Midnight Pears

We have finally joined a church and have been attending fairly regularly. I have always prayed with the kids before bed (whether they realize it or not) but usually Annie would interrupt me and we would go of on some other tangent and I would circle back to quietly finish the prayer as I sat with her.


But lately Annie has been saying she's "scared" at night. Now, who knows if this is just a ploy for additional parent time or if she is actually scared of the dark? But either way, part of my prayer is that Angels will watch over them and keep them safe while they sleep.


After about 1,523 questions from Annie about these "angels" (do they have wings? are they "ghostses"? how big are they? can you see them, mommy? do they like my room?) I think she finally has accepted the night time prayer and finds comfort in the angel portion of it.


Last night Rick put Annie to bed and I just gave her a quick kiss goodnight and started getting ready for bed myself.


At midnight I hear her padding over to Rick's side of the bed:


A: Mommy needs to see my pants.
R: What? What about your pants? Do you have to go to the bathroom?
A: No, my pears. Mommy needs to see my pears.
R: .....rolls over..."she wants you"


Annie and I walk back into her room and she is talking about her pears and how I forgot them. At this point I think she's sleepwalking and just tuck her back in because, pears????


But she isn't having it. She jolts back up in bed and demands pears.


Me: I don't know what you are talking about with the pears.
Annie: You know mommy, like God?


Oh.....I forgot to say your prayers.


Thank you, God, for these sweet babes. I promise I won't ever forget their pears again.

JOHN IS ONE!!!!

Dear John,
I am at a loss for words.

You are one. 365 days old. You have made our family complete. You are my big little boy. You are so very very busy. And so very very happy.

It's really hard for me to believe it's been a year. On one hand, it seems like you were a tiny baby about three weeks ago. But then it also seems like it's been an eternity since I was in that hospital room getting ready to have you. Rick and I thought and thought about it and couldn't even remember where we went for dinner the night before you were born. That's pretty lame. Of course, we might only remember the "last meal" before Annie was born because it was KFC and so incredibly random and horrible.

But I do remember that there was a large snow storm the day before we went to the hospital. And I remember your Dad went and got us all donuts (an apple fritter for me) the morning before we went in for our induction. I remember that I loved looking out my hospital window and seeing snow covered hills and Christmas lights and thinking how special it would be to have a new baby home at Christmas.

I remember thinking it was uncanny how similar your birth was to your sister's, and how thankful I am that I can push a baby out so quickly, since you both had your cords wrapped around your bodies. I was so thankful this time to get to have you in my room with me instead of a baby in the NICU.
 

I remember thinking it was so odd that when we had a baby in the NICU, we had to watch a video on infant CPR before we could take Annie home. Since you were not in the NICU, we had to watch a video on not shaking a baby. Weird, but true. I remember being thankful that I got to change your diaper and swaddle you before we took you home, because, let's face it, I needed a little refresher course on that stuff.


I remember that your Dad went home both nights so he could get a good night's sleep (at my insistence). I had your bassinet right next to me and didn't sleep at all the first night. I kept rolling over to look at you. It was so quiet and peaceful. And I tried not to worry about you, or worry about your sister. Or worry about how we were going to survive again with an infant.


But you were so good. So sweet. I loved having you with me from the beginning. And while I haven't stopped worrying about you or your sister, I have stopped worrying about how we will get through. What I have learned in the last few years is that we are a team. And you fit right in. Right now, your "job" (as Annie likes to say) is to make us all smile, give Annie someone to play with, and to give me a new appreciation for a full night's sleep. We have all stepped up our game in the last year, and it's been the best one yet.


So while we don't have a bunch of staged photos of you in a perfect birthday outfit, with a perfect birthday cake with perfect birthday lighting, and none of that will likely ever happen in your lifetime, I can promise that I will do my best to give you our version of perfect birthdays for as long as you will let me. So while it might not always be pretty, it will be fun and happy and loving, which sounds about perfect to me.

Happy birthday, sweet Boy. I love you so incredibly much,
Mom

2 weeks from ONE YEAR OLD

Dear John,

My sweet, sweet, baby J. I am so sorry. I had every intention of documenting your life here, but that's just not happening. We are busy with you and your sister and working and holidays and day to day that this just keeps getting pushed aside.

You are crawling. Fast. When we found out we were having a boy, everyone warned us that boys are a handful, but I quickly dismissed it, saying that Annie was a really busy and active kid and I couldn't imagine a boy being much different. Well. Let's just say, you are much different.

Let's just say, you are excellent at hazard identification. You notice/seek out the most dangerous things possible. Things Annie never glanced twice at. Things I would never even think could be a hazard until I see you slowly creeping up towards it, eyeing me over your shoulder to see if I am watching.

For example: The Christmas Tree. We put it up on Friday. I worried about you pulling the tree down on top of you because what baby wouldn't be fascinated with the hundreds of sparkling, ACCESSIBLE twinkle lights. I anticipated pulling you away from the tree 157 times the first day, you being drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

What actually happened: You didn't even give it a second glance. It would have been impossible for you to care less about the tree. You were, however, immediately drawn to the electric cord leading from the tree to the wall.

So that's awesome.

Thankfully you are more interested in the sooty fireplace tools than the fireplace itself. For now.

As they say, you are all boy. You love to get dirty and are always on the move. That, I was prepared for, thanks to your big sister. You no longer want to be held. You want to be crawling or climbing. You love slides and to crawl on top of Annie's chair. You love your cow blankie SERIOUSLY. If it's not in your hand, you are grunting around until you find it.

You are a bit more of a picky eater than your sister was at this age. But then, there's zero consistency. You will like something one day, and then make a face at it the next. The only thing you have not turned your nose up at yet is cantaloupe. Go figure.

You still take a bottle 3-4 times a day. You eat about 60% table food and still like baby foods/purees. You take two naps, usually 1-2 hours a piece. You are still in size 4 diapers. You have four bottom teeth and two top teeth, with a third making its way through as I type this.

You are loud and funny and sweet and cuddly (sometimes). Annie loves you SO much and you love her. You look for her every morning and always want to play with her. You all have started "play fighting" where she chases you and presses your bottom into the ground when she catches you. You howl with laughter and think it's the funniest thing ever. It has aged me about 10 years. I guess this is only the beginning. 



Thirty years from now I want to remember your "fuzzy duck" hair, how you think it's so funny when I pretend your socks are stuck and smell your feet and make a big production about how stinky they are. I want to remember how much you love the bath and how every night before bed I lay your cow over my shoulder and you lay your head down and we say our prayers before I put you in your crib. I want to remember how much you love music and dancing and how you do this little wiggle dance when you are eating something you really like.

I love you, sweet boy.

~mom

This Time, With Feeling

There are few things I have delighted in more than watching a child learn the English language. And with the start of school, Annie is learning all sorts of new, fun words. She now says exciting things like "frustrated" and "suffocate" and "emergency". I am not sure exactly what is going on at school. We are kind of on a "don't ask/don't tell" policy at this point.

Along with learning new words comes learning proper inflection, which is probably my favorite. Annie is very enthusiastic about almost everything and so random words are always getting screamed or stretcccchhhheeed ouuuuuuuttt. Or stretched out while screaming. It's awesome.

Yesterday we were headed out to pick up a doll that will assist her in learning how to perform basic tasks like zipping zippers and buttoning buttons. Because God forbid her parents help her with that. (the doll won't bleed when she starts swinging out of frustration -fun new word- when she can't button her shirt properly) Every man for themselves and all that.

We missed the turn for our house and Annie asked where we were going:

Me: to pick up something

Annie: What? A sooo-prise? For me?

Me: I guess it's a surprise. I am not sure how you are going to feel about it.

Annie: Oh mom, I am sure I will feel A LOT about it.

The doll made it home. After one failed attempt at buttoning the button, and a swift jab to the doll's midsection (frustration), it sits on our dining room table.

Turns out, she didn't feel a lot about it. So frustrating.



A documented first, almost 10 months

Dear John,

While there have been loads of firsts for you already (first solids-4 months, first rolling over-around 6 months, first tooth-7.5 months), almost none of it has been documented here. I remember I documented the first time your sister shed HER FIRST TEAR. That's some serious first time parent crap right there. But yet you bounce blissfully along, undocumented in all your cute glory. I am so sorry, sweet boy.

I don't think the documentation will get any better since you are fully mobile now. As of last week (9.5 months), you are fully mobile and into EVERYTHING. My once docile little hunk is now seemingly incapable of sitting still. And you love to stand. No more time to sit and play with toys. Everything must be reached and once that particular item is obtained, you move on to something else almost instantly.

In light of the changing weather and your new mobility, I figured it was time for some shoes. Now I should add that I had received multiple pairs of cute and fashionable shoes as hand me downs from other friends, but let's just say they didn't quite fit your...ahem...robust foot situation. We needed professional assistance so the fam headed out to the local children's shoe experts this weekend.

You hated it.

Ha-TED it. I am sure those in the front of the store thought you were getting your vaccines or something by how hard you were crying. The salesperson said she had never seen a reaction like that and was clearly troubled by the exchange and said she wasn't going to sleep that night because of how you wailed every time she came near. They had exactly one pair of shoes in stock that fit your perfect portly peds. They wouldn't normally be my first choice, but you wear them well.

Rick said he was just thrilled they had something that fit and didn't emerge from the back with two burlap sacks and a roll of duct tape.

Sporting the size five, double wides, almost in need of a Velcro extension.

And I am not going to dwell on how big you look in them. You are, and will always be, my baby. 

An Outing

Fall in our house is full of outings. Carnivals, zoo trips, playgrounds. You name it. Anything to be outside when it's not one billion, or zero, degrees outside. This past weekend was one of our favorites, the Best of Missouri fair at the Botanical Gardens. There's a ton of good food, beers, talented artists (who knew there were so many woodworkers in Missouri???), and then, as if that's not enough, there's a whole setup for the kids. We were there for a good four hours. Thanks to my incorrect interpretation of a map, there was no southern exit from the park, so we walked the ENTIRE garden. For the last hour I was cautious with the kids as it was dangerously close to (and then past) nap time, Annie was running on fumes from samples of toffee, and John had been in the stroller on and off for three hours.

But there were no melt downs. Annie ran and ran and looked at bridges and fish and beautiful flowers and John strolled and it was basically the perfect day. I even asked Annie if she was getting tired and she said "Yes, and I think I am getting angry". But she never actually got angry. 

J and I hung out in the pumpkin patch while annie got her face painted.

"Mommy! That fish got me!"

Rick had to pretend like he didn't place her in this tree himself when approached by the garden staff. It's every man for himself in this family.

I mean, she milked.a.cow. "I squeezed it really hard. There was no milk. That cow might be broken."

Further proof that Annie really isn't afraid of (or grossed out by) anything.

J again escapes the stroller to pose for the camera.

So until the weather turns horrible, we will be squeezing the life out of St. Louis in the fall. Then you probably won't hear from us for 4-5 months.

John-8.5 months

Oh sweet, sweet, John. I am so sorry. I really have every intention of posting more about you. But you and your sister keep me so busy.

Here are some updates:

-you (as of about 7.5 months) now have TWO bottom teeth. They just popped up one day, no real fuss.

-you have had a LOT of colds/runny noses. I don't know what's going on with it, but I am ready for it to stop, and I am sure you are too. When you see me coming toward you with the nose sucker thing, you are not happy.

-But that really is the only time you are not happy. You are a delightful, squishy little human. People seem to be drawn to you, particularly in the grocery store, where your ample thighs are grabbed and cheeks are pinched by complete strangers. This might account for some of the colds you are always getting.

-You are eating "real" foods now. You seem to prefer veggies over super sweet things, and make a face like you are eating a lemon when you tried watermelon for the first time. All hilariously adorable.

-You are in size three diapers, but you could probably go up to a four. You are not small. You have been out of your pumpkin seat for about a month now because you exceeded the 22 pound weight limit. To think I was once worried about you gaining weight makes me chuckle now.

You adore your big sister and she adores you. The other night you were fussing at bedtime and I heard her start to sing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" to you. You stopped immediately. Heart.Busted.

You are such a sweet little man. You love playing with toys and are content to just sit between my legs and roll things around. Your absolute favorite thing is my keys and then my cell phone. Again, could be why you constantly have colds. Poor, neglected second children. At least we are building your immune system!

You love riding in the stroller. I took you for a 45 minute walk on Sunday. I was convinced you were asleep because I didn't hear a peep from you. But no, you were awake the whole time, just being a really good boy. This is a huge change for us, since big sister did NOT like the stroller.

You are great at sitting up and are making moves to get into a crawling position, but no official crawling yet. I am guessing that will start within the next month or so. I am not in any hurry for that nonsense.

You are my sweet, snugly, smiley boy. I don't ever want to forget how you place your hand on the side of my face when I hold you before bed, or how you laugh when I rub your tummy when I am giving you a bottle, or how you are so proud of yourself when you clap, or how you look around the room for your sister first thing in the morning and smile really big when you find her, or how excited you get when you get a good bounce going in your exersaucer. Thank you for making our family complete.

I love you to pieces, sweet boy.

~mom

These Days-3 years&2 months, and almost 7 months old

It's been a while.

There's a lot going on but not a lot happening. It's this crazy limbo of there being lots of sleep but not enough sleep. It's very strange. Annie still naps for 1-2 hours a day. John seems to be going the wrong direction with the naps and most days takes four short naps a day. We are constantly busy, but with exactly what I can't say.

There are trips to the pool. The store, the park, the mall. On hot days we seek out water and air conditioning. We go to "daddy work" before it opens. We eat cheese noodles and grapes and crackers and yogurt. John now eats baby food and is getting really good at it. We are finished with breast feeding, which is a good thing. I think (more on this later, maybe). Annie and John are still cohabitating and that is working for now.

Life feels a bit like we are trapped in a huge bounce house together, jumping off the walls and barely missing each other. Kind of like we are narrowly avoiding major collisions again and again. It's a really weird feeling. Fun but also terrifying.

Summer is in full swing. The weather has been blessedly mild.

We are continuing to hit the carnivals. Annie can ride most of the kid rides by herself this year, which is saving us approximately $12,000.

I think this might be the first family photo together since we were in the hospital with John. Thanks, Debbie!!!

I am still working on getting Annie and John's nap to synch up in the afternoon. If she falls asleep first, I don't have the courage to let him fall asleep on his own in their room, lest he start squawking and wake her up. So we cuddle on the bed until he's out and then I move him. I don't hate it.

Annie is big into her toys these days. As is everything with my girl, it's all or nothing. She is currently hoarding topless princess Barbie dolls. I have no idea where 90% of their actual outfits went. I am sure I will find them when she goes off to college. John has probably eaten all their little glittery princess shoes.

If this seems frantic, it's because it is. Hopefully more later.

Annie-3 Years Old

Dear Annie,

I have drafted this letter about 1,000 times in my head so I figured it is time to put it down officially or it won't ever happen. You are three. 

The problem is, I don't even know where to begin.

You are awesome. You are funny. You know you are funny. You have even said "I like to make people laugh, mom." You are smart and one of the most observant people I have ever met. You notice when I change my makeup or if I already own an article of clothing similar to one I am eyeing at the mall. "You already have that shirt, Mom" is a common phrase uttered by you as I try to build up my collection of navy and white striped shirts in time for summer.

I knew you would be a great big sister, but I really thought that would just be when John got older. I had no idea. No idea. When he cries, you sing "twinkle twinkle wittle star" and he is instantly soothed. You make him laugh like no one else can. He is your biggest fan and it makes my heart hurt a bit to think about it. You always want to hold him and he loves being by your side.

This marked your first official year at "school" and you won the hearts of all your teachers and made some good friends. You never once looked back as I dropped you off and asked every day "Is today a school day?" You love being around people and playing games. You wait for "the girls" on our street to come home from school and make yourself visible in the front yard so they know you are available to participate in their activities.

You want so much to be "bigger". You want "big teef like yours, Mom!" and it always depresses you when you realize that you still can't master the monkey bars.

But you keep trying. You sing the Daniel Tiger song "Try try try try try it again. Keep trying, you'll get beh-eh-ter!" I have even caught you saying "I think I can!" when faced with an especially daunting task. Sometimes you get discouraged, and some tears are shed, but you never give up; you just resolve to try again another day. I can't tell you how proud this makes me. You are strong, confident and brave, and I love watching you try new things.

We are working on talking about our feelings, much to your Dad's dismay. You do a pretty good job of telling me when you are angry or your feelings are hurt, but we've had some hiccups. You pulled my hair the other night as I was leaning over to kiss you and I yanked my hair away and said NO PULLING HAIR! You immediately burst into tears and said I hurt your feelings.



I feel like I am just rambling because there is so much I want to capture. I can't believe I am so blessed to have such a wonderful daughter. You light up every day and I can't wait for you to get up every morning. Your Dad and I (and John!) adore you more than we could ever say. Thank you for being "my Annie".

I love you, sweet girl.

Mom

Mother's Day

Rick and I seem to have a curse on Mother's Day or Father's Day. Things inevitably go awry and the person that is trying to make the other's day as special as possible ends up frustrated and angry. Sometimes the Mom/Dad also gets a little let down. It's strange because on non-Mother/Father's days, we always have a great time and there are no issues. So I tried to figure out what was different.

The expectations.

Somehow we think that restaurant lines won't be long, Annie will start listening and not running into large crowds of people, the kids will somehow sleep until 9, food will have no calories and no pants will be peed in, just because of some arbitrary date on the calendar.


In the immortal words of Elsa, I just had to "let it go".




All I asked for was to have a picture of all of us together. Somehow we have managed to have two previous mother's days without pictures of all of us. Rick remembered and we got this in at the 11th hour. Annie is aggressively loving on John, John is not amused, Rick is trying to NOT make crazy eyes, and I am hiding all the bodily fluids of others that are staining my shirt.

So it's not a professional photo where everyone's in matching-but-not-matching outfits, casually strolling down a dirt road holding hands in the middle of nowhere, but that's not what motherhood looks like in this house. It's a real pic of my really sweet family on another day where we have fun and real crap happens but we love each other very hard, and that made it a perfect Mother's Day for me.

Roommates

John had his 4 month checkup on Friday (16lbs, 4.5 oz, 26 inches long, and head circumference of 17 inches). Doc confirmed he is still perfect. Well, perfect except for the fact that he is a human booger making machine. I mentioned that my fear of him choking on his own snot (something that actually happens in the night with him-awesome) was keeping me from moving him out of the bassinet. Dr. Eaton kind of balked at the notion that John was not in a crib yet and advised we should move him over in the next month or so.

I knew this needed to happen, for no other reason than the fact that he had about a quarter inch of clearance on either end of the bassinet.

We had fears that since he's still swaddled, he wouldn't be able to defend himself against his big sister, should she decide that he needed an extra pillow or blanket in the middle of the night. And then there were the general fears about them waking each other up in an endless cycle over the course of the night.

By Saturday, I had convinced myself that we were ready to do this. I had warned Annie of the dangers of climbing on the crib (the words "it will fall over and smash you" might have been used) and felt fairly confident after viewing the fear in her eyes that my message was received. I chose to focus on the damage she could do to herself rather than her brother, should she decide to climb the crib and mess with him, because I am fairly certain talking about "things to not do to John", she would just hear "things to do to John".

We put John down first and he was asleep 20 minutes before Annie joined him in the tiny room. She is incapable of whispering. Her whisper is somehow louder than regular toddler speech (which is louder than normal speech). Apparently she thinks whispering is screaming, but with your hand cupped over your mouth with a raspy voice.

John woke up.

Then Annie wanted to see that he was awake.

We refused.

She broke down.

I got John back to sleep.

I got Annie back in bed.

She then had to use the potty.

John woke up from all the potty commotion.

I then took John out of the room.

She broke down.

I contemplated if it would be quicker to sell our house and buy a new one with 3 bedrooms or just add on a room.

Threats were made.

I was sweating.

Rick then stepped in. She knows it's serious when Dad gets involved.

Rick put John in his crib and got Annie in her bed and then sat in the room until both were asleep.

We did the same thing Sunday night as well.

Annie did not wake John up in the night and he didn't wake her up either. Turns out both of them can sleep through about anything. We all survived.

I can admit it: I cried on Saturday night when we finally went to bed and saw his little empty bassinet. I am crying now typing this. I have loved having my little guy right beside me, where I know he's safe and I can get to him in half a second. I know he's probably 25 feet away and I can get to him in 10 seconds if he needs me. I wasn't crying out of fear for him. I know he will be fine. I was crying because I know how this goes. That this move to his own room was the first of hundreds of acts of letting go that will happen for the rest of my life with these two babies. As much as I want to hold him as close as I can for as long as I can, I know that's not good for any of us.  So they move into the next room, into the next big kid bed, into the next school, into another house, but I hope they always know that I will always be right there if the need me.

Do they sell Cliff Notes for Fairy Tales?

Every night I tickle Annie's back before bed. This started out as me just sitting beside her bed and tickling her back. As things tend to do with these kids, the process has gotten more and more drawn out and now I am in her toddler bed with her, singing her "good night" song and tickling her back/head/arms. Last night she wanted another book after the lights were out. I bargained with her that I would just tell her a story and asked what she wanted to hear, thinking it would be Frozen, or Cinderella, or Belle or some other princess story that I know backwards and forwards.


Annie: I want free burrs
Me: .....(blank stare)
Annie: FREE BURRRRRRSSSS, MOMMA!


At this point my Annie to English translator kicked in.


Me: Oh, Goldilocks and the Three Bears??
Annie: Yeah! Gawdywocks and the Free Burrs!


No big deal. I know this one. Goldilocks trespasses into a bear's house/den/whatever and is very hard to please, can't find food/chairs/beds that meet her quasi-burglarific standards and she ends up sleeping in someone's bed when the bears come home. Right? Right. I can handle this.


But Annie actually knew enough of the story to know what I was saying wasn't accurate, but she didn't know enough to actually correct me. Just to stop me and say "No, Momma, that's wrong." I didn't know whose porridge was too hot/cold/just right, so we debated that for a bit. Same with the bed and the chairs. We eventually worked it out and then we got to the end where the bears come home.


I was stumped.


What's the ending of this one? It would be appropriate for her to be eaten by the bears, that being the price one pays for trespassing and all that. But that's not really appropriate for bed time. I decided to wing it.


Me: And then the bears came home and saw Goldilocks and they were so excited to see her, they had a party!
Annie:....(blank stare)
Me:.....
Annie: I have to poop.


Thank God. Saved by the poop. Looks like it's time to brush up on my fairy tales since I can't rely on the poop break to bail me out of every story time bluff.

Tips on Potty Training

I feel fairly comfortable saying now that Annie is potty trained. She still sleeps in a pull up but wakes up dry about 99% of the time. I think the urge to use the bathroom is why we are blessed with 5:45 am wake ups, but that's another issue.


I read about every item available on the internet about potty training. They all had various and conflicting tips:


Praise and reward going on the potty!
Don't make a big deal about it, this is a normal human function!
Only go in the bathroom!
Put a training potty in every room of your house, and your CAR!


I was hellbent on getting Annie potty trained before John arrived. Rick and I would spend weekends in the house with annie just in her underwear, periodically soiling various pieces of furniture (thank God for hardwood floors!). She would occasionally poop in the potty but really just didn't seem to "get it". I should also mention that we have one bathroom in our house. And that one bathroom is upstairs. I was originally against the training potty and wanted Annie to learn to go in the bathroom, so imagine a hugely pregnant woman trying to sprint up the stairs, holding a 35 pound toddler that is mid-urination.


I gave up trying about a month before John was born. At that point I figured she would regress after the baby got here and what's the point? All the internets had also told me that "when they are ready, they are ready", but I had just ignored that little gem up to that point because I love nothing more than trying to bend a toddler to my will. It's very easy and rewarding work. And I inwardly doubted that there was any chance a child would, on their own without constant prodding from their parents, willingly just start using the potty. I mean, in what world does that happen?


I joked that she would pick the absolute worst time to decide she was ready start potty training: right when the baby got home.


Be careful what you joke about.


So about 3 weeks after John was born, guess who started taking an interest in using the potty?


Here's the good part: she really did just kind of start on her own. One day, while I was nursing John, I heard Annie call out "Mommy, I went potty!!!". I took this to mean that I needed to change her diaper. I finished up with John and went into the other room, and to my shock and awe, Annie was standing next to the potty, pants and pull-up down, and #1 in the potty.


Surely this was a fluke.


But it kept happening. Sure, there were some set-backs and accidents, and I still get nervous going to places where I don't know exactly where the bathrooms are, but I feel like we are out of the woods on this particular issue. So, in my effort to help future parents with potty training, here are my "tips":


-Put a potty in every room of your house. Possibly two in rooms that are larger than an average size room. Get over the fact that someone will likely be pooping in the same room where food is prepared (thankfully, given the size of our house, we have avoided having a potty in the kitchen, though it was considered at a point).


-invest in a LOT of candy. And booze. Most of it is for you. Reward going on the potty. Don't worry that you will have to give them candy for the rest of their lives. It stops eventually. Though I do find myself craving skittles every time Annie pees now.


-forget about dignity. At some point, you will be at a park and the bathrooms are still inexplicably closed even though it's mid-April and the playgrounds are packed and your child will start showing the signs that a poop is on the horizon. Driving home is not an option and you don't have a change of clothes (see: Be Prepared below). It's time for the public deuce. I had seen this executed by my nieces on the side of the road and once, impressively, off the side of a boat (stay classy, Loyd/Hagemann/Erwin/Harkins family!), but never really thought about it myself. Thankfully, children require very little persuading to poop outside of the house. So this is more about you and your dignity. But if you have given birth, it's likely you don't have a shred of dignity left, so this will seem like no big deal. It will happen. If you know the bathroom is locked, scout out a semi-private poop spot ahead of time and be prepared to bolt at the first sign of butt clenching. Relieving yourself outside is really a life skill, so just think of it that way and try really hard not to make eye contact with any of the other mothers on the playground post-poop. They know what you just did.


and the most important one:


-BE PREPARED. Always, always have with you a change of pants, underwear, wipes, training potties, and Xanax. And if you are so inclined and very disturbed by the public poop scenario described above, rent a trailer and a port-o-potty to haul around behind your minivan.


And I guess I should end with the advice that I ignored but seemed to be most accurate: you can't force it. They will get it eventually and it's not worth the struggle to force the issue.


Happy Potty Training!!!!

We are alive, almost 4 months and almost 3 years

Sooooo. What's up?

Remember us? We are neck deep in baby/toddler land over here. Dare I admit this in a semi-public forum (semi only because there are four people that read this blog), but John is sleeping through the night. Like real-deal sleeping through. 7:30-6:30. Somehow I am still only getting 6 hours of sleep a night, but whatevs. It's good for me mentally to be able to say that at least one person in this house is getting sleep.

Rick and I joke that John is our "fake baby". He is possibly the most laid-back human baby on the planet. If he didn't smile and laugh in response to our fabulously hilarious antics, I might think something is wrong. But thankfully with these second babies, I seem to worry a bit less. I mean, I haven't gotten a hand cramp from furiously searching the internet for mysterious infant maladies like I did with Annie, so that's a step in the right direction. No?

John is still nursing, which is FINALLY going well. As you can see from his size, we are no longer worrying about him getting enough nourishment. Homeboy is large. We are almost in 6-9 month clothing and only using size 1 diapers because we have a ton to get through, but he is practically busting out of those bad boys. He eats 5 times a day now, usually at 7, 10, 1, 4, and 7. I only mention this for documentation purposes.

It is crazy to me how much you forget about babies in the down time between. I find myself looking at the information from when Annie was a baby to see what we should be doing now. This is bizarre because we certainly didn't know what we were doing the first time around, but yet it seems as if I know even less now. I am the Benjamin Button of parenting knowledge.

Annie is awesome. She is hilarious. She is starting to pick up fun new phases and is a shockingly excellent mimic. If I make a noise out of exasperation or frustration, she will say "mom, why you say (and then make the exact noise)?" She has gone from being the world's worst eater to maybe almost the world's third worst eater. I have finally just started rolling with it because I think she's genuinely not hungry. I mean, sometimes she won't even eat ice cream or cookies. Thankfully Mom and Dad are around in these circumstances to make sure this stuff doesn't go to waste.

That's all I have time for now, but eventually I will have both the mental capacity and the time to blog on the regular again. Until then, I might just start sending pics. That's all you people really want anyway. There's a surprising number of pictures of me in the images below. Not sure how I feel about that but I know I will be thankful for them later.

Time travel

To the person that thought it was wise to bump the clocks forward or back two times a year, I say...


EFFFF YOOOOOUUUU!!!! (sorry Gaddy)


I remember when I was 24 and I was out at the bar at 3:00 in the morning (sorry Dad) one cold night in November and it was closing time. Then, like magic, it was all of a sudden 2:00 am again and we didn't have to go home. It was the closest I have ever come to time travel, which I normally hate. It was also the only time in my life I have appreciated the time change. Of course, I was cursing the time change inventors the next day as I slammed my double cheeseburger and super-sized fries in an effort to get rid of my hangover, but I digress.


So what I am trying to say is that I have never, while sober, liked the whole time change thing. And then, you add kids into the mix and it's like those time change inventors are actually wagging their middle fingers right in your face and saying, "Hey, glad you had that sleep schedule all worked out, but...better kiss that whole scene goodbye because now your kid's going to be waking up at 4:30 in the morning for the next five months until you finally get them to sleep until a semi-normal hour and just when you settle into a new routine, we'll change things up again and they will be up until all hours of the evening. We hate you. Good luck."


And since Annie's on a strict circadian rhythm sleep cycle and lives and dies (or sleeps and wakes) by if it is dark or light outside, I expect us to be doubly screwed. But because I am missing the part of my brain that can figure out if I am going to be early or late if I miss the time change (I assume this is the same part of my brain that cannot figure out how Marty McFly can both be in the parking lot of the mall in the Delorian as well as watching himself from a hill overlooking the mall parking lot), I can't ever anticipate exactly how I will be screwed by the time change. Should I start moving the bed time up for this change, or moving it back? Will we be up late or up early?


I also feel like we should be able to opt out of the change. Certain people should not have to comply. Specifically the change where we lose an hour (I think that's this one). I am already getting a max of six hours of sleep a night. The last thing I need is to lose an hour because of some arbitrary shift in the clocks likely decided to be a good idea 100 years ago by some childless drunks trying to figure out how they could plow the fields for an extra hour a day. I would gladly get up and harvest corn before the light of day rather than watch 15 episodes of Calliou before the sun even comes up.


But, it will happen. And until I run for President, there's not much that I can do about it. If anyone wants to call me any time to gripe about this, feel free. I am sure we'll be up.


Edited to add: If you really want to make your brain bleed, think about Indiana and how they don't acknowledge the time change. It is both brilliant and terrifying. How anyone ever knows what time it is around there is beyond me. Or do they always know? Seriously, I might have a stroke....

Thank you-2.5 Months

Oh John,

I am so sorry. You are so neglected on this blog. But I wanted to take a second (because that's really all we have these days) to say thank you. Thank you for being such an incredibly good baby. You are so sweet and are always smiling. This could partially be because your big sister is constantly one millimeter away from your nose screaming "SMILE JOHN!!!!!! JOHNNNNN, SMIIIILLLLLLE!" Every once in a while you manage to get your little baby fingers tangled in her hair. That'll teach her to get so close.

I hear these horror stories from mothers, telling of how their baby can't be put down, wouldn't sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time, wouldn't stop crying, had colic, wouldn't let anyone else feed them/wouldn't take a bottle, wouldn't sleep unless they were held...the list is endless. All the while I am holding my sweet little boy a little tighter while they eye you like a hungry person eyes a sandwich. I really do feel like we won the baby lottery. Again, thank you.

You transitioned to Jen's house very easily. A little too easily, if you ask me. Part of me was hoping to hear that you wanted your Mom, but you are so easy going that it wasn't to be. I guess I am even more happy that you are so content all the time. You have started taking a monster nap in the afternoon from around 10:30-1:30. Unfortunately, there are only a few days of the week where your slumber isn't interrupted with us throwing you into your car seat to shuttle your big sister somewhere. You second babies get no respect.

You are still in size 1 diapers, you weighed 13 lbs 6 oz (70th %) and were 24 inches long (83rd %) at your 2 month check up. Your head was a whopping 16.5 inches (96%). Doctor Eaton confirmed that you are perfect and have no issues growing. Music to my ears.

You are a great sleeper and go to bed around 7 each night. We then get up for one feeding at around 3-4 and then back to bed until 7. Lately you have been so charming after our middle of the night session and smile and coo at me. I am on to you and know you are trying to keep me up, and believe me, mister, it is very tempting. But no one wins when Mom is tired.



Oh look, so sweet.....

.....until she looks like she wants to bite your head off.

My little man.

Let's be honest, these are going to be more around the half month mark. 2.5 months old in this pic.

You hate the swaddle, but can't sleep without it. Or can't sleep for more than 15 seconds at a time.

Basically, life is starting to feel like "normal" again. I feel like our family is complete with you in it. Thank you for that, also.

I love you, sweet boy.

~Mom

6 Weeks.

Dear John,

It was recently subtly pointed out to me that I have been slacking in the blogging department, and that you were the party taking the most direct hit with the lack of documentation of your early days. For this, I am sorry. The truth is, there is just so much MORE these days. More laundry, more picking up, more feeding (you like to take your time), more meal planning, more more more. But there is also a bit more appreciation this time around. With you, my beautiful second child, I am hyper aware of the fact that I will NEVER get this time back. This time with you where it's just us and I don't have work, and some days we don't have your sister, and because there are no degrees of warmth outside, we don't even have the pressure to DO ANYTHING, except to lay around and stare at each other and for me to take in every little bit of your beautiful baby self.

You really are quite handsome. What can I say? Your Dad and I make some pretty good looking babies. There are times you look so much like your sister did as an infant that I find myself calling you Annie. It's amazing how your brain recalls images that had long since been tucked away until you have something that brings it all rushing back.

And it did all come rushing back. How a baby's head feels tucked under your chin, how you have to be so so careful with their little tender bodies, how MANY DIAPERS you go through when they are this age, how it almost feels like it's not worth getting in bed at 11 at night because you are just going to have to get up in an hour and a half.

But with you it feels different. I feel more calm about what we are doing. Well, except for the breast feeding part. That took us a bit to get into a groove there. And that's an understatement. I might have had some sort of post-partum depression that manifested itself as a manic obsession with getting you to breast feed "properly". Once I bent myself to your will, things turned around and we have been much better since. Never get in a fight with an infant. You will lose and it won't be pretty.

Don't let my lack of writing about you make you think I have not wanted to. I have written 100s of posts in my head about nursing, differences in baby #2 from your first, priorities, obsessed big sisters, the holidays, etc., but every time I think about putting you down and picking up the computer to write one, you win. Every time. So while you were neglected on this blog, you were definitely not neglected in real life.

I have two more weeks of maternity leave. I am not sure where it went. I am struggling between trying to jam all the little projects I have wanted to complete into those two weeks and then wanting to hold you and snuggle you the entire time.

But I will keep reminding myself that the sorting, folding, and cleaning (and blogging) will always be there. But my little baby-my last baby-won't be this tiny baby for long, and the rest can wait.

I love you, sweet boy.

~Mom