20 Things You Need to Know Before Getting PREGO!

I wrote this with so many wonderful friends in mind! You will all be wonderful mothers and I can’t wait to see you in action!

1: If you think you are ready for kids, make sure your marriage is ready first! I have heard people say that they had a child because they thought it would make things better and strengthen their marriage.  Yeah, NO.  It doesn’t work that way.  In fact children make you fight more, and in an extremely passionate way, because you went through hell to birth them.  So NO!

2: Contrary to what your mother said about keeping your clothes on and legs closed in high school and college, you don’t necessarily get pregnant that easily.  There is a short window when the time is just right and if you get in just the right position.  Ha ha ha.  Or you lay in bed with your legs up in the air right after.  Ha ha ha.  Then maybe, just maybe, it will work.  But, maybe not.  So don’t stress.  Enjoy the husband.  Enjoy the sex.  And enjoy not having 5 minutes to get it done because your kids are about to wake up from a nap or walk into the room.  Seriously, it’s totally Gods timing and not your own, I learned this and you will too.

3:  Feeling hungry? Craving that piece of chocolate that you usually refuse because of the calories but today you decided it was totally worth it AND it tasted decadent? Oh, you’re bloated and a couple days late? No.  Couldn’t be.  But surprise! Bye bye sleep forever! You can’t believe it?  You’re so excited! You can’t talk to anyone about it but the hubs. You want to tweet and Facebook and Instagram the big news but you are only 831 hours pregnant or 5 weeks and you have to zip it.  Darn.  Call the OB and make sure it’s legit ASAP.  Oh, she won’t see you until you’re 6 weeks.  What?! You have to wait!? Ahhhhhhhhh!

4: FYI, if you think you’re going to get that ultrasound like every movie you’ve ever seen, think again. Brace yourself.  They are sticking a dildo up your hoo-ha.  For real.  It’s not the warm and fuzzy depiction of the gel on your tummy and the little round machine to hear the heartbeat.  It’s a vaginal ultrasound so make sure you’re nice and trimmed so no one gets lost in that jungle.  They have to do it this way because the baby is teensy and it is the only way to hear the boom boom boom that puts you at ease and makes you understand that THIS is happening.  They will give you pictures of something that looks like a bean.  You will heart it.  You will stare at it twenty times a day.  You will have to tell someone because if not, you will burst at the seam.  Ok, tell your mom, or your sister, or your best friend but then stop.

5: There is a reason you don’t share your ecstatic news with the whole wide world at 5 weeks.  Sometimes it is not the right time.  Sometimes things go wrong.  Sometimes your excitement can turn to complete loss and sadness and its nothing you did or didn’t do.  It’s just life.  And it sucks.  And it’s Gods will but you don’t want to hear that.  Nothing anyone can say will make you feel better so this is why you shut your trap about being pregnant.  It’s so easy to tell people you are pregnant but sooooo much harder to tell them you aren’t anymore.  So please, save yourself the pain if this turns out to be part of your story.  But don’t worry.  This is just a chapter and not the book.  Sorry, but you need to know this.

6: Everything is peachy until you hit 7 weeks and then your mouth starts to water and you want to ralph.  Things sounded good when you ordered them on the menu but now that it is in front of you, that first bite was your last.  Gross.  Can I get a milkshake? Oh, you may be one of the lucky ones that never gets sick or feels bad.  I don’t like you.  That’s not fair.  I realize that when people find out they are preggers they begin eating like the supermarket is shutting down forever when that little bean in your uterus is not benefitting or retaining any of the excessive weight you are so easily adding to Mr. Scale.  So stop.  Continue on your usual diet with an occasional dessert or crackers to keep Ralph away but no need to go cray cray.  Save it for the last month when you can’t do anything BUT sit and eat and the baby is actually gaining something.

7: You hit 12 weeks and you see the heartbeat the normal tummy way and in the past couple weeks you have an actual baby with legs and arms!! Wow!! Is it a boy or a girl? Ugh, you have to wait a couple more weeks.  But you got to see the bambino and that thing is so cute!! You can tell everyone and you’ve already Pinterested the best way to announce it.  Enjoy! Buy the bellyband ASAP because now you can’t button your pants and you are peeing every ten minutes.  Who are you?

8: Have I mentioned boob job yet? You might be in awe of the voluptuousness of the girls these days. They are big.  Take yourself to Gap Body and buy a simple pullover bra.  It is extremely soft and does the job of keeping them up without being uncomfortable.  They will get bigger like your butt, thighs, and belly.  Have a good time with that.  You may also wonder why your nipples are getting darker, my friend calls them chocolate pancakes, don’t worry, it is just so the baby can see them better and zone in on the milk.

9: The waiting game begins.  You obsess about the baby inside of you and long for the OB appointment to hear the heartbeat.  What if something has happened and you don’t know!? Relax. Groupon has a fetal heartbeat monitor listed this week.  If you think it’s going to help you sleep at night then buy it.  If you aren’t sleeping now then I got news for you darling, it gets significantly worse but that’s number —. Your OB doesn’t want to see you for another month.  That’s no fun.  But she wants you to go to this other place so the vampires can draw all the blood out of your body.  I am not lying.  What in the world are they going to do with 14 viles of your blood?  Look up OB Diagnostic Centers in the dictionary, vampire will be in the definition.

10: Sleep. You want it all the time.  Enjoy these months when you can come home from work and crawl into bed and tell the husband downstairs to eat some cereal.  Then remind him to bring you some too.  You may be able to sleep early in your pregnancy but sometime after 15 weeks insomnia hits and you spend random hours when you should be snoozing, looking up crib patterns from pottery barn on your iphone while he snores next to you.  Get use to this.  Once your little angel is here it will continue.  You will buy extra pillows to help you try and get comfortable but alas, there is no perfect position and you will continue to toss and turn for many nights to come.

11: You signed up for some classes at the hospital so you are all prepared and ready for birth.  I am laughing out loud now, can you hear me?  I did this.  They showed us videos, I felt prepared, I toured the hospital and got the low down on admitting.  We did an infant CPR class which is 100% worth it but now I can’t remember a single thing they said.  You can do infant massage, breathing techniques, breastfeeding preparedness and now I’m laughing harder.  Nothing will prepare you.  Honestly, go ahead and take them, it won’t hurt, but after two births I can’t say I used anything they told me.  The breastfeeding class was probably the biggest waste because putting a fake baby in a sling hold next to your boob is a joke.  Maybe taking a bee and letting it sting your nipple would be a better choice for what it really feels like.  Do not freak out if you are reading this as a mother of 10 and you’ve breastfed all your kids and loved it.  That is me too!  Best thing ever for me and my children but I’m just saying it is some serious pain during those first few weeks after the little one arrives and the class I took did not prepare me.

12: Wear tight clothes.  I’m going to say this again.  Wear tight clothes.  I did an experiment when I was pregnant and this is what I found.  On the days I wore loose fitting dresses and shirts, people told me I was huge, having twins, and wondered how I was going to go another 15 weeks.  And on the opposite spectrum, the days I wore something black and tight I was somehow the smallest pregnant woman they had ever seen and how could I possibly be 25 weeks. Buy black tight clothes and wear them all day everyday.  You are welcome.

13: Hmmm, Buy Buy Baby? Babies-R-Us? Where to register?  Poke your eyes out with needles.  This exercise will drain you and leave you having a tantrum on the floor like the two year old you will have in no time.  Registering for wedding gifts = fun! Registering for a baby you don’t even know how to hold = Impossible! Toys, swaddles, monitors, breastpumps, highchair, carseat, stroller, bath, towels, diapers, wipes and then they have it in 5 million brands and colors so have at it.  And they may not have it in the store so go online and check to see what other colors they have available and then magnify the picture so you can see the purple polka dots that make it tacky and start from scratch.  Quick side note: take a friend that just did this and make her register for you, tell her that’s all you want for a gift because it will be the best present ever.

14: Take a prenatal yoga class.  Not so much for the exercise, but so you can see that other women are going through the same things you are and they pee five times an hour too.  If you pick a place that specializes in prenatal yoga the teacher may also be a Doula and this is what you want to hear.  Who cares if you break a sweat.  This woman can tell you how she helped deliver a baby last night or had a problem with your hospital a month ago and they wanted to C-Section a mom before she was ready.  They can be a wealth of knowledge while giving you some stretching exercises to give your back ten seconds of relief.  The wonderful lady I went to made me laugh out loud when she told the class “Have your husband speak to your vagina at night so the baby wants to begin coming down the birth canal”.  Yes, this really came out of her mouth!

15: When you have your baby shower please don’t open every single present (unless its under 15 people).  Ain’t nobody got time for that!

16: You have made it to the last trimester! You go girl! Now stop and rest.  You can’t breathe and you are ready for this thing to come out but you have another 10 weeks.  Finish the baby’s room, wash the clothes, and pop a Tums.  No, it isn’t the throw up flu that keeps coming up your esophagus, it is that greasy hamburger you shoveled and the baby ain’t happy about it.  Keep a roll in your car for emergencies.

17: There is an alien taking over your body by this point.  When you lay on your back you can see things ripple across your stomach as they poke your ribs and kick your bladder.  This thing is nocturnal and the second you want to crash for the night, the alien wakes up and wants to party.  Oh darling, this is the beginning of the end, God’s way of getting you ready for many sleepless nights.  Start working on your birth plan.  Ha ha ha ha ha ha.

18:  C-section or vaginal birth? This will be the first of many political decisions you make for your child.  Do you want an epidural? Will you breastfeed?  When will you give them shots? When will you start solid foods? When will you let them cry themselves to sleep? When will you take away the bottle? What school will you send them to? The list goes on and on.  Don’t judge.  Just don’t judge.  Everyone has there own opinion but you are the mommy and you are right.  Do what you think is best and just smile and acknowledge all the advice people will give you.  They are always right and so are you!

19: This kid is going to come on his/her own time.   I ate every kind of spicy food, I had sex, I did jumping jacks, I walked 3 miles a day, I took crazy advice from clients and nothing worked.  She came a week late and I had to be induced.  I survived, you will too.

20:  I am going to end on this note.  Things begin to get a little graphic at this point.  I want to prepare you for a complete loss of all modesty once you enter the hospital for the birth.  They don’t care if you want your shirt on or your wedding ring.  Everything comes off and “buck naked” is the name of the game.  I died.  It is ok, you will get through this, every woman does.  The prize is almost in your arms.  The birth will be amazing and make up for all the yucky stuff you have to deal with after.  Buy tight fitting grandma underwear to hold in the massive pads you are going to have to wear.  Get ready for weeks of blood coming out of your hoo-ha.  Yes, this is true.  No one talks about this stuff but it is no fun and it is a need to know in my book!

I am sure I have forgotten so many things but this is a short synopsis of what I deem to be very important information for any woman that plans on starting a family in the next couple years.  It is a magical and emotional roller coaster.  You are beginning the most amazing journey and nothing will ever compare to this in your life.  PLEASE READ THIS NEXT PART CAREFULLY.  Enjoy all these firsts with your husband and newborn.  Sleep on the couch with your munchkin on our chest, snuggle extra long on Saturday mornings,  and take long walks holding hands and pushing the stroller.   Get excited when she rolls over for the first time and laugh out loud when her face puckers at the first taste of real food.  You will only experience these things once because when number two comes along, the first child will be body checking her and fighting for your attention they use to always have.  Oh wait, that’s my life now.  As I type this, my first is convincing my second to jump off the top of the couch arm and dive into a cushion only to be knocked off onto the ground.  And this lasts for 4 minutes until someone gets elbowed, kicked, or chips a tooth.  What happened to the snuggle time again? To all the awesome moms out there reading this, I encourage you to add to my list! Help other future mommies prepare for the inevitable and try to make them laugh while it happens.  I hope you are all blessed by the child that calls you mom and that God shows you the right choices that need to be made.

Xoxo,

Sleeplessworkingmom

“I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him”  1 Samuel 1:27

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Eat, Drink, and be Sleepy

L and her Horse

I definitely feel like my glass is half full these days instead of half empty like a couple of months ago, no it was completely empty. It has been a rough ride ladies (and a few sweet husbands), I am not going to lie. These two chickadees have given me a run for my pennies.  Ever since we sleep trained Honey Badger 5.0 things have been steadily improving. I cannot say I sleep through the night but, sleeping until 4am without having to listen to screaming is pretty close to heaven. It would be like having a glass of wine and enjoying an appetizer without monkeys climbing on your lap knocking your drink over and stealing your food…not that I know what that is like but I do dream of that place. The only mommy issues that are sending me into crazy town is that witching hour I have written about before. Remember how I vented to you about the 5-7pm time frame when my children cannot stop screaming and I want to scratch my eyes out? Yes. That still exists. How you say? Well it goes something like this…

After a full day visiting clients and being polite and smiley, I trudge through Publix in my heels wanting to rip them off and throw them in the gutter that I tripped on walking into the store. I am roaming the aisles trying to figure out what I am going to cook since it is 5:17 and I have got to stick a worm in my little birds mouth ASAP or bad things are going to happen. I have self inflicted guilt over the organic world vs the real world when it comes to serving my family food. When I buy all organic my grocery bill is astronomical and I feel bad. And when I buy things I know should be organic but they aren’t, then I feel terrible, like I am giving my children arsenic. Why oh why do I read every silly article on Facebook about food (from random sites I’ve never heard of) and think its the truth! I know organic is the best but does everything need to be organic?  When I grew up that word didn’t exist.  If someone would’ve asked me what it meant I would’ve replied “a home grown hippie person”. Now it is all over everything and a billion dollar industry.  I am totally guilted into buying everything organic and I don’t even know what all the benefits are. What is the benefit of organic clothing? I’m not knocking it, but seriously? You aren’t eating it and you don’t drink your clothes. Do the dyes seep into our skin and cause cancer in which case we need organic clothes so we can live longer? I don’t know. Send me an article on it. I promise I’ll believe it and do what it says. Back to Publix. Chicken it is. I’ll throw in a sweet potato and a bag of green beans and boom, dinner is served.

The garage door goes up and it’s game time. The two munchkins come bolting out of the garage thanks to the barking of a gigantic 5 pound Pomeranian who alerts them to my presence. I take a deep breath because the hunger games are commencing. No not really, relax. The screaming starts. L tries to help me carry a bag in and then C gets mad because she wants a bag too. Yes, please carry in the bag of Ruffles and drop them fifty times so I have to pool the crumbs in my hand and shovel them into my mouth to enjoy the flavor. Thank you. I immediately take the saucepans out and begin heating olive oil to brown the chicken. “I wanna go owside momma, what you dooding?”. “I’m fixing dinner my love, tell me what you did today”. She runs out of the room and I slip off my heels and regain feeling in the balls of my feet. Thank you cold tiles. I don’t have time to change out of work clothes because C is climbing up my legs shouting “uppa, uppa, uppa” and on the verge of a meltdown. With one (90th percentile in weight) child in my arms and L skipping around in circles, I give in and microwave the green beans and head to the swing set.

C has learned how to run, sort of, and knows that I HATE it when she climbs to the top of the slide, so of course she bolts out of the door heading to the bars so she can give mommy a heart attack. She flipped off of the top two days ago and thankfully landed on her stomach while I shrieked thinking the ER was eminent. Nope. She jumped up and cried long enough to prance over and want to climb again. I can’t handle another episode so I lunge towards her to keep her on the ground. She screams. She kicks. She yells. She arches her back and flails like an alligator on Swamp People trying to spin and break the chains of mommys grip. So sad for you mamacita. The Mosquitos are having dinner on L so our outside adventure is short lived. I drag them inside, much to their disapproval, and C throws herself on the floor with her bum up in the air for full dramatical effect. Perfect, if she screams for another 4 minutes that will be just enough time to cut up the food and fix me a drink, whoops, I meant them.  Of course, I didn’t pick out the spider man plate correctly and the hello kitty spoon for L so naturally she joins C’s pity party and starts jumping up and down and whining. So sorry I have failed you as a mother and I picked Winnie the Pooh. Thus begins the worst part of the night. If I can just make it through the next 15 minutes then its smooth sailing with bath time and books and wine for mommy.

Feeding my children is PAINFUL. I love them so dearly but I need straight jackets and ropes to tie them to there chairs for this time frame.  “Ok come eat!” I yell but I didn’t put the food in the right spot. “I don’t wanna sit there, I wanna sit where Che Che sitting”. Done. C refuses to eat. She looks at me and and puckers her lips. “No no no”. Yep. She can only say a few words and that one is part of her repertoire. “C take a bite it’s so yummy, see L loves it, mommy loves it”. Yeah, I got nothing. She gets up and chases the dog and I yell for her to come back and sit. Now, because I’m giving attention to C, L feels she needs to get up and chase the dog too. I didn’t want to have to use this card yet but, “no ice cream if you don’t eat”. Aaaaaaand they come back. L shovels food into her mouth.  This is her latest trick, she knows that if she puts too much in then she can’t chew it all and she is going to have to spit it out in the trash.  Oh I am on to you sister! You got me the first 6 times but these days you can go ahead and regurgitate that and enjoy it for round two.  C on the other hand could care less about food. She takes her fork and tries to nail L’s plate. I oblige her and stick some chicken on there hoping it finds its way into her mouth but no.  finds its way onto the floor for one millisecond before its gobbled up by our little dogcan. My mind starts to scream.  I have tried the high chair. That just makes her crazy and she screams and throws her food on the ground. She doesn’t understand the bartering at 18 months so I can’t say “eat a bite and you can have ice cream”.  All she hears is “ice cream” and she wants it immediately.  I start following her around the house with her plate of food trying to get a bite in here or there.  If I make it close to her mouth she hits it away and its immediately inhaled by the floor creature.  Occasionally she gets distracted with something and I manage to get a green bean in. Thank you Lord and keep it coming.  I hear L talking to someone so I peer around the corner.  She has the tail of the stuffed rocking horse pulled up and I hear her say “you have poop in yo’ butt?”.  “L, what are you doing????”.  “Momma I’m checkin’ for poop in the hosey’s butt”.  I just walk away.  I can’t.  I focus on C who runs over to the the patio door to see what’s going on outside and I get another airplane in her mouth. Oh wait, no, she smashes it on the glass.  Perfect.  I pry it off and add to her order with some sweet potato and I win. The score is 11 to 2. She’s the clear winner. No, I take that back, the dog is the clear winner.  I continue to threaten no ice cream for L.  I AM winning that battle. I read somewhere (probably on FB) that a child needs one solid meal a day and you should be happy if you get that. Well here’s to breakfast and hoping lunch was a success because dinner got an “F”.

I bathe them and water them and as I’m getting them dressed for bed L says “Mommy, why you have a rainbow on your face?”. “What? Where is a rainbow Baby?”, as I look in the mirror for a random sticker or something.  I raised my eyebrows and said what are you talking about? Where? And then…she points to my forehead.  SHE POINTS TO THE LINES ON MY FOREHEAD!  I want to crawl into a hole and die.  Please send me your Botox recommendations ASAP! I am trying not to be vain here but a rainbow on my forehead is about all this mommy can take.  Peace out.  If you call me and I don’t answer it’s because I’m calling my dermatologist.  Xoxo

 “I will give thanks to you, Lord, with all my heart; I will tell of all your wonderful deeds”. Psalms 9:1

Everybody Make Some Noise

I know. I know you think I probably fell of the earth. Sometimes I think I have too. The best thing in the world has happened! My party animal of 16 months has decided to rescue me from the psych ward at the hospital and let me sleep. Well kinda, sorta, maybe, not completely, but definitely with long term potential. Did you get that? Ohhhhh where do I begin? Should I begin with the story of how I contacted the baby whisperer? Or perhaps a couple incidents that led to the nervous breakdown and the desperation that provoked me to track the baby whisperer down? And by the way, I didn’t end up using the baby whisperer so this is where I am patting myself on the back. You must read on…

Chaos ensued, as it usually does as soon as they open their little eyelids in the morning. And by the morning, I mean anytime after 6, because at this point C was still waking up twice a night so naturally I had already seen the whites of her eyes too many times before 6am. C walked over to Pixie’s water and food bowl and proceeded to dump it all over and then lay in it like she was swimming and row her arms back and forth to make sure the small breed dog food flew all around the kitchen. Nice work C, A for effort. There was a knock at the door and in walked her swimming instructor which led to wailing and screaming with Niagara falls rushing my way. To get me back she decided to poop in her swim diaper during her lesson, and because she apparently doesn’t chew her food, her grapes exited out of the top of her diaper and floated around the pool…in whole form…for me to clean up later. 2 points for her. You would think this traumatic experience coupled with the fact that she doesn’t sleep at night would make her fall fast asleep…think again. She came out of the pool with more energy than she went in with and threw her angel smile on trying to show me how cute she could be. L, who is the original honey badger, even wonders how this new version can possibly keep going all day.

To the park! We had to kill some time before lunch and my house can only provide so much stimulation before it looks like a tornado attacked it. Well, it looks like that everyday so I take that statement back. L is now potty trained completely but insists on seeing every toilet God made so naturally we stepped foot on the playground and “PEE PEE MOMMA”. Yes, of course. What do I do with Honey Badger 4.0 while the original is dropping her drawers? How can I make sure C doesn’t lick the walls and floor (because she touches and mouths everything) while I am trying to make sure L doesn’t touch the sides of the public restroom? I had to hold C behind my back with one hand sideways while trying to rip sand paper, I mean toilet paper, off the roll and lay it neatly down with fifty sheets so that L stays sanitary. Anddddddd down go her shorts on the wet, nasty, dark and dirty floor. Well I didn’t like those Janie and Jack shorts anyway, I wondered if I could let her run around the park in her Hello Kitty underwear…No? I put C in the swing to contain her and let L run around the slide only to look down and see C sucking on the bucket swing. Why do I even wonder how they get sick.

I won’t drag you through my day but basically I ran into a woman and started telling her my whole life story. Surprising, right? I am an open book and my book always turns toward the sob story about no sleep. The woman tells me of a baby whisperer who changed her life. Yes, Yes, go on, go on, and then what happened? You lived happily ever after? I want her number. Awesome! How much would it cost? I didn’t care! Sign me up! How can you put a price on sleep! I contacted her ASAP. Cricket, cricket. No response for a week! How rude! If she ever called I wouldn’t use her out of principle! How can she wait so long!??? Two weeks later she called and that whole shpeal about blowing her off flew out the window. After I went over my life for the past 16 months, she told me it was all behavioral and she GUARANTEED she could have her sleeping through the night but I needed her for a minimum of 3 days along with being consistent with her plan for the following 2 weeks. Yes, YES, of course, whatever she wanted, here’s my social security, take it all. She was booked for the next couple weeks but had a few open days coming up next week. I called J immediately for his approval. This is where J and I differ. I am very impulsive…in a positive way of course. I think it’s a good quality however, J is very methodical and likes to analyze things for a while before making a decision. OH NOOOOOO, this wouldn’t work for me. We needed to act fast, she was going to book up! She’s awesome and perfect and did you hear me say she GUARANTEES her services??!!! Don’t you love me enough to do it right now? He wanted to know the cost which she was sending me in the next couple hours. Who cares!! It couldn’t be more than a couple hundred dollars! Where do I sign up?

When the email came and I opened it, I fell on the floor and started crying. Like real tears crying. Like my life was over crying. It was over. I would never sleep again. She wanted $1224 for 72 hours. Even if I asked for Christmas and birthday money ahead of time and then asked for J’s too I still couldn’t cover it and to be honest with you there is a really awesome pair of shoes I want. Just kidding of course, I would cut my finger and pour blood on paper if she would just sleep!!! But $1200 for 3 days was a little much even for me. Ugh. I even had a very sweet friend offer to give me the money, probably because she’s so sick of hearing about me complain! Like you! HA!

My next resort was to read every blog I could find on the internet. I googled “sleep training a toddler” and a thousand articles from specialists who clearly have no child like mine were giving advice. Thank you and good-bye. What turned out to be my saving grace were the comments, by the hundreds, of people who actually had real world experiences and spoke my language… the language of dark eyes, lots of makeup, and no sleep. These parents suggested I pull a couch/mattress next to the crib and let her know I was there but let her know she would not get picked up or be given milk. I was just suppose to soothe her through the little slats of the crib and tell her she wasn’t alone. BINGO. This gave me hope. The game plan was in place and the husband was given instructions. I went to publix and cruised the ear plug isle. No, no, no, no, YES! Soft wax ear plugs promising to shut out over 22 decibels of sound. Not quite enough, as C can hit an extraordinarily high octave, but I’ll take it. She went to bed as usual, J and I watched TV on the couch, and we hugged and kissed each other goodnight and prayed it would not be a horror movie. Scream 10 ensued. I was in and out of consciousness all night and my arm was in and out of the crib with a lot of “Shhhhhh’s”. The next five nights were more of the same. We gave each other pep talks and talked about how “surely this was working” and “don’t you feel like it was a better night?”. No. I finally spoke to my sister in law after a week and I told her I was giving up. I needed to accept the fact that this was my life. There would never be a third child in the birthing plan because the second felt like three, four, five and six. She told me not to give up, she told me if I gave up C would always get her way and I needed to stay strong. Yadda yadda yadda yadda. I am not functioning well these days and if there was ever a time for Botox it was now. My forehead looks like the bleacher rows at a baseball field and I’m hitting the nose bleed section. Please make it stop.

That night it was J’s turn. He decided to fall asleep next to me and go in later. I heard him get up around 2 and leave the room but it wasn’t because she was screaming, it was just because he was anticipating the screams. He came back in at 6:30 am and woke me up. Good news. She slept. All night. SHE SLEPT ALL NIGHT. Do you hear the words that are coming out of my mouth? SHE SLEPT! The pterodactyl, who usually makes the house shake and should be trying out for dinosaur movies in Hollywood, kept her trap shut. First night ever. Amen sister!!! I knew it must be a fluke but hey, who’s complaining?!! Not this girl!! The following nights were pretty good. Some screaming here and there but all in all pretty encouraging. Of course now she’s teething all four molars so I’ve got that. Thank you teeth, for screwing up what was about to be a fairy tale ending. I wish I could finish this blog with a goodnight kiss and a promise of REM sleep but last night was ugly and the last molar cut so I’m going to say adios and sayonara. I will try not to stay away too long and on that note I hear her screaming…again!
Xxoo,
sleeplessworkingmom

And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.
1 Peter 5:10 NIV

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You Can’t Handle the Truth

You hear bad stories all the time of kids doing gross things and you think “I am so glad that didn’t happen to me”. You should be thinking “Please Lord, don’t let that ever happen to me, EVER!”. Chances are it is going to happen. Maybe not, if you only have one child, but two basically guarantees a gross event to come into your life. This week my friend told me she walked into her daughters room when she woke up and her 2 year old was playing with the poop in her diaper and wiping it all over the crib and the sheets. I would have thrown up. Right on my child. And if I would have been pregnant I would have thrown up and then left my child in the room and called the police or my mom or someone who could handle that because when I am pregnant I can throw up at a moments notice. My poor friend. I feel for her. I should have never patted myself on the back after that call with her and thought “I’m so glad gross things haven’t happen to me”. I have changed my tune now.

C has been sick for what seems like eternity. She is now one and still does not sleep through the night. In fact, she wakes up 2-3 times a night which has left me like a walking zombie. I have serious bags under my eyes…like giant publix bags. Walmart bags. After one week of her cold, I felt that it may have crept into her ears and I took her in to the pediatrician last week to take a look. Sure enough antibiotics were prescribed and I thought she would be back to normal in a few days. Tuesday we had her one year check up scheduled and while she was still snotty, she seemed okay. Tuesday night she came down with a fever and after 3 days I took her back to see the doctor because I was not about to enter the weekend unprepared. I begged my way in. She had 101.7 fever and she was lethargic, still on antibiotics!! The nurse brought me Advil and the doctor walked in. I love my doctors office!! All of the physicians are wonderful but the two young ones are especially awesome because they have young kids and can empathize. I started explaining her symptoms to the doctor as C rested her head on my shoulder. All of a sudden I felt her burp and liquid starts pouring out of her. Kind of like when people funnel beer, except this was like funneling it out. I was in complete disbelief. This has never happened to me let alone baby C. I quickly faced her forward and a second round of … stuff… projectiled across the room. It hit the doctor and her gorgeous patent leather heels were covered with throw up. My mouth just dropped open. She brought me a trash can as C decided to hurl round three and she asked me if I could try and get some of it into the trash instead of all over the floor. Oh yeah, I guess that would be a good idea. Although I seemed to be frozen with her in my arms trying to figure out what was taking place. How was I going to keep her warm now that she was soaked in puke? I didn’t bring a back up outfit. Dumb. Poor thing. I put her down standing in front of the trash can and she didn’t move. I looked down to assess my damage and my cowl necked wool sweater had throw up hidden in the rolls and all down the sweater. I had streams rolling down my jeans. I threw up in my mouth. I wanted the trash can too but too many people were around. The doctor had left the room but not after cleaning some liquid off her shoes. She was pulling the troops together so the room would be cleaned. She came back and told me to take off her onesie and put her jacket on her to keep her warm. She told me not to give her Advil as she would not be able to keep it down. She told me to grab my things and go to room 7. This is why she is a doctor. I hadn’t moved yet. I was still trying to utter an apology and figure out how to function with puke hanging out so close to my nose. Thank goodness Superman arrived, AKA husband, and scooped up the baby and let me put myself together. Diagnosis: A virus. A virus? Antibiotics for a week with an ear infection and then a virus? I know, you are sooo jealous of me. Do you have children? Oh it’s coming!

This serves as a little snapshot of a day in the life of a sleepless working mom. Now pat yourself on the back and be glad this has never happen to you and then prepare yourself because you are next. I just sent you cooties through the blog. Enjoy. Xoxoxo!

“I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God. And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:18, 26-28 NIV

Remnants

I get out of the shower and check the situation out in the mirror. Things have definitely changed around here. While I can see my feet again (maybe it was better when I couldn’t because my toes still need a holiday at the spa), my body does not resemble the body I remember it to be. Call me crazy but I could have sworn I had six pack abs. Ok maybe not six pack abs but I could at least see the top two of the six pack trying to peer through the top of my stomach. And what is up with my gut? It shakes. It shakes and it looks soft. I mean it IS soft. Although I can squeeze myself into my old jeans, they don’t quite look the same. In fact, my skin/fat puddles on the top. What happened to my clothes? My cute clothes? My low waisted jeans and millions of wife beater tank tops? They don’t look the same. There is a roll that subtly effects the look of my tight tank top against my jeans. When does that plan on disappearing? I use to laugh at the spoof Saturday Night Live did on mom jeans. Tina Fey made fun of the high waisted jeans that aren’t so flattering. Now I sadly understand that skit all too well as I look in the mirror and see this skin my children gave me as a parting gift after pregnancy (I prefer to call it skin over fat). Those mom jeans go so high up your stomach they hide what may or may not be “hanging around”. A form of Spanx before they were invented! Genius!

What’s up with the dark line on my stomach 11 months later? Why did they name it Linea Nigre? It should be named “baby tattoo” or “I had a kid so don’t judge me”. I birthed two children, please don’t give me a dark arrow pointing downward. Or is that arrow suppose to describe the way my boobs are starting to go south? Another remnant of pregnancy. My boobs were always small but at least that had some sass to them. I mean at least they held there own. Now they’ve shrunk down to the beginnings of puberty and they have lost there spunk. It’s like they’ve fallen and they can’t get up.

Oh wait….haaaa-chooo…excuse me. I just sneezed…which is another remnant of pregnancy if you know what I’m saying. It’s something I thought only my mother experienced as she birthed 6 children, but no. I sneeze and, well, I can’t talk about it. But it’s not funny.

I’d also like to know what’s up with my hair? Someone must have given me a hair transplant in my sleep because this is NOT the hair I grew up with. Three months after I had L it just fell out. That’s not a typo. It fell out in clumps. Droves. My husband was worried and throwing up as he had to roto rooter our bathroom drain and pull out half of my head of hair. Then, when it finally began to grow back in, it looked like a chia pet and it came back in BLACK, not blonde, not dirty blonde, not even brown. BLACK. I used to get highlights every 3 months. Now I need a live-in beautician to highlight my black hair daily. At least with the second baby I knew it was coming. Just like clockwork, three months after she was born, it’s like you took shavers to my Pomeranian and my hair fell out. So now I have three sets of hair and they have names. First I have my Christy hair, or original hair, pre-kids that goes all the way to my bra line (scraggly and nappy). Second, I have my L hair…the hair that is now 2 years old and about four inches long. It looks ridiculous and it makes it to about my shoulders. And lastly, I have baby C’s hair that is about 1-2 inches long and sticks straight up all over my head. And it’s BLACK too. And frizzy. And a completely different texture. Annnnd it can’t belong to me!
All these things are reminders of the two little angels floating around my house who loved me so much they left remnants of themselves attached to me. Why thank you so much! I appreciate the parting gifts but please take them with you! My body kinda had a system down and those two little 9 month software installs have corrupted my hard drive. I do, however, enjoy eating sweets so please make sure my metabolism is up and running at record speeds so my diet won’t suffer…K-thanks!

That is why we labor and strive, because we have put our hope in the living God, who is the Savior of all people, and especially of those who believe. (1 Timothy 4:10 NIV)

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I’ll Wine With You

I should have known this day was going to be rough when C woke up at 12:30 am to begin her nightly conferences with our household. I have been trying to psych her out by using water for one feeding hoping she would get the picture and stop waking up for at least one of the many but no; she chugs it like it was the best milk she ever tasted. Finally after a couple rounds of go-to-sleep-wake-up it was 5:30 and I handed the monitor to J as he gives me a break on Saturday mornings and lets me sleep in. Peace at last. Of course my sweet little slumbering angels usually rise at 6:30 but because Daddy was getting up with them they decided to sleep in until 7:30. That would never happen on my watch. I heard him pick up baby C and then walk into L’s room. Then I hear pitter patter and a door slam followed by a few “oh no’s” and then a “Christy, C pooped all over the place, start the bath”. I’m UP!

J was out of town last weekend and I fully expected to use that against him and have him work overtime this weekend as payback…you weren’t suppose to read that part J. However, being that we are homeowners, we are slaves to the house and there is always something broken that requires his super human strength. Um, HELLO, I have superhuman strength too! I birthed two children! Our patio needs to be pressure cleaned and sealed, I almost think I want that job after my last weekend without reprieve but he is going to win this battle. J needed us off the patio to focus on his work at hand. Keeping a two year old in the house while she can peer out of the window and see Fun Dad is a bad story. Somehow she didn’t want to paint, color, play dolls, play in her room, read books, or play on the iPad. Nope. The only thing in the world to keep her from screaming and tantrums (terrible 2’s?) was daddy and he was busy. Awesome.

He finally finished his blue job (note, please see blog titled pink and blue) and came inside to lay on the couch. Big help. Again, where was he last weekend? Ohhh that’s right, he was GONE. Baby C naps in the morning and afternoons (because she never sleeps at night) and this gives me one on one time with L, which I love. Miami blessed us with a glorious Saturday and I thought maybe I would be able to lounge on a chair while L played on her “park” as she calls it, or swingset. She calls up to me, “Momma sit”, as she points next to her up high in the playhouse. I sigh, “No, momma is going to relax right here in this chair”. “Tired Momma?”. I must be lookin’ rough these days because even my 2 year old recognizes that I’m tired, lovely. Ok, so now I am climbing into the playhouse to play on the chalkboard and be Fun Mom. I layed down on the hard plastic that was not comfortable but I wasn’t complaining, at least I was horizontal. I’ll take rest anyway I can get it these days. She layed down next to me and turned her head to look at me. This was one of those – where did my little 7 pound baby go? – moments. I blinked and she went up and down the slide 5 times. And no matter how hard I push her on the swing she repeated the word “high” nonstop. I screamed up to the house for J to come out and join us outside AKA mommy needs a break. He waltzes down and lays on the lounge chair. Uh, not what I had in mind…switch! Of course the second I plop down to relax I hear the oh so common cries coming from my friend Mr. Video Monitor. I grab C, change her, and take her outside to play with L. She is mobile, she does not stop moving, our dishes are done. She flies all over the house and backyard. Her favorite pasttime outside is to eat the rubber mulch under the swingset. Should this be a red flag? I know when you are pregnant if you crave metal that signals some kind of vitamin difficiency. Correlation of rubber mulch and ??? Greeeeeat.

There is no reason to drag you through the intricacies of the rest of our Saturday except to fill you in on two key stories. The first was when J informed me that as he was jumping in the shower L pointed to the hair on his chest and told him he was dirty and then she pointed a little lower and said the same thing. Uh L? That’s hair and thank you for the laugh out loud moment. The second was when I casually look over at L as she’s attempting to pick up C (who weighs 5 pounds less than her) and carry her across the room, only to result in a crash on the floor and a screaming baby. I ran over, picked her up, redirected her, and she was fine. Fast forward an hour to bath time and as I was pulling off C’s clothes I caught a glance at her smile. My sweet baby who has only 5 teeth was now giving me a snaggle tooth smile with a giant chunk missing out of her front left tooth. LOVELY. How exactly am I going to photoshop every picture of her smile for the next 6 years? Is there an app on the iphone for things like that? I am closing this blog with one of those Ecards floating around the internet which pretty much sums up my evening on this lovely Saturday…

I’m having fruit salad for dinner.

Well, it’s mostly grapes actually.

Ok, all grapes.

Fermented grapes.

I’m having wine for dinner.

Thank you Lord for getting me through this Saturday…I have no verse to apply except to be thankful that I made it through the day and that my children are healthy except for C’s new funny looking smile. Please don’t let her little tooth turn brown, that would not be good. Amen!

CAUTION: POTTY TRAINING AHEAD

Oh, how should I start this? Is there a polite way to discuss the toilet and toddlers? I am going to say NO.  My grandmother would have been appalled if she read this posting…Nana, EAR MUFFS ON!!  L has reached the point where we are ready to save some money and have only one child in pampers instead of two.  We began discussing going to the bathroom about 6 months ago.  She would follow us in to the bathroom and stare at us wondering what was so interesting about this lone chair with no table next to it.  She finally began peering through the sides and crevices to see what the noise was and other things too.  This freaked J out.  He felt violated and uncomfortable even though L was not paying attention to what was attached to him but more interested in why things were landing in there.  I finally broke down and bought one of those little training toilets.  Have you been to BUY BUY BABY and seen the wall of toddler toilets? OH MY GOSH!  Unbelievable! We are too spoiled in America! A toilet that sits on the big toilet, a toilet that sings when liquid goes into it, a toilet without a lip (for boys I presume), a toilet that is white, black, blue, pink, purple.  A toilet with Dora and then one with Thomas the Train.  I was with my mother and we both just stared up at the tall wall covered with obnoxious potty’s.  I was so in awe of this wall that I just picked the one within reach and walked away completely overwhelmed.  Is there a good way to potty train versus a bad way?  My sweet best friend sent me a manual on potty training and I was never able to read it because I can’t even finish reading a long text message at the end of the day without falling asleep.  We were just going to figure it out as we went. 

 I brought our new blue and green potty home and made a huge deal about it.  “Look L! How fun! A toilet just for you!”  She thought it was a stepping stool.  She thought it was a chair to read books on.  She thought it held a few toys.  I told her it was suppose to be in our bathroom just for her.  That didn’t really entice her.  I brought it into the kitchen area and told her she could use it here or there.  Not impressed.  If we did manage to get her to use it she would completely disrobe and just sit for a second and then stand up and clap and say “yay!”  It was way more trouble than it was worth at this point.  My mother in law would take L on occasions and seemed to have no problem getting her to use her facilities.  L  would say “Nana pee pee” and run to the bathroom.  Not at our house.  After months of constant laundry we finally went commando for a couple days.  We let her roam free, if you will.  Oh and don’t forget the M&M’s for bribery.  I have heard stories about potty training boys and throwing fruit loops in for target practice, well at this house its all about the chocoalate.  “Em-a-ems”, as L calls them.  “Pee pee mama, em-a-ems?”, “Yes, L, M&M’s”.  She began working the system, holding some back and telling us “mo” after she had downed a couple chocolates.  We caught on pretty quick to her operation however we were pretty proud of her accomplishments.  After washing what seemed like 500 pairs of Hello Kitty and My Little Pony underwear, she had finally mastered number one.  On to number two.

Number two eluded us at first.  It proved to be a more difficult task.  I don’t know why she preferred to keep it in a diaper as opposed to dropping it off but it’s hard to rationalize with a two year old about why you don’t want that stuck to you.  I think it scared her to part with it…gross.   She made it more difficult on herself by holding it in for days and then basically losing 5 pounds.  She was an opportunist, waiting until we would put her in a nighttime diaper and then casually leave the room to “get something” and unload.  So frustrating!  I would catch her and try to drag her to the bathroom to finish and she would squat on the floor and assume the position.  Oh no!  It wasn’t until we had family over one night that she wanted to venture onto the porcelain for a show.  We have learned that our sweet, beautiful, L likes company…lots of company.  AND, she likes to take her time.  L doesn’t just do a symphony; she does a 45 minute movement.  Compare it to Mozart if you will.  She wants you to come and sit down next to her, maybe sing a few rounds of “The Wheels on the Bus”, or “Itsy Bitsy Spider”.  But if its time to push she will stick her hand up in front of her like a stop sign and give you a signal to be quiet.  Or, if you try and clean her up, she will stop sign you and say “mo, mo”.  No joke.  I am usually the one stuck hanging out with her and just when you think she is done, another pound comes out.  I brought my computer in with me the other day and managed to go through 10 work emails while trying to entertain her (women have an uncanny ability to multi-task).  She has become chatty kathy and loves to talk about everything when she’s in a stationary position.  She wants to discuss my outfit “new momma?”, “no, L, my shirt is not new, thank you for asking”, “outshy?”, “Yes we will go outside if you hurry up and it is not dark when you finish!”. 

The final task of potty training is venturing out in public and leaving the safe environment of your house where you can change their clothes if they have an accident, and they can touch whatever they want because you know it is clean.   The first outing was to Publix to pick up a couple things and we would be gone 30 minutes – max!  I was crazy and neurotic in the store, running up and down the aisles trying not to ask her if she had to go.  We made it all the way to the car and as I’m buckling her in she says those two words…”pee pee”.  Ugh, so close.  She was a trooper though, I put a diaper on her standing up and she went, and we were off.  Thank goodness no public toilets!  Just a tip for you mothers out there, a good friend of mine takes her little portable potty in the trunk of her car everywhere and lays a diaper in the bottom so when her child feels the urge, he goes right into the diaper in the potty and then she throws it away.  Genius! I hate that little potty so much that as soon as L felt comfortable on the big toilet that thing went into the garage ASAP. 

 My first public toilet experience with L was at Fudruckers for lunch with the grandparents.  I begged her to wait until we got home but she was thrilled to use someone elses bathroom.  I put down an entire roll of TP so she wouldn’t touch anything gross and of course she touched everything.  I pretty much bathed her in the sink and wanted to throw her in the bathtub when we got home.  That’s definitely where potty training little boys is a bonus, you don’t have to touch those nasty seats!  I knew the time was coming when number 2 would be in a public place and I would be able to conclude my blog about potty training.  I did not, however, think it would be yesterday at the Viceroy Hotel’s poolside bathroom with 200 people hanging out in tiny bathing suits with only 1 toilet.  How could I tell L that she had to wait until we got home? She had ingested a bucket of chlorine swimming with her cousins and from what my pediatrician says, chlorine is like an enema to kids.  It was going down… the drain…ASAP.  There was nothing I could do, I was at a loss.   I just sat there with L, in this modern bathroom, with my niece who was eight years old and shocked at what was occuring.  People knocked, but when I quickly opened the door and flashed them what was going on they just smiled at us.  And if this wasn’t enough to make you laugh out loud, when we went back to our lounge chairs, L decided she had an itch right in her bottom and pulled up her dress to show all the people laying out behind us while screaming “eeeeech mama, eeeeech”.  Oh I was embarrassed.  Very embarrassed.  I just looked at J and said “let’s go!!”.  And thus concludes my potty training blog.  Thank you for reading it until the end, I know you probably wished that you didn’t right now, but if you’ve already been here then you are glad it is over and you are laughing.  And if you are getting ready to experience this…then good luck! 

“No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.”  Hebrews 12:11

 

Beauty and the Beast

I am learning that you have to pick your battles. First, it was picking my battles with the husband. And now, it’s picking my battles with beauty and the kids. Now that C is walking I am officially in trouble. I thought crawling was bad because she was like a little crab clawing across the floor. Then she stood up and immediately power walked into a run, and she has not slowed down ever since. If she isn’t bobbling around then she’s having a tantrum and screaming to be picked up. At one time we thought three children was our number. Now we realize two is good. Two means everyone has one on one man coverage. And really, that isn’t even fair to say because daddy works late most days AND he’s a novelty. Everybody loves Daddy, he does no wrong and he is super fun all the time.

In trying to juggle two mobile children I have to pick the things I want to get done. I am on a two week vacation from work for the holiday season and being a full time mommy is no easy job. God bless all of you who stay at home all day. You are a force to be reckoned with. I struggle to feed the kids breakfast and get a load of laundry started…and that’s a good morning. The house looks like someone has broken in and ransacked the place and NO they have not, it’s just mommy surviving. L has actually become a huge help to me. She is much more of a neat freak than I am, thankfully, and has no problem cleaning up her toys if I remind her. She is finally potty trained and I can now stop ordering two cases of diapers a month from Amazon thank you very much. One down, one to go. Oh, potty training is another blog entry altogether. I am working on posting it but it is not a polite conversation to have therefore I am trying to make it classy which is a joke because it’s going to talk about poop so how classy can it really be!? Back to my point…

Yesterday L was napping and C teased me with a quick 30 minute snooze, just enough time for me to clean up the kitchen and bathe myself including using a razor…exciting stuff! As I stepped out of the shower I heard her screaming and I rushed into the girls room to grab C so she wouldn’t wake up L. I still needed to dry off and have the mirror point out my flaws and remind me to take care of my eyebrows. I put C in the bathtub/playpen fully clothed and hoped there wasn’t water hiding in any toy that would soak her. Perfect, time to moisturize my face and legs. Whining and crying ensued, the tub didn’t do the trick, she wanted freedom. This is where I mentioned picking my battles. My hair needed to be blown dry, my face needed powder and blush, and mascara needed to be applied. Only one would make the cut. C was opening all my drawers fishing through hair ties, toothpaste, and then I looked down and found her chewing on a tampon (new and in the wrapper), I yanked it out. I grabbed the brush and began untangling my hair only to find her playing in the toilet! I had looked away for one second! How did she douse herself with liquid that fast? I grabbed a towel and started cleaning the floor as she completely unrolled the toilet paper until it was empty in a pile on the floor. Forget it! Beauty can wait! I’ll just put on some sunglasses and wrap my hair in a bun. Call me a disaster if you must but how do people wear makeup and do their hair all in the same day!? Go go gadget arms? I need them.

I believe that if I am not holding C or walking next to her she has a sonar that picks up on all things she shouldn’t do. Plant mulch and dirt in the mouth, check check. TV remote thrown on the floor and mouthed, check. Pixie’s dog food, delicious, check check. And her absolute fav, toilet water. Oh so fun! I was actually putting clothes away in the girls room this morning and C went into stealth mode. It had been 3 seconds which meant 2 seconds too long. She went on a fishing trip to Lake Toilet and caught some toilet paper courtesy of a newly potty trained sister. By the time I arrived she had tasted it and thrown it on the floor. I know you are all throwing up right now and I am sorry to be so graphic but this is reality ladies (and a few husband friends). I am living it. She went into the bathtub ASAP with a heavy scrubbing. I’ve enlisted L to help me control the situation but she naps for three hours in the afternoon and C only naps for one so its two full hours of chasing her and playing in baby jail. You know, the confining gates that every child loathes. She shuffles down the gate looking for holes to crawl through and most of the time she finds a way out. It is because of this active child I cannot scrub the floors, clean the kitchen, and maintain 10 loads of laundry a day. The house is looking forward to my return to work, if I do not go back soon it may just deconstruct on its own from the chaos. Beauty will hopefully return in the form of makeup on my face and a blow dryer in my hand, something J has missed, and the beast will be gone until the next vacation.

A verse females should always remember…
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. (Proverbs 31:30 NIV)

Peace Be With You

I am sitting outside, in the dark, on my patio trying to decompress and reflect on the day I have had.  Miami is beautiful, especially in the fall when the temperature drops below 90.  The evenings can even give you a chill at 70 degrees because of the humidity that comes with the tropics.  I think many of you who are my faithful readers, feel that I am having a nervous breakdown half the time dealing with my children and working, however, I am just trying to make peace with my life and give you a quick laugh so that you may get through your own trials and tribulations.  I would not change a thing…okay, maybe just the sleep that my 9 month old deprives me of but, I have learned to cope with that these days too. 

The Monday after any holiday weekend is rough, but the Monday after the long Thanksgiving weekend is such a tease for the upcoming Christmas holidays.  Sigh.  It was so hard to get through Sunday just knowing I would have to say goodbye to my babies and work on Monday.  Wait, something just moved 20 feet from me in the bushes.  I am telling myself it is a large ant.  Okay, Moving on.  My Monday was no different than others, besides the extra five solid pounds of pumpkin pie and turkey weighing my gut down, no lie.  L spent the day with her Nana and decided against nap time.  This should have given me my first clue as to how my evening was going to shape up.  She does NOT do well without a nap.  In fact, it sends her into a crazy state of mind as if she has swallowed some kind of caffeine pill.  She is fine around other people but I guess she feels most comfortable to let loose around those that love her most, which therefore brought out my honey badger.  She was insane in the membrane.  L would pick up a ball and hit her sister on the head and laugh, she proceeded to straddle C and ride her like the rocking horse in the living room.  She started jumping up in the air and crashing down on her knees, which would make most children scream in pain, but she just patted them and grunted.  How often can you stick a 2 year old in time out?  And how long is it suppose to last?  I can hardly walk away from her door because I feel so guilty…not tonight.  Tonight I shut that door and took a walk to the kitchen to take a breather and make sure C was not pulling down the Christmas tree that she is obsessed with.  I heard L screaming and throwing things.  Awesome.  She came out of time out like nothing happened two minutes later.  She didn’t even have a red face when I opened the door.  Drama like her mama.  

We are in the process of potty training.  The pee pee part is going well besides an occasional faucet down the leggings but all in all I am pleased.  Number two is eluding us and leaving surprises in the undies that are not so fun but I feel we are moving in the right direction.  We have one of those little potty toilets we keep in the living room.  I have come to hate it.  It is just gross.  I don’t like to look at it and I especially hate that C loves to crawl towards it hoping to lift up the top and pull the bowl out.  Blech.  L gets an M&M when she has successful results so I am convinced she holds a little back everytime to ensure extra candy.  Just a thought.  I have to rinse out that nasty bowl after every episode and I almost throw up in my mouth.  Ugh.  Tonight L was washing her hands in the sink and I told her she was never allowed to touch the bowl and that Mommy and Daddy were the only ones allowed to touch it and clean it.  I should have known better.  She reached for that green thing so quick and dumped it right over.  Timeout number three for the night.  I had only been home 45 minutes. 

On Monday nights J goes to a bible study and doesn’t get home until 9:30 which leaves me looking at my watch often.  Nana invited us over for dinner, thank goodness, so I thought putting them in there PJ’s would help eleviate the chaos when we got home later.  I packed the girls up and drove a couple blocks away.  My sweet niece that is 12 was waiting to relieve me.  Love her.  If I could convince her to drop out of school and raise my children I would.  I plopped C in the highchair and proceeded to feed her dinner.  She actually ate the jar of baby food which does not happen very often.  I also fed her pieces of whole wheat bread which keep her little fingers busy picking up.  I love not having to worry about dinner.  Thank you Lord for mother in laws that live close by and cook like Martha Stewart.  L was busy running in circles and drawing on random pieces of paper.  Her favorite color is blue and it is what she chooses to color with as her first choice.  The only blue marker in the house looked, how do you say, not crayola-ish?  I told her “no”.  Somehow she managed to grab it.  The next thing I know I look over and her mouth is blue with no ruby red lips to find.  There is more. 

As I sit down to enjoy my perfectly cooked lamb chop, baked potato, and asparagus, with C in my arms, she proceeds to hurl her winter squash and turkey with bread all down my entire shirt and jeans and all over her PJ’s.  I run outside to the patio.  More projectile vomit and then a big smile and baby talk.  Awesome.  I was so thankful I was a little stuffy and couldn’t smell that famous smell.  I ripped off my drenched shirt only to put on my mother in laws sleeveless workout shirt with gaping sides so that you could see all that isn’t there.  Then I hear “pee pee”, I run L to the bathroom and when I leaned down my favorite pair of Havaiana flip flops broke.  Excellent.  Party was over at this point.  C was naked with a diaper, L was red faced and restless, and mommy was straight out of Wal-Mart at 3am, barefoot.   The kids are now asleep and all is well.  No more chaos for tonight.  I am thankful the day is over.  I am not anticipating a good night sleep but I am anticipating a soft pillow and a warm husband on this 69 degree Florida night.  There are so many other things to worry about in this life, throw up and pee pee are not one of them. 

“Lord, you establish peace for us; all that we have accomplished you have done for us.” Isaiah 26:12

Chick-O-Cheat!

Lets be real here. Dressing up a barely two year old and an eight month old in itchy tool and polyester outfits, and dragging them around with buckets so that they can get candy that you’ll never let them eat, is a bit ridiculous. However, this is exactly what I rushed home from work to do on Wednesday. Of course I HAD to go by Publix first and spend 20$ on two bags of candy (candy is expensive!) and I thought about picking up dinner, but I cancelled that thought because I’d much rather eat my dinner calories in Snickers, Sweet Tarts, and Reese’s. I ran in the door and said “L! L! Lets get your costume on and go trick or treating!!!”. It was followed by her looking at me bewildered and saying “no, park”. Apparently she didn’t understand what the pumpkin at the front door meant. It was time to show her how fun dressing up can be.

My sister gave me a huge bag of Disney princess costumes that she had saved for the girls from her daughter. I brought it out of hiding last week to fish out some costumes and was definitely more excited than L was. C and L were going to wear matching Tinkerbell costumes. How fun…for me anyways. I actually had two choices for L, Tink and Minnie Mouse. She could care less about either, I guess we haven’t hit the princess stage yet, I should be happy about this. I put Minnie on her first and made such a big deal hoping she would love it. Nope. She started screaming “Off! Off!”. The scratchy material against her baby skin was not feeling so good. I then started to put on Tinkerbell and she melted down on the floor. Greaaaaaat. Oh well, she’ll love it next week for Halloween. Fast forward to the 31st again.

I rush into my room trying to get out of work clothes and into walking clothes and all the while I’m telling L to get dressed. She is not acquiescing. I finally bribe her with “We are going to see Jack! You’ve got to get dressed!”. She’s is obsessed with her best friend Jack and if he is involved in anything then she will do it. Score! Too bad she’s not seeing him until we hit the church for a harvest party in an hour. Right as I get L dressed and run to grab a diaper for her naked bottom, the Pediatric Gastroenterologist calls. I’ve been playing phone tag with her trying to figure out why C refuses to sleep and hoping it’s the acid reflux. Oh, I know you all want to hear about how I’m still not sleeping, but that story is really shaping up to be a novel, and a thoroughly depressing one at that, so we will stick to Halloween for now. The doctor is asking me a million questions therefore, to keep L happy, we go outside to the backyard. She’s barefoot and chooses to rub her feet in black dirt. Whatever, I have wipes and she will bathe later. Then she picks up the bocce balls and hurls them onto the stone patio. It’s all I can do to redirect her and grab the last two out of her hands. To top it off she looks at me and pees on Tinkerbell’s skirt. Minnie Mouse it is! I get off the phone and rip off Tink. Minnie is not going on until we have a diaper on that tush. I am suppose to meet a friend in the neighborhood five minutes ago and I am running on empty. I load the girls into the double stroller and take off.

I walk L up to the first house so excited to document this milestone. “No”. Followed by “Nooooooooooo” in a whiney voice. I try to convince her how fun this is. Ok so I drag her up to the door and knock. She tries to hide. It’s showtime, “say trick or treat L!”…”Chick-o-cheat!”. Precious!!! We meet up with Little Red Riding Hood and the candy is commencing! C, at this point, is not digging the stroller so I abandon ship and put the Ergo on. If you don’t have a Baby Ergo I highly recommend buying one. It is a million times better than the Bjorn and doesn’t hurt your back at all! We begin coaxing the girls down the street and pushing them towards people’s houses. It’s a bit challenging, I’m not going to lie, we have to knock on the door ourselves or point to the doorbell. The good news is my neighbors buy great candy! I’m definitely chowing down tonight! L even tries to grab extra’s, she must have known she had to share with mommy. After 7 houses I’m happy with the acquired loot and we walk home to continue our night at the church festival. 2 hours later, after bounce houses and pony rides and lots of sugar L is having tantrums and saying “EAT!” This is the first time she’s ever said this word and I am clearly a bad parent for not feeding my poor child and expecting her to survive on a pack of skittles. We finished the night with a much needed bath, nu nu’s for L, and some fabulous candy…in my belly. Happy Chick-o-cheating!!