home. Talk about a lead foot, that girl can pound the floor. The thing I am actually more concerned about is the fact that in this class the dancers have to wear their hair up.

Please for the love of God Lady, don't tell me you are "scared" to wear your hair back.

Smell My Teeth

2011-03-31T12:26:00.000-04:00

It always amazes me how differently the Ladies can act in situations outside of our home, or with people other than their parents.

For instance, the Little Lady refuses to wear a barrette in her hair if I put it in, however, every Tuesday when I come home from work, her hair is pulled out of her face in a cute little hairclip because the sitter and not her mother put it in.

The Lady also has dual personas, she is the "school Lady", who is apparently a pleasure to have in class and who never gives the teacher any problems. The Lady who is shy about asking one of the kids in her class to move over a little because he is sitting on her "letter" on the circle rug in the classroom, but who will in a heartbeat kick her sister in the head if she is encroaching anywhere too near to her pillows or blankets or couch cushion.

She is also the little girl, who has selective hearing when it comes to listening to her parents. For months, I have tried to get her to brush her teeth more consistently and with greater vigor. Her father and I are convinced that the two of us alone will be giving our dentists kids the future education they deserve with the amount of times we are in that office. I know I am pregnant, but every three months? Come on--I promise I will floss. But the Lady is less than diligent with her dental hygiene.

I tried getting the Lady an electric princess toothbrush. She likes to press the button and put it in her mouth, but for the longest time refused to put any toothpaste on the actual brush. She also gets bent out of shape if you wet the toothbrush first. It has been a hassle. Her little sister however, is more than happy to stick an Elmo toothbrush in her mouth any time it is suggested, pretend to spit into the sink from as far away as three feet, then drop the toothbrush on the floor somewhere for me to step on at a later date.

Anyway, on Tuesday a dentist came to the Lady's school and they apparently watched a video, she was given a goody bag with a blue sparkle toothbrush in it and has since then brushed her teeth no less than 15 times. With toothpaste!

Yesterday after I picked her up from school, she told me the schedule for when we got home was "Brush teeth, milk, big girl show." She then informed me that I had to stand outside until she was finished brushing her teeth. Not outside the bathroom door, but outside of the house. Normally, I would just go along with her suggestions, but the Little Lady was passed out in my arms, the door to the house was locked and required me to actually open it, and I have been battling a sinus infection for over a week. Needless to say there were some tears shed (hers and mine), but in the end some teeth were brushed.

The best part about the entire process though is that after each brushing session, the Lady runs over to us with a big smile on her face and says "Smell my teeth!"

And even though there is pink toothpaste smeared all over the hand towels, and the occasional cup of water is spilled I have to say they smell delicious, Lady, they smell delicious.

Guest Blog from Steadman's Army: Let's Talk TV

2011-03-24T10:57:00.001-04:00

Enjoy this guest blog from Steadman's Army, it has been a while since we had any guest bloggers here, and a while since I devoted any real time to blogging about TV watching. This blog takes care of both! Enjoy.

Let’s talk TV. This will be my second year of using Aileen’s blog as a vehicle for informing the public what they should be watching. My credentials? I continue to pay over $230/month for the fios triple play with the platinum movie package and 5 cable boxes, including 3 hi-def DVR’s. BTW, there are 4 people living in my house, inc. an 11 month old and the occasional in-laws. Deal with it. About 6 months ago I also noticed the playboy package (2 channels) had been added as well at 17.99/month, although no one in the house seems to know anything about it I narrowed the suspects down to my father-in-law and my 3 year old son - and I could not be any prouder of either of them. Obviously I kept paying for it even though it’s essentially unwatchable until the ‘juicy stuff’ comes on after 11pm, aka my bedtime. Deal with it.

Smallville is in its final run and on track for its best season yet. This isn’t saying much considering the first five seasons all consisted of Clark talking to Lana about feelings in the loft of his barn. It was about as much fun as taking a cheese grater to your privates, but she was finally written off and now Lois Lane is out-acting and out-cleavaging everyone on the show. It’s glorious. As Hugh Laurie is back into full vicodin relapse, House continues to deliver the goods. 30 Rock is the best comedy on TV, and has been since its inception. Two and Half men, winner of like 15 emmy’s for best comedy, has always sucked, and Modern Family and The Middle are worth mentioning but certainly do not get DVR privileges on any of my box space. NBC’s Thursday night lineup, The Office, Parks and Recreation, 30 Rock is still king. 48 Hours Mystery is the best show on Saturday night, and CBS Sunday Morning is the jewel in Sunday’s crown.

Other than that I have been watching the occasional Antiques Roadshow and an insane amount of Wow Wow Wubbzy. I don’t have time to watch anything good, ok? My wife and I get about an hour to ourselves from 9-10 at night and most of that I spend in a scalding hot shower with like 100 pieces of gum in my mouth crying tears of blood.

Wubbzy

Oh, and I have the DVR queued up for the upcoming HBO miniseries ‘Game of Thrones’ but that will probably sit unwatched until it gets bumped for space because somebody accidentally taped 2 hours of ‘Golden Oldies’ music on channel 1927. Deal with it.

Supermoon, Other Orbs and Minor Musings

2011-03-22T15:42:00.000-04:00

My husband and I talked up the supermoon to the Ladies on Saturday, and after getting them all dressed in their feety pajamas and bundling them up to go outside and see it, we were a little bit bummed that it was hiding behind some clouds. Considering that it was past their bedtime and our little excursion outside was done in sheer desperation so that they would actually go to bed after seeing it, I was a little bit annoyed. I mean this thing only happens like every 18 years or something. The next time these kids see that supermoon they are going to be in their 20's. Yikes!

And speaking of large orbs, my husband would like it if I didn't discuss my areolas on this blog. I can't make any firm promises to him because in all actuality they come up a lot in my everyday conversations and daily life, but I will make an effort to keep the chatter to a minimum.

And one more minor musing for today, am I a terrible parent because I have no intention of turning the Little Lady's carseat back to rear facing even though that is the new suggestion and she isn't quite 2 or close to 30 lbs? I certainly don't want to ever put her in danger, but I really don't think she would even allow it. Just wondering what the rest of you with those under 2 are thinking. It is weird to think the new baby will be rear facing until 2013, which seems like a very long way off. I am certainly not advocating ignoring child safety standards, but I mean, I remember riding in the back of hatchbacks with no seatbelts when I was little. Luckily, my husband is tall and the Lady is in the 95th percentile for height, I am hoping this means that all my kids will make it to 4ft. 9inches before High School, not sure they would be willing to ride in the booster on their way to Junior High.

Step on a Crack, Break your Mother's Back or Ahh, Ahh Acupuncture. . . Why Yes, Please Poke me There

2011-03-17T15:57:00.007-04:00

The backpain that I experience during pregnancy can best be described as having a contestant from the Biggest Loser (week one) take a permanent seat on my tailbone for at least nine months. I endured it early on during the pregnancy with the Lady, even when my sister and I were walking upwards of 4 miles almost every day. Ahh those pre-baby days where all we did was chat uninterrupted, while being able to take advantage of having no real timetable to adhere to, no diapers to change, no chicken fingers to bake and when we could still concentrate on our own well being. By my second trimester though, I sought the help of a professional. I went to the chiropractor that my mom and little sister were going to.

There were a few problems with that though, I was living in Connecticut and commuting to Long Island for three days out of the week. Then I was driving from either Long Island or Connecticut to the town in New York where my parents live to meet with this guy for a grand total of like 10-15 minutes, like three times a week.

The TZ, where you can spend days of your life.

The stress that I felt just trying to cross the Tappan Zee Bridge and get to the appointment on time made my back seize up. And although, I felt "better" leaving each appointment, especially after the guy would crack my neck and all the anxiety I had about that each visit would pass, the back pain was never really alleviated. Plus, I was locked into this 2-3 day a week contract with a payment plan and I didn't want to waste my money, so I kept going.

When I was pregnant with the Little Lady, I decided not to take the chiropractic route, just for the sake of my sanity and my wallet, even though the back pain started earlier in the pregnancy and was more intense. I was busy running after the Lady and I figured it was just my cross to bear. I mean, I was pretty lucky in terms of other aspects of the pregnancy, what was a little back pain? Just because it left me feeling like an 85 year old woman by the end of the day and forced my husband to either pull me up out of chairs, or literally push me from behind so that I could get out of bed, I could handle it right? Besides, I knew that once I delivered the baby that the pain would go away. I likened the pain to the Bangles Song "Eternal Flame" and pushed it to the back of my mind.

Is this burning an Eternal Flame?

I was lucky that it was extinguished post-partum.

So, here we are the third time around. I am partially convinced that the Ladies are making the pain worse by insisting that they both be carried. "Hold me momma, hold me," is a common phrase heard in our house, but I am also becoming convinced that the sheer amount of running on the cracks of our wood floors, which causes me to stress over our downstairs neighbor being "disturbed," coupled with the fear that one of them is going to run straight into the kitchen cabinets and crack their head open, is doing nothing to relieve any pressure, anywhere in my life or on my body.

Thankfully, I have other moms to rely on. At one of my Moms Club events, I was not only informed that one of my fellow moms practices Reiki, but also given the name and number of both a chiropractor and an acupuncturist. I figured if I can't take a real pain killer, I might as well go the alternative/healthy way. I wrote down the numbers in the back of my daily planner and then pretty much forgot about them. The pain however got worse.

There were times at night when I would hobble to the bathroom to pee and have to brace myself on the bathroom counter, because the rim of the toilet seat was not quite enough surface area to support my back and the searing pain that shot through my lower back was enough to make me contemplate those giant wee-wee pads you get after delivery, those or Depends.

Modern Family's take on Reiki.

I tried the Reiki first. For those of you who are not familiar with it or only saw that "Modern Family" episode where James Marsden was living in the princess castle in Cam and Mitchell's backyard, Reiki is actually an alternative practice that deals with the transfer of energy through the hands into the body. There is touching involved but no actual manipulation like massage. I figured I would try it out. Not only is the mom someone I trust and am comfortable with, but when else do you get to lay on a table for an hour, listen to calming music and relax? Plus, she made me a kick ass smoothie post-Reiki session and it was delish.

I will say that even though I had a hard time "turning my mind off" (I can't help it, I think about eighteen million things a second) and the chorus to Bon Jovi's "Lay Your Hands on Me" kept on playing in a loop in my head (I know, not really an appropriate song, but I love me some Jon Bon!), that I left that session feeling relaxed and renewed, which is something I needed desperately at that point. My back felt okay, it wasn't like the pain had disappeared, but in all honesty that wasn't what I expected. The fact that my overall mood lifted was a much better fix than the back.

So, I kind of rode that wave for a few weeks, until I decided that I really had had enough. By the end of the day at work, I was half limping down the stairs, by the end of the day at home I was wobbling around from room to room, I broke out the body pillow, I tried some stretching, I tried to ignore the pain, I finally picked up the phone.

When I first spoke to the receptionist at the health and wellness center, she informed me that they didn't take my insurance and that the intial consultation would be $300 and that each follow-up visit would be $85. Way too much for me at this point. As much as I was willing to pay for someone to take away any of the pain, I wasn't going to shell out $300 for an initial visit that I wasn't even sure was going to help me. I told her that deal wasn't going to work for me, but she said she would talk to the acupuncturist and get back to me.

Oh, the pain killer gods were looking down on me. I heard back from the health center and the initial fee was waved and the follow-up visit costs were halved. I made my first appointment.

So I found myself walking into an office in a strip-mall along one of the main drags of my town, where I was greeted by a very nice woman who brought me into a room where I sat on a heated table and explained my pain. I was grateful she was a mother, so she knew what pregnancy felt like. I also found out she was currently pregnant and was a member of my online moms group. I was feeling comfortable, but a bit unsure of what to expect.

Pre-visit, I did ask the mom who gave me the info what I should wear, she suggested loose clothing, which these days is pretty much what my entire wardrobe consists of. I wasn't sure where the needles would go and figured that the shave job I did on my legs two-days earlier would be fine (so of course she put a needle in my leg), I also didn't expect any needles in my feet where the big toes of both my feet are speckeled with the remnants of a really dark shade of brown from a pedicure pre-Christmas, which I can't get off because I threw away the nail polish remover because it expired in 2007 (so obviously, there were needles in my feet). I had showered that day, but the allotted time I spend moisturizing is pretty limited and mostly I am just putting cream on my face, so not only were my legs hairy, my toes chipped with polish, but they along with the rest of my body were pretty flaky and dry.

I also wasn't sure how she was going to access my back since my belly is pretty big and there was no way I would be on my stomach. So I was put on my side, with the left side up, and then my loose fitting pants were uncerimonisously pulled down to mid-ass region.

I have a problem getting undressed in front of my husband at 28 weeks pregnant. I just don't want to totally scare him away with my super-dark-saucer-sized areolas attached to my breasts that at this point must weigh in at like 7lbs a side, plus, there is the stretch-marked belly. Getting my pants pulled down and my white, cellulite-ridden ass exposed in front of a total stranger I just met 10-minutes earlier--no problem, especially if she is going to stick me with a needle.

I think it's best I can't actually see her putting these in.

So, for about 10 minutes I got poked and prodded with tiny needles in my feet, my leg, my hand, my back and my ears. The acupuncturist told me that she couldn't get the needles too close to my sacrem, which is where most of the pain is stemming from because it could induce labor. I made a mental note to visit her on June 9th and have her implant 25-30 needles in that exact spot.

Then, she covered me with one of those foil-like camping blankets and left the room for 20 minutes. Again, it is amazing what some quiet time can do for someone. Granted, I could hear a conversation about hot dogs through the wall, where I assumed the office of the storefront next to us was, but even that didn't damper my spirits. I mean some people get stoked about hot dogs what can you do?

Who doesn't like a photo of hot dogs?

When she finally returned and took out all the needles, I wasn't sure what to expect, but I what I was able to do was get up pain free from the table and notice an immediate difference from how my back felt when I walked in, to how it felt at that present moment. I allowed myself to hope. I allowed myself to quell those distractions in my head that said it wouldn't work, it couldn't work, it was a waste of time, of money, etc... And as I walked out of that office, pretty much pain free the immortal words of the Bangles drifting through my head in exaultation

Say my name, sun shines through the rain

A whole life so lonely, and then you come and ease the pain

I don't want to lose this feeling. . . Ohhh

Ohh indeed. Ohh indeed.

Sugar Tests and Scrabble

2011-03-15T11:39:00.000-04:00

I am now almost 28 weeks pregnant. As many of you moms know that means that it is time for the glucose test. Basically, it is a test for gestational diabetes, something I am grateful not to have had to deal with in both my prior pregnancies, and something I am hopeful I won't have to deal with in this one.

Basically, you fast overnight get your blood drawn, drink a disgusting, room temperature sugar drink that tricks you into thinking you might be getting something similar to orange soda, but in reality just makes you a little queasy and lightheaded, sit in the waiting room for an hour and then get your blood drawn again. It seems fairly simple.

Yesterday, I set my alarm for 6:45 with the hopes of getting to the lab by 7:15. However, as mentioned in a previous post, my alarm clock pre-dates my college days and if the volume works at night, it doesn't mean it works in the morning. So when I woke up to the Little Lady calling me almost an hour later (hey its daylight savings time, these kids haven't adjusted yet--don't judge my sleeping habits!) I knew I wasn't making it.

Last night, I decided to set the alarm on my phone for 6:35 so that I would get there by 7 and be out of there by no later than 8:15. This would still give me time at home to get the Ladies ready (with the hopes that the Lady would want to go to the special screening of Peter Pan that her school was putting on in lieu of actual classes because of staff-development), fill up my travel mug with my pre-made iced coffee (look at me planning ahead!) and throwing some fruit salad and yogurt in my little lunch pack (eating healthy too Bean? how ever do you manage to be so organized?)

You see where this is going right?

So the alarm didn't go off at 6:35 and instead I woke up at 6:50 to the sound of the neighbor locking and unlocking their car door. This they do every morning and it is almost as annoying as listening to a car alarm, because it still jolts you out of a deep sleep. This morning however, I was grateful. I checked the alarm on my phone to see why it didn't go off. Can you say PM? I mean how much more cliche can I get here? Am I on an episode of Seinfeld? First no volume, then the dreaded AM/PM switch? Yikes.

Well, I was up, showered and out the door by 7:08 and arrived at the lab at 7:20. There was a woman in front of me but I figured my blood would be drawn and the drink drank by 7:30, out the door by 8:35 with enough time to stop home, kiss the Ladies, give a few instructions to the sitter, grab my coffee and be at work by 9.

I sat down and pulled out the iPad. Oh, Scrabble, with your crazy words that don't make any sense while there are plenty of words that I know are in a dictionary, just not the Scrabble dictionary that should be perfectly acceptable and are part of the English language, which you ignore and/or deem non-existent, I am a bit addicted to you.

Well thank goodness I grabbed not only the iPad but a book as well. I am not sure I could have endured the 40 minutes it took the woman behind the counter to figure out the handwriting on the form so that she could perform the correct tests on the woman in front of me, while all the while listening to the beeping of the door as client after client came in to be stuck with a needle. When the woman finally went into the little room in the back it was 5 to 8. Her actual blood draw took about 3 minutes.

First blood draw: 8:01 am. Ugh.

Back out to the lobby to wait. In the following 15 minutes almost everyone else who was waiting was taken in, poked, prodded and headed out to meet their day. I did feel grateful for another preggo lady sitting beside me, at least I wasn't the only one who had to stay there for a while.

I was also grateful that I brought that book. After kicking the computer's ass a few times on Scrabble (so what if I sometimes use the Best Word option? I mean that is what it is there for and it teaches me new words, and really who among us couldn't stand to learn a new word or two--we live in an society where everything is shortened and abbreviated ttyl, lol, byb, gfy, etc. it is nice to learn an archaic word that will probably never come up in regular conversation but that can score you a shit-load of points on Scrabble), I took out the book and hoped the hour was almost to a close.

Second blood draw: 9:05 am--left arm, apparently not the arm to draw blood, I am pretty sure I heard air escaping from the needle after she poked around for a minute and didn't find a vein. 9:06 am--right arm, apparently the "good arm" and also the arm that had already been used.

9:20: Stopped at Dunkies for an iced coffee and a not very good multi grain bagel. I should have just gotten a donut. Dunkies, I love you--but your bagels suck.

9:30: Finally made it to work.

Present moment: Debating on weather or not to strip off these bandages on both arms. Why can't they just use band aids? Why do they have to use real tape that totally sticks to your arms? They might as well use duct tape, I mean it basically comes off in the same fashion.

Hopefully, all the time wasted was worth it and the tests come back negative. I guess I can be grateful for the few chapters I actually got to read and I did get a bingo in Scrabble on a triple word space (all by myself thanks, sometimes I just throw words up there hoping they work) who knew you could spell itemize with an s?

Top Mom? Why Yes, I am.

2011-03-03T15:52:00.000-05:00

So the Little Lady seems to be readjusting to life with her father at home. I haven't had anymore odd "Daddy?" sightings, but last week while she and I were perusing the pages of US Weekly, she pointed to this picture of Top Chef's Padma Lakshmi, who was wearing a bikini and looking pretty good (and by pretty good, I mean amazing) for a mom of a 1-year-old and said "Mommy?"

And do you know what I said?

"Yes, that's mommy." I mean she has long dark hair and was wearing big black sunglasses, I think it was a mistake anyone could have made.

It also made me realize that to our kids, on some days we are a former model/Reality TV host with a super hot bod and a love for food and dramatic dismissals of chefs and on other days we are 12-year old Asian boys with bad teeth.

So I guess the question is, which one are you today?

Beach Babes

2011-02-22T10:56:00.004-05:00

The Ladies and I were very excited to have a beach weekend. Even though the temperature dropped 25 degrees from Friday to Saturday and we didn't get a chance to spend anytime outside or make it anywhere near the beach, we had some serious quality time with the cousins, in what promises to be a preview of this summer. However, come July there will be two more cousins added to this crew, so hopefully there will be a ton of sunshine so that these kids can get outside and run.

Here are some pics of the usual suspects.

The Lady

Bunny

The Big Guy and the Little Ladies

I think the shirt says who this is

The Mad Man

Some Sweet September Ladies

The Wild Woman

The Wild Man

The Big Guy

Who doesn't like Twizzlers before bed?

The Little Ladies like them.

The Lady and the Wild Man

O' Big Daddy Where Art Thou?

2011-02-17T11:10:00.001-05:00

The Little Lady is missing her dad. I know this because she keeps on pointing out random men with dark hair and questioning their paternity.

Now, I will preface this by saying that she easily picks her father out in photographs and that I just took her for her 18 month check-up and her eyesight is fine, but the other day she saw a picture of Adam Sandler, pointed to him and said "Daddy?"

I love Adam Sandler, and while he is definitely much funnier than my husband, he is certainly not as attractive.

Yesterday, in Dunkies she pointed to a small Hispanic man with his black hair totally gelled back, wearing dark sunglasses and once again said "Daddy?"

Quite possibly the most bizarre "daddy sighting" occurred in the doctor's office while we were waiting for the nurse to come in. Our Pediatrician's office has black and white photos of kids taken by a local photographer hanging in each room. In our room was a photo of three Asian kids, I would say their approximate ages were 12, 10 and 8. The oldest boy had a mouth full of braces and a super big grin on his face. She pointed to him immediately and said "Daddy?"

Really? Really Little Lady? That is a twelve-year old Asian boy with what looks like the start of years of orthodontia work, and while I know your dad also spent years in braces (and probably should have worn his retainer more) it is clearly not your father.

I do feel bad for her though. The other night my husband called to say goodnight to her, and in what was possibly the sweetest thing ever, sang her "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" over the phone. Once he got off the phone she started crying for him. I had to give her a photo of him to keep with her in her bed. I had to give it to her again this morning when she woke up because there is nothing worse than her disappointment when I bring her into my room for a little Elmo time and she doesn't see him sleeping in the bed.

We are counting down the days. . .

The Little Lady at 18 Months

2011-02-15T13:07:00.000-05:00

As promised a pic of the Little Lady wearing a chocolate chip. She is also wearing a tutu.

The Little Lady dressed herself. She is wearing a Spring skort and t-shirt over her Elmo t-shirt and a pair of Valentine pants. Apparently, I am not the only one waiting for Spring to come. Note the peanut M&M in her hand. I am pretty sure you can find a few bad parenting decisions going on in these photos. See below.

Probably shouldn't have let her play with scissors. . .

Kids at Play

2011-02-15T10:36:00.000-05:00

Here are a few shots of the Ladies playing with the Wild Ones at an indoor playspace. Try not to think about the amount of germs in the ball pit.

The Wild Woman

The Lady loves the Mermaid pose. Note the handcrafted necklace she made at Dad's Morning Out!

The Little Lady, moments before scratching the Wild Woman in the face, minutes before we decided it was time to leave!

The Wild Man at rest!

It's Been a While. . .

2011-02-15T10:29:00.000-05:00

I know all of you have missed my annual Groundhog's Day rant and my endless droning on about how much I hate winter. This year, you have been spared, at least until the next snow storm hits and I am once again drowning in the grey of the season.

For now, I am just going to focus on the things that are going well, since quite honestly, I am hanging on by a thread here.

So, I hope everyone enjoyed Valentine's Day, the hubby is away so the Ladies and I celebrated by eating a lot of strawberries and Hershey kisses. Today, is the V-Day party at Lady's school and she was very excited to write her name on each little Valentine as well as wear her fancy sparkle tights. We are back on a dress only kick, which is fine, except that there are no fall/winter dresses left on the shelves out there and we have been wearing one of three dresses to school pretty much everyday. On the positive side, at least she is getting dressed in the morning.

However, next year we are going to be in afternoon nursery school. I feel like we have been demoted to JV. Perhaps, it will help with our time-management issues in the morning, but it is going to be a huge pain in the ass in terms of drop-off and pick-up, especially on the days that I am working. I was hoping that my husband would be able to drop her off in the mornings that I didn't work, so that I didn't have to pack all three kids into the car--looks like that isn't going to happen. I am thinking about hiring a driver. How much do you think that would cost?

The Little Lady turned 18 months old yesterday. I will post a few pics of the V-Day celebration included a shot of her wearing a melted chocolate chip on her face. Good times.

We are off to the beach house this weekend to hang with some cousins and to give the kids a chance to run. Hoping for a little sunshine and that I don't have to listen to "Max and Ruby" in the car on the ride up. Would it be bad parenting if I snapped that DVD in half? Probably.What if I didn't do it in front of the kids? Advice would be greatly appreciated!

When All the Pharmacy Doles Out is Pain

2011-01-25T14:03:00.002-05:00

Yesterday started out pretty well. Well, it was sunny and both the Ladies slept until after 8 am. I guess when you are given that gift of a few extra minutes of sleep that it has to be balanced out by a time-suck that not only thoroughly wastes your time and energy but leaves you wishing that the kids got up at 5am and you never had to venture out of the house.

The Little Lady has a cough. It started to sound more like a bark. My plan was to bring her to the walk-in hour at the pediatrician, but since she slept through that hour, I called them at 9:15. I could take her in at 10. I have been pretty lucky with both the Ladies and we haven't had too many sick visits. We have had a few trips where I brought the Lady in and they were basically like "Thanks for your co-pay there is nothing we can do for you." So, unless there seems to be a change in their symptoms or their behavior that is pretty apparent I am not one to rush to the ped, but I had a feeling that the Little Lady's cough was more than just a cold.

In another small victory that should have foreshadowed the eventual swing of the pendulum, I was able to get the Lady dressed and ready to go with minimal opposition. Granted this included allowing her to put on some eye-makeup and rummage through my jewelry box, but after I was able to wipe off the mascara from her nose and pry the baby blue Tiffany's bags out of her hands, we were good to go.

We got to the Dr. on time. The Ladies were well behaved both in the waiting room and in the examination room. The Little Lady has some sort of viral infection that moved to her lungs. Bronchiosaurus (or something like that--we have been watching a lot of Dino Dan at both our house and the Wild Man's. I am glad the Lady has an interest in dinosaurs and not just Princesses but the kid on the show is super annoying and kind of a know-it-all and my head is clogged up with a ton of dinosaur names.) Anyway, the only treatment for the bronchiosaurs is albuterol, which is an asthma medication. So we hooked up the Little Lady to a nebulizer and hoped for the best. The Lady covered her ears because it was too loud, and although initially receptive to the device, the Little Lady disconnected the tubing twice from the mouthpiece and I ended up wrestling with her for the final 5 minutes of the treatment. Overall though, it wasn't that bad of a visit. We ended up raiding their supply of stickers, made an appointment for a recheck next week and were in the car, with our own rental nebulizer, to pick up the prescription at 11 am.

I hate inefficiency. Also, did I mention it was 11 degrees outside? Luckily, I was able to get a parking spot in front of the pharmacy. I put the Little Lady in the stroller and we all piled out into the freeze. I made my way to the counter at the pharmacy and they said they didn't have the prescription in yet. No worries I thought, we just left the Dr's. office, we will hit the Carters next door and check out the clothes. I picked up a cute dress for the Lady for $7.99 and after letting her run around the store for about 10-15 minutes we went back to the pharmacy and waited online. Still no prescription. The Ladies were getting restless. It was then that I realized that part of the reason we were able to get out of the house on time was that neither one of them had any breakfast. I rummaged through my bag and found a bag of fruit snacks for them to share. The Lady, however had eyed the candy counter and had focused in on the Skittles. The nagging began soon after that.

Here is where I started to lose it. The pharmacy assistant was less than helpful and kind of had an attitude. She told me the pharmacist was checking the messages on the phone. OK, but the Dr. said she was going to fax it in. The Lady has the Skittles in her hand, then she put the package in her mouth. The Little Lady wanted out of the stroller. This was pretty easy to do, since she was only strapped in on one side due to the fact that she was wearing 500 layers and I couldn't close the straps. She ended up on her back on the floor crying. The Lady decided to stand on the thin ledge beneath the candy display, she too ended up on the floor, crying. I made my way down the aisle towards the front door, the Little Lady in one arm, pushing the stroller with the other and trying to convince the Lady that she was not getting any Skittles until after we ate something healthy for breakfast. And it was clearly time for something to eat. I decided that I wasn't going to open a box of Pop Tarts from Aisle 1 but instead hit the Starbucks on the other side of the strip mall, because we had a gift card and I knew they had yogurt. Before we left though, I let the pharmacists assistant know I would call the Dr. and see where the script was.

We hit Starbucks and I spent a good $25 off the gift card on an egg sandwich and some healthy snacks that they both devoured, we ventured back out into the cold and once again found ourselves at the pharmacy counter. The assistant who had been helping us earlier was no longer there. This, I like to think was a minor victory. The prescription was ready for the Little Lady, thank goodness. I also had to pick up my prescription of prenatal vitamins. After hunting it down, she handed me the bag and told me it was $94. Yes, $94 for vitamins. I handed her my special coupon card that the ob/gyn had gave me and she informed me that they were now $74. I informed her that the last time I filled this prescription, I paid $11.54 and I wasn't paying more than that now. I then realized that our pharmacy coverage had changed. I should have remembered that since I spent over a half an hour at the same pharmacy a week earlier trying to get a prescription for my husband. Luckily, this woman was actually helpful, she checked the computer and was able to not only give me the vitamins for $11.54 but did it in a pleasant way that made me not one to jump over the counter and knock off each individual pill container from the lines and lines of shelving behind her. Oh, she also rang up the bag of Skittles for the Lady and a bag of plain M&M's for the Little Lady. The time was12:35 pm.

We made two more quick stops at the bank and the post office. The Lady ate the entire bag of Skittles and the Little Lady passed out in her carseat. I'd like to say that this was the end of it, but after putting the Little Lady into her bed, I had to go back out to the car and get the nebulizer, the new dress, my purse and the bag of medicine. The Lady insisted on going with me, then insisted that I carry her up the stairs. It is really hard to explain to a 3-year old that you can't carry them up the stairs because they weigh too much and your hands are full of bags and you are carrying another baby in your belly. It is also hard to explain to them that they should walk up carrying their sippy cup that has been in the car since Saturday, when clearly they only want to be held. After a few minutes of whining and yelling (on the Lady's part), I walked up the stairs to let her have her little tantrum. I checked a few e-mails and called my sister to bitch about the happenings of the previous 3 hours. When I went to the top of the stairs to check on her, the Lady was laying on the bottom landing, up against the first stair, on a wet, dirty doormat in her jacket and hat, fast asleep. I gave her a few moments then went down to retrieve her. Yes, I was well aware that in the end she got her way, and I had to carry her up the stairs. Unfortunately she woke up soon after, yelled for a little while that she wanted to sleep on the bottom of the stairs and then got herself undressed, wrapped herself up in her nonnies, snuggled comfortably on the couch, while I fantasized about winning the PowerBall, having a house with an attached garage, a pharmacy with drive-thru service and children who listen.

Here is a photo of the Little Lady on the nebulizer. Three seconds after this photo was taken she didn't look so content.

BEANPWR

2011-01-11T11:02:00.000-05:00

I like to think that each day offers its challenges and successes. I mean there has to be a little bit of a payoff for enduring poo foot and temper tantrums right?

I also like to think that sometimes you find a little bit of clarity in a place you would never expect. Yesterday, as I was driving home from my sister-in-law's where the Lady got to hang with Ironman and the Little Lady tried very hard to play the role of the big sister to my newborn niece (this included trying to shove the baby's pacifier into her mouth on numerous occasions, when it was quite clear that the babes was not interested), with both Ladies sleeping in the backseat, the DVD player not spewing Strawberry Shortcake dialogue (really, how many times can you use the word "berry" in place of "very?" talk about overkill), the radio off, on a two lane highway on the back roads of Connecticut, I pulled up behind a white VW bug (a new one) with the licence plate that read CATPWR.

CATPWR. In that one moment, I thought to myself "Bean, your life isn't that bad--go home, give your husband a 5, nay a 10-second frencher, be grateful for your children and the things you have in your life and be happy that your aren't driving around in a car advertising your love and the powerful nature of felines. Live the life you've imagined."

So, even though when I went upstairs to check on the Ladies last night and found a pile of crayons that had been peeled of their wrappers and a crayon mural on the wall above the Ladies' bed, and even though we were late again to school today, I realized that this is the life I chose. With all my bellyaching and complaining, I am glad to be driving around in a station wagon, littered with a few toys and a couple pairs of the Little Ladies shoes. I am pretty sure I won't be hitting the DMV anytime soon for a personalized license plate that reads BEANPWR, but there are those very small moments of quiet--on a side street covered in snow, or listening to the Ladies sleep where I am reminded of what I have in life--where it seems like a really good idea.

We're Late, we're late. . .

2011-01-06T15:01:00.001-05:00

We need a better morning routine. I am not a morning person and because of that I think my children aren’t quite morning people either. Now, this doesn’t mean that they don’t get up early; it just means that we like to ease our way into the day.

When the Ladies wake up, they come down stairs, we have some milk, and we cuddle on the couch. I will admit the TV goes on and that there is no real sense of urgency to getting up and getting out.

This has started to cause a problem, especially on the days that the Lady has school and that I have to work. I just like to take a few extra minutes under the covers instead of jumping in the shower or starting the morning rush. The Little Lady will cuddle up right next to me with her little nonnies, I mean really who wants to give that time up? But then I look at the clock and I curse myself, because now we only have 35 minutes for both my husband and I to shower, to feed the girls and to get the Lady dressed. This causes more problems than most since she has a tendency to spend most of her day “nudie,” and drags her feet on all things clothing related.

We have tried laying out clothes the night before, but that doesn’t guarantee that will be the outfit that she actually wears, so I never know if it will take us an extra 10 minutes to get out of the house because the pink pants that were fine the night before have suddenly become unacceptable in the cold harsh reality of daylight. We have also tried to make getting dressed a contest. But recently when I tried this approach she just told me that I was already almost dressed and she didn’t want to be faster than anyone. Can you say backfire?

I have tried letting the Lady choose from two options, I was told this was a good way to let kids feel like they are in control, often this just leads to her flat out rejecting both outfits and leads to a bit more yelling and frustration on my part then I’d like to admit.

So this year my only New Year’s resolution was to make it to the Lady’s school on time. This means getting her into the classroom, hands washed (as required) and signed in. We did great on Tuesday, okay on Wednesday (even with having to bring the Little Lady, who also insisted on washing her hands) but by Thursday our first week spiraled into disaster. Not only were we ten minutes late, but now the State requires that parents mark down the time that we arrive, so staring back at me in a cold, graphite-grey pencil mark was proof of our tardiness. Oh, 9:10 why do you mock me so?

Now, I have to admit, we are certainly not the last people walking into the school and I have seen many people driving in when I am driving out, but I have very clear memories of waiting around for my mother to pick me up from things when I was little and I don’t want my kids to feel like we are always running late or that I am not going to get them somewhere on time.

So how do I change this? I know I am going to have to bite the bullet and actually wake up earlier than my children. This is a foreign concept to me. The Ladies are pretty good sleepers and a 7:30 wake up time is by no means shabby, but am I supposed to get myself up at 7 just so I can be ready to tackle the day before they get up? The answer seems fairly obvious. But really one of the benefits of having kids is that I don’t need an alarm clock. I have the same clock radio by my bed that I used in college, but I haven’t actually had to use the radio/alarm part of it in over three years. I am pretty sure that you can’t even get a radio station on that thing and really who wants to wake up to some harsh alarm buzz? Now, in order to get my act together, I am going to have to set that thing for 7 or maybe 7:05 or 7:10 and hope that because I take the time to get myself ready first that we can be in the car on our way to school by ten to 9, outfits approved, jackets zipped, totally on time.

I am not sure what I am going to do when these kids have to be on a bus before 8am or in a classroom at 7:40 in the morning, but I think I have a little bit of time before we get there. Perhaps there is no need to rush things? I mean it is really comfy under the covers.

I am the Bowl

2011-01-04T20:16:00.001-05:00

I just want to thank you all for your kind words and well wishes. We are very excited to be having this baby and I am sure the next few months and beyond will be both a learning--and like the addition of any child into your home--a life-changing experience.

I just want to add two quick addendum's to my previous post. After discussing it briefly with my husband, who didn't read it but still feels the need to give me advice about what I write, I realize that I should be the bowl in the three bean salad and not him. Now, I did come to this realization after he said something along the lines of "Why do I have to be the bowl, you should be the bowl you carry everyone?" and then I realized he was absolutely right. I am the bowl. I am the vessel. It is just more literary. This of course makes him the vinaigrette, which will now be referred to as the "dressing" since he doesn't like vinaigrette and prefers the thicker, creamier high-fat versions of dressing, which I think he should drink directly from the bottle, considering that lettuce is only a means for getting it into his body.

I also want to point out that I will be happy with this kid no matter what its sex. If it is another Little Lady, so be it, I know Little Ladies. If it is a boy, well bring it on, and in all seriousness I probably would post two or three blogs a week about his penis. They are just weird.

On The Three Bean Salad

2011-01-04T14:26:00.000-05:00

When I first articulated the idea aloud that I wanted to start a blog, I was sitting on the beach in August 2008, trying to come up with a name. I had already formulated the first three or four posts in my head so it was just a matter of finding a title and getting started.

I was aware of the idea of "branding" or "marketing" myself and I had seen a ton of mom-focused blogs out there with clever mom-centric names like Popping Pampers and Prozac, or Parentopia or PoshMomma or MommaBytes or something that screams parenting and most importantly being a mother, but let's be honest here, I knew I wasn't going to make money off this blog and I wasn't 100% interested in writing solely about motherhood and parenthood.

So, since I have been called Bean by family and friends from the time I was little, I decided to use that in the title. Granted, I did mull over MommaBean and, Bean, Beers and Babies, but ultimately settled on TheThreeBeanSalad for a few reasons. The first was because it didn't scream MOM-BLOG, however I was a little worried it would be misinterpreted as a recipe site for barbecue enthusiasts. The second reason was because for me three bean salad actually had a childhood memory associated with it, we always had it for our Fourth of July get-together and it captured that simplicity of childhood, the act of pouring three cans of beans and some dressing in a yellow bowl and making it part of a meal. In keeping with that line of thinking I realized that a three bean salad can be a barbecue staple, something dependable, easy to make, a mixture of any beans you have on hand, shook up and seasoned, it is simple and standard and although it might make you a bit gassy, you always know what you are going to get. I hoped that this blog could be a reflection of that. I decided to go with it.

Later, after I had created my blog and started posting, I realized that the Three Bean could describe my new family, my husband, the Lady and myself. We too, were a mixture thrown together and shook up and what came out of it was our everyday adventures that are essentially the fabric of this blog. When the Little Lady was born, I kicked my husband out of the salad, well I guess I regulated him to the vinaigrette dressing. He plays a less substantive role in this blog, but in truth, without him we would just have a bowl of beans and no flavor. He keeps us together and is an integral part of all of our lives.

Now, I think the real reason for this title is actually revealing itself to me. Come June we will have one more bean to add to this salad and the title of this blog will actually reflect not only all those things listed above, but the actual number of kids I will have. And in order to keep us all a part of this metaphor, perhaps I will make myself the vinaigrette and my husband can now be the bowl that keeps us together. If you are rereading the above sentence just to make sure, let me be perfectly clear: baby number three in June.

If you are wondering why it took me 18 weeks to reveal this to you it is because I had a hard time adjusting to the idea. While, I have always wanted three kids, this just happened sooner than expected and because of it, all those big goals I want to accomplish for me and my family have become much more urgent and can no longer be ignored. There is no way there will be five of us living in a 1020 sq. ft. condo. I know babies are small, but they grow and if you have a three-year old who runs as much as mine does, you know that any small, confined space can be an issue. You have read here before about my inability to figure out the logistics of parenthood, and with the addition of one more child that is amplified for me. I probably haven't been blogging as much lately, because a lot of what I have been thinking/feeling has been wrapped up in this pregnancy news and until I was able to tell the world, I wasn't able to be 100% honest with my readers, and for that I do apologize.

I will say you missed out on a lot of posts of me just complaining that I felt like throwing up everyday and that dry-heaving was my enemy. You also missed out on a post about how much weight I have already gained and that for those two weeks when my husband was gone when I felt like complete poo thanks to a cold, I couldn't take any medicine to knock me out. So basically, you were probably spared the first-trimester pity party, which was probably best for all of us. But now you know. Now the ThreeBean will truly be about my three little beans, and I appreciate you taking the time to read all about us.

Oh, on a side note, since everyone I tell thinks this will be baby girl number three (no, we are NOT finding out), send me any good girl names you might have. I am at a loss. If it is a girl, I thought I would refer to her here, in a totally unoriginal way as the Littlest Lady, but then I decided that perhaps the Last Lady would be more appropriate, because I am pretty sure this is it for us. I do think I would shorten it to LL because, well that just sounds cooler and will be easier to type. If it is a boy, his name on this blog will be based on personality and initial impression, and don't worry, even though I have a rudimentary understanding of the penis (this is my third pregnancy) I am totally unsure of what to do with those little balls and will be sure to post about it ad nauseam.

Happy New Year

2011-01-04T11:11:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year to everyone!

I have decided not to make any resolutions this year, but instead I am going to try to focus on some of the bigger goals in my life that I have either long been avoiding or are in serious need of attention. This means not just personal growth and concentrating on me (why, yes, I have been watching some of Oprah's OWN Network coverage for the past three days) but also on the bigger goals that affect my family and hopefully will add to our overall well-being and happiness.

We have some big goals that mean big changes, so stay tuned. . .

Holiday Pics

2010-12-29T20:36:00.000-05:00

The Lady at her concert. Note the bar behind them, about ten minutes after this was taken, as they were all sitting down, the Lady slammed her head on it and spent the rest of the concert singing the songs from her father's lap.

The Lady, The Little Lady and the Big Guy after their sleepover.

Decorating the tree. I made her put this robe on so that I could have some photos of her clothed.

The Little Lady loves to decorate.

The angel on top of our tree.

In Brooklyn for our playdate. Have to love the 6 ladies and one little man!

The Night Before Christmas. I couldn't resist, I mean really, look at the Little Lady's face

Santa brings the Lelli Kellys!!!

Iron man and the Lady at my in-laws.

Happy Third Birthday Wild Man!

Seriously Little Lady? I spent 10 minutes opening that box so you could play with the Little People inside and instead you feel the need to actually play inside the box?

Snowed In!

Happy Birthday To the Wild Man!

2010-12-26T21:33:00.000-05:00

Just want to wish the Wild Man a very Happy Birthday! I hope that he is enjoying all his new toys and not driving his parents crazy as we all bunker down in this blizzard!

Love you Wild Man!

Ringing O' the Bells

2010-12-16T10:19:00.000-05:00

Waiting very patiently to leave the office to see the Lady at her Bell Ringing Christmas Concert. Can't wait to see her perform all the songs I have heard her singing for the past couple of weeks.

The best part. . . the hubby will be there to meet me!!! Finally, the Toy has come back to Connecticut.

I will say the school thinks of everything, they had print outs of the church hanging in the hallways so you could see what side your kids class would be performing on and where you should sit. Will try to post a pic later today, not sure how good it will be considering the Lady had to get a bath this morning and her hair was totally matted down from her hat when we got to school. Why can't we just get it together? On a positive note, she is clean and she is wearing clean undies. That is a win-win in my book.

Don't have to come back to work after the show, the office is having some sort of kick-ball tournament/Holiday party today. Guess the Ladies and I will hang while my husband naps. He has two hours, two hours, and then I am leaving the house until bedtime. Missed that guy.

Thank You. Thank You.

2010-12-14T15:39:00.000-05:00

Just wanted to thank all my friends and family who have helped me out this past week or so, or who have offered a word or two of support.

I am incredibly grateful for the sleepover invite from the Wild Man and the Wild Woman. Although everyone went to bed a little too late, and the Little Ladies woke up entirely too early, and the big kids got a little bit overexcited with the Christmas crafts (you should have seen the gingerbread train--it was covered in candy and by no means would be edible after the Lady was licking the peppermints before sticking them into the frosting), we had a great time and it was a good way to end the week.

We also had a sleepover at our house and the added benefit of attending a Christmas Party. Many thanks to my cousin for coming and staying with us. I was super excited the kids got along and was even more excited that we got a chance to catch-up.

Many more thanks to my SIL for coming over two Sunday's in a row and watching the Ladies so I could run out to the store. As an added bonus she helped clean up, which is always a plus and this was after the Ladies found a bottle of baby powder in the beach bag in the closet and doused themselves with it.

I think the festivities wore out the Ladies and for the past two nights they have both been in bed and sleeping before their usual bedtimes, leaving me with an actual hour or two to myself. So thank you, my beautiful Ladies. Although, last night the Lady woke up at 2:30 in the morning and ended up in my bed where she tossed and turned for a while and where I am pretty sure she asked me to cut her toenail at 3:40am. I wasn't sure if I was dreaming it, but this morning there was a pair of clippers on my bedside table.

Two more nights and my husband is home. I am booking my spa day for Saturday, then we have an adult-only Christmas cocktail party that night, then we are heading out to Brooklyn so see some friends. Things, my friends seem to be looking up. Now if I can only get all my Christmas shopping done. . .

Happy Birthday to My Brother!

2010-12-08T10:25:00.000-05:00

Love you Ea! Hope you have a great day.

BTW. . . this photo is saved under the title "whyeaissoweird"

Another Day Down?

2010-12-08T10:17:00.001-05:00

Dear Disney, um wait, that was another letter, another time when the weather was warm and the Ladies were distracted daily by princesses and cupcakes and fairy dreams. Let's begin again.

Dear Reality,

Why are you hitting me so hard? It is only Day 5 and I feel like it should be Day 15. Things have happened here that could make a quasi-sane mother of two pack up the car, drive to California, drop the Ladies off on the hallowed greens of Pebble Beach, get back in the car and hit Vegas hard.

I think the only thing that is keeping me going is those few seconds every morning that the Lady opens up another door on her Advent Calender and I know that I am one day closer to my husband walking up those f'ing stairs. To be honest, my everyday schedule isn't that different from when he is home. I still work two days, I still hang with the Ladies on the others. It is just those moments at night when the day is clearly done and I am clearly done and the Ladies are clearly not done that are making me throw myself a pity party and have made me, literally cry.

It might be easier if I didn't feel like crap. If my nose wasn't stuffed up and I wasn't going through tissue after tissue. It might be easier if the Little Lady felt better. It might be easier if the Lady would just go to sleep in her own bed.

Oh, reality. Why? Why? Why?

Why have you shown me great days (oh, Day 2 how far away you seem) and terrible days (Um, Day 4 we are in a huge fight) like some ghost of Christmas Past? Why have you made is so abundantly clear that I do not have it together and that these Ladies can cause a reckoning?

Here is a quick (sort of--if I put everything is this would be a two hour therapy session) recap of our last few days:

Day 2: Dropped off the Little Lady with my mom and the Wild Woman and hopped on a train to NYC in our sparkle shoes. Met up with my best friend and the Lady's best friend and were charmed by the wonder of Mary Poppins. Not so charmed by the guy behind me who picked up his cell phone in the middle of it or by the fact that the Lady felt it necessary to sit on my lap the entire time, but it was super cool when Mary Poppins flew right over our seats (I could see her bloomers!) We made our way out of the theatre past block long lines at Toys R Us and the Disney Store and through what was quite possibly the biggest crowd I have ever been a part of to get a glimpse at a tree. We headed back on the train and I ended our day, carrying two bundled up Ladies up the stairs.

Day 3: My SIL came by in the morning and watched the Ladies while I went food shopping. I was so drunk with the freedom of that hour and fifteen minutes that I decided to pick up a hot chocolate on the way home. I went to the Dunkies drive in, took my money out of my wallet and proceeded to drive right past the little speaker. Clearly, my mommy-mind was melting. That night the Lady informed me that she did not want to sleep in her bed. Instead of having her throw a tantrum in her room and risk waking up the Little Lady, I let her lay on the couch. She wanted all the lights off. Normally, this wouldn't be too big of a deal, except the place was wrecked, and I had work to do, which the Lady informed me I could do by our electric candles and the light from the computer. When her father finally called a little after eight. I was on the edge. When the Lady started crying and telling her dad that she missed him and wanted him to come home, I started crying. She also informed him that she didn't want to sleep in her bed because there were alligators and a snake scratched her leg. Needless to say, the work was put away and I retired to my room at 8:15.

Day 4: Oh Dark Day. This day actually started out ok. I realized that I had a Moms Club meeting, which meant the girls had a playdate, I had some adult conversation time, hot beverages and a nice snack. After the meeting we went to the Lady's school to pick up our Christmas wreath and they served some hot cider. So far so good. . . The Little Lady feel asleep in the car and transferred well into her bed. The Lady had some independent play time and I got some work done. All was well at 1:00. We were looking forward to the pj and pizza Santa sing-along party that evening at 5:00 and getting a chance to meet Santa. What I was ill-prepared for was the Little Lady taking a tumble down 13 stairs. There is nothing, nothing, like the sound of your one-year-old falling down a wood staircase to make you run faster then you probably ever have before. She was crying, I was crying. Things could have been so much worse. After a quick once-over, I realized she was more scared then hurt. She was crying, breathing and nothing seemed bruised or broken. Yes, this was totally my fault. I shouldn't have left them alone upstairs why I went down to get them something to drink. The gate was up, but the gate isn't that great and the Little Lady can get over it if she really tries. She also thinks she can walk down stairs. Ugh. So, with a great deal of mommy guilt, I watched over her for the rest of the night. She was dancing and moving at the Santa sing-along, she wasn't acting off or odd in anyway. This however, didn't stop me from worrying about her, so when I heard her stir at 3 am, I decided she should come down and sleep with me. You know what they say about waking a sleeping baby? It still applies when they are one. The Little Lady could not get comfortable, she would pop up every 10 minutes or so, point at the TV and say "Melmo." She was at various points sleeping next to me, on top of me, in my armpit and across my face. At 4:50 I decided that I had enough and that she probably had too. Back to her bed she went until 7 am, when I heard her little voice call my name. Don't even get me started on the Lady and her bedtime issues. . .

Day 5: Is it bad that I am happy to be at work?

So Realty, please try to go easy on me for the next week or so, I am not feeling great, I am already consumed by guilt and there have been two nights of freezing cold weather when I had to get both Ladies into the house.

Just give me a pass today, and maybe tomorrow. Help me to remember that if he could be home, my husband would be (well, maybe just home sooner) and that these Ladies and I can make do with each other. Let's just avoid any more stair incidents and let's try to limit the temper tantrums.

Love and kisses,

Bean

Day One is Done

2010-12-03T20:20:00.000-05:00

The Ladies are in bed. Neither one of them is actually sleeping, but they are in bed.

I am going to sweep the floor for the six hundredth time today and cuddle up with the DVR--can anyone say "Top Chef-All Stars?" Awesome.

Tomorrow we have plans so hopefully the day will go well. Today we had some minor incidents, nothing out of the ordinary. A few markers up the nose, a bumped head and the Lady rifling through the box of clothes that is going to be donated and insisting that her princess sneakers still fit. We brought in some Christmas decorations and I actually got a little bit of cleaning and organizing done. One good thing was that we didn't have anywhere to go, so I didn't have to bundle up the Ladies and drag them out. One bad thing was that we didn't have anyplace to go, so the Ladies and I were inside all day long.

So we have marked one day off the calendar. At this point next week, I might be a very different person but until then I say "Day two, bring it on."

The Countdown has Begun. . .

2010-12-02T10:53:00.000-05:00

Officially, my husband doesn't leave for California until 4:45am tomorrow morning. I have begun the countdown today because between the packing he still has to do, the errands that I would like to run before he leaves and the fact that when I wake up tomorrow morning (actually when I re-wake up tomorrow morning after he turns on lights and clomps around at 4am in his heavy shoes) he will be gone and I will be left alone with the Ladies.

It will be a cold day in Connecticut, a cold day.

As much as I will miss his company and just having him around, what really makes me dread this trip is that I am shorthanded. The mornings are already a mess and the Lady only wants her daddy. I am incapable and unwilling to carry both of those girls at a combined weight of around 55lbs down the stairs together in the morning draped with all their blankets and nonnies. Someone is always going to be left out. It is really the logistics of parenting that gets to me. I can handle the discipline, the pee on the bathroom floor, the diapers, the snot noses rubbing against my legs. I can handle the tantrums and the food ground into the couch and the general care of my children, but I can't handle the ins and outs of getting them to and from places in a way that is easy and stress-free.

I know I am going to want to get out of the house and plan activities for the three of us to do, but the thought of coming home on dark, cold winter nights, with the two of them heavy in their bulky jackets, the Little Lady probably wearing no shoes and socks because she insists on taking them off in the car, the Lady demanding to be carried, the house keys shoved somewhere deep in the recesses of the diaper bag, the thought it chills me to the bone. It chills me to the bone.

We do have friends and family we can rely on and I have made an effort to plan some things out. We have a few Holiday events that we can go to and I am hoping to do some Christmas decorating and crafts with both of the girls. I will have to make sure the Little Lady doesn't eat the art supplies but I think that we can do some great stuff together. It is just nice to have a little break every now and again. I know that when I crawl into bed at night, I will have control of the remote. Oh, Bones how nice it will be to watch you without any snide comments from my other half, but even the thought of my own personal TV time, doesn't do much when I know in a few short hours I will be summoned by the Ladies to carry them both down the stairs. I will battle with the Lady over getting bathed and dressed and in the car to school. I will have to "assist" the Little Lady in her attempt to walk down the stairs by herself, when clearly she is unable to do so, but thinks that she can and try to reel her in from her multiple excursions into the bathroom where she climbs on the stool, flushes the toilet and touches everything in a way that makes my skin crawl.

So the countdown has begun. . . stay tuned.

Sparkle Shoes

2010-12-02T10:24:00.000-05:00

Sparkle shoes as promised.

The Lady has the exact same pair of these shoes in pink. She wore them exactly one time and that was in the car on the way home from Target. She never wore them again. They are now one size too small. The good news is that she has been wearing the silver sparkle shoes pretty regularly since she got them. The bad news is that they are basically a shoe covered in glitter, so I have been stepping on, sweeping up and trying to remove those shiny little pieces from the floor, furniture and faces of the Ladies.

On Harry, Football, Freckles and Pooping in a Purse

2010-11-23T13:45:00.000-05:00

It has been a busy weekend. My brother-in-law is up with his family and I headed to the in-laws with the Ladies on Friday afternoon after ballet. It was great for the Ladies to get together with their Texas cousins and it was nice to spend some time with the family. We headed back home in an attempt to beat the traffic and to get cleaned up because Momma was going out!

I was able to get a sitter for Friday night and my husband and I joined my brother and sister-in-law for a little bit of Harry Potter. Considering that the last time I went to the movies was when the last Harry Potter movie came out, I was grateful just to leave the house. The movie turned out to be pretty good and I guess the next time I step into a theatre will be for the final Harry film.

Saturday was going to be either a really good day or a really bad day. It depended on two things: 1. How cold it got outside and 2. if the Irish could actually win a football game. As it turns out, Saturday was a lot of fun. I was excited to see a football game in Yankee Stadium, but was worried about being freezing. We dropped the Ladies off at my parents, layered up and took the train into the Bronx. We met up with friends and family and the temperature didn't drop too low. Granted, I was wearing running tights over jeans that were tucked into Uggs and sporting a puffer hoody jacket that made me feel more Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man than casual football fan, but it worked out. And even though I waited on quite possibly the longest line in the Stadium for a $4 hot chocolate it turned into a good evening.

The next morning we had to head back into the City for a play with the Lady. Her grandmother invited her, her cousin and my sister-in-law and I to see an adaptation of Julianne Moore's children's book "Freckleface Strawberry." The Lady got new sparkle shoes and sparkle tights. I wasn't sure how she was enjoying the play, considering she sat there stone faced during the entire performance, much like her Disney Princess experience, but in the end she told me she loved it, she got some strawberry lip balm and had a great time.

The Lady and her Cousin. Will post photo of sparkle shoes soon.

Oh, I forgot, I am pretty sure some of you were curious about the "Pooping in a Purse" portion of this blog title.

Anyway, as I was sitting in the left-field bleachers at Yankee Stadium on Saturday night, I saw that I had a missed call from my sister. Since the game hadn't started yet, I called her back. I could barely understand what she was saying, partially because the stadium was so loud, but also because she was laughing so hard. When I finally was able to decipher what she said, simply "The Wild Man pooped in the purse you gave me for your wedding," I was in tears. Apparently, the Wild Man and his sister were playing when I guess nature came calling. Rather than attempt a run to the toilet he just used what was handy. Luckily it was empty, unluckily, he gave the purse to his little sister who brought it into the kitchen to give to her parents. Oh, Wild Man you never cease to entertain me.

What You've Missed

2010-11-18T15:46:00.000-05:00

It's been a while and I am sorry. Here is a recap of the highs and the lows you have missed in the life of the Three Bean Salad.

I ran into the neighbor's garbage can (again) with my car. To be fair, 1. at least it wasn't their car and 2. it is left entirely too close to the common area of the driveway where I need to turn around.

The Little Lady has continued her love for all things bathroom related and has pooped on the potty by herself twice in the last couple of weeks. Her sister has been ignoring her body's signs to go to the bathroom and instead is just going through 5-15 pairs of "big girl undies" a day because she can't be bothered to get up and use the bathroom. In a exceptionally brilliant show of sheer determination and with a keen "fuck you mom" attitude, the Lady told me she didn't have to go to the bathroom, in what might have been a very weak moment in my three plus years of motherhood, I physically lifted her up on to the toilet and tried to keep her there. The Lady wanted none of this and as I tried to remove her little sister from the area, she told me that she didn't want to go on the potty and was going to go "right here." Right here meaning, right next to the toilet on the rug.

I went to the Lady's parent/teacher conference, where I had to sit in one of their chairs. It is true, they have no adult size chairs in the room. Even the teachers have to sit on those tiny little plastic chairs made for the small bottoms of 2-4 year old kids. Anyway, the teachers said that the Lady was great, good with her classmates, good with listening and that she never gave them a hard time. I demanded video proof. I am, however, very proud of her and this week they will be starting to use scissors.

I have cried every single time I have seen one of those commercials where the parents surprise their kids with a trip to Disney World.

I have started coaching a "Lil' Laxers" program for 2-5 year-olds on Wednesday afternoons. The Lady is not taking this class, instead, I am surrounded by all boys, who spit and swing sticks and are constantly drifting off into some never-never land of inattentiveness and coughing relentlessly without covering their mouths.

I was the mystery reader at the Lady's school. I showed up with some books, they all closed their eyes, and I "surprised" them. The Lady was very excited. In order to make sure I was on time. I sat in the parking lot for about 15 minutes where I was horrified to find a chin hair while I was looking in the mirror. It is bad enough with the adult acne, but I think facial hair is a bit much don't you? How much more can one woman bear? Now, at this school everyone drives a black Tahoe and wears either their workout clothes or super cute flats to pick up their kids, so I am a little self-conscious about how I look. Imagine my horror, when I realized that this wasn't even a tiny hair, but one that looked long enough to curl. I am clearly not paying enough attention to myself. Luckily, I was able to pull it free. When we left school, we stopped at the nail place to get a quick eyebrow wax. . .

. . .at lunch, after the "mystery reading" and the salon the Lady and I met my husband. When he arrived she quickly announced to him and the rest of the line at Panera that "mom got her eyes done!"

The Little Lady has become very interested in TV. She vocalizes her displeasure if you turn off whatever is on or if you turn the channel from something kid related to something more adult. Since, she is the first one up in the morning, my husband and I have been taking her into bed for some one-on-one snuggle time. She is super cute and it is nice to spend some solo time with her. However, some mornings we snuggle on the couch, where she climbs over me to find the remote and insists on pressing the buttons in an attempt to find "Melmo."

I ran out of laundry detergent, paper towels, dishwasher detergent and Clorox wipes on the same day. This of course meant a trip to Target with the Ladies, where we were able to get all of the above, but also came home with Princess gummy vitamins, Princess band-aids, Princess toothpaste and spent about 15 minutes "browsing" the toy aisles for things to add to the Christmas list.

The Little Lady is down to one nap a day and she only naps for maybe an hour. An hour. Ugh.

The Money-Saving-Mom sent her husband to the brand new grocery store in town, where a gallon of milk is only $1.99. He came home with 4 gallons of organic milk at $5.29 a pop.

The Christmas cards have been delivered. After making 6 different versions, I decided on one and by using a combination of coupon codes and giveaways, I was able to save over a hundred dollars on the cards, two photo books and shipping. Now I just have to address the envelopes and buy the postage. I am hoping these go out before December 15th.

The countdown begins for my husband to head to Cali for two weeks. 15 more days before he leaves. I have a feeling there will be a lot of late night blog posts and peanut M&M binges as I try to navigate those days on my own.

Missed you guys. Thanks for reading.

Bean

Halloween 2010

2010-11-12T17:05:00.001-05:00

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