Freaking Out

Brecken to me: “Mama I’m freaking out” (please note he’s 3)

Me to Brecken: “Why are you freaking out?” (First time I’ve heard this phrase from him before)

Brecken to me: “I’m just freaking out”

Me to Brecken: “Oh, well you don’t have anything to freak out about, now let’s go inside the Y”

What the bloody H does a 3-year-old have to freak out about? I mean other than that he’s lost Percy again for the umpteenth time or the injustice of his bedtime or that we still make him take naps. Perhaps it’s the therapy he’s going to face later in life for having such an non-empathetic mother who ignored his tiny pleas that he was freaking out. Screw the college fund, I better start putting money in the therapy fund. Perhaps he heard it from one of us, not that we’ve been literally freaking out, but we’ve had a lot on our plate between two kids with colds and ear infections, making sure tubes were still in one child’s ears and getting ready for tubes in the other ones ears. There may have been some internal freaking out when they tested Pippa for strange and rare diseases as a result of her refusal to grow, but all came back normal and she’s apparently just stubborn or perhaps she’s freaking out she’ll be a giant someday and trying to stunt her growth by hiding in the microwave, who knows. On the other hand maybe we do freak out, sometimes.

 

The Tiniest Backseat Driver

“Sloooooow down, you have to stop” I gaze ahead at the perfect row of green lights, one right after the other. I glance back, “Why do I need to stop?” The response was a quick “There’s a stop sign” as he points to the green light we’re currently cruising through, followed by a “You HAVE to stop ,there’s traffic” as he points to the traffic on the other side of the divided highway. I try to explain they’re on the other side and not really affected by our starting or stopping, when it doesn’t seem to be making any sense I ignore his comments and keep going. Shortly thereafter, I enter the turn lane and slow down so that we can stop for the red light and then turn, “Go faster” he yells, “You have to go faster”.

This is what happens when your, only been 3 for like a minute year old, decides to become the tiniest backseat driver, with only a  basic understanding of driving, namely we go slow or fast and sometimes these things called signs and lights tell us to stop. Nearly every outing results in this fabulous commentary now, at some point in the last few weeks he has become an expert on driving and little will deter him from sharing his opinions. If only he were still like his sister who still falls asleep in the car the majority of the time. And to think I used to like driving in the car and taking them places.

 

 

The Three Phases of Valentines Day for New(er) Parents

Phase 1: Valentines Day Before you Had Children-

You plan the entire night in d.e.t.a.i.l. and nothing will deter you. Your favorite restaurant doesn’t take reservations on Valentines Day, eh what’s a two-hour wait when you have nothing better to do. You go to your favorite italian restaurant, wearing a new outfit after having spent an afternoon admiring the flowers you received. You order whatever you like and stuff yourself silly while drinking copious amounts of wine and watching gossiping about all the other people around you and what they’re doing. Then you head home to do unspeakable things that will launch you into the next phase of Valentines Day.

Phase 2: Valentines Day with a New Baby-

It’s okay, a new baby doesn’t have to change things. Maybe you don’t want to pay a babysitter while you sweat out the 2 hour wait at the bar for your favorite restaurant. Pshhh no biggy you can go to a restaurant that you enjoy that’s not your favorite. You make a reservation, hire a babysitter, skip a new outfit for yourself, outfit your new baby in something ridiculous that says something like Mommy’s Little Heart Throb and in a mildly panicky state you hand over your new baby to some teenager while you go out to enjoy an adult evening without the youngster. You spend the entire evening talking about your baby, rationalizing that it’s totally normal as is your irrational fright that the babysitter has somehow put him in the clothes washer and turned it on, how misguided were you trusting today’s  youth, and eats a little faster. Then you go home, find relief that the not so misguided youth has actually kept your baby alive and put him to sleep so you proceed to do unspeakable things that will launch you into the next phase of Valentines Day.

Phase 3: Valentines Day with Multiple Children Under 3-

You’ve now rationalized that your husband’s recent sporting goods purchase is gift enough, chalk up the sweater you bought earlier in the week to your gift and consider major gifts done. You find yourself eating a heart-shaped pizza the day before Valentines Day with the kidlets in tow because you just have too much going on on the real day to get any kind of “special meal” in. You haul the kids to Barnes and Nobles to pick out Valentines Day gifts, where they are enamored with the train table and could care less about the books. You dash into the local candy store for your husbands favorite chocolate covered potato chips, buy your favorite candy as well and call the day done. You prop the candy up with the new pilates mat you bought him, which you would have bought him anyway and are good to go. You can cross Valentines Day off your never ending to do list and go back to getting things ready for a birthday part this weekend and all the other shit you have to do. New outfits for anyone? Hahaha, you just hope you made it through the day matching and with clothes that aren’t covered with stains, snot and food bits. If it’s a good day you’ve remembered the kids should wear red/pink, but really it was whatever you grabbed out of the drawer first that was seasonally appropriate.

Valentines Day Done. 

 

Happy Valentines Day from My Cracked Pot to Yours!

and in case you need a last-minute e-card, here’s a few of my favorites

Happy Valentines Day

 

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Underwhelmed by the Man with the Bag

Do we enthusiastically drag our wee little children to see the man with the red suit and hat because they WANT to see Santa or do we want them to see Santa so that we can memorialize the moment in a crappy picture that we’ll share with the world and then not look at for another year? I don’t even need to dignify my own question with a response, the crappy picture below says it all. We have this amazing light display in our local park that we walk through each year with the kids and then wait in line to see the infamous man with the bag. This year the line with infinitely less long than last and the majority of it was inside thanks to the snazzy new Santa shack they built. However, picture it from a 2 going on 3 year old’s perspective. Enthusiastic parents talk up visiting Santa to ensure said toddler doesn’t throw a freaking tantrum upon actually seeing Santa and to pass time in line, quiz small child on what they will tell Santa they want for Christmas. Small child becomes super excited to see Santa, wait in what seems like endless line for toddler (really like 20 minutes) only to be presented in front of the man with the bag who is facing such a daunting line that he slaps a Santa button on you and your baby sister who he picks up due to size, forgets to even ask you what you want for Christmas, Mom snaps a photo with her iphone and out the exit you’re shoved. A lifetime of waiting for 30 seconds of what? I’d be underwhelmed too, which is clearly the theme of  this year’s photo with Santa. Meanwhile Baby Sister notorious for her honest expressions is looking at everyone like really people, WTF was that about.

 

So no cute/funny screaming Baby pictures,no happy faces, just one awful iphone photo that took 20 minutes of our time and will likely result in years of therapy later in life after we repeat this tradition each year in search of that one photo that captures the joy of seeing Santa, should there ever be one. I mean really, how sitting on some complete stranger’s lap whose covered in how many germs from all the other small children, sweaty and smelling like candy canes is not representative of the joy of Christmas I have no idea.

Perhaps next year will be better, when I’ll have my fancy shmancy camera that I’m getting for Christmas this year. Or perhaps it will be an equally underwhelmed photo and just be of significantly better quality. I’d settle for the removal of the glowing possessed eyes. Seems like the least I can ask for.

Did you drag  take your wee ones to see Santa? How was your trip?

“If you’ve done everything you should extra special good
He’ll make this December the one you’ll remember
The best and the merriest you ever did have
Everybody’s waiting for the man with the bag
‘Cause Christmas is coming again”

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Know Your a Mommy When; Superhuman Smell

A letter to my 1 year old…

Dear Philippa Brynn,

I’m sure you’re asking yourself, who is she talking to, I know my peapod, we never call you by your formal name but we wanted to give you the option should you ever feel you grow out of “Pippa” to have another name. Happy 1st Birthday Pippa!!! Someday I hope you have a 1-year-old who we can celebrate their birthday together, because only then can you truly understand what a wonderful roller coaster of a year this has been. Determined to share your mama’s birth month you came 12 days early in September and entered the world swiftly on a beautiful Friday afternoon. This past year you’ve amazed us with your many expressions, from your often observational looks to your cheesy smiles and belly chuckles. You gave us far less scares than your brother did in his 1st year, with few unscheduled trips to the hospital or doctor. You have kept us tired though with your refusal to sleep in your crib or for any real length of time and your complete unwillingness to bother yourself with something like a routine or schedule. Your daring, taking years off my life, with your willingness to put absolutely everything you get your hands on in your mouth, to chew it for a bit, until I can fish it out. As well as your stealth ability to find something to climb. You crawled early and have been walking now for a couple of weeks. You’re determined not to be left behind by your brother. You have these large blue eyes that can just light up a room and will get you in a lot of trouble when your older, I have no doubt. You talk a lot but haven’t quite managed to put the words together yet, with the occasional ma ma ma and what we think is your attempt at the word up. You’re a nursing machine, with no signs of any desire to give up anytime soon. We made it through the year with cloth diapers and I wonder what you will think someday when you have children. Will you be as concerned about the same things I was as a mother? Hopefully there will be new and better options for you.  Some days it feels as though from the minute a baby is born they are leaving you, first turning their head away, rolling, crawling off to explore the world, and walking as you just started doing. I can only imagine what it will be like when you finally fly off on your own and leave for college, work or wherever life takes you. You’ve always kept yourself just a little closer to home than your brother has, making sure we’re in eyesight and keeping us close. You’ve always let us know that we’re the center of your world, and while I understand that eventually it will change, know that I’ve enjoyed being there.

You’re a stubborn one, taking after your parents. You refused to eat any of the homemade purees, not because of a dislike of vegetables but because you were determined to feed yourself “real food”. You love snuggles, cottage cheese, laughing at Brecken, sitting in our laps, chasing the puppies and climbing on anything you can get your hands on. We’re so very blessed to have you in our family Pippa girl and we cannot wait to watch you grow and celebrate birthday after birthday with you. So while today may not have seemed any different to you, other than lots of people saying strange Happy Birthday words when you’re around, know that it was a very special day for us!

Love you to the Moon & Back, always and forever XOXO,

Mama

 

Born September 23, 2011 at 1:07 p.m. 7 lbs 10oz, 20 inches long!

1 Month!

2 Months!

3 Months!

4 Months!

5 Months!

6 Months!

7 Months!

8 Months

9 Months!

10 Months!!!

11 Months!

Stay tuned for tomorrow’s big 12 Month Picture!!!!

Potty Training in the Dark

Where the capital H have I been? I know, that’s clearly been on your mind, like you don’t have 30,000 other more important thoughts. But just in case, a teeny little part of you wondered, I’ve been heavily involved in shit, literally, I’ve been in the trenches. The trenches of potty training, oh and in Chicago and cutting all my hair off in some kind of last hurrah to my 20′s which are almost over. This is not a fun task [potty training, turning 30 seems painless so far but ask me in September], in fact initially it’s far worse than changing diapers unless you loathe diapers like me, then it’s about even. Taking Brecken’s lead he picked the date we would finally get rid of the diapers. I then grabbed a shovel, calmly scooped up all my mommy morals and natural parenting philosophies and buried them in the flower bed and went out and bought snazzy things to bribe him with. The results, we are nearly a month free of diapers. This sounds like victory but it’s kind of been like riding a roller coaster in the dark, that you’ve never seen before in the light so you have no idea when the twists and turns will hit you. The first day went super, he earned a shiny Thomas the Train backpack to keep all his future matchbox cars he would earn by pooping on the potty, really I threw away all scruples, buried them. Poop = car and it worked, the key is recognizing when to take away the cars. I think the only piece of advice that I could truly give that I believe could/should be repeated from our experience, we started on a Saturday when we both would be home and I think that was key! In the early days this is a two parent job, because at least one of you will occupy a LARGE chunk of time [like all day]to nagging, dragging, encouraging, cheering, entertaining etc. to, in and around the potty. Anyway it was smooth sailing for the first week, then he regressed and started pooping randomly in his pants except he wasn’t wearing underwear yet so it would just fall through, a good and bad thing all at the same time, see below. We went back to the cars briefly and he seems to be back on track, he seems to have finally got it down that we’re not going back to diapers and this is his life now. So as not to bore you with a novella about potty training, unless you actually want the stinky details, in which case send me a message, I give you:

5 Highlights  Horrors of Potty Training a 29 Month Old Boy

1. Poop Talk: Little Boys love to talk about Poop. The length, color, smell, you name it they discuss, describe and relish in their accomplishment. Albeit when potty training we want them to accomplish this, I could do without the narrative, because I assure you each time it happens, and having a son gifted with regular bowel movements this is quite often, I get to hear a fabulous narrative such as “Look Mama eees a big one ees lotsa poop, I flush it bye-bye, bye bye poop”
2. Pooping in Party City: Nothing like a quick trip to Party City for some decorations and regardless of plenty of bathroom stops, he drops a deuce (Jeff’s term) in the middle of the aisle, remember the part above about not wearing underwear, so it literally was in the middle of the aisle. Clean up on aisle 10!!!! Apparently when your child poops in Party City you have to clean it up yourself. Lucky for me this was Jeff’s story.
3. Penis Songs: In case you ever wondered when the male ego first begins talking about his penis, I would say around the age of 2. In our house he sing songs about it, and not just at home, when we visit Chicago too. It can take many different forms but usually includes some kind of ownership of said business “I have a penis, I have a penis” or This is my penis, this is my penis” I think my all-time favorite is when he sings “Don’t touch your penis, don’t touch your penis” Note we’re very big into repetition here.
4. Peeing in the Grass: Clearly a milestone in all male children’s lives because I sure do not recall every relishing any experience that necessitated peeing outside lest ever actually wanting to pee outside. Brecken however will quite happily mark his territory. Newest Mama Mantra “Pee goes in the Potty” and I spent forever on a probably way over his head about how pee can’t go in the ground because it could make our plants sick but water makes them feel good story”
5. Flashing in the stacks: We have really been working on Brecken taking his pants on and off himself, on a recent trip to the library Brecken told me he had to go potty. I was on the computer with Pippa in her car seat on the floor next to me and said just a minute, so I could gather all my stuff. Brecken knowing we were basically right by the hall with the restrooms promptly dropped trough and gave the entire library a show of his naked rear end  and his precious penis. Thankfully he didn’t break into song. I’m pretty sure I literally dove at him, mortified, pulled up his pants and hauled him to the restroom. He was oblivious to the whole episode.

Doesn’t he just look bigger now that you know he doesn’t wear diapers?

B checking out the water display at the Chicago Children’s Museum

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Addicted to Diapers

(Photo Credit: Someecards)

Do you ever wonder what it would be like to go back and play 20 questions with yourself, sometime in the past? For example if almost 30 me when back and chatted with 17 or 18-year-old me, I can only imagine the reunion would go something like this…

Teenager Me upon seeing Future Me arrive: Gasps…where did those 30 pounds come from and what happened to your hair, it isn’t blond anymore? What are you doing to future me?????????? Note that teenager me was a little vain and suffered from rather nasty eating disorder toward the end of high school.

Future Me: Yeah about that, the question is where did those 15 pounds come from, because you could gain at least 10, and it was a small price to pay for future children, and surprisingly, unfortunately, in reality blond you sticks around for quite some time.

Teenager Me: Taking in this information and glancing at Future Me’s wedding ring: WAY TO GET MARRIED!!!! What’s he like? (Can we say one-track mind?)

Future Me: NO NO NO, no giving away anything you’ll have to do that on your own, but he’s perfect for you, that’s all I’ll say!  Now I’ve got a few questions for you…How do you feel about diapers?

Teenager Me: UGH diapers smell bad, and aren’t they really bad for the environment? Teenager me already cared about the environment, just not her own body, what can I say, nobody’s perfect. Teenager me also had no idea what cloth diapers were except something her parents or grandparents used and were believed to be extinct much like a triceratops.

Future Me: Yes diapers, don’t you think they’re completely addicting…don’t you care about your future children?

Teenager Me: Umm perhaps you should seek therapy, meanwhile I think I’ll have a diet coke.

Future Me: Okay but make sure to STUDY!!! and don’t drink too much!!! (what can I say I’m a mother)

Clearly teenager me must think I have some kind of weird obsession with poop if I love diapers this much. You might think I’ve lost my mind, but then I would have to ask you, do you use cloth diapers? Because you probably don’t. They are super addicting. Not just because they are actually cheaper than disposable diapers (albeit your initial investment is a bit higher), they are better for the environment (don’t get me started on my insane theory  that someday we’re going to send all the disposable diapers from the landfills to a black hole without actually knowing the effect this will have on the universe), better for your baby’s bottom (think less chemicals) and honestly they are way cuter. I think it’s this last bit that has so many of us addicted. There are so many different options and kinds from cotton babies including the well-known bumGenius and flip to best bottom  to FuzziBunz to Tiny Tush (From WI <3) and so so many others, those are just some of my favorites. Cloth diapers come in a never ending sea of colors, patterns, styles and materials. There are cloth diapers for all occasions.  To the point that I have to refrain from adding to my stash simply because I want her to have that super cute pattern or color not because she needs another cloth diaper. That’s what’s so great about them though, they are not just functional but adorable, easy to use and wash as well and who doesn’t love adorable.  I think we may have to start support groups, alternatively perhaps some kind of diaper swapping program because at this rate,  when you just want to keep buying it’s not so much the savings that cloth diapers give you but the hug that your giving mother nature by using them and the ability to keep the chemicals typically found in disposable diapers off your baby’s bottom. But seriously how does THIS in lovelace not make your heart swoon. Clearly I need help, I wonder what they call an addiction to diapers?

Anyone else out there have this problem, perhaps we could start a support group  buy in bulk together for some kind of discount? =)

English: Cloth Diaper (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Disclaimer: None of the above links paid or gave me anything for mentioning them in my word vomit, think of this as merely the 1st step in admitting my addiction at which time I mention some of my favorite cloth diaper manufacturers. If for any reason you buy something for reading this, lucky them, if you continue to keep reading this, lucky me!

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Haircut Defeat

I caved. It was too much pressure, but at least I caved listening to what I think was a logical argument or at least logical enough to wear down my defenses. Also I only caved minutely, in the grand scheme of things many of you won’t be able to even tell he got his hair cut. I have a little envelope with wisps of golden blond hair to prove you wrong. I heard all kinds of complaints, from “he looks like a girl, his hair is too long, it has to be too hot, and if you cut it, it will only get curlier”, to all kinds of praise “don’t cut it, he looks adorable, I love those curls, the curls really suit him.” While he was occasionally confused by some strangers of being a girl, I have found that strangers constantly mistake children of the 2 and under variety of being the opposite gender, when he was a baby I could have him decked out in blue with a football on his chest and they would come by our stroller or shopping cart and say “what a precious little girl” and I would be like “what you blind” at least that’s what my internal Mama defenses would roar, I would usually just mutter something like “Thank You, HE’s six months old (with perhaps a touch too much emphasis on the he). Anyway, I digress.

After lots of people saying it was too hot for such long hair, combined with the fact that it was getting super long in the front and wildly uneven, I caved for a 1/2 inch trim. That’s it. Oh and I wasn’t paying for it. So my mom, a big defender of the let’s get this kid a haircut idea, orchestrated the whole thing, down to getting him some new books to look at while it happened. She actually did a really good job of distracting of him and making it fun, but let’s make this clear, this kid made OUT. Pre haircut he got a yogurt parfait from McDonalds to eat, then he got to look at no less than 3 new books during the 8 minute haircut, which she bought for him. We opted not to have his wet at all for fear he would flip so it was a dry cut, we also left the area around his ears for last because of his history with ear infections he is very sensitive to people getting anywhere near his ears. Inevitably one side did have to have more than the 1/2 inch taken off because it had grown so much longer on one side than the other so to even it out he had to have more cut. Also the hair stylist confirmed my suspicion that his hair is still filling in and he still has baby hair that is being replaced, one of the reasons I didn’t want to do a major haircut. We ended about to argue over whether to cut his front shorter,but Brecken ended any discussion and with a flick of his hand at where the scissors were hovering above his head, he was DONE. Then he got a sucker for having not interfered with the whole process until the very end. Jackpot.

Now how long before everyone wants a 2nd haircut, probably like a week. SIGH. Overall though I was impressed with how well he did and our ability to get out of there intact without his hair looking awful due to some snap movement of his head, hand or both. I was also impressed that it only cost $10.00, we took him to The Ultimate Salon and Spa in Onalaska and it was very reasonable and she did a really great job with him. We will definitely go back.

So for all of you that have been waiting, here’s the pictures…

Has anyone else had a fun or horrible 1st haircut story?

(Immediately post hair cut, aka the brief time period it actually looks shorter)

What it looked like 45 minutes later

and the Curls Survived!!!!!

Happy Father’s Day!!!!

Custom E-Card for my Husband from http://hahasforhoohas.com/