Monday, June 29, 2009


Danny's family has been on vacation so I've been taking the opportunity to take the boys on outings every day.

Wednesday, we joined friends Jane and Gideon at the zoo. We intended to start with the elephant baths, but we missed them. All the elephants were still really dirty so I think maybe they just didn't get bathed, but whatever.

So, we were in the elephant house with the boys, looking at the elephants. They were kind of more interested in the ginormous crowd of people than the ridiculously huge and cute elephants, but they were appropriately awed for a few moments.

As I was watching the elephants, I was thinking what a cool job it would be to care for them every day. Unquestionably the worst part, I thought, would be cleaning up the enormous piles of elephant dung that they left in massive quantities. I mean, I deal with quite a bit of poop, but nothing really on the scale of elephant dung or scraping said dung up off the ground. (This is what we call foreshadowing, folks.)

That night, Oscar was his regular squirrely self; alternately refusing dinner and jamming it into his mouth all at once; spilling water all over his pants, making me take off his pants and just leave him pantless through dinner; yelling about poop and diapers and MILES LAUGHING! etc.

Oscar is at a stage where he really doesn't like his hands dirty, as in I have to wipe his hand immediately after dinner, brush dirt and wet sand off of them when he's playing outside. So when Oscar began screaming in a panicked voice "POOP! POOP!" and waving his hands at me, I was a bit alarmed.

There was indeed poop on is hands. And smeared on his legs. It seems he pooped and, since he was sans pants, he reached into his diaper to check it out. He didn't like what he found and tried to wipe it off on his legs. Then he tried to wipe it off ON ME. NO, okay? Just no.

We were on our way up for baths anyways, so I just picked him up and held him at arms length up the stairs. I took off his diaper, cleaned up his poop, and left him naked while I turned on the water for his bath.

I peeked in his room and he was chatting away and playing with Mr. Potato Head. I filled Miles' infant tub, turned off the water in the big tub. I popped Oscar in the big tub and tossed in some toys. Nelson drew the short straw, so he had to bathe Oscar.

I proceeded to bathe and dress Miles, and then I went into Oscar's room for something, maybe to get his PJs ready, or possibly I was just passing through on my way to the bathroom (which is connected to Oscar's room) so Nelson could say goodnight to Miles.

And that's when I saw the pile of crap on the floor. It was right in the middle of the floor, so I don't know how I avoided stepping in it earlier. It was like a mini-elephant dung patty, several feet away from where he was playing with Mr. Potato Head (being that you don't shit where you play and all.)

One diaperless minute, and he craps on the floor. My kid is officially a floor shitter.

I had to scrape it up, and use a toothpick to get it from between the floorboards. Seriously, you guys. Seriously.

This occasion marked the exact moment I became ready for potty training. I mean, if I'm cleaning up crap off the floor, I want to at least be working our way towards the toilet. So, bring on the floor poop, Oscar, you little floor shitter. BRING IT ON.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

RTT: Sleep, Silence, and Sweet Dreams

It's Tuesday. You know the drill. Drop by Keely's, get a button, join the fun.randomtuesday

*CIO Night the First: Okay, so I was reading to Oscar since he'd been asking for me lately and Miles fell asleep in Nelson's arms without nursing. So, we decided that if he woke I'd nurse him once so he wouldn't be hungry. He woke at 8, an hour after going down, and I nursed him. He woke again around 9pm and cried HARD for about 30 minutes, then stopped. Nelson went to check on Miles, found him on his belly, and turned him over. Which of course woke him up. He cried for another two minutes, then slept all. night. long. Woke at 6AM, nursed, slept until 8AM. It was hard, but we all slept all night which was AWESOME.

*Oscar couldn't sleep last night. Not because of his crying sibling, either. I discovered that his soother had run out of batteries. I knew the batteries were fading and they finally gave out yesterday. We replaced them, Oscar listened to his soother for about an hour and fell asleep.

*Sweet silence, all night long.

*Oscar repeat everything we say these days. EVERYTHING. It's interesting because it kind of gives me an audio window into what I say all day long. Among popular phrases, "Quiet!" (to the dogs); "Come on, Danny!"; "Let's go, bud!"; and "What happened?" Also, when I yawn, Oscar will say, "Momma tired," which makes me sad because I probably say that 100 times a day too. Other favorite phrases include, "I found it," "I turn light on," "I fine," "I okay," (these last two when he falls or bumps his head), "I go outside," "Ta-da!" and "Miles sleeping, SHHHH" (always shouted). Oscar's also phasing out calling me Momma and starting to call me Mom.

*This past week or so, Danny has been repeating Oscar. So far, it's only "Hi, Mom!" and "Bye-bye Momma! Bye-bye baby!" but it's making me redouble by efforts to watch the language.

*I had a really cool, weird dream last night and I can't remember any of it. Only that it was cool and weird. I hate when that happens.

*I'm a lucid dreamer, so basically when I'm dreaming I KNOW I'm dreaming and can manipulate my dreams while I'm in them. This is the best. I cannot, however, decide what I'm going to dream about in advance of sleep. I can only change things once I'm dreaming. Like if something scary is happening I can just unhappen it. My dream-self will just say, "Hey, this is a dream. If I don't want to be eaten by zombies, then the zombies are gone," and then the zombies are gone. If the zombies keep coming back though, I can just wake myself up. Dream-self just closes her eyes and when I open them I'm awake for real.

*I also dream in perfect vision (even though I've worn glasses since I was eight) and in full color. Most people dream in black and white.

*When I was a kid I was terrified of the dark and I had two recurring nightmares. In one, a witch would fly into my window and attack me and in the other I would be swarmed by rats and when I went to my mom for help, she would hold me down so the rats could eat me. Creepy, right? I'm still terrified of the dark and rats.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Six Months and Sleepless

My beautiful, funny, smiling little Miles is six months old. He is fantastic. Everything a six-month-old should be. He's rolling all over the place, sitting without support, laughing at his older brother (he laughs at everything, really.) He's finally started eating solids. Like opening his mouth for them and everything. But, he's also stopped sleeping.

Oscar did the same exact thing at the same exact time. What is it with my children and their refusal to sleep after six months of age? He wakes almost every hour, hour and a half, two hours if I'm lucky. He will not go back to sleep with simple rocking. He must get into the big bed. He must NURSE.

And, he's not even hungry. He's only suckling - not really eating. Breastfeeding moms know what I mean. There is a huge difference between a baby that's nursing to eat and a baby that's nursing for comfort. It feels different. It is different.

It's my own fault. I nurse my babies to sleep. I know it's the WRONG WAY because they don't learn to self soothe. And this is why we've ended up here, with a baby who goes to be at 7:30pm, and wakes at 9pm, 11pm, 12:30am, 1:30am, 2:20am, 4:00am, 5:30am. And I'm not exaggerating. That was our night last night.

He wakes up and he just screams and cries and kicks his legs. And if we don't go to him RIGHT AWAY he just gets angrier and angrier. We bring him to the bed and he's asleep almost instantly. I talked to the pediatrician about it on Friday. "You might want to consider letting him cry." I already knew it was time, but I've been trying not to face it.

With Oscar, this pattern continued until he was nine months old. NINE MONTHS OLD. That's when we finally decided to cry-it-out. Well, I don't have three more months in me this time. Cry-it-out starts tonight.

So, when Miles wakes at 9pm, we will let him rage until he falls back asleep. It will be hard, but it needs to be done. I am exhausted. The all night breast feeding and repeated wakings are killing me. The first night with Oscar took just under 30 minutes of crying and it was incredibly difficult. But he slept all night long. The second and third nights he cried less and less. The fourth night, he didn't wake at all. He started napping better too. I hope things with Miles go as smoothly.

I know CIO is not for everyone. I respect the fact that different methods of sleep training (or no sleep training even) work for different people. CIO works for us, or at least it has worked in the past, so we are going for it again. What I'm trying to say, is keep your mean spirited comments to yourself. I don't need them. I believe CIO works, but that doesn't mean it's easy or I like hearing my kid cry. It just means we need some goddamn sleep around here and if this is the only way we can get it, then that's what we're gonna do.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Some Days I Need a Referee

One day last week, Danny commences SCREAMING and grabbing his diaper, indicating that a diaper change is immediately necessary. As I'm scooping up the supplies and assuring Danny things will be okay, Oscar beings demanding that I hold him.

Obviously I can't hold him as Danny is very clearly in dire need of a diaper change, so I tell Oscar, "Momma will hold you later. I have to change Danny. Danny's sad."

"Danny sad? Danny sad? Momma hold you! Momma hold you!" And Oscar starts freaking out.

I make the decision to just ignore Oscar because his behavior is escalating to a tantrum and there is really nothing I can do. Danny is totally freaking out at this point, and it's only been like 30 seconds, so he clearly needs to be dealt with first.

I lay Danny down and open his diaper to find awful, nasty, messy diarrhea that is irritating what already was an inflamed diaper rash. The poor guy is in quite a bit of pain, hence the freaking out and Extreme Screaming.

At just this moment of diarrhea discovery, I hear Oscar shriek with glee as he lands on my back. He will not be ignored! So there I am, with a very poopy diaper and toddler beneath me and a 30 pound monkey hanging off my neck and kicking me in the kidneys.

I sort of lean to the side and manage to shake him off, but he's back on me in a flash! So, I try to clean Danny's bottom with Oscar on my back, but it's just not working. Danny is really screaming because the cleaning is painful and he's kicking his legs and writhing and threatening to get diarrhea all over me and my couch. And Oscar is on my back, pulling at my hair, trying to reach around and grab my glasses, and laughing like a maniac.

I tried to shake him off again, but it only worked the first time because I caught him unawares. He was ready this time and just clung tighter. I had to literally pry him off of me, with one hand, and he landed on the floor with a bit of a THUNK but was fine.

At this point, I noticed that he was getting onto my back by climbing onto the ottoman and launching himself off of my laptop. And in a second he's on me again, laughing and kicking and crushing my larynx in an attempt to get me to wrestle.

I pry him off me again and he's immediately trying to climb back up the ottoman, "I CLIMB! I CLIMB!" Now, I only have one arm, because the other is trying to clean the crap off a screaming toddler who's in pain. I take my free arm, block the climb, and scoop up the laptop, stowing it safely under the couch.

Then, Oscar is on my back again, laughing and just generally having a great time. I tuck my chin to protect my neck and just let him stay there, so I can get poor Danny's diaper changed. His bottom was clean and covered with cream by this point, but he was still awfully upset.

I get the clean diaper on Danny and he's all suited up, but still crying pretty significantly. As I begin to comfort him, Oscar makes a lunge, "DIAPER! Danny poop? Poo-poo diaper? HAHAHAHAH!" I snatch up the dirty diaper before Oscar can get a hold of it and hustle it to the trash with Oscar hot on my heels the whole way.

By the time I'd washed my hands and made it back into the living room, Danny found his way to the toddler chair and had calmed down. Oscar no longer wanted to be held. And I was in desperate need of martini. Extra dirty and extra dry. Which is kind of fitting when you think about it.

Sunday, June 14, 2009


From this:
To this:
To this:

Happy second birthday, little man. You make my day everyday and it keeps getting better and better. I love you and am so proud to be your mom.

Thursday, June 11, 2009


I had the most fantastic day today with my mom and the boys at Port Discovery today. Port Discovery is the children's museum in Baltimore and if you are ever around these parts, I highly recommend it.

Anyways, it was an awesome day. We got there early; Oscar and Miles both napped for the 30 minute drive (note: it took me 30 minutes to drive to the museum 27 miles away in Baltimore and it also took me 30 minutes to get to the zoo in DC less than five miles from my house the previous day. Gotta love DC!); there was almost no traffic; my Garmin was spot on. Things were going great. Oscar loved the sensory room and the water room and didn't even meltdown when we left.

Because he was EXTRA good, we stopped in the McDonald's next to the museum for lunch. At one point I asked Oscar if he was having a good day and he smiled and nodded and kicked his feed and said, "Umm-hmm!" It was great.

We brought the single stroller with us to get Oscar from the parking garage to the museum and back. I had Miles in my Ergo. And he was a prince. Positively princely. I nursed and changed him at the museum and he was just as happy as a clam.

At McDonald's, I took him out of the carrier and put him in the stroller while we all ate. He was cooing and smiling and laughing up a storm. The other patrons were eating him up. I though to myself, "Wow, he's so happy. I wonder if he pooped, " because who's happier than a baby stewing in his own feces?

He was wearing this really cute green shirt and shorts. He pulled his legs up to grab his feet when I noticed it. A pool of runny, mustard yellow baby crap sitting in the leg of his pants. It was on the verge of spilling over onto the stroller.

I grabbed some napkins to mop up the mess, but if you have kids you know you can't really "mop up" pools baby crap. All you can really do is smear it around and make the mess worse.

So, I did that. And then I took him to the bathroom and found out that I had no wipes in my bag. What am I, a fucking novice parent here? I am out in public with two children under the age of two. I usually carry and entire package of baby wipes. Alas, not today.

And, of course there are no paper towels in this bathroom. And the faucet is set too far back on the sink to just hose him down. Awesome.

The changing station was in the handicap accessible restroom, so I come to the conclusion that I'm just going to have to wipe him with dry toilet paper and do the best I can. Which is great, because everyone knows that when a parent is "doing the best they can" in a tough situation, things go to shit (heh) pretty quickly.

I pull him out of the stroller the pool of poop spills out and SPLATS! on the floor of the restroom. His pants are so covered in poop, had they not been a gift from Nelson's mom I'd have trashed them.

There is poop everywhere. EVERYWHERE. Except his diaper, which apparently shifted while he was in the carrier allowing all the poop to end up outside of the diaper. I've got poop up to my elbows and Miles has poop down to his toes. And it's sticky. Even the fresh diaper somehow has baby poop all over it and I need to get out another clean diaper. Don't even get me started on the stroller (dripping in poop.) And I'm using MCDONALD'S ONE PLY TOILET PAPER to clean it up. Did I mention that this particular bathroom doubled as a meat locker and was a frosty five below?

After fourteen days and ten trees worth of toilet paper, Miles is covered with a dried yellow sheen of baby crap and I accept that this is the best I can do. He is screaming because he's freezing. I decide not to put him in a fresh outfit but to instead leave him in his miraculously clean T-shirt and diaper because I'm that classy.

I wipe down the stroller to the best of my ability and place a burp cloth over most of the stain and we head back out to where my mom and Oscar have both finished eating. Oscar is practically in college at this point. I carry him back to the car and mom pushes Miles in the stroller and I load everyone up with relative ease, even though I am so goddamn annoyed that I seem incapable of going one day without being covered in someone else's shit.

I mean, really. I moved Miles up to larger diapers and then it shifts in the carrier? It's like I can't win. At least he did crap it out while in the carrier. So I guess it could have been worse. But it was still pretty shitty.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

RTT: Oh, Baby!

If you don't know about Keely and her Random Tuesday Thoughts, you must be living under a rock, so I suggest you take your lizard ass over to the Un Mom STAT and get with it.

*So, ohmygod I opened my reader this AM to the best news ever. After more than two years of trying, Xbox and ET are pregnant! I wept. Go by his blog and give him a virtual high five. Or ass slap. Whichever you go for (he'll dig both). And, not that he needs any blog promotion by me, if you haven't been following he and his wife's attempt at conception these past two years, you are really missing out. He's funny, poignant, eternally optimistic, and a great writer. Also, he thinks my kids are cute which scores him extra points.

*Remember how I was complaining about my whining, clingy infant last week? Yeah, well he ended up having some nasty endovirus that gave him a fever and blisters on his throat. On top of that, he kept vomiting up Tylenol and Motrin so I couldn't get his fever down. Thankfully he's back to his laughing, cheery self.

*So, the dreamy roofer's bid is not the one we are going with. We're going with the lowest bid, which is like $2K lower than the dreamy roofer's bid. I'm sad, but $1700 is much easier to swallow than $3600. Now I have to call the contractors we didn't select and tell them. I hate that part.

*My mom's flying in tomorrow, yay! I'm hoping for some fresh stories. Maybe I should live blog her visit?

*We're officially moving Miles up into size four diapers. Which would be awesome if we weren't also officially moving Oscar into size five diapers the same week. It would have been so nice to only have to carry one size in my diaper bag, but I guess my main goal is poop/pee containment and there has been way more leakage around here lately than I'm comfortable with. The amount I'm comfortable with being zero.

*Speaking of leakage, I had Miles in the Exersaucer while I was vacuuming this morning and he got super cranky. I went over and pulled him out and his feet were wet. And so were his pants, and the bottom of the Exersaucer. It was pee. But do you know was wasn't wet? His diaper.

*CSI NY is officially my favorite of all the CSIs. I knew Miami is the big fave, but I just can't stomach Caruso.

*Miles can sit up by himself for maybe a minute or two. Oscar is speaking in two, three, and even four word sentences. Geniuses, I tell you. I continue to be in awe of them.

*I'm trying to decide whether or not to take the boys with Nelson to Wyoming next month. On the one hand, if I don't go I'll be here alone with the kids all week. On the other hand, it's freaking Wyoming. What the hell are the kids and I going to do in Wyoming? Maybe I should take them to visit my friend in CA instead? We'd at least have stuff to do. But then, I have to travel across the country with two small children BY MYSELF. I don't know if I have the chops for that.

* A parting shot of Oscar watching the boob tube. Please ignore the filthy electronic gaurd. And yes he's pantless.


Monday, June 8, 2009

The Boob Tube

I don't know about you, but we love T.V. around these parts. Growing up, T.V. time was family time in my house. The television was on all day long, and I'm not exaggerating. We watched Saturday Morning Cartoons, Scooby Doo, You Can't Do That on Television, The Greatest American Hero, The A-Team, M.A.S.H., Bosom Buddies, Dukes of Hazzard, 21 Jump Street, and I could go on and on.

Nelson also watched a fair bit of T.V. growing up as well. They actually watched T.V. at dinner. His parents still do. In truth, Nelson is a little bit in love with T.V. to this day. He will watch anything at any time. And, when he's watching T.V., he's like in a trance and it's nearly impossible to interrupt him. Even during commercials. ESPECIALLY during commercials.

Given all of this, it was never a realistic expectation around these parts that we'd be keeping Oscar away from T.V. until he turned two. In fact, he started watching, really watching T.V. at around 16 or 17 months, when I was a million years pregnant and unable to play with him like I used to.

During this time, until Miles was about two months old, Oscar watched a crap load of T.V. I basically let him watch whatever he wanted. And I did not then and still do not feel bad about it. I could not play with him, it was too cold to go outside, I had a wee one.

We've really weaned off the T.V. these days, though. Danny is back so he has someone to play with. I'll let the boys watch a morning or afternoon video if they are particularly squirrely and it's raining or too hot, or if they are cranky and tired. I let Oscar watch a movie in the evenings while I prepare dinner.

But we don't have any T.V. RULES, per se. I am particular about what I let him watch (yes to Sesame Street, Micky Mouse Clubhouse, and Handy Manny; but no to Sponge Bob, Barney, and the Wiggles) but not really about the amount. He plays significantly more than he watches T.V. He's social and verbal and active. I'm actually pretty lax about it because I find the bigger deal I make of these types of things, the more he wants to do them. At the same time, I do not want him becoming a T.V. addict or a couch potato, so I am careful to make sure we don't have the T.V. on all day long.

I'm wondering about other parents, though. Do you have T.V. rules at your house? How many hours do you let your kids watch? What shows are permitted/not permitted? Did you/are you waiting until your kid is two to indroduce the tube?

Really, I just want to know how I measure up.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Uncontained Chaos

I've joked before about how I feel like my whole job is barley containing the chaos surrounding me. It's not really a joke. I often feel like things around here are just a hairsbreadth away completely overwhelming me. But I've gotten pretty good at keeping it together. Dare I say most days things around here run quite seamlessly.

Until they don't.

See, the thing with barely containing the chaos is that it only takes one leeeetle thing to throw everything out of whack. Like, say, both of my children refusing to nap for two days straight. Technically, that's two things, but I'm equipped to deal with one non-napper. I am NOT equipped to deal with two non-nappers. As has become painfully apparent this week.

The problem is, they NEED TO NAP. Not only because napping makes Oscar and Miles happy and fun and pleasant to be around but because it also makes ME happy and fun and pleasant to be around. It gives me a break, time to breathe, relax, read, blog, whatever. Even when they don't nap at the same time having one less kids is akin to having a million less things to do. It makes a HUGE difference.

The way things usually work is that I get up first, shower, eat, make Nelson's lunch, put away dishes, etc. until the boys wake up. Sometimes one or both of them will get up early, but I can still get most of my crap done.

During the day, I vacuum and toss in loads of laundry throughout the day; I vacuum while they play; I do loads of laundry at the beginnings/ends of naps; I fold clothes while they play. I start dinner shortly before Danny's mom come to get him, usually with all three crowding around me in the kitchen or running up and down the hallway. This system works well for me. It really, really works.

With my boys not napping, this system just does not work AT ALL. Miles, he needs to take like three or four naps a day because he is still very wee. And when he doesn't? He's a whining mess that wants to be held CONSTANTLY.

Oscar is a different story. Oscar will be fine with no nap, until like 4pm. Then he turns into some kind of demon spawn that won't listen to a word I say, pushes and shoves Danny and Miles, cries at the drop of a hat over nothing, falls down and cries like a million times, demands chocolate and chips and movies and AHHHHHHH! And, on top of this, Miles is a whining mess who must be in my arms at all times and totally freaks out when I put him down to, say, change his brother's poop explosion of a diaper. Oh, and the house is disgusting because I can't vacuum with one hand and I'm on like my last pair of clean underwear because I can't do laundry because that would involve leaving the toddlers unattended for five minutes which I can't do because they might kill the baby or themselves and the sink is full of dishes and ants because I also can't load/unload the dishwasher with one hand and ohmygodwhatthehellisgoingonsomeonesavemeahhhhhhh!

Example: Yesterday, Oscar did not nap for the second day in a row, and neither did Miles. I was determined to have a good day anyways so we broke out the pool and played outside for like two hours. We came in and watched Sesame Street, since Oscar and Danny were both too exhausted to do much else (but would not nap, OHMYGODNONAPNO!)

Shortly after Sesame Street ended ended, Danny began jumping on the couch. This is expressly against the rules as they could fall off the couch and sustain a major head injury. So, when they jump on the couch, I take them off the couch. So as I was taking Danny off the couch ("We don't jump on the couch, Danny") Oscar began jumping on the couch, "I JUMPIN! I JUMPIN! FUN!" And with that, "FUN" Oscar flung him self backward,thinking he'd land in a heap on the couch. But what he did was land on the arm of the couch and do a back flip onto the floor, landing squarely on his head.

You can imagine how that went over.

(Also, please keep in mind, Miles is totally whining the whole time and absolutely lost his shit when I had to put him down and get the boys off the couch and spend time comforting Oscar. I had to pick him up immediately upon putting Oscar down.)

I comforted him (no major injuries sustained) and he chilled out. Until Nelson got home. Then he began totoally freaking out. He wanted chips and chocolate and chips and chocolate and WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaH!

Thanks be to god that Nelson arrived home and rescued me. That's not to say things went more smoothly. In fact, the situation declined quite rapidly. I got all teary, "They haven't napped in TWO DAYS!* I'm so exhausted, I've gotten nothing done, bah!" He swept up Miles and went to find Oscar, who was wrecking something somewhere, with Danny in tow.**

Danny's mom arrived shortly after Nelson and scooped up Danny. Nelson was holding Miles and we were all in the kitchen, Oscar included. I was trimming fish for dinner. Oscar was demanding chips (we keep a case of Baked Lays in the house and he knows it.) Nelson obliged but NOT THE RIGHT ONES! WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAA! We ignored him and he flailed about on the floor.

Then, Oscar proceeds to wedge himself between me and the counter and cling to my legs, sobbing, "Momma hold you! Momma hold you!" While I'm trimming the fish. I finish, wash up, and pick him up. He is happy. Nelson finishes preparing dinner (starts the rice, puts the fish on the grill) while I nurse Miles and try also hold Oscar.

He hops off my lap and proceeds to go back to the kitchen and freak out for chips again. Nelson gives him the same exact bag that he so violently rejected 5 minutes prior, and Oscar gladly accepts it. I tell Nelson to pop in Cars and sit with the boys while I finish making dinner.

We don't even invite Oscar to the table for dinner. He turns his nose up at the veggie burger I offer and just watches Cars while Nelson and I enjoy a relatively quiet dinner, passing Miles between us. It's downright pleasant.

After we finish, we find Oscar, passed out in his chair, covered in chips. I put him to bed, unabated and fully clothed. Miles passes out 30 minutes later. My darling husband picks up toys and cleans up from dinner.

It was a long, long day.

Today is already better. Miles napped this morning. Oscar is napping now. I've done laundry and dishes and vacuumed. The pest control guy should be here any minute. I'm reigning it back in and I feel good.

I can't think of a good way to wrap this up. But, the next time Oscar doesn't nap, I'll be wearing ear plugs. And Oscar will be wearing a helmet.

*Danny napped well both days
**They were just in the kitchen, playing with measuring cups and spoons, which I knew.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

RTT: Contractors, Drug Dealers, and Dogs (Oh, my!)

It's Tuesday again and I'm blathering on about nothingness. You can thank Keely.

*Oscar's head lumps? Yeah, the first one was some gigantic insect bite and it was draining and causing the second one, a swollen lymph node. Both are gone now and I get the award for most overreacting mother of the week. But, in my defense, they were on his head, and heads are very important.

*I've been playing general contractor for the past two weeks, collecting bids on replacing our porch roof. The first one came in at nearly $4,500 and if you're wondering, that is SUPER HIGH. I forwarded the bid to Nelson with this message, "I just crapped my pants." Now, I don't know a lot about roofing, but I do know that plywood, shingles, and a half a day's labor do not cost $4,500. Unless they are shingling my roof in solid gold. And they're not. (Don't worry; this bid did not come in from the dream roofer. I'm holding out that his bid will be lower.)

*For Oscar second birthday, we're having it at a nature center. There will be a wild animal show and we are going to make masks. There are going to be maybe a dozen kids, and I'm skipping goody bags because I feel like the masks are enough. Am I right? Are they enough or am I just being lazy?

*Conversation between me and Nelson on the way home from the hair dresser:

Nelson: Look at that car pulled over. It's being searched. Looks like for drugs.

Jenni: OF COURSE it's being searched for drugs. We're on XXX Road and it's a Lexus. With flip up doors. Those doors are ridiculous.

Nelson: I know, look at that car. The doors open up and it's a Lexus, not a Ferarri. You know you're a drug dealer if your car doors open up. I mean, who else has car doors that open up?

Jenni: Time travelers?

*I saw Marley and Me this weekend and it totally made me feel bad for hating my dogs so much. I mean, I don't really hate them, but they do get on my nerves. If you've seen the movie it's kind of my life. But with TWO Marleys. Yes, they chew less now, but when we first got them they destroyed magazines, throw pillows, books. We'd come home to a living room covered in stuffing and dog shit. Thank god they are over that. Now, they are constantly barking and waking up my kids, knocking Oscar over in their excitement, and just generally being in the way. However, watching Marley made me realize I really will miss them when they are gone.

*I'm thinking of starting another blog. Maybe a review blog where I review things, but not really products. For example, I'd review toddlers or Mondays or blue skies or my husband or movies you've seen, stuff like that. It would be funny (hopefully). Or has this been done/over done? Or, should I just incorporate this as part of my current blog? Decisions, decisions.

Pop over to the Un Mom for more RTT.

Monday, June 1, 2009

Jenni v. Dentist: Jenni Wins!

Holy crap you guys I had the MOST triumphant visit to the dentist office EVER on Friday. It was awesome.

Okay, well it wasn't awesome in the way that the hygienist picked an entire layer of my gums off in the process of scraping the tarter off my teeth. Or in the way that my gums throbbed for two days following her assault on my poor gums. BUT. No cavities! It's been eighteen months since my last appointment and N-O cavities.

And then there is the dreaded Tooth #7. One of my greatest fears, that Tooth #7. The whole reason for my waiting eighteen months to go back to the dentist. NOT EVEN a big deal! She was all, "When you are ready to deal with it, we will. Just give me a call." No, "You're going to get a brain infection" or "You're teeth are going to fall out if we don't deal with this now" or "DEATH IS IMMINENT IF WE DO NOT PULL THIS TOOTH NOW!!!" I'm so dramatic.

So I was a big chicken shit for nothing. And you know what? I got to sit in a reclining chair and watch CNN for 45 minutes unmolested by children. Yes, a sharp pointy instrument was being dragged along my gum line and yes I was bleeding, but it wasn't so different from my every-day-toddler-wrangling experience. Less pain and blood even. And, my teeth are so shiny! Bonus!