Red Faced Mama

Fashionistas

2011-12-27T15:16:00.005-06:00

One of the things that I love and hate about the holidays is getting the kids all ready and dressed up for everyone. I love it because they do look so cute (when they cooperate)...but I hate when there's a struggle about the clothes and they just want to be comfy (which I completely relate to!!)

So this holiday season I decided the kids would go in what they wanted to wear...with a bit of guidance from me. And it seems to have worked. John's new thing he's into wearing is ties. Really. And he is so damn cute in those ties, and even started wearing them to preschool (sans the collared shirt, which is a look I am really digging myself).

And Santa must have thought he looked fantastic as well because John got 3 new ties in his stocking!

As for Annie...the girl is into purses, shoes, and jewelry. Not sure how that happened...but she'll put on a shoe fashion show most afternoons (complete with your shoes, if you're visiting). And she'll take your necklace right off your neck (sorry, Auntie).

When it was time to go to our annual ladies' tea, she was all about her purse (which used to be a gift bag until she commandeered it).

Our most recent fashion move was by John who insisted princesses walk in a slow, creepy way.
I agree...a little creepy...but I think he pulls it off well :)

Oh Brother!

2011-12-05T13:21:00.004-06:00

Annie's taken to calling John, "Brother." It is so cute, and understandable since so many people in Annie's life go by a non-name names...Mama, Dada, Auntie... This weekend we were sitting around the breakfast table, and Annie called out to each of us:

MAMA!

My reply: Annie!

DADA!

Tom's reply: Annie!

BROTHER!

John's reply: To express his complete love for her by becoming overly concerned that she had enough strawberries, and that I knew she wanted her waffles cut precisely so. (Like her mama, to truly endear yourself to Annie, ensure her tummy is happily filled.)

Boogers Suck

2011-11-02T17:07:00.004-05:00

No one likes to be sick. Sure, I used to fake the world-ending cold to get out of school, but actually being sick is lousy.

John can't breath through his nose. Which makes nights LONG and days longer. Yesterday, Eugenia (our nanny) and I had to literally bear-hug him to force medicine down his throat. That sucked. After he finally drank it, all he wanted was a hug from his mom -- the women who had just tormented him. HEART STRINGS SUFFICIENTLY TUGGED.

And of course as all good siblings do, John shared with Annie.

Not everyone can blow a bubble out of their nose. Another impressive resume builder.

Go girl!

2011-10-19T10:12:00.007-05:00

The younger sibling has to be tough. She has to be able to defend her territory from her older (and stronger!) brother or sister. As my sister can attest to, sometimes this involves no-holds-barred battles launched against the older sibling...complete with biting, kicking, crazy arm swinging (perhaps this is how I ended up with extra long arms...?), and the occasional flute smack upside the head.

Watching Annie learn to defend her space has been a point of pride for Tom and me. Of course we try to keep her from gauging John's eyes, or biting him repeatedly...but I must say the newly developed stiff-arm is impressive. Check out the guns:

I am woman, hear me roar!

Rudolph's Full Name

2011-09-13T14:44:00.002-05:00

I've been working with John to make sure he knows some emergency information. He knows his full name (John William Lydon) and his sister's full name (Kathleen Annette Lydon). He knows we would never send a stranger to pick him up, even if the stranger says his mommy said it was OK. And to run and scream and find a policeman or teacher. Some scary stuff.

But the conversations are priceless.

Here are some of our conversation tidbits...

Me: John, what's my name?

John: Hmm?

Me: What does daddy call me?

John: Hun.

Me: What's our address?

John: Our dress has a skirt and a tutu.

John: Do you know Rudolph's full name?

Auntie and Me: No.

John: Piccadilly Carmen.

Who knew?

A Dog Named Bo

2011-09-02T11:26:00.005-05:00

About 2 months ago, we moved John to a big boy bed. A super cool firetruck bed which he LOVES. But won't sleep in. He was up. Up up up. Most parents are used to their kids not wanting to go to sleep (hence the "Go the F*ck to Sleep" book), but John took this to new levels with hours of calling out, crying, sitting in the hall. We'd walk him back to bed. He'd get up. We'd lay next to him, read books, tells stories...he'd get up. We'd offer him rewards. Or take away toys. He didn't care.

Finally, I made a huge reward chart for him. He can see the reward for each night he goes to bed well/quietly. It's right there -- picture of the reward, and an empty box waiting for the shiny, smiley face sticker he gets to put up in the morning...IF bedtime went well.

And I must say I was AMAZED.

First night. No problem. WHAT??

And the reward (besides VERY proud mama and daddy) -- CHEETOS! Ah, the power of Cheetos!!

Yesterday, he got to go with Tom to get donuts for breakfast -- in his JAMMIES! And he told the donut lady all about why he was lucky enough to get donuts...and got rewarded AGAIN with a special blue donut hole.

So, this bring us to today...John did well last night...and this morning's reward is a book. A few days ago I told John a story about Tom's cousin in Ireland who has this big huge dog. The dog is non-violent but protective, and when a repairman came to their house when the owners weren't home, the dog knocked him over and laid down on top of him. And held him there for 2 hours. HA! GOOD DOG!

Well...John asked for a book about a dog who knocks people over.

OK. I can do that.

Here's what I made for him:

A Dog Named Bo

By:

John and Annie’s Mama

Bo was a dog.

He was big, and grey, and very friendly.

And when I say ‘big’, I mean Bo was a giant- sized dog…almost the size of a pony!

He had outgrown his dog house, so now Bo lived inside his owner’s house.

Bo was very protective of his home.

One day, a repairman came into the house, and he surprised Bo.

Being friendly, Bo didn’t want to scare the repairman.

But being protective, Bo did what he thought was best. So he jumped up on the repairman and knocked him down.

And laid down on top of the repairman until Bo’s owners came home.

Bo’s family was proud that Bo protected their house.

And the repairman decided he’d only come back to the house when the family was home.

The End

Is it live? Or is it Memorex?

2011-08-16T11:25:00.003-05:00

First, I'm sure I've dated my self with my blog title. For your kiddos -- Google.

Second, onto the posting!

It's hard to take pictures. I want pictures of everything...the firsts, the discoveries, the cute faces, but my choice seems to be to either take the picture or to take part in the action.

Case and point: we just got back from a super fun family vacation. We rented a house in Galena with Tom's sister Moira and her family. We had a very fun time, complete with swimming, renting a boat, hiking, riding on an awesome HUGE slide (which all of the kids wanted to ride on with me since I LOVE those types of things and went super fast...probably not the best example), grilling out, lemon meringue pie :), a trip to Tom's dad's alma mater (Tom's folks came for 1 night), an insane trip up the Fourth Street Elevator (clunking all along the way...), and lots of games of Uno.

But...we have no pictures. OK, we have like 4 pictures. Including this one of John lounging in his new robe (at home...after vacation...but we bought the robe in Galena!!)

There was a great moment with Annie and John running around in their matching robes (yes, she got one, too)...but of course I have no picture of that...

Fake Annie

2011-07-25T13:26:00.005-05:00

As I've said before, I love cop/detective/drama TV shows. But some of the plots can be just too over the top...silly...annoying. I mean, come on, what mom would ever get confused by which kid is actually her kid? Would anyone believe a mom picked up the wrong baby, just by accident? It was my opinion that those writers were just lazy...and should be fired.

Until I saw this...on a website for a vacation place we're considering...and apparently Annie visited previously...

Two things:

1. My apologies to the writers.

2. My future apologies to the girl holding Annie's lookalike. If I ever see you holding this baby, I will take you out at the knees and reclaim my daughter. And then be arrested for kidnapping.

Finger Food

2011-07-15T14:39:00.003-05:00

Anything you can do, I can do better....

I'm Margaret

2011-07-01T14:58:00.003-05:00

About a month ago, we took John and Annie to see our niece Margaret's ballet recital. She was wonderful and adorable, as all 5 year old ballerinas are. And she inspired John.

John now puts on recitals for us. They start with him behind the curtains in our room. Then we have to open the curtains for him, and he says (proudly): Hello. I'm Margaret and I'm a dancer.

Then we must say: Hi Margaret!

And the show begins. It usually has some bouncing, some very impressive dive-roll somersaults, and lots of twists and turns. If we're lucky, he'll ask me to put a bow in his hair to complete the whole performance.

There are parents who may think letting him pretend he's a girl or putting bows in his hair is somehow gender-bending ala that J. Crew ad...to those folks I don't say anything. My beautiful, well adjusted, rock star son speaks for me.

Next showtime is 7am tomorrow.

Getting warmer...colder...warmer...hot hot hot!

2011-06-21T13:50:00.003-05:00

I learned an interesting thing about the English language while giving John a shower. It's confusing.

Let's say you were making a sand and water mixture.

And you said you wanted it "sandier." That would mean to add more sand.

And if you wanted it "waterier" then you'd add more water.

Easy enough.

So John's in the shower. The water is one and spraying on him. (I had checked it -- it was warm, not hot.)

He said it wanted it "warmer" so I turned it a bit hotter (continued to check it -- still not hot). He said "warmer", so I turned it a bit hotter and asked if that was OK and it said, "No, warmer!".

I realized what he meant -- he wanted it closer to "warm" further from "hot".

Tricky.

Big Steps

2011-06-14T11:22:00.002-05:00

With all of the excitement going on with Annie (hospitals, walking...), it's important to be sure that John still knows he's extra special and wonderful. Because he is. I am so proud of him and impressed with his achievements -- tracing his hand, drawing a balloon, taking the big boy swim class with a coach and no parent...all really huge milestones that he's surpassing daily.

You'd think a kid who really could ask me for anything would take advantage of this. Right? Well, John asked for a carrot with the green part still attached. Why? Because that's how Curious George eats his carrots.

John's most recent achievement -- this morning he was off to his first day of camp! Lunch in hand!

I am just in love with that little man. If he wanted it, I'd get him an eggplant.

I'll Walk When I'm Good And Ready

2011-06-02T09:14:00.008-05:00

I know she can do it.

She knows she can do it.

Everyone knows she can do it.

*INSERT INSANELY CUTE VIDEO HERE OF ANNIE STANDING NEXT TO HER SPLASH MAT AND TWISTING SIDE TO SIDE. (DAMN YOU BLOGGER FOR NOT UPLOADING WELL!!)*

I'm pretty sure that when no one's looking, she's running laps.

Update on Annie

2011-05-23T10:43:00.003-05:00

Thanks for all of the well-wishes for Annie girl!!

She has decided she is on an apple sauce and smashed banana diet. In the past 3 days she has eaten 1 jar + 6 individual cups of apple sauce and 9 bananas. And she's made it clear that you better be ready with her food NOW.

As for my dad, he's doing well...but I'm pretty sure his wife is trying to kill him. Mixing up his pain pills with her antibiotics and such. Good thing his surgeon likes us.

Hospital Relay Race

2011-05-20T09:12:00.006-05:00

Sunday: Annie puked at Aunt Moira's house (sorry about the rug!).

Monday: Annie woke up covered in vomit. Her bed was crusted over. Gave her a bath, scrubbed her down, and she still smelled like puke. After puking all day (sorry Eugenia...) and not peeing for 6 hours, I took her to the ER. They gave her anti-vomit meds. Some Pedialyte. Asked if she was usually so lethargic...um no, but usually she hasn't been puking all day and it's not 10pm. So they sent us home.

Tuesday: Cindy was at our house (sleeping there since Annie and I were at the hospital) and had to leave at 5am to get down to U of C Hospital for our dad's pacemaker replacement surgery. I went to U of C at about 10am, spent the day, and got home right after Annie had puked again. Our dad's surgery ended up taking 13 hours. That's what happens when you get an infection and let it fester for 6 months...

Wednesday: Annie decided she liked this hospital-relay-race, and wanted to expand it to include more hospitals. So she puked. Twice. And off to Children's Memorial we went. Her blood sugar was too low (53). Her bicarbonate was too low (16.6). So they needed to give her and IV and get her to drink juice. Giving her the IV was a fucking nightmare. The ER nurses wrapped her up like a burrito with 1 arm sticking out, and repeatedly tried to get the IV into her arm or hand. Two nurses tried. After 3 attempts, and Annie screaming and crying (mind you, these are the ER nurses at CHILDREN'S...WTF??) I stepped between the nurses and Annie and picked her up and then we both cried. The nurses left. The doctor came back in, said Annie really needs the IV, and called the special IV team. NOTE TO ALL PARENTS: ASK TO START WITH THE IV TEAM! They came with toys, and something to light up her veins, and they sang, and let me hold Annie while they got the IV in -- after only 1 attempt.

So she got her saline, and managed to drink some juice from a syringe between long naps.

Blood sugar went up to 80, and we were allowed to leave.

Thursday: Morning puke. Visit to the doctor. Doc said Annie was mostly likely feeling like she was hit by a truck, but that she seemed on the mend. Then at dinner, she ate! And smiled! Such a nice thing to see! She had energy for about 15 minutes. This was her first time holding up her head to look around since MONDAY!

Friday: Fingers crossed....

Driving

2011-05-11T11:19:00.004-05:00

Everyone has personal issues. Family stuff to deal with. Crap at work. Whatever. And those days when you know there's a pile of poop just waiting for you to step in or shovel are super frustrating. I'm a doer. Something needs to be taken care of? Let's get it done. Now. I hate waiting. And when I have no control over what has to get done, it drives me nuts.

Speaking of driving...and to shamelessly use some ridiculously cute pictures of Annie to make my sister and me smile (since I know she reads this and my pile of poop is her pile of poop...)

Luckily, my sister usually travels with poop bags.

Olympian

2011-05-04T13:39:00.002-05:00

If you'd like the autograph of a future Olympic gymnast, please submit your request. As soon as she learns to write, she'll send it.

No pressure, Annie.

Car Stealers

2011-04-14T15:39:00.003-05:00

Last night, John told me that two of the boys in his preschool class take the toy cars away from him when he's playing with them.

What I said to John: John, those boys don't know how to share very well. You should take the car you were playing with back, and tell them that you want to play with them and share your cars with them. And if they still don't want to share, then you can go and play with your other friends.

What I meant: John, I hate those little fuckers.

It's not delivery...

2011-04-04T15:24:00.003-05:00

Chef John making his own dinner. With a hungry sister magically appearing in the background...

Bon appetit!

Big 3rd Birthday

2011-03-29T15:09:00.005-05:00

John turned 3 :) What a big boy!

Overall, his birthday was very fun. But it started off a bit rough. John's birthday was on Saturday, and Tom got home from a work trip on Friday night. John heard Tom (after some very mysterious lady rang our doorbell at 8pm with a delivery from Amazon...did not open the door) and then John was up, up, up. Tom and I tried to tuck him in for a nice sleep, but he would have none of it.

John called to me, "Mama, I need to go potty!" and I asked Tom to go help him. John screamed like a crazy man. He ONLY wanted mama. So I went to help. Then back downstairs. "Mama, I need to blow my nose!". Again Tom went. Crazy man screaming. Mama to the rescue. Downstairs. Screaming. Mama just laid on the floor next to John's crib til all was calm and quiet.

The next morning (John's birthday), Tom and John had Wiggleworms (their usual song/dance class). They LOVE it. But that morning, John didn't want to go. We had snacks for all the kids for John's birthday. Tom got John's push-car loaded up with the snacks...John was throwing a fit and didn't want to go...they started off...got about 1 block away...and John jumped out of his car and ran home. Tom was so sad.

Things got better and we had a fun lunch at John's favorite restaurant (Prairie Joe's, where they have a bin of castoff toys to play with and cross-contaminate), and then John got to pick out his birthday cake at the bakery (no, I didn't bake him one. Shame shame.)

And then we met John's cousins at CHUCK E. CHEESE. People, if you have not been to Chuck E. Cheese recently, you are lucky. That place is INSANE. I had a reservation (because I always make reservations) but didn't realize that without one the line is over 50 people long and OUT THE DOOR. There were at least 10 other birthdays around us. The wait staff communicated by walkie talkie. The games were PACKED in (and NO skeeball!!! WHAT?????). John got to go into a ticket booth with tickets that fly all around him (I'll load pics later). Pizza. Cake. Tokens. Clapping. A big mouse who gave him a crown and a birthday medal. I was overwhelmed. But John LOVED it :)

And so did Annie.
The next day, Tom left again for a week-long college-scouting trip with Sean (for realz). My life-long friend Jin Ho came over to visit (and help!). And the very first thing John said to him was, "I go to Wiggleworms with my dad." I called Tom and he was thrilled :).

17?

2011-03-18T14:45:00.002-05:00

Is it just me, or can you see a glimpse of John at about 17 in this picture?

Due Date

2011-03-04T15:28:00.007-06:00

Today was Annie's due date...1 year ago.
Of course we change all of that when we decided to have her induced (very happy about that decision to help give Tom and me some peace of mind during such an emotional time!)

So now I am the mama of a 1 year old and a 2 (very soon to be 3!) year old...oh my.

We had a birthday celebration this past weekend for 4 people (Annie, John, Sean, Dan) complete with 4 cakes and a magician...it was really quite fun...and finished with John sitting at our table with all of the cake-leftovers in front of him...and a fork.

I'll post more pictures soon (after I get my act together and upload them...promise...before Annie turns 2.)

To welcome today, I had a terrible dream. I dreamt that we found out Annie wasn't our baby. Some red-headed lady showed up at our door, and she was Annie's mom. And I hated her. (No offense to the red-heads in my life). I did exactly what I would do if this happened in real life -- I took Annie and ran. Not sure where we went. All I know is I couldn't let that lady near Annie. (And a special thank you to Eugenia who offered to beat her off with a broom if she showed up today while I was at work.)

Yes, I know this could never happen. But, if you've been reading my blog for a while, you may remember that I can no longer watch shows like CSI or Criminal Minds (which I used to love) because any show that depicts a child being part of a crime in any way makes me want to simultaneously vomit, fight and cry. So this dream put quite a damper on my day.

And to top it off, please see my previous post about Cindy being taken hostage. For realz. And then I found out John preschool was evacuated because of smoke that set of the fire alarm (very cool and fun for him...not so much for his mama).

Oddly, since this all happened in 1 day, it's really not upsetting...I think I may still be dreaming.

Some things should NOT be texted.

2011-03-04T12:09:00.002-06:00

Got this text this morning from my darling sister...who's in Zanzibar:

"Just got taken hostage for 30 mins. Really very benign. All ok. But crazy. Driver called hotel mgr who came and told the villagers to let us go."

So taking of my mama-hat and putting on my sister-hat, WHAT THE F*CK?

FYI

2011-02-23T15:34:00.001-06:00

Boogers are sticky.

Poof!

2011-02-23T15:23:00.003-06:00

For those of you who don't live in the snow, but have visited snowy places and think you understand what snow is all about, you don't. You have to really live in it to truly "appreciate" it. You have to shovel it. And wake up to more of it. And get stuck knee-deep in it while you're trying to get to your car. While holding a baby. And have the city plow actually plow you IN to your driveway. And wear the same boots for 4+ months because they already have salt crusted onto them and you don't want to ruin another pair. And you simply must curse the entire notion of black ice (and if you don't know what black ice is, you REALLY don't understand).

And then it's just gone. Poof.

Here's John 2 weeks ago...

And here's John last weekend...

Poof.

Soaking socks

2011-02-14T10:02:00.004-06:00

As you may have heard, we've had some snow here in Chicago. And by "some snow" I mean the 3rd largest snow storm in Chicago weather history (thank you, Tom Skilling, for keeping my facts straight!)

So, Saturday John and I ventured out for a SNOW ADVENTURE!! It started with getting on our snow gear.

John: Snow pants, jacket, hat, scarf, mittens, boots. Adorable.
Mom: Jacket, gloves, scarf, boots.

And off we went, into our backyard. John was super excited...until he sunk. About thigh deep. And was stuck. We tried to build a snowman...but John was not having any fun at all since he couldn't even fall into the snow being that he was already trapped by it.

I was not going to let this ruin our snow adventure. So off we went on Plan B -- a trip to go sledding! We got the sled, loaded John into it, and set off through the public garden that borders our house to get to the park. I was pulling that sled with all my might. The snow had not yet been walked on (since we were in the garden that sane people don't go in during the winter). So the sled turned into a plow and I was literally pulling pounds and pounds of snow, trying to convince John this actually was fun. At this point, I did not need my snow gear. Tempted to leave most of it in the garden. Luckily, the sled suddenly was easier to pull. Unluckily, I turned to look back...and John was a bundle of blue lying on the snow (again stuck). We capsized twice.

After about 20 min, we made it to the park (which is 1 block away). Decided to not attempt sledding (finally realized the snow was NOT going to cooperated), and instead John played with 2 kids who were filling the slides up with snow and crashing through it on their way down. FUN. Good. Not a total loss. Then we tried swinging. In the baby-type swing with the leg holes. Fun, until John got stuck (please re-read the list of what he was wearing...not hard to figure out putting him in the baby swing was a bad idea). Had to take off his boots to get him out. So there we were, all bundled up, in the snow. Without boots. Awesome.

Time to go home.

John (again wearing his boots) splashed in puddles the whole way -- loved it! We got home, took off his boots, and apparently they are NOT water proof...oh my...SOAKING wet socks.

Yes. So I had my 3 year old out in the snow, got him stuck there, took off his boots and soaked his socks.

Today he has a fever of 100+. I know things like germs really cause illness. But I still am a total and complete loser.

My solution? Retail therapy. Just bought this for Annie:
Sunshine. Bring it.

Mama to Mama

2011-01-28T11:42:00.005-06:00

Sometimes the only people who can *really* understand how I'm feeling are other moms. I've had a rough week. Tom has been out of town for 2 nights, and John really missed him the first night. So much that he cried for 2 hours. After Auntie and I both tried to rock him to sleep, he still cried. And it's sad to listen to, but for the mom, it actually hurts. Just thinking about it now, I am going to cry myself. I went into hyper-alert mode and was up literally all night listening to every noise, hoping it wasn't him waking up again.

The lack of sleep that goes with motherhood is indescribable and cannot be understood by a non-mom. Dads can't even understand it. People think that since kids sleep 12-14 hours/day that the moms should be able to sleep as well. That's just not how it works. Kids sleep ON us. If we move to get comfortable, they wake up. And as they sleep, we have to do all of the things we used to be able to do at any time -- like eat, shower, clean up.

The idea that a nursing mom can sleep in at all is just not true. Annie gets up at 5am, so I get up at 5am. No matter what time I went to bed or fell asleep. She's not going to be comforted by anyone else. I bring her into our bed, and she'll nurse and maybe fall back asleep...on me. It's such a beautiful mental image and a bonding moment...but one I am awake for. Tom can fall back asleep easily since he's there but not really part of what's going on.

I am not complaining about being a mom. I love nursing Annie and loved nursing John. It's just hard. And tiring. And indescribable. Really. And I know people reading this are thinking I'm being annoying or a martyr or whatever. And honestly I'm too tired to care. I've tried to talk about this with some people, and mostly I get advice like, "Can Tom wake up with Annie?" or "You need a night away." Which both make perfect sense...except they really make no sense at all. I told Lisa about it all. She got it. Thanks, Lisa Jean. Jelly Bean.

Personality

2011-01-14T10:17:00.003-06:00

It is so much fun getting to know John. I realize that may sound odd since I gave birth to him and have been with him every day since then. But, he's now becoming himself...an individual. And he is damn funny. (And stubborn -- wonder where he gets that??)

A few examples:

John climbed up on the kitchen stool to sit next to Auntie, turned to her, and said "So, what's new?" To truly understand the humor in this, please remember John is 2. Auntie tried to answer, but was too busy being quite shocked and proud :).

Recently (like this week), John's started to put on "shows" for us. He instructs us to "sit down" while "I do this" and then jumps around and waves his arms. So we sit. And he jumps around and waves his arms. So far shows have been free, but I suspect admission prices soon.

Last weekend I was STRUGGLING with John's mittens and jacket. I bought him these great mittens that have extra long wrists so that they tuck into the jacket sleeves to avoid snow getting in there. I had the brilliant idea to put the mittens on first instead of trying to shove them up the jacket sleeves once the jacket was on. In the process, I managed to get both of John's arms stuck in his sleeves since the mittens are too bulky to actually make it out of the arm holes. So there we are -- John's trapped and I'm getting annoyed at the fabulous mittens. And he starts singing..."I'm be eaten by a boa-constrictor...". I nearly peed my pants.

How did I get so lucky?

2011-01-06T11:01:00.004-06:00

All the very early mornings, all the messes, all those crazy poops, all the battles for independence...it's all so worth it.

One for the mamas

2011-01-04T14:28:00.003-06:00

Last night Annie had the most AMAZING poop.

I think this can only be appreciated by a fellow diaper changer. I mean it was incredible -- we were mid-diaper change. She didn't want to have her legs up, but I was holding them with 1 hand and trying to wipe her with the other...when I HEARD HER POOP fly out of her butt. And it was gigantic.

It was like one of those foam guns that shoot out that liquid foam that turns solid...

I wish I had my camera. Truly.

Popping the bubble

2010-12-28T11:24:00.002-06:00

As a mom, my job is to protect my kids. Keep them safe. Make sure they don't run into the street, or go in the snow with bare feet, or stick things into electrical sockets.

Or eat things that could hurt them.

This last one is the culprit of serious stress. For months and years you take care to be sure their food is cut small enough. And is soft enough. And cooked through enough. And that they don't eat anything they are allergic to...if they are allergic. And how do you find out if they are allergic? Well, you give them whatever the "test" food is and wait and see. Seriously. WTF. Hate it. Wait and see?

This morning was a big test for Annie -- Peanut butter. So after 10 months of protecting our daughter from everything, we handed her something that could cause her serious harm and basically sat and waited to see what would happen. And she gobbled it up...just like her mama. Thank goodness. No reaction.

I am completely serious that I think kids should try these potentially serious allergens at the doctor's office for the first time. What would we really have done if there had been a reaction? Thrown her in the car (sans car seat in this case since I wouldn't be able to snap those straps with my shaking hands) and frantically driven to the hospital? Called 911 and hoped they arrived in time? Hate to think about it. Really hate to.

Also, peanuts are not nuts (they're legumes). So we still have the nut allergy to contend with. Maybe next year.

Can't resist this one...

2010-12-21T15:07:00.002-06:00

HERE'S JOHNNY!!

Second Kid

2010-12-16T15:58:00.005-06:00

The second kid gets shafted. Completely. I was just looking back through my blog, and saw I didn't post anything about Thanksgiving. It was Annie's first turkey day, so I should have photos...right? Well, no. Luckily Auntie took a few and posted them to Facebook. With John, I had an entire Snapfish update for the holiday.
Now people are asking what the kids are getting for Christmas. John's got an entire list. Annie...well...her list consists of things like "dishes my brother hasn't slobbered on"...

Dear Santa...

2010-12-15T12:18:00.003-06:00

Dear Santa,

I have been a very good boy. This year, I would really love a new guitar (since I played mine so much that it broke into pieces), a play kitchen (like the ones at school and that my cousins have), some trucks to dig in the dirt, and a vacuum.
Also, my sister has been pretty good. You could bring her something, too. But she always steals my toys, so please bring her something good that I can "share."

Thanks,

John

At Work

2010-12-02T12:55:00.005-06:00

I don't know how working moms survived before cell phones. Honestly. I communicate with my nanny constantly.

How are the kids?
How's the coughing?
Any poops?
Did they nap well?
How was class?

And the quick, easy pictures she sends to me help so much.

Class was good...Johnny loves jumping into the pit...
All good. Making Jell-O Jigglers!

No poops, but she's happy.

Flight IN CAPS

2010-11-18T16:06:00.006-06:00

Goodness gracious.

Took Annie on a trip. She's a CHAMP and even managed to win over the SUPER stick in the mud businessman sitting next to us on the return trip who didn't even ACKNOWLEDGE Annie until we landed...at which point he turned to her and said, "Annie, I'll sit next to you anytime." (and yes, I did nurse next to him). Not hard to believe she got to him -- I mean look at this lady!
BUT I AM NOT HAPPY WITH UNITED (or maybe airlines in general) for three reasons:

1. Why do you no longer let people with small children pre-board? Do you think somehow babies now take less time to get organized? Do you think moms are less frazzled today? Let me tell you -- we are not. I promise.

2. What is the deal with keeping the *potential* need for an INF boarding pass a secret? OK...you say a baby can sit on a parent's lap until they are 1 and do not need a ticket...but you leave out that they may need a BOARDING PASS to get through security?? Come on. (But this one is tricky since only 1 of the 2 TSA people asked me for it...love consistency.)

3. THIS IS THE BIG ONE -- WTF is UP with removing the CHANGING TABLES from the airplanes??? You realize this leaves the very gross options of (1) changing the baby at the seat and ignoring the fact that you are COMPLETELY invading the air space of the person next to you, (2) changing the baby on the floor next to the bathroom and hoping no one steps on you/her, (3) changing the baby on the closed SUPER stanky toilet seat and HOPING she doesn't touch ANYTHING or fall on the floor, or (4) letting her sit in poop.

I opted for #3. Happy to report Annie survived. Sad to say Tigger got stranger pee on him.

Candy and coffee

2010-11-05T10:38:00.005-05:00

Halloween was a great success :) Except for the fact that Tom was sent to Korea and had to leave Halloween morning at 4am, so he missed all the fun. He was really bummed to miss Annie's first Halloween, and to be part of all the trick or treating festivities. But, we did send him pictures and have LOADS of candy for him to share in when he gets back.
One of the best part of Halloween was our early morning trip to the fire station. Since Tom was out of town, I wanted to do something special with John and Annie (really more for John). (And honestly, since Tom was out of town and I was solo for the morning, I needed an activity to keep us occupied). John had decided to be a fireman for Halloween (we talked him into fireman...originally he wanted to be a fire engine. After figuring out how to make a fire engine costume -- which would entail him wearing a cardboard box attached to him by suspenders -- we went to plan B.) So on Halloween, we got him into his costume right after breakfast and headed out to the fire station to meet some real firemen! We showed up at the fire station, and the firemen were prepared for us -- it was 8am and they already had a big bowl of candy waiting (I guess preparation is part of being a fireman...). John was SO excited when we got there, and I think the firemen gave him special treatment since he was dressed up so perfectly!!

They let him go in 3 fire trucks, walk on 1, and go in the ambulance (front of the ambulance, mind you), and spray a mini-fire hose (and 1 fireman in the process).

It was PERFECT! On our way back home, John munched a lollipop, Annie snugged, and I stopped for a yummy latte. (Question to Starbucks: Why are you the ONLY store on all of Central Ave that has a step to the front door? Really not helpful for the stroller-rolling crowd, which is pretty much your entire business on weekend mornings.)

Egg

2010-11-01T11:37:00.002-05:00

Dear Person Who Threw An Egg At Our Window,

I know it was Halloween. But really? I had 10 lbs of candy inside. If you had simply rung the doorbell, you would have been rewarded generously. However, I now am inclined to get finger prints off those egg shells you so nicely left on our window sill.

Thanks.

Trash Can

2010-10-19T13:20:00.003-05:00

We live in the country now. And in the country, people steal trash cans. Apparently, it's the thing to do. Leave your kids' toys out -- no problem. Leave out gardening tools -- they're safe. Leave your nasty big trash can in the alley (where it is supposed to be) -- gone. Order another -- gone. Learn your lesson and make your trash can as lovely and personalized as possible -- victory!!

Ah, the life of a suburban mom.

(And yes, I am knocking on wood to be sure our toys and tools are not missing...)

Girls in Pink

2010-10-18T15:02:00.006-05:00

Annie proudly participated in her first 5K race on September 25, 2010. It was the Susan G. Komen race for the cure, and she was on our friend Laura Egglestone's team. Laura is our very strong, very loving friend who beat breast cancer (actually, she basically kicked its ass).

Annie was up early, dressed and ready to go, including some very sporty pink running shoe socks...

which were quite chompable.

She did a fabulous job of entertaining everyone and loved hanging out with the girls...

especially Auntie :)

Picture Day

2010-10-13T11:16:00.004-05:00

John has picture day at school today. Amazing.
I remember my picture day in preschool. My mom dressed me in a tan colored overall dress with a red shirt underneath. I'm not quite sure how I got to be the mom of someone heading off to his own picture day...and doing it so adorably...

Apple Picking

2010-09-30T13:21:00.004-05:00

It's harvest time! We set out for a Lydon family picking adventure last weekend. Of course, Annie decided to fall asleep about 1/2 a mile from the orchard, so she wasn't available for action-shots. However, our niece Claire stepped in as John's lil lady partner and did a fabulous job :).

Of course, when Annie did wake up, Claire and John still had to finish their conversation.

And then eat cake.

Apple picking is so fun...now I just need to figure out what to do with all these apples.

Big Boy, Little Man

2010-09-15T10:34:00.004-05:00

John start preschool. Mama definitely is more anxious about this than he is. He's a champ.

New house

2010-09-13T12:58:00.003-05:00

So far things are going well at the new house...but I am completely and totally stressed. I love the house. Except a few things (of course) and those things stress me out because they are what I keep focusing on. Like the damn dishwasher that is just RiDicuLous -- it has 2 drawers and is "super fancy" because you can run 2 different wash cycles at the same time (like if you made a stew and served wine with dinner so you needed to wash a pot and glasses...like we do that...) but 1 drawer is broken and the other may as well be since it doesn't wash worth a damn. And (BTW) you can't wash baby bottles in it since it has no top rack since it has 2 lower racks due to the 2 drawers. But we can't buy a new one until we sell the Oakley house (or our "city home" as I now call it).

Luckily there are things to distract me...like Missy being a friggin' rock star and getting ALL of our boxes unpacked and art hung during our 1st week in the house...love that Missy. So does Annie :)

Everyone seems to be adjusting to the new home. Including Sean, who was disappointed to be losing his supercool city digs, close to fabulous music events. But I think he's adapting...and seems to like the local hot dog joint where he can chat with his bro. (Oh yeah...and I think the close proximity to college girls will help as well...)

John has definitely fallen in love with his new yard. He loves being outside in the yard so much that we had to talk him into leaving to go get an ice cream cone! And he's set the house alarm off twice since he'll just decide to up and leave to go out there...we're working on "tell mommy and daddy when you want to go outside..." (we're working on that with Auntie as well...teehee...)

We've started John in local activities...taking advantage of the park district. He's continuing with Gymboree for a while since I wanted some consistency for him, and he's started gymnastics and loves all the climbing, jumping, hanging (I know -- shocker!) Now, the thing that is really stressing me out is the damn property taxes. Our taxes are INSANE. We knew it coming in. And it's a trade off -- pay higher taxes and go to good, free, public school vs. lower taxes in our old house but the need for either bullet proof vests and tutors or private school tuition. And I already have a lawyer working on lowering the taxes...but ugh. Best way to combat this stress...

Constipation

2010-08-18T11:56:00.005-05:00

Give me any amount of space or time and I can fill them up. No problem. This is a gift I was born with, but having 2 children has really contributed to my mastery of it. Case and point:

Do as I say...not as I do.

2010-08-12T10:06:00.004-05:00

I've been running into some challenges recently with teaching John the "right" way to do things. He can see with his own two eyes that other people are getting to do things in not-quite-the-right way, so why should he have to do things correctly? Good question. Any answers?

Here are two examples:

1. Annie spits. She's 5.5 months old, and is now at the phase of discovering what her own body can do -- rolling over, reaching and grabbing objects she wants, scooching herself to try to move, and yes...making raspberries. She'll make them while she's eating, while she's resting, while she's whatevering. We've been telling John repeatedly that the only time he can spit is when brushing his teeth, and it must be into the sink. But then why is Annie allowed to spit whenever and wherever she wants? And we just laugh? Hmmmmm?????

2. The waitstaff at Ed Debevic's stand on the tables. My sister takes John on dates on Sunday afternoons, and they often times end up eating at Ed Debevic's. And she's run into this same "rule" issue...why is John not allowed to stand on the booth seat if the waitress is standing on the TABLE?? Now that's just NOT fair.
I am pretty sure that at some point in my childhood I promised I would never say this...but...I'm the mama. That's why.

Snuggle Puppy

2010-08-02T11:38:00.004-05:00

Tom and I were getting dinner ready this weekend and he had the book Snuggle Puppy running through his head (it's a GREAT book by Sandra Boynton...one of my all time favorite authors). There's a fun song in the book, so of course I started singing it (I know many of the Boynton books by heart).
The first time I heard this book sung aloud was by my friend Leah. She gave me the book as a gift very early on in my John pregnancy. She presented it to me over lunch, at a restaurant, where she not only gave me the book but proceeded to sing it aloud to me...because that is how the book should be read. I loved it. She didn't care that we were in public. All she cared about was that I needed to hear the book properly, so I could get excited about singing it to my lil snuggle puppy when he was born.

At the time, Leah was the mama of one (Noah). Now she has 4 children, and I have 2. Amazing to think back to that first Snuggle Puppy recital, knowing now what an incredible, giving mother she is, and that she'd still sing Snuggle Puppy to me. Although now it may be interrupted by some diaper changes.

"Boss" Lady

2010-07-30T13:23:00.002-05:00

Dear Silly "Boss" Lady,

You really shouldn't ask my sister to come in to work for a quick meeting with you when she has a vacation day scheduled starting with a date with her nephew. And if you do so, you definitely shouldn't cancel the meeting immediately prior to the start time. By doing things like that, you may just lose the best employee you'd ever hope to have.

Oh wait -- you already did.

xox,
The Lil Sis

Who's who?

2010-07-29T11:20:00.003-05:00

I've been looking back at some pictures of John when he was a lil guy to see how much he and Annie look alike, and I thought it would be fun to do a comparison. Here's a little game for you -- do you think this is John or Annie:

Unfortunately, Blogger only lets me upload 5 pictures per blog post (which you may be happy about!!) so I can't provide you with the resources to do a full analysis. But here are a couple comparisons for you to review.

Let's start with naked pictures (since they are some of my favorites!!). I think it's easy to tell who's who in these (they are naked, after all).

And we'll move onto a comparison between the babies when they were a little squished due to gravity...but easy to tell who's who thanks to Auntie's selection of appropriate clothing for each...

I think it's become quite clear over the past nearly 2.5 years that John is my clone. Annie may have a bit more of other genes in her...perhaps some more Lydon? The jury is still out...

Dear Lady

2010-07-20T09:19:00.002-05:00

Dear Lady Walking Down The Street,

It would be really great if, as you walk down the street with your daughter and your grandchild, you put out the joint you're smoking.

Thanks,
Terri

Back at work...and pacing.

2010-07-06T10:41:00.009-05:00

I'm back at work full-time. And it's been a roller coaster so far. I started back on July 1, so last Thursday. On my train ride that morning, I got a message from my dad that he was in the hospital and was getting a pace maker put in immediately. For those of you who know my dad, you know: (1) this could mean he stubbed his toe, (2) this could be very serious, and/or (3) the truth would be completely lost in translation through Stase.

So, my first day back, I turned around and left work and headed to the hospital. My dad was very scared. And it was very serious -- his pulse was 12 when he arrived in the ER, and dropped down to 0...which oddly was lucky because since that happened in the ER, they were able to diagnose the issue right away and get him in for a pace maker without the need for a halter monitor.

The procedure went well and he was released from the hospital the next day. And now I'm trying to decipher what the follow up is supposed to be. Again, for those of you who know my dad, you will not be surprised to know that:

1. He told him they popped his heart out of his chest, hooked up the pace maker, and put his heart back into his chest. When I told him that's not how it was done, but instead the surgeon threaded the leads into his heart, my dad said he had spoken with the doctor and that's what he was told. I asked my dad if he had a big incision down his chest and he said no. I again told him that I spoke with his surgeon and they did not crack his chest open.
2. My dad asked my sister-in-law (an RN) if he'd be able to play racquetball again. She said yes, and then told me she didn't know he played racquetball. He did -- when he was married to my mom, 40 years ago.
3. He has no discharge papers. Claims he didn't get them. I am sure he did and will be calling the hospital so they can send me copies.
4. He told me they didn't give him pain medication prescriptions. I was shocked and asked what they did give him. He said he got 2 prescriptions -- one generic and one brand name for the same drug and insurance wouldn't cover both. I asked if the 2 drugs were indeed pain medications. He said he didn't know. So either he has 2 prescriptions or 0. I'm betting on 2.
5. He says it's really scary to be looking at your pulse monitor and see it drop down to 0. Really? He saw it drop down to 0? Amazing. Most people would pass out.

I'm not trying to make light of this. I know it's serious. I love my dad. But it's really like taking care of another child. But this child is big and I can't pick him up and convince him that the medicine tastes good.

On the flip side, the super mean train conductor recognized me and welcomed me back and asked how my baby is doing (guess he's not that mean after all...)

Big baby

2010-06-28T12:21:00.004-05:00

Someday Annie will look back on this and be really angry with me for sharing...but there is a very limited amount of time when I am in complete control...and I'm taking full advantage.
She's really not that big...about 50th percentile...but quite the hefty one at this angle...love it!

Doing His Own Thing

2010-06-23T14:39:00.002-05:00

Three of these kids belong together

Three of these kids are kind of the same

But one of these kids is doing his own thing

Now it's time to play our game

It's time to play our game.

Obsession

2010-06-17T12:00:00.002-05:00

I realized something about myself today...I'm obsessed with feet. I took a picture, went to save it, tried to title it "Feet", but that was used...so I tried "Feet2"...used again...and it went on from there...

A Mother's Progression Toward Father's Day

2010-06-14T14:16:00.003-05:00

There may be a few of you who remember my previous Father's Day posts...

...the stress of my 1st Father's Day with John, when I MADE THE SALESMAN'S DAY by arriving at Wolf Camera with a sleeping John in tow...and proceeded to buy EVERYTHING the salesman suggested in order to speed the process along and get out of the store before John woke up and realized he was strapped into his car seat (aka "jail" in his 2 month old mind).

...then last year when I decided to make it easy on myself and gave Tom a card which told him he could go pick out some new golf clubs...(which, as I'm sure a few of you expected, he has not yet done...)...which made me seem like a fabulous wife, when really I was simply buying him off.

...so now we're onto year #3, child #2 (child #3 for Tom), and we've progressed even further...Tom's getting a picture...maybe this one...

If he's lucky, it may be in a frame.

Glass...

2010-06-03T12:02:00.002-05:00

Half Full: Annie slept from 7:30pm til 5am! That's 9.5 hours, people!

Half Empty: I burnt my hand so couldn't sleep. Honestly, it hurt more than giving birth. Seriously. And it was 100% self-inflicted. Eff.

Luckily, I'm a glass-half-full type of person...GO ANNIE!

Working...

2010-06-02T12:23:00.003-05:00

I'm back at work, in the office, part time. I'm here (yep, in the office right now...) from 11am til 4pm M-F. This is day #2. So far it seems to be working out ok...I still get to see the kids in the mornings and hang out with them for a couple hours, then head into the office for the day, and then I'm home by John's dinner time. I think I could work part time permanently.

But I'm not sure about full time...
I like my job.
I like our nanny.
I went to school to get a job like the one I have.

But then there's this face wondering why I'm leaving:

And fun stuff that I miss...

And so many changes that happen in a day...

I am far from the first working mom to grapple with this decision. And I hate it as much as each of those moms did.

My Rock

2010-05-24T16:38:00.003-05:00

You know what moms need? Sisters. Sisters rock. I love mine.
I know not all moms have a sister...and I couldn't imagine not having mine. She's solid.

Case and point: this morning I was GRUMPY because it was 90 degrees and I was trying to get the splash mat hooked up for the kids before I left for work (back part time), so I lugged the hose from the garage to the side of the house (which is called the gangway for all of you California people -- I had no idea of that til I moved back here) and the damn hose sprocket didn't have any water flowing...so I had to lug the hose to the front of the house for connection #2 which worked. And then get the mat out that was covered in grime. Gross.

Then I was driving to catch the train (yes, very odd combo I realize) and Cindy called and I was NOT IN A GOOD MOOD, so she listened. And comforted. And saved it til later to discuss the fact that (1) she's in Peru, (2) there are earthquakes there, (3) travel advisers have said DO NOT GO TO PERU NOW, (4) she has to turn down a job today, which she's never done before...

Oh goodness...but do you know how dirty that play mat was??

So Loving...and So Sad...

2010-05-19T14:43:00.005-05:00

I had a really hard time on Saturday night. Annie woke up at about 1:30am for food, so I was sitting in her room nursing her. And then John woke up because he heard us. And John started crying and calling "Mama mama mama!"...but I couldn't go to him because I was nursing. Tom went into John's room to sit and rock with him, but John kept calling for me. And Annie kept nursing. I was so full of emotion...loving my baby girl and sharing time with her...while feeling I was completely neglecting my son...and feeling bad for Tom because he was trying to soothe John and all John wanted was his mama. Ugh. John fell back asleep, Annie finished nursing, Tom came to check on me and make sure I was ok...and then we all went back to bed.

After that I decided we had to move Annie back into our room until she sleeps through the night. That way John won't hear her when she wakes up.

Luckily, John continues to LOVE his sister, and she could do no wrong :).

Officially tired

2010-04-22T09:05:00.003-05:00

Today I am officially tired. Already had 2 cups of coffee and need at least 3 more. We had a rough afternoon/evening/night in the Lydon household yesterday...

1. Put an offer in on a house (yeah!! exciting!! also a bit draining...)

2. Got a call from our nanny that John fell during their walk and they needed to be picked up...

Luckily, it looked worse than it was and he was in good spirits even though he was a wreck.

3. Annie had a reaction to her shots and was SCREAMING for about an hour. Swollen, red leg...so sad. Again, luckily all is fine now.

4. Drank wine with my sister for the first time in what I swear has been years...that was nice :)

5. Slept on the couch so as to not have to relocate the sleeping Annie...then got up at 2am to feed her and then 4am to help her get comfortable...and didn't get back to sleep.

So all in all, pretty much a typical day as a mama I guess...and I'm not complaining...just sharing...(and potentially looking for a funny story in return to add some endorphins to my day!!)

And this is my OFFICIAL THANK YOU to my FABULOUS sister for spending the entire week with us while Tom is in New Orleans. Aunt Cindy is a friggin' rock star. Thank you, Lucky Stars.

John's 2nd Birthday...and the invasion of the 2s!

2010-03-26T14:00:00.006-05:00

Happy birthday to my big boy, John!

Since he was turning 2, he had 2 birthday parties :) (This will not become a tradition...)

First, he had a party with 2 themes...Curious George and Guitars...thrown for him by his 2 Aunts), Cindy and Mary Beth. The party was complete with (you guessed it!) 2 guitar players -- Sean and his friend (well, I guess this was actually 3 guitar players since John was of course playing as well!)

And then today he went with his 2 parents and sister...

and his 2 nannies (we're in a transition phase)...

to the Rain Forest Cafe where he ate -- yes -- 2 orders of hot dogs and too may donuts!
Happy Birthday, my love!!

Big Brother

2010-03-18T17:03:00.003-05:00

When I was pregnant with Annie, I was VERY concerned about how John would react to his new sister. I was worried he'd be jealous...or not like her. Was I ever wrong.

Our days now consist of John running into the room and asking for "Baby Annie!!" Then he SO gently kisses her head. And tells us to kiss Baby Annie. And then sits down and asks to hold her. And then he's off to play the guitar! And back again to kiss and hug Annie.

I couldn't ask for more!

Except for this -- if people (especially doctors helping to deliver your baby) could please restrain from sharing stories about sibling rivalry with their very hormonal patients, I'd appreciate it :)

Ready, Set, Baby

2010-03-18T16:36:00.005-05:00

Lots has happened in the past month...it will take me a few posts to share it all!!

Let's start with one of the most interesting conversations I've ever had in my life...

Tom and I were at our 37 week OB visit, and our doctor said all was looking good. (GOOD!) Then she asked us if we'd like to schedule an induction.

What?

There are very few conversations in life that you've never had before and had nothing to draw from... (except if you're my friend Leah who has *very* unique conversations about becoming a mama and I will always be in awe of her). But this one took us by surprise -- an induction? So we'd just sign up and pick a date and basically choose our baby's birthday? OK...

Benefits: We'd be sure we'd have our OB (vs. the chance of having one of the partners who annoys the BAGEEBERS out of both of us), we'd be sure John has someone scheduled to be there (thanks Aunt Cindy!!), and we'd know what day to look forward to.

Drawbacks: Should we mess with nature? What if she's not ready? And then there was the big drawback...our appt turned out to be at 1:30am...

We decided to go with it.

We got ready.

The date was picked -- Feb. 25, 2010. A special added bonus -- she'd be born on her Papa and cousin Cathy's birthday!!!

That day I heard this Black Eyed Peas song...and I started to get really excited about this all happening...I got home and made a CD to listen to on the way to the hospital...and then when it was time to go, Tom and I were driving to the hospital and he asked how I was doing...and I nearly broke down. I was so scared and excited and nervous and worried about John and anxious to meet our new daughter...I was completely overcome.

We got to the hospital...they started the induction...and at 6am they broke my water (and the doctor who did so proceeded to tell me about how he hated her brother when he was born and used to hit him all the time...this will be addressed more in my next post...) At about 11:15am it was time to push...I pushed for 15 min...and then she arrived at 11:37am...Kathleen Annette Lydon joined us and again I was overcome...with love and relief.

Toenails

2010-02-10T15:21:00.003-06:00

Getting prepared for the arrival of lil lady Lydon -- got my toenails painted pink today :)
Had them painted blue for John's arrival.

Love crud

2010-02-05T09:58:00.003-06:00

Quick hugs and kisses after Johnny's breakfast of Rice Krispies
+
Mama's dark brown sweater
=
1 straggler Rice Krispie that got smashed and ground and makes mama look very much like a mama...

No pictures, please

2010-02-01T15:04:00.004-06:00

No pictures for this portion of the post. None needed. Any woman who has ever been to an OB/GYN appt can relate. Tom and I just went to our 35 week appt this morning. For those of you who aren't familiar with what happens at these appts, as you near the end of your pregnancy, the doctor has to check you weekly to see how close you are to going into labor. (Although in my book it is still a complete guess and all 100% up to the lil one as to how and when they want to enter the world). The doc checks a few things like how effaced you are...if you're dilated...And to do so she basically jams her finger up you until she can scratch the underside of your brain. So in the midst of all the excitement about how you're coming along, you get reminded very quickly that you are simply a carrier and this whole journey is really about the baby...you vessel!

So, then they tell you how you're doing. Today's initial diagnosis -- unclear. Measuring small. Need an ultrasound. Off we went to the lab where we were told all looked good (fabulous!). And as if to reassure us things are just fine, our lil lady stuck her tongue out at us:
She may be living up to her brother's punk rock name...

MOOMINPAPA!!

2010-01-19T10:18:00.004-06:00

I woke up laughing at 6:30 this morning, listening to John call out "Moominpapa!!"

The Moomins are a set of Finnish characters who actually are a family of trolls that are white and roundish and look like hippopotamuses. They of course live in Moominvalley.

My Aunt Barbara LOVES the Moomins (to the point that she has extended an open offer that if any her nieces or nephews name any of our children "Moomintroll" she will pay for them to go to college. But it must be their legal name and we must call them by it -- no trickery.)

Joanna (John's nanny) grew up watching the Moomins and now she and John watch episodes together on YouTube (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oiZ0eBFTH6k). In one episode, Moomintroll wakes up mid-winter and calls out for Moominpapa.

So there was John this morning, calling out for Moominpapa! So funny...MoominPAPA! MOOminPAPA! MOOMINpapa!!

Child Safety

2010-01-18T14:17:00.003-06:00

We try to be safe. Done all the usual "child proofing" things like baby gates at the tops and bottoms of stairs, foam covering for the edges and corners of hard tables, keep small items out of the reach of little hands, put outlet covers on everywhere. It's this final one that that had a small backfire last night/this morning.

Last night, John was playing with a package of outlet covers. They are perfect safe to play with. He was shaking them around and dumping them out of the package and then we were putting them back in and he'd dump them again. He held onto that package and was playing with them while I was getting him in his jammies, and I told him when I laid him down they were all going to fall out on him. They did. No big deal -- just put them back in the package again, got John into his sacko, and he was off and running and played a bit more before book time.

Then we did our usual book time in the glider, he drank his milk, and went to bed. Usual night.
Then this morning he woke up a bit earlier than normal these days (like 6:15am) and was crying. Tom went to get him and they did their usual routine of John getting his diaper changed (he stays in his jammies til after breakfast), got some milk and went downstairs to watch a Curious George and play.

Our nanny came, fed him breakfast, John went potty, continued to play...all the usual stuff.

Then our nanny took John upstairs to get him dressed and when they came back down she told me John had somehow gotten an outlet cover inside each of his jammie feet! Now, that means he had them in there when he was playing last night, when we had book time, while he slept, explains the waking up early and crying (OUCH!), means he had them in there through a diaper change, breakfast, potty time, playing...

I think everyone knows what an outlet cover looks like, but just in case:
Somehow I managed to take child-proofing a bit too far. Oh I felt so guilty!! Poor little guy!! At least I didn't somehow manage to strap a safety gate into his diaper.

Potty time!

2010-01-14T20:22:00.002-06:00

I just couldn't resist...HOW CUTE IS THIS PICTURE???? Such a big boy :)
(Apologies to John)

What color are your boogers?

2010-01-06T10:01:00.005-06:00

John gave me his cold. Pretty sure this is the cause:

Were you just sucking on this? Yum!

And of course being the energetic, resilient boy that he is, this cold has not affected him really at all...nothing slows this boy down.

But it is kicking my ass. It won't go away. It's hunkered down in my nose, throat and chest and continues to produce the stickiest and most annoying gunk. Gunk which I had to describe in detail to my OB/GYN so she could be sure I didn't need antibiotics. Which pregnant women aren't supposed to take...along with pretty much all other drugs to help the mama feel better. I'm down to throat lozenges and Benadryl at night, but only if I can't sleep due to too much coughing. So tonight it's Benadryl.

On the happier side of this cold, there is a great Curious George episode about a germ named Toots who is making George sick. Toots sings and plays guitar, and really is quite a fun guy to watch, so John and I cuddle in front of the TV with our booger-crusted noses and watch Toots and swing our feet and feel a little better.

The Inside Story - George doesn't feel so well. He's sneezing and can't taste Chef Pisghetti's sauce. He learns that he has a germ inside that's given him a cold. George wishes he could make the germ go away so he could feel better. Gnocchi curls up with George and they both go to sleep. In his dream, George wakes up inside himself, with Gnocchi at his side. They are facing that pesky germ - the bluesy, singing Toots and his Germettes, who have set up camp inside George. George wants them to leave, but they are having a wonderful time and never want to go! George and Gnocchi chase Toots through George's body (nose, stomach and lungs) in an effort to evict him. Will they succeed? And if so, how?

BTW -- Curious George is produced by Ron Howard and William H. Macy was the narrator for the first season...not too shabby.

Almost Christmas

2009-12-22T10:19:00.002-06:00

Which one's the snowman?

Outfits

2009-12-17T09:54:00.003-06:00

I am jumping the gun, I fully admit. But I couldn't help myself. And being super type-A, I had to be prepared.

Here are the outfits John + Lil Lady Lydon will be wearing home from the hospital (handmade by Rachel of Happy Hollis Design -- http://happyhollisdesign.blogspot.com/):

(Note to anyone who thinks this is bad luck: keep your trap shut!)

Poop question...

2009-12-14T10:16:00.002-06:00

OK...here's a question I think all the mamas can relate to...

It's 10pm...you sneak into your sleeping child's room to check on him before you're off to bed...he's sleeping soundly...all cuddled up and snuggily...but...you smell poop.

Do you wake him up to change him?

Pros:
- Healthy for the skin
- Maybe he'll sleep later in the morning
- It's just gross to sleep with poop!

Cons:
- It is completely indeterminable if he will fall back to sleep easily
- If you wake him up, you may screw up his sleep pattern and he may wake up even earlier (yes, counter-intuitive, but true!)

And the winner is...

Blondie

2009-12-10T09:34:00.005-06:00

I know there is a very limited time in which I will have control over what John wears and how he looks. And it's slipping away already. He's pretty much mastered the neck-bridge wrestling move (learned that name from his dada) which makes getting him into and out of clothes very challenging. (To see what I mean check this out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b0vg5T4vkew and imagine trying to get jammies onto a 20-month-old contorting in this manner).

And I figure if he's dressed, we're good. So when he pulled out the monkey pants from his Halloween costume and wanted to wear them, I was fine with it -- they're warm, he's getting to express his monkey-self, and why not?

So, while I still have my limited control over my boy's appearance, I think he's going to grow out his hair. We just went to get it cut a week ago (at a great place with Elmo videos, bubbles, balloons, lollipops, and prizes!), and I must say that the longer, floppy hair is preferred by the mama.

Here he is with his new shorter hair:

And with the longer, floppy hair (and a guacy face):

He even looks happier in the floppy-haired photo, don't you think? Maybe I like the longer hair because he was such a baldy for the 1st year of his life and I like the contrast.

Or maybe it's because he looks more like his mama with the blond locks. Hmmm...

Pants

2009-11-12T14:55:00.004-06:00

I'm at the 24 week mark...so depending on how you count, either 5 or 6 months pregnant (because women are actually pregnant for 10 months, not 9...since 40/4 is actually 10...not sure how that whole "9 month" thing came to be the popular rumor...). This is what I look like:
(Or a really close approximation since this photo was taken when I was pregnant with John...2nd baby is already getting the shaft.)

At this stage my normal clothes are too small...pants are mostly too tight (except the low-rise ones which I can still manage with a long-enough shirt) and my tops are too short (nothing less flattering than your stomach hanging out below your shirt hem...). But my maternity clothes are too big (pants are literally falling off me and shirts come down below mid-thigh...shirts would have been super-fashionable circa 1985).

So please accept my apologies for mooning you. I didn't mean it. (Except to that lady on the train -- I meant that).

Pregnancy Brain

2009-11-05T09:22:00.004-06:00

There is a phenomenon that happens to pregnant women called Pregnancy Brain. It's quite similar to sleep deprivation -- you seem fine to the casual observer, but have serious memory problems and often times will do things that just don't quite make sense.

Case and point:

I take the train to and from work, and drive to the train station. Since the train station's parking lot is tiny (and I feel you are also broadcasting that you've left your car there all day for anyone to take advantage of), I park on the residential streets around the station. Once a month the city preforms street cleaning so parking is banned on the south-bound side on Tuesdays and then on the north-bound side on Wednesdays. Parking on those days is especially difficult since there are only 1/2 of the usual spots available.

Yesterday was the first Wednesday of November, so parking was not allowed on the north-bound side. I drove around a bit and found a spot. Good to go, I parked and walked to the train, worked all day, took the train home and walked back to my car.

Or I should say I walked back to where my car had been.

As I approached my parking spot, I saw there was a Lexus parked there. I don't drive a Lexus. I looked at the spot, and then at the very large "NO PARKING 9am-12pm STREET CLEANING -- TOW ZONE" sign directly next to the spot. And I realized I am an idiot. I was parked perfectly well on the north-bound side of the street. Pregnancy brain.

CRAP.

So I start walking. It's like just over 1 mile to our house from the train station, so I figured I'd walk it and deal with finding where the heck my car had ended up along the way. (And have this time to vent and deal with the fact that I had just basically asked the city to tow my car -- please! I'll leave it right here for you!)

I called my boss, explained I am an idiot and would not be into work the next day (today). I called my nanny and told her I'd be late. I called my husband and complained to his voicemail (he was on a plane...which I knew but still wanted to drag him into the situation). Then I called 311 to find out how to get my car back.

They connected me to the District 6 pound. District 6 said they didn't have my car, and usually cars were just relocated for street cleaning and not towed (good to know). So I called the relocation people and they said no, they had not relocated any cars from where I had been parked.

Double crap. My car is gone. Lost. Because I'm an idiot. And have pregnancy brain.

I start thinking this all through -- I have the only car seat in my car. So we are going to have to buy a new car seat so we can get John around in Tom's car. But then what if they find my car? Can I return a slightly used car seat? Will insurance cover a rental car?

I get home, thank our nanny for staying a bit late (I think she was trying not to laugh at me), and start our night time routine with John. As John and I are sitting and watching Curious George (yes, he's under 2 years old and we let him watch some TV -- this is not a time to judge), I start telling him that I can't remember my walk from my car to the train that morning. I told him (yes, I told my 19 month old son) that I didn't remember turning the corner I would have to turn to get from my parking spot to the train...or walking up the street that I had parked on.

What was I doing while I walked to the train?
I was emailing Alexis.
What did I email to Alexis?
It was about the nose saline solution. And I told her I had just gotten rock star parking.

Wait.

ROCK STAR PARKING?!?!?!?!?!?!??!????????????????????????

I was parked somewhere else!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It all came back to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I KNOW WHERE MY CAR IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Entirely a different street. And a different block.

And I am a clear sufferer of PREGNANCY BRAIN TO THE EXTREME!!!!!

Relief. (And annoyance!)

Tom drove me to my car this morning, and it was there, happily parked in a lovely spot with no restrictions what-so-ever.

Tee-hee...

Free candy!

2009-11-03T14:06:00.005-06:00

I love dressing John up for Halloween! I am seriously considering having him wear his costume more often -- it's warm and he likes it (especially the feet), so why not?
And I had so much fun trick or treating with him and REFUSE to let the news story about what parents should really fear about Halloween ruin it for me. The news story that detailed that I shouldn't worry about people putting needles into popcorn balls, but what I should really worry about is all of the sex offenders and H1N1 laced candy that is going to be handed out.

Newspeople, please. We're all freaked out enough. Let us enjoy forcing our children to dress up like creatures and beg for candy from strangers.

They are just so cute doing it!

Dear Metra Rider (there may be cursing)

2009-10-20T10:05:00.003-05:00

Dear Metra Rider,

When the train is packed full of commuters and every seat is taken, you do not have the right to take up an extra seat with your bag. And when the visibly pregnant lady asks you if she can sit in that extra seat, you definitely don't have the right to sigh and roll your eyes at her.

Allow me to assist in your confusion of where your bag should be placed -- you see that bag rack that runs the entire length of the train? Yes, the one about 1.5 feet from your lazy butt? It would love to fulfill it's destiny as the holder of your bag.

Consider this fair warning. If you do it again, the pregnant lady *may* sit on you.

Sincerely,

One overly annoyed rider on behalf of all of your fellow commuters

Tough guy

2009-10-12T10:43:00.004-05:00

My lil man has got me all figured out. One little "mama" out of his mouth and I'm ready to do whatever is needed. And if he adds his open arms reaching to me...well...let's just say some "parenting" experts would take exception to what they may see as the mama being played like a puppet.
But I'm ok with it. He's only going to be a baby for so long. So when he bumps his head and cries and rubs it while walking up to me for extra loving and sympathy, I'm ready to dish it out.

Some of you may be thinking, "But wait -- what if he really hurt his head?"

Well, take a gander at this:

One ripped off nail + Zero tears = He's got me all figured out.

Flu Shot

2009-10-07T10:12:00.004-05:00

I hate the internet. I realize this is an ironic thing to say in a blog, but it's true. There's just too much information available, just sitting there ready to freak me out. And if you don't like the answer you found, you can always find another one to calm you down or freak you out more.

The most recent event topic I had to look up was the amount of mercury in a flu shot.

I got my flu shot a couple weeks ago, after my monthly OB visit where I was told to go get my flu shot. I completed the required form, indicating I am pregnant. Got the shot. Good for me and Lil Lady Lydon.

Next stop was Walgreens. While I was waiting at the pharmacy, another pregnant lady was talking to the pharmacist about her flu shot -- she needed one, and wanted to be sure she was getting the mercury-free type since she was pregnant.

What? Wait.

Was I supposed to specifically say I needed a mercury-free shot? First of all, I didn't know to ask for one. Second, I had already gotten the shot -- did I really want to know at this point if I had gotten a mercury-free one? No. Yes. Well...no. I mean yes.

So I called the place where I got my shot and it turns out that no, I had not gotten a mercury-free shot. Even though I had indicated I was pregnant on the form. I was then told that the level of mercury in the shot was so low that there was more mercury in a tuna sandwich (which my doctor wants me to continue eating), and that the mercury-free shots are basically a marketing gimmick.

Well, what else was this mercury-shot-giver going to tell me?

So I called my doctor, and she confirmed -- nothing to worry about. So what do I do? Worry.

Then I go online to read about the levels of mercury on my own. And this is just one example of what I find:
Fucking internet.

So my next step was to email Tom and tell him what was going on and that I was told not to worry. Because I share my worry with those around me. He said not to worry.

So now I share my worry with you. But I'm not worried...

Indecent??

2009-09-30T10:44:00.002-05:00

John and I are taking swimming lessons together because that boy needs to learn to swim (doesn't need to become a great swimmer or anything -- just needs to alleviate his mama's fears of him near water). So far he's liking the class enough -- likes throwing the toys into the pool, puts up with the lesson itself, and usually is done about 10 min before class ends. Good enough.

This past weekend as we entered the gym, we were told that the manager had decided that children were no longer allowed into opposite sex locker rooms.

Excuse me? Why?

Because, in the manager's ultimate wisdom, "indecent" things happen in a locker room that the opposite sex shouldn't see. This leads to several questions:
1. Does this manager have any idea where babies come from? John has seen it all -- trust me.
2. Does an 18 month old really have any idea what he is seeing? ...I mean come on.
3. What the heck is going on in that locker room?? Shouldn't that be policed a bit more rather than keeping the BABIES out?

And their solution -- use the family changing room. Of course. Because having naked women AND men together is MUCH MORE APPROPRIATE.

For The New Baby!

2009-09-29T11:26:00.003-05:00

What do you really need for a new baby? I mean when you already have 1 child, so you've gotten all of the basic stuff?

Not too much. Maybe a double stroller. A new set of bedroom furniture.

But not too much else...unless you have an Aunt who is *very* generous...an Aunt who insists that for the new baby what you really need is APPLIANCES! YES!

Welcome to our new dishwasher and refrigerator!

Lil Lady Lydon

2009-09-15T10:13:00.004-05:00

The big news from the Lydon household is we're expecting a new addition (and I guess a new edition!) to join us in March. Our lil lady is due March 4, and caught mama and dada a bit by surprise!! We are SO excited, but honestly were not expecting the stork to drop her off so easily -- we had to go through IUI with John, and had an appt all set up to start our next round, when I started feeling a bit pukey...and food sounded gross...and I thought 'hey, wait a sec...' (well, actually one of my dear friends said to me "Are you pregnant?" while we were at lunch and I wasn't diggin' my turkey sandwich, to which I said "No no no. Can't be. Haven't started round 2 yet.") But I guess this lil lady takes after her mama and just wants to get things done. For which I am already grateful!

Now when I say we were not expecting this...let me really paint the picture for you. I was at work, after that lunch with my friend, and contemplating what I was going to have for lunch when I was pretty sure nothing would ever sound good -- and for those of you who know me well, you know I am not one to shy away from food...in fact one of my favorite lunchtime conversations is "What are we going to have for dinner?"

So I decided on my way to Panera I'd stop at the CVS and get a pregnancy test. Just to see. And that way I could take it in the Panera bathroom because our bathroom at work is SO GROSS that I could NOT subject this moment to that environment. So, I ordered my sandwich, and while waiting headed off to the bathroom. Took the test. And there was no hesitation in that bugger.

BAM. +. NO QUESTION.

I smiled and laughed...headed out to get my sandwich...with my little secret all tucked away in my head and solely mine for just a couple of minutes. Then I called Tom, asked him if he was alone or in a meeting (alone, good), and told him the news.

He actually said, "How did that happen?" Yes, shocked.

And apparently I was about 2 months along, which projected me straight to the top of the OB's "What the heck have you been doing? You must come in TODAY!" list. Hee hee. VERY happy to report all is A-OK.

Please meet Lil Lady Lydon:

Water

2009-09-11T13:04:00.001-05:00

Splash splash splash.

"Is something leaking?"

Lemme check.

"John! Take you hand out of the toilet. And your cell phone."

Preparedness or trickery?

2009-09-01T10:53:00.003-05:00

You need to be prepared. What if there's a flood? At night? And you need to be able to bring supplies to people who may be stranded in your living room? You just may need to wear rain-gear over your jammies while in a wagon. You never know.
Good thing we're practicing.

Or maybe your mama is just a little obsessed with cuteness and tricks you into these things.

Who knows.

Framed.

2009-08-18T09:47:00.004-05:00

Framing someone with a crime is easy. I've actually done it here, without even trying to. All you need to do is the set-up. Demonstrate that a person has motive and is capable of specific actions.

You all know John hates that damn White Sox gnome. (Motive -- check)
And you all know John threw him to the ground resulting in a broken gnome foot. (Capable of specific actions -- check check!)

After our fabulous nanny masterfully glued the gnome back together, somehow it ended up looking like this:

Now, whodunit??

All evidence points to John.

And John doesn't have an alibi (nor could he tell you one at this point).

Framed.

(The plot-twist confession: Mama did it.)

The pain of teaching

2009-08-12T10:00:00.003-05:00

It's so incredible and rewarding when your child learns something new from you. We're now working on teaching John where his eyes, nose, mouth, ears, fingers, toes, etc are. We have books about loving all the parts of him and as we read, we point out his features ("inside" is a hard one to point out -- any suggestions? Don't want to confuse it with "mouth" or "tummy"...).

And he's got a few of them down. He'll grab his toes, point to his tummy. But as I've said before, he is not the most delicate with his movements. He'll say "eye" and poke you right in the eye.
And then last night, while we were rocking in his chair and getting ready for bed, I was pointing his nose, and he reached up, and scratched a perfect little nail mark right into the bridge of my nose. Yes, he drew blood. But he's learned "nose"! Success.

Johnny Rotten

2009-08-05T13:30:00.006-05:00

Even before I was pregnant with John, Tom proclaimed he wanted to name his next son John. Not Johnathan, but John. I like the name John, but needed some rationale before I agreed completely to this name. Tom's reasons were 2-fold:

(1) His first son's name is 'Sean', which is 'John' in Gaelic and since Tom is 1/2 Irish he thought that was cool.
OK...this seemed like a good reason to me. Sean's awesome, so sharing his name is perfect. And the whole heritage aspect was pretty neat. (BTW, I'm part Irish as well...which I added silently to his rationale.)

(2) Tom always respected John Lydon (aka Johnny Rotten), lead singer of the Sex Pistols.
Wow. Really? OK. How to deal...think...do not agree instantly...must learn more about this guy before I agreed to name my first born child after some random punk rock singer. I mean, come on, "Rotten" is in this guy's nickname! Is that really a mother's dream for her child?

So I read Johnny Rotten's biography (albeit quite skeptically at first, I admit), and I must say, he was a pretty cool guy. The type of guy who challenged authority not just because he didn't like rules, but he wouldn't accept rules if they didn't make sense. He dressed...well...uniquely.

He didn't like it when his fans imitated his style, but rather told them they should wear what they want to wear, not just copy him. I like that.

Our John Lydon may be well on his way to a music career as well. Not sure about the whole "punk rock" aspect...currently he's more of a "Stomp your feet, clap your hands, let's get ready for a barnyard dance" type of musician.

But you've seen the headband. So who knows!

Mean Toys, Part 2

2009-08-03T09:18:00.001-05:00

You mess with the bull, you get the horns.
Bye bye, Mean Gnome.

Mean Toys

2009-07-30T12:37:00.006-05:00

Of course you want to give your child everything. All the cool new toys. Every great blinking/bubble blowing/self-propelled gadget around. All the fun educational toys that help him learn and also teach mobility skills and such. And once he has all the toys, you want to ensure he knows how to share. Playing is more fun if you share.

And then you meet the mean toys.

We have 1 new mean toy that taunted John yesterday. We were outside, and he spotted Tom's new White Sox garden gnome.

Cute right? And Tom had strategically placed him to peek out from our evergreen bushes. John saw him, picked him up, and hugged him -- so adorable!! Then carried the gnome to the walkway, gently put him down (well done -- 'gentle' is not always a word I would use for John's placement of objects), and then tried to play catch with the gnome. And I don't mean throwing the gnome -- I mean he wanted the gnome to share the baseball and let John play with it. John is a good sharer, and that damn gnome just wouldn't give up the ball! Mean mean mean.

John sought his revenge indirectly. He proceeded to walk over to our innocent second garden gnome (oh my...do we have a collection?) and knocked him over. See? If you don't share, I'll beat up your friends.

Mama vs. Sheep

2009-07-27T13:18:00.005-05:00

This weekend Tom and I took John to the Wicker Park Fest, where they had a Kids Fest section. Really cute, fun stuff like punk hair-dos and face painting...much of which John was too young for...but they had this music stage where John quickly became the dancer and made his mama and papa very proud...rock on.

And there was a petting zoo -- perfect! We paid our entry fee + the extra $1 for a cup of feed. We got into the "zoo" area and I had flashbacks to when Cindy and I were attacked by goats who had no problem jumping head-height on us to get that damn bag of food. And instantly I looked around and sized up the animals around us. Sheep, goats, huge geese, an enormous pig, and a hen. We were outnumbered. But I could take 'em.

Diapers, please.

2009-07-20T09:39:00.004-05:00

Will someone please improve diapers? Seriously. The diaper companies know they've trapped us. There's really no good solution. And those suckers just don't work well.

When John was a bity baby, inevitably every day he'd poop up his backside. EVERYDAY. And often it was multiple times a day. Come on. And once his poop leaked out of the leg of his diaper and ended up INSIDE MY SHORTS. It's been years since I had poop in my pants, and there I was with someone else's poop in my pants (luckily I'd given birth to him, so it actually wasn't that gross...). And yes, we were putting the diaper on correctly. And no, he didn't poop more than the average baby (but he did spit up more than the average geyser).

And now, still, every morning, he wakes up with wet jammies. What a sad way to exit dreamland! This weekend he was SOAKED. Sheet and bedding included. And he wears what claim to be "overnight" diapers. I checked with 3 parents and all 3 said their kids have the same problem. So that means the diapers have a customer satisfaction rating of 0%. But we're all still using them since there's not an option.

At least John's a happy guy in the morning, after we get the wet clothes off of him. I got him into a clean diaper and t-shirt and he said "I'm ready!" which means time to go downstairs (no pants required!).

But he was in his "Born to Rock" shirt, so he had to wear a headband (which Tom puts up with...and I think secretly likes...).

My son, Bob.

2009-07-09T14:34:00.006-05:00

I must remind myself that not everyone is familiar with children's gear. And I (often) make statements that just don't make sense once the words have come out of my mouth. And I'm sure the lady on the street corner was very nice, and probably brilliant in other ways...

There John and I were, waiting for the light to change. As usual, he was in his super-cool BOB Revolution stroller.

For those non-parents in the crowd, the BOB strollers are everywhere right now. It's like they've figured out a way to reproduce and have multiplied like rabbits at the parks. The models mostly look the same, so they're easy to spot from a distance. And they all have a big "BOB" embroidered on the front.

So there we are, standing on the corner, next to a lady. She had a dog, so we were quite interested in her. She looks over at us, takes in the stroller, and then asks John, "Is your name Bob?" To which I say, "No, the stoller's name is Bob." She thinks I'm being flip. So she walks away. But I'm being serious. And she took her dog with her, which was sad.

This makes me wonder, does she think there's been a slew of children named "Graco" recently?

Eat me. Drink me.

2009-07-06T10:07:00.005-05:00

You know how when you go to a restaurant and order dinner, the meal that your fellow diners ordered often times looks SOOOOOO much better? Eve if it's the same thing you ordered, for some reason they just got the better dish? Meal-envy.

And then you know how when you smell or taste something rotten (like spoiled milk), your reaction is to have whomever is with you smell and taste it as well? "EW! This is gross! Here, smell this."

These two things combine themselves in babies and you end up with these events:
1. Baby will insist your food is better than his, even when it's the EXACT SAME thing. Like Cheerios. The Cheerios in my bowl are just better. And there's no trickery here -- I cannot eat out of John's bowl to convince him that his cereal is really the better bowl. Nope. Mama's got the goods.

Really, I think his bowl is cooler, anyway. Maybe I should start eating off the Mickey dishes.

2. Baby will share food with you. And when I say "share food", I do not necessarily mean the food from his plate. Sometimes it's the food from his mouth. Pre-chewed turkey. Pre-sucked apple. I know sharing is an awesome thing to have a baby want to do. So we must encourage it...and...eat the turkey? Yes. This is especially amusing when done in public. Well, maybe not amusing.

Order and process. And pee.

2009-07-01T11:00:00.009-05:00

While I was pregnant, I read all sorts of books about what a baby needs, and the overwhelming #1 recommendation from all of the experts was: A baby needs routine. (I think "love" came in a close 2nd...).

With this in mind, we've tried to set up a schedule for John, which John modifies as needed.

Our planned bedtime routine:

6:30 pm -- bottle of milk and Curious George
6:45 pm -- upstairs for a bath or to change into jammies
7:15 pm -- in jammies, reading books
7:30 pm -- bottle of milk (yes, another bottle), rocking, nighttime music, snuggling, bed
8:00 pm -- asleep

John's morphed version of the routine:

6:30 pm -- bottle of milk and Curious George (good start!)
6:45 pm -- turn off the receiver, try to open the DVD player, try to play with the stones in the fireplace
6:50 pm -- figure out why the office door is closed
6:55 pm -- maybe time for a wagon ride??
7:00 pm -- get picked up by mom or dad and race the other one up the stairs (mom's fast)
7:05 pm -- escape the room dressed in a diaper and run into Sean's room to check and be sure it's all OK, and play the piano while there
7:10 pm -- get locked into the bathroom for bath time, push all of the shampoo and soap bottles into the tub, move the trashcan
7:15 pm -- Splash!!
7:20 pm -- mom wraps John in a froggy towel and rushes to get him diapered, lotioned and jammied, John brushes his teeth (yes! brushes his own teeth!), dad rinses the tub
7:30 pm -- comb hair and hang up towel
7:35 pm -- read books, find the Snoopy Sox Pez dispenser that plays music and *insist* and hearing...a few times...
7:40 pm -- help dad wind the clock, help mom select the CD and start the music (John is much better at pressing buttons than mom)
7:45 pm -- bottle of milk, rocking, talking, sticking fingers up mom or dad's nose, more talking
8:00 pm -- into the crib to "sleep"...most likely to talk more, since there is so much to tell George about the day!
8:15 pm -- help George escape the crib...be free lil monkey!
8:30 pm -- collapse and sleep with head pressed against the corner of the crib

And so you know the characters in this entry, here's George:

All in all, not a bad version of the original plan.

In the morning, we have a very quick routine. Tom and I alternate who gets John each morning (and we each wish secretly – and not so secretly – that John would sleep in more on our morning!). This morning was my turn. So it should have gone like this:

6:30 am -- John starts talking, wakes mom up
6:35 am -- mom has John's milk ready (after a very blurry trip to the kitchen), and gets greeted by a very excited boy who just LOVES the morning! WOOHOOO!
6:40 am -- milk has been drunk, time for a quick diaper change
6:45 am -- time to play!

But this morning, things did not go quite as planning. When I went to get John, he was not happy. His jammies were wet (I wouldn't be happy either). So I needed to change him. But he was crying. And didn't want to be put onto the changing table. So I tried to change him quickly. Which is so sad. Because then you have a crying boy who just wants to be held, but he's covered in pee and needs to be changed, and since he doesn't want to be changed, he's twisting and turning. Which is making the changing take longer and longer. And we're struggling with each other because he can't stay covered in pee but he just wants to be picked up. And it's *really* hard to change a baby while holding him. And I'm now sweating so I'm convinced he's too warm, but he's naked, so maybe he's cold. So if I could just get him diapered and dressed, I'm sure things would be better. But I've also convinced myself that I'm emotionally scarring him for life since he wants to be held and instead I'm pinning him to a table.

Of course, he recovers instantly. I am going to need therapy.

Sorry, John.

2009-06-29T09:30:00.008-05:00

Having a baby is kind of like having an attention-deflector. It doesn't matter how I look, as long as John is looking super cute people seem to assume I am as well (and I mean really doesn't matter how I look...I'm honestly not sure if people notice if I shower). And if I can't find anything matching to wear, all I need to do is dress John like me and everyone thinks we're adorable (I use this tactic often...see the 1st picture I posted...)

It's usually easy to keep John scoring high on the cuteness-scale since he is one damn good looking kid (if I do say so myself!)

But then yesterday happened.

We had been playing in the splasher-sprinkler thing...so he was layered in sunblock and soaking wet, and his diaper had split so those annoying jelly-like ball things were falling out everywhere. We took off his swim suit, did a quick diaper change, and it was time for dinner (hot dogs and tater-tots...and ketchup...and yes, we know ketchup isn't a vegetable).

He ate in only his diaper and a bib (I hear his Aunt Cindy gasping...). After dinner we put a t-shirt on him.

And then our doorbell rang. It was our neighbors who are moving out from across the street, with their little girl.

Let me set the scene:

Neighbors' daughter: Matching strawberry tank top and skirt, pink sandals, outfit complete with a perfect bow in her hair.

John: T-shirt, sagging diaper, ketchup on his ear, dirt between his fingers and toes, hair standing up every-which-way thanks to the SPF 50 that mama layers on that pale-skinned boy.

I described the scene to our nanny this morning and she asked if I was embarrassed...poor John!
But I can see how this happened. Our dear friend (and kickass photographer) Missy came over a few years ago, and asked if she could take some pictures of us *as we were*. With no propping...no changing...here's what we looked like:

Awesome picture. (Notice the beer bottle...the Christmas wreath on the garage wall...the sprinkler...) This is what John's contending with.

What goes up...

2009-06-25T09:28:00.008-05:00

I think everyone knows when a baby comes into the house, things have to be rearranged. Furniture gets moved in, toys go everywhere, and all dangerous items have to be moved out of the reach of the lil hands. As the body that those lil hands are attached to gets more mobile and that mind gets more curious, the "danger" items have to be moved higher and higher and more into the center of tables rather than the edges. So your home ends up with not-to-be-touched items on display in oddly shaped piles. My best friend's husband calls this stuff "sit arounds," which I like. All these things do it sit there. But they're pretty. And completely non-functional.

(Disclaimer: you *may* just get annoyed one day at the piles and throw it all away...cuz I'm not organizing it...).

In addition to the "safety" reorganization that you do, your baby does some rearranging of his own. Now all the items left within his reach have been sanctioned for his touch, so he touches them all. And carries them. Room to room. And finds great new places for them. And since you have to wrestle any non-approved items from him and deal with the related "I can't live without that butter knife!" fit, you relent and let him play with whatever else he wants. Including the TV remote which you swore up, down, and sideways that you'd never do.

Let's take a quick tour of our home:
Starting in the master bathroom, we have a wooden candle holder on the floor, Mama's toothpaste in the shower (yes, we each have our own toothpaste due to an unfortunate incident in college which ended up with my needing a fake front tooth), the pull-stick from our drapes leaning against the wall, Mama's hairbrush on the floor (but it is SO cute to watch him try to brush his hair!)...moving to the bedroom we have one shoe on the dresser, the Who Says Quack book next to the TV, Dad's alarm clock on the bed...we get downstairs and find Dad's toothpaste on the kitchen counter, Mama's sunglasses in the wagon, and...where the heck is my right sandal?

Found it -- on the bathroom sink, of course. I need a map.

And behind door #2

2009-06-22T10:10:00.013-05:00

I've heard before that for the 1st year of your kid's life you try to get them to walk and talk. Then for the next 17 years you try to get them to sit down and shut up. I even know a set of parents with 3 children who have decided they are not ready for their youngest to walk yet...so they knock her over when she tries (is it bad to laugh at that image?)

All those initial baby-firsts are so exciting...smiling, eating, rolling (which for my lil guy happened to be witnessed by the maid at our hotel in Galena -- such the show-off! And such the baldy too!)

First roll...

Then come the first steps. Awesome. He's able to move around so much more quickly...and able to fall so much further and faster! It's all a part of being a baby. I get it. Falls happen. Gravity's not a friend of baby-noggins. And it definitely won the battle yesterday -- 4 falls leaving multiple bruises on his entire face. Plus a scratch from who knows where.

(Yes, that's a bruise on his forehead.)

But then the real trouble starts -- the first DOOR OPENING. My lil man was always trapped in whatever room we were in. Like a jail of love and safety. Until last week.

Yes, he has broken out.

And this leads to 2 problems I encountered while showering:

1. Obvious safety concern of a boy on the loose.

2. Unfortunate alignment of our shower - bathroom door - front windows - neighbor's front windows.

Now I need to duct tape his butt to the floor. At least I like our neighbors.

GMC

2009-06-18T09:51:00.005-05:00

Father's Day is a friggin' gold mine for any retailer selling to moms of infants.

My son was born in March 08, so for his first Father's Day, he was 2.5 months old. My husband had *strongly* hinted that he wanted a new digital camera (to the point where the ad for a specific camera just happened to appear directly on top of our bar). Being the fabulous wife that I am (and because I, too, wanted a better camera, but don't tell him), I packed our lil guy up into his snap-and-go and off we went to our local camera shop.

When we pulled into the lot, my boy was sleeping happily in the back. Perfect! Snapped him out and go we did. Into the shop. The salesman acknowledged me immediately and indicated he'd be with us in just a couple minutes. This was a brilliant move on his part. I knew he saw me, and he knew I had a sleeping baby. His tactic provided just enough time for my son to wake up. Excellent. Introduction of the Gold Mine Customer. I had about 3 minutes until crying would begin. And the salesman, I am SURE, could see my tension. He walked over...

Salesman: Can I help you?
Me: This is going to be the easiest sale you've had all day. I need the camera. The one from the ad.
Salesman: I know which one you mean. Let me get it. Would you be interested in a package deal we are offering -- the camera plus its plush camera bag plus an additional lens.
Me (making eye contact with my 2.5 month old): Yes, yes. No problem. Sounds great.
Salesman (realizing he has hooked the ultimate GMC): How about a book we sell to introduce the various features of the camera? We also offer Nikon classes which will answer any questions about how to...
Me (seeing the squirming begin): Yes. I'll take it all. Please ring it up quickly.
Salesman: Great! Would you like help to your car? (Which he knew I needed since he had just sold me 2 huge bags of camera-related stuff and I was still carrying the snap-and-go. But at the same time, he didn't have to offer...so by extending this offer, he was somehow going above-and-beyond...helping the mom-in-need...which I knew then and still think is slimy. So I'm writing in green.)
Me: Yes. Let's go. Thanks. (Thanks? For taking advantage of the mama?)

Glad to report my husband LOVED the camera (so do I!). And he was thoroughly happy with and surprised by all of the bells and whistles...none of which have been used to date. All, please take this opportunity to admire the case + lens -- this is quite possibly the only time they will ever been seen...except by those who happen to be hunting for crumbs under our office desk:

And we're about to go through it again. My son is still not quite trustworthy enough to create some fabulous work of art for his dad. He'd at least taste the paint. He'd definitely eat the clay. So for one more year, I am the GMC. But this year I'm not going to the store. I'm sending my hubby with my credit card. Dangerous, yes. Easier, yes. And I'm all about the non-stress approach now...at least I bought him a card.

Next year, he gets a hand-print.

Goggles

2009-06-16T09:16:00.010-05:00

I'm sure everyone has heard a million times that when you're a mom, it's absolutely impossible to not obsess over every tiny thing that could harm your baby. True. And there are thousands of things out there to obsess about -- Did the kid in the swing before your baby just cough*? It's 71 degrees...should he wear a long sleeved shirt? Now it's 72, maybe he's too warm? The first time he has nuts, should we be in an ER just in case?

And then there are those crazy circumstances which completely sneak up on you. You think you are in complete control. You are happily driving along...singing "I'm Having a Meltdown" (which, BTW, is a fabulous CD!!) with your lil one clapping encouragingly, safely secured in his big-boy car seat.

And you sneeze.

I have never in my life been able to keep my eyes open when I sneeze. I've heard if you do, your eyeballs will shoot out of your head (picture stolen from MTV page. Please don't sue me.).

So after all the preparations, all the baby classes, all the advice (and advice and advice) you've gotten...after you have accepted that your child will not be abducted by aliens in the middle of the night even if the monitor is turned off...how is it that you have been completely blindsided by a sneeze that creeps up while you're driving?

I can only find one remedy to this situation (although I did have a vision of wearing goggles so that if I do happen to keep my eyes open, my eyeballs will hopefully remain somewhat intact. And I must admit that the current big sunglass trend isn't too far from this...).

I apologize now to anyone driving behind me. I am going to be that annoying driver you silently -- and not so silently -- curse for braking in the middle of the street for no apparent reason. Maybe I should get one of those tacky "Baby on Board" signs. (And coincidentally, the word for "thank you" in Lithuanian sounds very much like "Achoo". So achoo for understanding I had to achoo.)

*Shameless use of cute picture