My Excuse..And Exciting News

I haven't posted in almost two weeks - and I have a good reason for it, really, I do!  I've made a commitment to myself to start working out, EVERY night, after the kids go to bed.  It's been tough because sometimes it's 9:00 by the time both kids are down for the count.  But I've been sticking with it for a week and a half now.

I've heard so much about The 30 Day Shred and decided to give it a whirl.  Each of the workouts is 20 minutes long, and even I can find the time and motivation to work out for a mere 20 minutes a day.  I've been seeing results already, so that gives me even more motivation to stick with it.  So I've decided to revise my goal of posting five times a week to my blog, down to once a week.  I guess now I'm going to have to make it count.  :-)

Now for the exciting news!  About a week ago, did you hear it when the heavens opened up and a chorus of angels sang "Hallelujah!"  No?  Maybe it was just in my head, then.  The reason - Sammy is potty-trained!!!!  He's been in his big boy underwear since last Thursday, and we've only had a couple of accidents (and only of the wet variety!) so it's official.  And on top of it all, he's woken up dry four out of the past five mornings.  I guess when he was ready, he was really ready.

We did have one small hiccup.  About three days into the training, it seems that he got afraid of doing #2 in the potty and held it in for a day and a half.  Finally, I gave him a glass of undiluted juice, which produced the desired effect in about half an hour.  He said he needed to go, and I brought him into the bathroom.  No sooner had he pulled down his pants than he changed his mind and very firmly said he didn't have to go.  Ten minutes later, he got a panic-stricken look on his face and again said he needed to go.  Once again, he changed his mind as soon as we got into the bathroom but I matter-of-factly said it looked like he needed to go.  To distract him, I started telling him one of his favorite stories - Little Red Riding Hood - while I helped him onto the potty.  The wolf hadn't even made it to grandma's door yet when the deed was done.  And it's been smooth going ever since, so to speak.

Tuesday evening, we went to Chuck E. Cheese to celebrate.  The kids had a blast, as usual, but we were all cranky and overtired by the time we got home.  We have a second reward planned for Sammy, but he doesn't know about it yet.

See, lately he's been asking for a puppy.  We're not ready to take that step just yet, but we've decided to get him a hamster or a gerbil instead.  So Saturday morning, we're going to take him to pick out a small rodent of his very own.  I just hope this one isn't an escape artist, like the previous hamster I owned (whose name was Baby Houdini).  I kid you not, that hamster could escape from any cage designed by man.  That thing was lucky it lived as long as it did, since I also had two cats.  I couldn't tell you how many times I came home from work and walked in the door to see the cats intently staring at the hamster - but they never harmed it.  Sadly, Baby Houdini met his end by escaping in front of a not-so-tolerant cat, after I gave him up when I moved in with Ron.  This time, I've done my research and I think I've discovered what looks to be a hamster-proof and small-child-proof cage.  Let's hope so, anyway.

Better Late Than Never

Since Natalie's 2nd birthday is only 11 months away, I thought it would be fun to take a look back at some pictures from her first birthday party.  

It was a rainy, dreary day, but the kids still enjoyed themselves.  Except for when Natalie fell off the picnic bench onto the hard cement floor.  And when she got run over by Sam on his trike.  But, other than that, fun was had by all.

Bye, Bye, Binky

Sam has always had a very strong sucking reflex.  When he was less than a day old in the hospital, one of the nurses commented on it and predicted that he would be a baby who loved his binky.  He did, when I finally broke down and gave him one at about three weeks old after I couldn't take one more second of the round-the-clock nursing.  His beloved binky, his precious pacifier, became his (and my) best friend and got us through many tough times - teething, ear infections, and general crankiness.  

About six months ago, I decided to try to get rid of the binky.  I could tell after a few minutes that he wasn't ready yet, so I scrapped that idea.  If there's one thing Sam has taught me, it's that things go a lot easier when he's ready for it, not when I'm ready for it.

Then a week ago, binkies started turning up cracked and broken.  The first couple, I wrote off as a coincidence.  Then I noticed Sam chewing on binkies in the corner of his mouth, and put two and two together.  That, to me, was a signal that he no longer needed his binky, and it was just a habit and a prop.

So, Friday night, Operation Binky Removal began.  I built up to it all week, by explaining to Sam that the Binky Fairy was going to come and take his binkies for the new babies that needed them and leave him a present instead.  Awhile back, we watched The Wizard of Oz on TV, and he loved that movie and still asks for it, so I suggested that the Binky Fairy might bring him that movie as a present.  Unfortunately, I wasn't able to locate it in either Target, Walmart, or Best Buy, so I hoped that he'd forgotten that discussion.

When Friday night actually came, we wrote a letter to the Binky Fairy, put the letter and his last binkies in an envelope, and put it in the mailbox.  At bedtime, he cajoled and pleaded for his binky, but never actually cried.  When he pleaded, "But I'm still small.  I need my binky," that just about did me in, but I stayed firm.  Sam tossed and turned, mumbled to himself, kicked and squirmed, and finally fell asleep after about an hour - about three times as long as usual.

Saturday morning, he came into our bedroom at 5:00 a.m. and cried for his binky.  I explained that the Binky Fairy had already taken them, and he was too big for a binky anyway.  He cried less than five minutes, then fell back asleep.  When he woke up for the day, he popped up and said, "I was sad for my binky this morning, but I'm not sad anymore!" and that was really the last of it.  He hasn't asked for his binky since (it's Sunday afternoon as I write this), although it's still taking him a lot longer than usual to fall asleep.

Lastly, when he opened his gift from the Binky Fairy (a Bert and Ernie DVD and a toy tractor), he was really excited, but after a few minutes he said hopefully, "Maybe the Binky Fairy will bring me The Wizard of Oz next time."  I'm going to have to put a bug in Santa's ear to make sure he gets that one at Christmas instead.

The Dreaded One-Year Checkup

Natalie had her one-year well-baby checkup yesterday. Dread is not a strong enough word to describe how I felt about the upcoming appointment.

Let me explain why. Twenty months ago, Sammy had his one-year appointment, and I expected that the shots would be the worst part of it all. As usual, he cried when he got the shots but got over them quickly. Then...the blood draw. You see, at our pediatrician's office, they want to check lead levels and hemoglobin levels at twelve months old. So, they stuck Sammy's finger and he instantly started screaming. It took an eternity for them to squeeze out enough blood to fill the three little tubes full of blood, with Sammy getting more and more frantic with each passing second. In the parking lot afterwards, it took literally close to an hour to calm Sammy down enough to get him into his car seat. And that was with nursing, his usual cure-all.

Now, Natalie is a bit more skittish about new situations than Sammy was. So I was expecting at least twice the commotion. She cried at her shots, but got over them pretty quickly. We dawdled in the examination room after dressing her, letting Sammy take as long as he wanted to pick out a sticker from the doctor's sticker drawer, delaying the inevitable. I walked slowly down the hall with Natalie in tow, feeling like I was leading her like a lamb to the slaughter.

I sat down in the lab chair with Natalie on my lap and tried to steel myself. I felt her flinch when the nurse stuck her finger, but...no tears. As the blood flowed into the tubes, Natalie watched with curiosity at that strange red stuff coming out of her finger. And when the nurse put a band-aid on her finger, Natalie scrutinized it and evidently found it pretty, since she proudly showed off her band-aid to everyone she came across on the way out of the doctor's office.

Well then. Ahem. To think of all the time I wasted worrying about that darn appointment, when I could have been spending all that mental energy trying to solve the current energy crisis.

Dinosaur!

I didn't have the heart to stop him from drawing all over my crossword puzzle, even though I'd just barely started it. Especially when he said his dinosaur needed eyes and feet and drew them in approximately the correct locations. I think this is his first piece of artwork that has resembled its label (assuming you squint your eyes, tilt your head at a 23-degree angle, and stand on one foot).

Baby steps

Sorry the video is so dark. This digital camcorder works great in daylight, but I am still trying to figure out how to take decent indoor videos.

The Weekend Update

Friday morning, we went to a parade, which both of the kids loved. Sammy was a little intimidated by the older children who shouldered their way past him to grab as much of the candy as they could get, but eventually he got braver and did manage to snag a few tootsie rolls. We went to a fireworks display on Friday night, and Sammy was underwhelmed, to say the least. He has been going to bed around 8:30 lately, and the fireworks didn't start until 10:00, so I think that was a big part of the problem. The good news? He slept in until 7:30 on Saturday morning. I honestly don't remember the last time he did that.

Natalie had a huge weekend. Not only did she learn how to walk, but she cut another tooth (finally! a grand total of 3 now!) and - can I get a drumroll, please - she slept through the night last night, for the first time ever! Surprisingly, I didn't even wake up to wonder why she hadn't woken up yet, so I got a very restful night's sleep.

Speaking of Natalie, let me tell you about our little drama queen. For example, this morning she wanted to play with Sammy's potty chair (yuck!) so I finally picked it up and put it where she couldn't reach it. She looked at the chair, looked at me, then flung herself face-first onto the floor and started shrieking in outrage. This exact scene plays itself out a couple of dozen times every day. I had to laugh when I picked her up from daycare on Thursday, and her daycare teacher told me they'd been calling her a "drama queen" all day. Apparently she doesn't just save those shows for me. I should also say that her teacher said that with affection - I know that's one of those things that could be taken different ways, and it all depends on the tone of voice. Trust me, every time I call her a drama queen, I am struggling to contain my laughter. I'm sure I won't find it as funny when she's a teenager, but right now I find it hilarious to see a 2 1/2-foot-tall little girl in a frilly dress flinging herself on the floor in tears over a potty chair.

And one last random story. Both kids seemed to have some sort of mild stomach bug this weekend. It didn't really seem to bother them, but it did give them yucky diapers for about half a day each. And that resulted it a really nasty-looking diaper rash apiece. Sammy's cleared up pretty quickly, but poor Natalie was still really red and sore-looking last night, so after bath I decided to let her go diaper-free in the kitchen for awhile. I gave her some crackers and cheese cubes in a bowl on the floor, and that drew Sammy's attention (for some reason, her food is always much more appetizing to him than his own food).

After about fifteen minutes, I vaguely heard Sammy say something but I was lost in my thoughts and didn't pay any attention. A few seconds later, his voice became more urgent and I snapped to attention. "Hurry up! Nye peeing all over!" he was saying, over and over. I turned to look, and there she was, sitting in a growing puddle and, unconcerned, was just about to pick up a soggy cracker to put in her mouth. That is why I kept her in the kitchen (tile floor versus carpet) for diaper-free time.

Milkmaid No More

After a long, close personal relationship with my breastpump for all but 3 months of the past 2 1/2 years, I think it is finally over between us. This wasn't how (or when) I saw it ending, but it is what it is.

I ended up weaning Sammy earlier than I wanted to, at 17 months old. At the time, I was 6 months pregnant with Natalie, and since becoming pregnant, nursing was not only painful but gave me a creepy-crawly feeling similar to hearing nails on a chalkboard. So when he started going for a day at a time without asking to nurse, it only took a little gentle encouragement on my part to wean him. I was sad about our nursing relationship ending, especially since I had hoped to nurse him until he was two years old, but I was also really ready at that point.

Then came Natalie. Since she is my last baby, I planned to nurse her as long as she wanted to, envisioning that I would have to be the one to put an end to it at some point. Wouldn't you know, she ended up being born with a mind of her own (imagine that!) and soon, the little baby who wouldn't deign to let a silicone nipple pass her lips for the first three months of her life started daycare, and learned to love and prefer the bottle. By six months old, the only time she would nurse was in the middle of the night, when she was too tired to care what method was used to deliver her milk, as long as it got into her belly, stat.

About a month ago, she stopped nursing at night. It was up to me and my trusty pump to keep her supplied with mama's milk. Unfortunately, due to renovations at work, I no longer have a private room to pump, so that set me pretty far back. Most of the time at home, it's all I can do to keep the kids fed, clean, and happy, so finding 10 minutes to sit down and hook myself up to the milkers is a near impossibility. So I ended up pumping only twice a day, which quickly went down to once. Yesterday, I realized I'm only pumping 2 oz. per day - not even half a bottle worth - and finally decided it's time to throw in the towel.

The good part? I can now finally concentrate on losing the last 10 pounds of my pregnancy weight (from my pregnancy with Sammy!) and hopefully a little more. In the past, every time I've tried to diet, my milk supply has crashed. And the next time I get a cold, I can take cold medicine. Oh, how I've missed my cold medicine over the last 2 1/2 years, in which I've averaged a cold a month during the winter months, thanks to all the viruses the kids drag home from daycare.

I suppose now I'll have to change the name of my blog...

Here We Go Again

It's official - Natalie is now walking. Wouldn't you know it, I turned on the camcorder to capture the moment and...dead battery. It's charging now, so I'll post some video tomorrow. Assuming I haven't lost my sanity by then.

More breaking news

Natalie took one unassisted, halting step tonight. She'll be nine months old tomorrow. This one is going to give me a run for my money, just like her brother.

Breaking News

Not ten minutes ago, Sammy came out into the living room and proudly announced, "I go poop in the potty!" Not believing him, I said, "You went poop, or did you just go potty?" He repeated, "I go poop!" Still not believing, I said, "You went poop in the potty chair or in your diaper?" By this point, he was getting exasperated and he said, "I go POOP in the POTTY CHAIR!" I got up to look, and sure enough, he did!

Ron said, "I have to say, that is so much easier to clean up than a dirty diaper. Just one wipe and that's it." Five minutes later, the turd was still in the potty chair, and guess who ended up dumping it in the toilet and cleaning it? NOT Mr. It-Is-So-Much-Easier-To-Clean-Up-This-Way.

Lost: SANITY. Big reward for safe return.

Natalie is now fully mobile. She started crawling, haltingly, about a week ago, but over the weekend she figured out that she can really get places now. Couple that with the fact that she pulls up on everything, and you get trouble. Case in point: this morning, while I was trying to get ready for work, she went over to an end table, pulled herself up, and flung every last magazine on the floor. Then she followed me into the kitchen, opened a cabinet, and pulled out a stack of heavy pots and pans, narrowly avoiding smashing her teeny-tiny toes in the process. This is all in the space of ten minutes. This was an exhausting weekend. Not just for me, though. She tired herself out so much yesterday that she fell asleep in her high chair while we were still eating supper. She didn't even twitch a muscle when I took her to her room, changed her diaper, put on her pajamas, and placed her in her crib.

Even scarier? When she pulls herself up, she lets go and balances for up to 10 seconds at a time. Um, if I remember correctly, that means walking is not too far off. I had really hoped that Sammy would be a better listener (i.e. less likely to take off running in the parking lot) before she started walking, but it looks like I'm not going to be that lucky.

One of our recent craft projects was making suncatchers. They were really easy and used materials that I had around the house. Details and instructions to come later tonight. The pictures are still on my camera. For some odd reason, I didn't have any time this weekend to do anything except CHASE THE CHILDREN.

We've all been dealing with a nasty spring cold this past week. Well, it was bad for Ron & I, but the kids seemed to weather it pretty well. I ended up calling in sick to work on Thursday because I had a fever and body aches. Ugh. I am so ready for summer.

Speaking of which, how is it that I went to bed last night on a rainy April evening, and woke up this morning to a windy, cold, snowy November morning? I couldn't believe it when I looked out the window and saw two inches of snow on the ground.

On to the family news. Natalie is pulling up on everything, has started to do the "inchworm crawl", and cut her first tooth this morning. My

baby is disappearing before my eyes, and being replaced by an almost-toddler.

This morning, while I was getting ready in the bathroom, Sammy swooped in and stole my mascara from the counter. I figured his first attempt would be to pull apart the two halves, so I assumed I would have enough time to finish brushing my teeth before he figured out that it needed to be twisted apart. Before the thought even fully formed in my mind, I heard the thwup of the mascara wand being pulled out of the container. I dashed into the hall, and grabbed it away from him before he had a chance to do any damage. Or so I thought, until he turned around.

File in baby book under: "First Black Eye"

He let me clean off the worst of it, but didn't want me to get too close to his eye. So he spent the rest of the day bearing a strange resemblance to Boy George.

Natalie has had a big week. A few days ago, she learned how to clap her hands. Last night, she learned the "How Big Is Baby? SO BIG!" game. These go quite well together. I say, "How big is baby?" and she raises her hands while I say, "SO BIG!" and then she claps for herself. I wanted to record it, but by the time we found the camcorder, that game was old news.

She had to have her 6-month shots yesterday. They were delayed at her regular well-baby visit because of her double ear infections. Did you know, there's a shortage of the HIB vaccine right now? So they're giving it to the 2- and 4-month-olds, but delaying the 6-month-olds. On the one hand, that's annoying because it means a separate trip in to the office when they get it in stock. On the other hand, I'm grateful because I'm suspicious about loading all those vaccines in a baby's body all in one shot (pun intended). I'm a very reluctant vaccinator in the first place. I know vaccines save lives, but I hate putting foreign substances with questionable safety records into my childrens' bodies. That's a vent for another day, though.

And then, the REALLY big news, is we finally found something Natalie will eat! She loves bananas. Up until now, everything we've given her (oatmeal, pears, and peas) has resulted in the Mr. Yuck face and/or gagging. Like this:


I've been telling her, ever since we started trying to spoon-feed her, that I was cutting her off by the time she started kindergarten. I am not willing to drive to school every day to be the milk part of her milk & cookie break. Looks like that won't be an issue anymore.

Natalie is sitting up pretty well these days, but she still does a lot of over-correcting. As long as she doesn’t get hurt, it’s pretty hilarious.

Over the weekend, I had her sitting on Sammy’s bed while I was putting clothes away. She and Sammy were both sitting there, looking at a book together. Well, mostly Sammy was looking at the book, and every time Natalie would try to touch it, Sammy would say, “No touch, Nye. My book.” and yank it away from her. But at least they were both occupied and no one was crying.

I turned around to see Natalie hanging headfirst off the bed. I lunged and grabbed her in time before the rest of her slid off. I had set her well away from the edge of the bed, but I always underestimate how long she is. She didn’t even seem to realize what had happened, so all was well.

That reminded me of something that happened when Sammy was around the same age. I set him on the floor in the hall outside the bathroom, and Anya came running over. That poor cat never did figure out that she was more likely to get her fur pulled by him than petted.

First, I need to explain the “fall-down” trick. Both of our cats were very good at this trick. It was one of the only two tricks in their repertoire – the other one being the “lie on the newspaper to get your human’s attention” trick. The fall-down trick involved me patting the floor, and the cat coming over and flopping down on top of my hand.

Sammy must have done something with his hand that reminded Anya of this trick. She put her head down on Sammy’s hand, and executed her trick flawlessly. Sammy went butt-over-teakettle backwards, cat on top of him.

I rushed into the hall, laughing so hard I couldn’t hardly catch a breath, and removed the cat so she wouldn’t end up clawing him as she tried to get off.

I wasn’t finished in the bathroom yet, so after sitting Sammy back up in the hall, I went back to the bathroom.

Along came Anya for round two. She sauntered past Sammy, twitching her tail in invitation – come on, you know you want to pet me was what she was thinking. Sammy was thinking, I wonder what will happen if I pull this? He reached out and grabbed her tail, and she tried to take off running. That was enough to yank Sammy out of his precarious sitting position, and he landed squarely on top of Anya. They called it even and went on to other pursuits.

When you have a four-month-old baby, one of the most common questions people ask is, “Does s/he sleep through the night yet?” My answer to that is a maniacal laugh. Sammy didn’t sleep through the night until he was 15 months old, so I don’t have high hopes that Natalie will be any different. She doesn’t even consistently sleep the 5-hour stretch that the experts call “sleeping through the night” (and my night is a lot longer than 5 hours).

If she ever does sleep a long stretch, I always wake up in panic – OMG the baby hasn’t woken yet OMG SIDS OMG – just to hear her start crying 2 minutes later. I’m sure that has nothing to do with me poking at her and peering in her face to see if I can hear her breathing. I’m guessing maybe that is maybe why my babies don’t learn to sleep through the night for a long time - they’ve learned to expect a rude awakening if they sleep too long.

On Friday night, we moved Sammy into a twin bed. It was pretty much a non-event. The only thing that has changed is that instead of waking up to the sound of Sammy crying in his crib, begging to be sprung from jail, we’ve woken up the past three mornings to the quiet “click” of his door opening, followed by the proclamation, “I’m awake!”

Now the crib is available for Natalie, but I’m not ready to move her yet. There are pros and cons to having her in our room. It would be nice to turn the light on at night, so I could read awhile before going to sleep, but on the other hand – I really like my sleep. It’s so much easier to deal with her by reaching over than it is trekking across the hall to get her every time she wakes up. And I’ll miss hearing the small noises she makes as she sleeps. Or when she wakes up during the night, ready to play (like she did at 4:00 a.m. this morning). If anyone else woke me up at that ungodly hour, they’d hear about my displeasure – but listening to her laugh and chatter makes it impossible to be grouchy.

Yesterday, a friend came over with her two boys. While the older kids were playing, the adults and the baby were in the living room where Natalie was on the floor, trying her best to roll over. She’s been working at this skill with such good-humored patience for the past couple of weeks; it’s been inspiring to watch her. Wouldn’t you know it, I left the room for a minute, and she rolled over. So, it wasn’t Ron or I who witnessed it for the first time – but my friend! She was so excited about her new trick that she spent all night practicing. She’s still in our room, so all night long this is what I heard: grunt, grunt (as she exerted herself) then a few moments of silence, after she’d succeeded. Then, waaaahhhh!!!! because she doesn’t like to be on her stomach for very long. She does know how to roll back the other way, but I think she was so surprised at being on her stomach that she caught herself off-guard.

Last night, I was trying to clean up the supper dishes while Natalie lounged in her high chair and Sammy sat at the kitchen table, finishing his supper. Natalie was tired and started wailing, but I couldn’t get to her right away. Sammy took matters into his own hands and got right up in her face, saying, “Cut it out, Natalie! CUT IT OUT!” I wonder where he might have heard that phrase? Could it be the million and one times that I’ve told him that while we’re driving somewhere, and he’s sitting in the backseat whining because, I’M STRAPPED IN AND IT’S CUTTING OFF MY CIRCULATION AND I CAN’T RUN AROUND AND WREAK HAVOC AND WAAAHHH WAAHHH WAAAHHH.

I was definitely ready to come back to work this morning.

Happy Birthday, Sammy!

Hours old.

Mmmmm...cake. (1st birthday)

Bright & early this morning
(he insisted that Santa be in the picture, too)

And this one's for Grandma, who rounded up this pony for him at Christmas.

Yee-haw!