Thursday, January 26, 2012


I have a baby for one more month.  After that: Toddler City.

And, you know, time flies blah blah blah...but what really made me realize how fast time has gone by?  I was saying I got pregnant with Grace nearly four years ago, and I thought, that can't be right, I was just blogging about that the other day...NOPE.  Almost a year ago.

Anyway: KATIE.

She no longer requires the assistance of this friendly lion to walk all over the house.  She is juuuust beyond the Frankenstein stage, now she's more at the stage where it looks like the floor is sticky.  You know what I mean?  When they kind of haltingly pick up their feet?  Like that.

She loves getting into things.  She's doing a lot more imitative play lately, which is really awesome.  She tries to brush her hair, and today, when she saw me dusting her changing table with a diaper wipe (they do an excellent job, in case you're wondering.  of course, her changing table is particle board, if you have actual wood with an actual finish, your mileage may vary), shetook one out of the box, and proceeded to do the same.  It still shocks me when she does it, because wtf, she thinks she's people!

She does not enjoy the snow.  That's my girl.  Gracie will win her over to the dark side soon, I think, because of all the things Katie loves, she loves her sister the most of all.

Although probably this is a really close second:


One more month.  The countdown starts!

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Trouble: A Play in Pictures

well, well, well.  what have we here?
It would appear to be CHOCOLATE.
Lemme just take this now...

Hey!  Uh...little help here?

Make it worth my while, and we'll talk.  For now?  I don't know you.  Walk two feet behind me at all times.

Sunday, January 22, 2012


Lately, G has taken to asking me, "Mama?  You wanna color wif me?"  and "Mama?  You wanna pway stickers wif me?" and last but definitely not least, "Mama?  You wanna dance wif me?"

And I could be in the middle of, like, performing coronary bypass surgery, and I would have to drop it all immediately and color, play stickers, or dance.

(right here, there should be a video of Grace singing and dancing along to Cinderella, but of course, tonight she SENSED she was being recorded and instead ran laps around the first floor of the house.)

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Anxiety Level...Rising

In five weeks, Katie will be a year old.  Of course, I am shocked- SHOCKED, I tell you- by this development.  But I am also planning furiously, because this means I need to figure out The Great Wean.

Here's the thing: Katie is actually working herself in that direction anyway.  She has gotten a lot wilder while she's nursing, popping on and off, digging her nails in, pulling, twisting, and acting generally agitated.  I've been putting her to bed wide awake with good results on a pretty consistent basis for a little over a week, which is huge.  She still STRONGLY needs The Bewb for her afternoon nap, but aside from that, she's become quite independent from it.  This is totally, absolutely the right time for me, too.  I am really ready to dress myself each day in clothes that are comfortable and look nice, rather than clothes that offer ready access to my sprout (EDITED: ha ha ha, that should say access FOR my sprout.  the way I wrote it sounds like a really gross euphemism for my chestal region, and EW.  No.)    I am sick to DEATH of pumping.  I am so ready to be done.

So if all of that is true, why do I get a sick knot in my stomach each time I think of it?

Weaning Grace was a really, really unpleasant experience.  I did it way too quickly, and the way my hormones bottomed out was so, so ugly.  Again, for the eight millionth time, I had no idea, though I should have guessed, that the hormones would be so brutal.  It was like being postpartum all over again.  I know now that I cannot expect to wean Katie as quickly as I weaned Gracie- or, I guess, I CAN, but it's a really stupid idea.  I ALSO know that, once the whole process was complete, I was so happy and relieved.  The first time I went to work sans pump, I practically skipped to the car.  I stopped stressing so profoundly about every second that I was away from her.  It was like a switch flipped, and I went from "ohhhh nooooes, what shall I DOOOO about Teh Weeeeaning??" to "YES.  AWESOME."  But nonetheless, anxiety was the main hormonal side effect of my Supah Fast Rapid Wean, so the mini-anxiety I get when I think about the process is probably related.

I also stress quite a bit about how I will handle afternoon naps- as I may or may  not have confessed, Katie frequently spends the second half of her afternoon nap, wrapped in my arms, nursing herself in and out of sleep.  I know.  I KNOW!!!  But people, I am so frigging tired.  And she sleeps that way, at the same time her sister sleeps.  How can I refuse that?  I'm not made of steel, I'M A REAL LIVE GIRL.  I'ma needa figure this out.  I have absolutely no idea what I am going to do.  Besides die of exhaustion and/or fatigue-induced stupidity.

Five weeks.  I have five weeks to figure this out.

Friday, January 13, 2012

Why I hate going to the optometrist

Reason the first:

Getting my eyes dilated.  UCH.  Hate.  Especially because at this particular visit, he dilated my eyes, then sent me out to the front room to pick out new glasses.  Thanks dude, great timing.  I can't see a farking thing, what a fantastic time to choose an accessory that will be ON MY FACE for probably three years.  Which is another issue, I always always always get buyer's remorse, because I am, in fact, going to wear them for three years, so what if I hate them???? I remember when I was a junior in high school, I decided to be a little risky, and got these plastic frames that were in kind of a lighter tortoiseshell color/pattern, thinking they would be fun and, maybe?  A little funky? Or something?  Spoiler alert: I looked horrible.  Like the world's BIGGEST DORK.  And since I was a junior in high school, I couldn't afford to just go back and get a different pair.  Of course, this purchase coincided with the point in my life when my eyes got bad enough that I had to wear my glasses all the time, and since the change had just happened, I did not yet have contacts.  Epic fail.  Which is part of my next point.

Reason the Second:

The PRESSURE.  Because eventually?  1 and 2, or 2 and 3, are going to look so similar, it is not so much that it's hard to tell if there's a difference or not, but that there IS a difference, and somehow it is hard to tell which is better.  And it's always a miniscule difference, but it's THERE.  And you just know you're going to make the wrong choice.  And that is always confirmed when they look at your records and oh-so-casually say, "oh, yeah, just a very minor change in the prescription."  And it's usually going from, like, -4.50 to -4.25, and SERIOUSLY?   You can't just leave my prescription alone?  When I have zero visual complaints and I am only here because you make me come here to get new contacts? This is bothersome because, as I mentioned, I remain convinced that I have made the wrong choice and, in fact, my prior prescription was the right one, and this new one is just completely all wrong, but also because...

Reason the Third:

Getting used to a new prescription SUCKS.  It's like that favorite pair of pajamas you have, the nicely worn-in soft ones, that you wear every time they're clean?  Like someone taking them away, handing you a brand-new pair of jeans- and not just any jeans, but really cheap, stiff, scratchy jeans- and being all, "What?  These are actually BETTER.  They will keep you WARMER!" and you're all, fuck that, I felt perfectly FINE in my threadbare flannel, give me back my jammies!!!!  But they will not.  And you must break in the new jeans, so to speak, and spend the day feeling slightly queasy and unsteady, and blinking forcefully, as if something tiny has floated into your eye and you can make everything better if you just squeeze your eyes shut hard enough.  BUT YOU CAN'T.

I also need to get myself to the dentist.  And I hope you don't need me to tell you why I hate THAT.

Monday, January 9, 2012

To Sleep, Perchance to Not Be Aphasic

I have this theory that kids are all either eaters or sleepers.

My girls loooove to eat.


Gracie had some weird and frustrating sleep quirks that I thought we'd managed to avoid with Katie.  G used to wake up at 2am and stay awake for hoooours.  Katie didn't do that.  G started waking up at 4:30 when she was something like five or six months old.  Katie didn't do that.  So even though her naps were rotten and she woke up a ton overnight, I tried to look at the positive side.  Then, of course, Katie started staying awake for hours in the middle of the night and waking up every day before 5am. I mean, of COURSE she did.  Except, unlike Gracie, who had the decency to go to bed at 6pm every day, I'm lucky if I have Katie asleep by 7:30.  And I can't go back to bed at 9am when she takes her nap. 

I thought I had an ace in the hole with this- we took away Gracie's morning nap, et voila, sleeping til 6am.  like MAGIC.  And just last weekend, Katie was suddenly sleeping til 6:30 or 7 and not requiring a morning nap.  Score!  Aaaand then she stopped.  Started waking at 4am.  But ALSO, because she was used to not taking a nap, she also refused to take a morning nap!  And so has really been a joy to be around.  Right now, her sleep schedule is roughly as follows: wake up before 5am.  Refuse to take a morning nap, but get really crabby.  Pass out in the car on the way to/from running errands.  Going down for afternoon nap around 1:30.  Sleep an hour, wake up screaming, demanding bewb.  Get bewb.  Nap on couch another hour with mom.  Stay awake until at least 7:30.  Wake at least once.  Wake again at 4 or 4:30.  And so on.

We have tried putting her down earlier.  We have tried waiting until she acts really tired.  We have tried CIO.  None of it works.  Earlier and later bedtimes have no effect on her, one way or another.  CIO is no match for her, the kid is STUBBORN.  She will scream and scream and scream and screeeeeam, and after an hour, is still standing in her bed, shrieking her brains out. 

I got nothin' else.  My kids just do not need a lot of sleep, that is an undeniable fact, but I DO know Katie needs more than she is getting.  But short of, like, voodoo dolls or soaking her cheerios in benadryl, I am pretty sure there's nothing I can do to enforce that.

On the plus side, I get to remain totally smug about having kids that eat their vegetables.

Thursday, January 5, 2012


I used to totally hate my birthday.  It sucks being born two weeks before Christmas.  It was seriously my number one reason for wanting Grace to be born early.

but THEN?!  Everyone started posting the videos for the number one song from the week they were born on Facebook, and now I know better.  Oh yes.  I know better.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Just Keep Some Pants on the Kid

This morning, we were all sitting around/playing in our pajamas, when Gracie slammed her knees together and said, "mama?  I pee in my pants..." and hobbled to the bathroom.  We took her pajama pants off, and I thought to myself, I should go get her some pants or a tutu* or something...but laziness won out, and I figured, we're gonna take a shower soon anyway, and she's perfectly happy, so whatever.

She and Katie were goofing around when Katie suddenly started laughing hysterically.  I looked more closely, and realized that Katie was sitting up on the trampoline, with her face smashed against the mesh, while Gracie was lying underneath it shrieking, "PEEKY-BOO!!!!  PEEKY-BOO!!" 

omfg.  My head exploded a little bit from the cuteness.

I ran and got the camera and dashed back into the room, where I realized that there was no way to capture it without also capturing Grace's dupa. 


*tutus = potty-training MAGIC.  don't ask me WHY so many kids are incapable of staying dry if there is a stitch of clothing on their butts, but  the tutu lets them be nakey while also decent AND they love them, so they don't want to get pee on them.  Gracie is currently the proud owner of five tutus.  Yes, five.  I GIVE YOU THIS ADVICE FOR FREE.