Back With a List

I've caught some sort of goop that's left me miserably croupy, and cold meds make me completely loopy. And as I drift in and out of consciousness on my couch, I am daydreaming of a day in which I could just stay in bed and sleep. Unfortunately, with a not quite two year old running rampant in the house, that is a luxury I do not have. So today's post is dedicated to reasons why mothers should be allowed sick days, or reasons why one should not blog while hopped up on cold meds, whichever more suits the bill. So without further ado, I leave you with the top ten things (Letterman style) my boys love to do when I am sick.

10. Trash the house. This should be a given, but there are those out there who are not yet parents and therefore not fully aware of a young child's 'parent is in the next room and too stupefied to move so lets massage grape jelly into the kitchen floor' philosophy.

9. Pull pillows out from under my head while I lay in surrender on the couch.

8. Host Scooby Doo Marathon days. Mom doesn't have the energy left to protest the multiple hours worth of consecutive Scooby Doo Dvd's that have been popped in her 5 disk DVD changer. And SOMEBODY (cough cough SMOOCHIE) knows it.

7. Interpret half hearted grunts as the answer yes to questions like, "Mom, can I have MORE CANDY?"

6. Chase each other around the house wearing nothing but underoos and diapers making monkey noises.

5. Giggle in a sadistic way while trying to see how high the rotini spaghetti needs to go into the air before making an audible splat on the floor- in the name of science, of course.

4. Take up target practice by aiming the newly issued Christmas nerf dart gun at the unwashed dishes sitting on the kitchen counter instead of windows and doors.

3. Be grateful mom takes on the 'just don't aim it at your brother's forehead' approach to her day.

2. Attempt to hang dirty socks from the Christmas tree.

1. Remove all jammies from the jammie drawer, spread them in a fine layer across the hardwood floor, then take a running belly flopping leap, slip and slide style. Implement a point system and see who can achieve the most air with the least amount of injuries.

Tantrums 101

Critter will be 2 years old in just over two months. I'm pretty sure he's a little go-getter because he's got a pretty hefty jump on just what it means to be a terrible two. To detail the specifics, he is strongly opinionated, screeches orders (that he fully expects to be obeyed IMMEDIATELY PEOPLE)no one but he can understand, and has been working hard at mastering the tantrum. As I've been watching him work earnestly at developing his tantrum skills over the past few weeks (months), I've also watched him develop a set of his own rules to further his objectives. He adheres strictly to his rules, and shows initiative when following them and flies by the seat of his pants when necessary- he should go far in life with his keen ability to 'wing it'. I tried to interview him for a tantrum article on my blog, but when approached he ran in the opposite direction screaming, "Goo Dish Kapoosh!" and went all paparazzi hater on me. So I will share with you a list of the tantrum rules that he previously provided for me instead.

Rule #1. When throwing your person on the ground, you must be aware of the possibility of hitting your head too hard on the floor. You can choose from the following two concussion free drop techniques: either knees, belly & arms, head, OR butt thump, yoga roll down, light head thump. Feel free to mix it up for variety.

Rule #2. Diaphragm diaphragm diaphragm. Acoustics mean nothing if you don't. Use. Your diaphragm.

Rule#3. Never leave a toy sitting within reaching distance of your chosen tantrum location. One can choose the following methods, but be sure to assess the situation as it arises and choose the one most likely to launch the toy into orbit. You may kick, throw, head butt, scoot, fling, or punch any toy within reach. You may also opt for the combination of the above best suited to scuttle your toy through the space time continuum. Keep in mind you get extra points if the toy launches again from a nearby wall or piece of furniture, and infinity points if you manage to break 'unbreakable' plastic. Silly grownups.

Rule#4. Location location location. Never throw a tantrum in your bedroom, your parent might just opt to walk out and close the door. Choose Wal-Mart over McDonald's- the acoustics are better and there's less competition. Never choose a room without an adult. If it looks like the adult is going to leave the room, pick the tantrum up and move it to the new location. You MUST appear cooperative and willing to move the tantrum to wherever the adult will be able to observe it, otherwise you are wasting your tantrum talents.

Rule#5. Do whatever it takes to ensure your tantrum will not be ignorable. I guarantee you that if your adult is smart they will attempt to employ the highly controversial 'ignore it and it will go away' technique at some point in the tantrum game. You MUST SQUASH THAT TECHNIQUE IMMEDIATELY. Borrow, beg, kick, stomp, throw, gnaw, scream. If you want to be a winner, you must do what it takes.

Rule #6. Longevity is the key to the game. If 15 minute tantrums don't cut the peanut butter, try 30. Be strong, be loud, be persistent.

Rule#7. And finally, if all else fails, move your tantrum location to the tops of your adult's feet. I only recommend the employment of this technique as a last ditch effort. Because, if you pull out this last stop, there's a chance of having a nap forced upon you. Use this method with caution. Trust me.

Has Anyone Seen Smoochie's Mom?

Almost everyone knows that when a person has more than one child, the personalities of said children will differ greatly. I knew this even before I had children because I had a sister who is as different from myself as night and day. Yin and Yang. She's outspoken while I bottle it all in. She's outgoing & talkative while I'm quite introverted. She had 3 girls and I had 2 boys (because she hogged all the girls).

By the time Critter blessed our family, I was fully aware that he would be a person with a personality completely separate from his big brother. Critter tries daily to shatter our eardrums, I think I've had to tell Smooch to use his inside voice three times in his life. Smooch will be 8 in a couple of months and still won't climb on our kitchen counters and I'm trying to figure out just which Ninja moves Critter uses exactly to get at the Marshmallows in our pantry. And after I took them away how he managed to retrieve them from the middle of the kitchen table.

Now for the most part I'm a fairly intelligent adult woman. I knew these boys would be different. Although I can say I didn't exactly plan on HOW different they would be, I did expect it. What I didn't expect, however, is how different their Mothers would be.

Smoochie's mom was totally on the ball. He was clean, well (and promptly) fed, and at all times "dressed and ready to face the day". I quoted that because that is the phrase I used every morning when we were getting ready. A pajama day for that boy was always either a super treat meaning we had nowhere to go, or it meant the boy was super sick and too pitiful to care about getting dressed. Smoochie's mom had it all, an eagle eye, quick humor, and reflexes as quick as a rabbit. Smoochie's mom rocked. It's no wonder he never colored on a wall or cut his own hair.

Meanwhile, in the land of Neurotic 6 years later, I look around and spy Critter's mom. She's frazzled and mostly askew and partly deaf and completely off her rocker. I'm thinking Critter may be getting the shaft. Critter thinks that if his mom is putting clothes on him it means he is going "bye bye" and starts waving. And he may be right.

Critter was most recently spied in a living room (also occupied by Dad AND Big Brother) drawing on a coffee table with a pencil. This implies he has developed the ability to become invisible and his mom's eagle eye clearly needs lasik.

Critter's mom is slow and has lost her quick reflexes. She's always limping due to the recurring foot cramp that comes from stepping on poky hard plastic children's toys. She may be developing a personality disorder because she can often be spotted hunched over limping and muttering to herself.

Critter's mom has lost her sense of time and completely thrown her ability to plan for the immediate future out the window. She should really expect that every day at 5:30 Critter will be hungry and yet it still comes as a daily surprise to her. Her personal motto has recently become, "Oh crap, dinner."

I have searched our home thoroughly for any trace of Smoochie's mom, but she can't be reached for comment. (Between you and me I'm pretty sure she's locked up in a tower somewhere and won't be coming back)

And Critter's mom? Is too busy daydreaming of a bubble bath in a soaking tub with candle light ambiance and a glass of wine to bother.

Wordless Wednesday & Personality

I think it's really cool how personalities somehow shine through even in photos.

Wordless Wednesday & Photo Opportunities

Photo Op at the local petting zoo...

There's room in every day for a little silly
AND...

It's Snot Funny

Critter’s latest teething endeavor is quite unpleasant. He is (of course) miserable, but who wouldn’t be when your body is trying to push a piece of bone through layer after layer of your soft tissue?

Teething comes with a variety of symptoms, and, of course, no two children are exactly alike in their teething experience. Loss of sleep, general grumpiness, explosive messes in diapers, and hair trigger crankiness attacks are just a few. And although Critter is indeed miserable, and has told me on more than one occasion with his red rimmed eyes and little Oooooooo’s and Owowowow’s for periods up to 20 minutes straight, it is none of the above listed symptoms I wish to dedicate this blog entry to. The symptom I wish to discuss is so bad, so awful, so fowl that it has sent me running for the tension tamer tea at 10:30 on a Monday morning.

Let’s talk snot. Critter’s nose has turned its self into Mt. Vesuvius. Usually when a child has a runny nose, you grab a tissue and wipe. But with Critter’s nose, that seems to be like taking a single two ply square of toilet paper and attempting to mop up an entire gallon of spilled milk. Between the snot and the gallons of drool, I have had to pull out the big guns- the softest most absorbent towel I can find. Let me explain why.

His eruptions begin with a steady bead of snot, flowing from one nostril or the other. And since the eruptions occur frequently, there seems to be no preference to either side. The boy’s nostrils are an equal opportunity eruptor. Before you can blink, things begin to bubble over, and there’s a river of clear ooze coming from the nose. The drool that accompanies the eruption begins to pool up in the volcano’s crater (Critter’s mouth) and escape with record setting speed over the outer ledge with a gushing waterfall of slightly thinner viscosity.

I swear it’s like being drawn into a natural disaster from which you clearly see coming but can not escape. There begins a low gurgle, an undulation of mucus, a deep breath, then, “Aaaaaaaaa-Choo!”

And I become Pompeii.

Yuck.

Wordless Wednesday

Our Good Morning Ritual

Before I had Critter, I worried the boys would not be close because of the age difference between them. I worried needlessly because the boys both adore each other.

At least until Critter is walking and able to steal toys and sneak into sombody's bedroom and chant things like k-i-s-s-i-n-g and report every move his big brother is making to Mom & Dad. Then things might change a bit.

But in the meantime, Critter likes to wake his brother up for school. It always includes a snuggle, which is loved by both parties involved.

And it ALWAYS includes three smiles. You can't see the third one here, that one's in my heart.

Wordless Wednesday

That should sum it up nicely.

Critter Gone Ferrell

I am surprised by the energy left in me this mid-morning as I lay him down and quickly perform a silent ninja roll back to my recliner and laptop, stopping only to turn the TV on for white noise in order to avoid waking him up with the clickity clack of my rushed blog entry. If my writing is spiraling out of control, I apologize. I am tired to the point of dizzy.

I believe Critter may be teething. Now please understand that I love Critter with everything that I am, and I am as sucked in by his little droopy blue eyes as the next person is, but he has been blessed with a giant sized Irish temper inside his little peanut body. I am sure that as he grows he will eventually grow into that Irish temperament, and things will eventually even themselves out. For now, though, that little temper (coupled with the inability to use words to communicate with his grossly inadequate mother) is a wicked wicked little kick start to the teething crankies.

His nose is stuffy/running, so he doesn’t want to be horizontal because he can’t breathe. His pacifier offers no comfort (although he won’t give up trying) because he can’t breathe through the sucking motion, and every three sucks ends up in a suction release and a gasp for air. He is a grouchy little baby bear who does not want to snuggle with his mamma at 11pm, 1am, 2am, 3am, or any other time when the rest of the sane world is sleeping. He is mad at me, his nose, his hurting little mouth, and me for not fixing it.

I 've tried. I’ve dosed him with infant Tylenol and baby Orajel, but it doesn’t help with the crankies. So last night I sucked it all up and endured alone (Bonehead had long since made a mad dash for the upstairs bedroom due to his daily 4am wakeup requirement). There were many tears and intense frustration, and I wish I could say they were all from him. There were some snuggles, some diaper changes, some feedings.

There was a police cruiser outside the front of my house at 2:30a.m. At the point I happened to glance out the window and saw it, I realized –oh, oops. My windows were open. Any neighbors that might have had their windows open were also privy to Critter’s inconsolable state.

The police officer didn’t knock on my door at all, and I’m not sure how long he was there before he pulled away. I wonder how long he was there before realizing that it was simply a mom so tired she didn’t realize her windows were open. I don’t really mind if a neighbor called, after thinking about it, because if I were the neighbor, I would have been totally worried someone might have been beating a baby. Critter can scream. He’s been blessed with the ability to shatter glass.

I did come to a couple of realizations at some point during my extremely rough night and dizzy tired morning. 1. I do not really blame Bonehead for running for the hills, because given half a chance, I would have run screaming too.(Although I have to confess that at 3am, I was so insanely jealous there were air horns and uncooked eggs in my thoughts) and 2. If there is a repeat of Critter’s Ferrell state tonight, I will be sure to close my windows in order to avoid troubling the neighbors or having a police officer knock on my door at 2am-ish.

However, I will tuck this night deep into my memory, and someday down the line, I will tell Critter the story of the night when he was teething and he screamed so loud and long he brought the police to investigate.

Photo Shoot

I caught Critter in a good mood this afternoon, and since my mom was just hinting that I hadn't included any Critter pics in a while, I made a mad ninja dash for the camera before the moment slipped away. For once, Critter was more than happy to be the subject of his very own photo shoot. He hammed it up nicely.





At first he was a little self conscious in front of the lense...





But after a while he began to relax and look more natural. (As natural as a deer in the headlights can look, anyway)





Hey, Critter, what does trouble look like?





No, no, that's what a Cabbage Patch Kid looks like.





Now THATS what trouble looks like.

Photo Story Friday

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Critter has recently discovered his feet. They're the greatest toy ever made. It's three toys in one- in the air, in the hand, in the mouth. I've tried, and I honestly can't pay for better baby entertainment. Although, I'm not really sure who's more entertained- Critter, or me.

A Field Guide to Parenting

HOW TO TELL IT IS TIME TO BUILD THE CRIB: 10 INDICATORS TO LOOK FOR

1. If you walk into your baby’s room, and all you see sticking out of the bassinet are kneecaps and elbows, it might be time to put the crib together.

2. When your bassinet wobbles like it’s standing on chopsticks, it might be time to build that crib.

3. If your little guy flushes the toilet, brushes his teeth, walks to his room and pushes his bassinet to you so you can tuck him in conveniently, it just might be time to pull out the crib.

4. If putting your child to bed resembles stuffing a marshmallow into a pen cap, it might be time to put the crib together.

5. If your child wakes you up at 2am yelling in a baritone, “Mom, you forgot to shut the light off again”, it might be time for the crib.

6. If your child pushes a pilsner glass toward you and asks for another “bottle” it’s probably time for the crib.

7. If your baby’s booties are size 10 ½ men’s, it might be time for the crib.

8. If your child asks if he can take his Nintendo DS to bed with him, it could be time for the crib.

9. If your bassinet resembles a hammock, it is safe to say its time to switch to a crib.

10. When baby’s bed time routine includes a shave, it’s definitely time for the crib.

Guess what we’ll be doing this weekend?

...

UPDATE: We live in a very small home and we are bursting at the seams. So even though my sweet husband wanted to put the crib together BEFORE Critter arrived, I told him no. We still don't have room for a crib, but upon seeing Critter's hand outside the bassinet this morning, I realized it was time to make room for the crib. Maybe. Probably.

The Constant Serenade

There once was a mommy
Who didn’t know what to do.
She had to hold her little guy
Or he’d scream ‘till he was blue.
Whenever she’d shower or eat
He’d sing a serenade
About little boys in overalls
On a screaming tirade.

They had three whole days together,
Just mommy and her son.
Her hopes were soon a pipe dream
Of getting anything done.
She attempted to start the laundry,
And she tried to do the dishes
But quickly learned that housework is
Against her cutie-pie’s wishes.

So she told herself
His little won’t stay,
And they went out for a walk
And snuggled together the rest of their day.

And then their last day alone dawned
All clear and sun shiny
So mommy planned for another walk
To help shrink her hinny
And she’ll snuggle in again
And smile, chuckle and laugh,
For when daddy’s home today,
SHE’S TAKING A BUBBLE BATH.

Critter's World

I apologize for the shortness of my past few posts, but typing one handed takes a lot out of a girl. Right now I feel like an undercover agent fully immersed in Critter’s world.

In Critter’s world:

Feeding = Full body contact sport

Binky = Projectile

2 a.m. = 10:30 a.m.

Mommy’s fingers = The best toy EVER

Big brother = Entertainment center

Sleep = Unnecessary waste of time

Mommy = Really cozy bean bag/ Beef jerky

Mommy's laptop keyboard = Kick-toy target

4:30 a.m. = Snuggling into Daddy’s super comfy abandoned spot in bed next to Mom.

Hey. Mommy has to sleep sometime.

Smile = Gold

Laughter = Titanium

Snoring = A happy dance from Mommy.

The Reason I'm So Good at Typing One Handed

As I’m up for the second time tonight, I am reminded of a phrase of mine that my husband often repeats in situations like this. “Cute baby fingers and cute baby toes.”

"Concert" x's Infinity / Weight Loss Wednesday

My hoodlum boys in the park

I have been taking Smooch and Critter to the park across town a couple/few days a week for something new to do. Last week Smooch, who is learning to read, noticed the sign out in front of the park announcing the annual summer concerts in the park on Tuesday nights. Our town’s symphony band plays in an outdoor pavilion on Tuesday nights at this particular park. I was impressed. Smooch read the entire sign by himself.

And then I made a colossal mistake.

I mentioned that MAYBE if it wasn’t raining, we could MAYBE go the following Tuesday, which was yesterday. I thought nothing of it. I’ve got to expose the kid to a little culture somehow, what’s better than free culture, and it was nice to see him get excited about it. Each day from that point brought forth a question from Smooch about what day of the week it was, because he was anxiously waiting for Tuesday to arrive.

I have mentioned before that Smoochie can talk at the speed of light. And with the speed of sound taken into consideration, that means even when his lips stop moving for a moment or two, I’m still hearing him.

The dawn of Tuesday morning brought forth the word “concert”. Every sentence that erupted from Smoochie’s mouth began with, ended with, or contained in some way or another, the word “concert”. I had more than one speed of light moment yesterday. I’m looking at the boy’s big blue eyes, his lips have stopped moving, and I’m still hearing the word. I may actually physically shudder every time I hear that word ever again.

Fortunately, once we arrived at the park with our picnic dinner last night, the word was quickly forgotten. The music was nice, the weather perfect, and I have to confess I enjoyed a little bit of quality time just hanging out with my boys.

We may even do it again. This time, though, I’ll try to keep my intentions secret until it’s time to go.


WEDNESDAY WEIGH IN TIME:

I weighed in this morning, and here is my weight loss progress as per my post last Wednesday:

Weight: -5 lbs

Exercise: Goal accomplished. I added 4 days of exercise to my week last week. This week, I plan to add 6.

Food journal: Fail. I found it a little difficult to track down a notebook with a squirmy 4 month old in my arms most of the day. I’m trying again.

Starbucks: Uh………Um…….No. I failed miserably. I did, however, switch to their light version, which is considerably fewer calories. This one’s going to kill me to accomplish, but I’m trying again.

I do have a recipe I’ll be posting in the next couple of days.

Idiosyncrasies

I took these pictures after our trip to the park on Wednesday. It was the 1st time Critter played himself peacefully to sleep in his Exersaucer, and I couldn’t resist the urge to grab the camera and take a couple of shots. I wanted to capture the rare moment when the path to sleep didn’t follow his normal strictly enforced regimen.

Normally, Critter is a high maintenance sleeper. What does that mean, exactly?

He has to be held completely horizontally. According to Critter, his angle can not exceed 15 degrees, and said holder must be completely still with elbow bent so he can bury his face (which is a little scary by the way) in the bent crook of the inner elbow. If you are Critter’s holder, beware. He will not just nuzzle into your crook, he will face-mash into it complete with wind up.

Another essential ingredient for sleep must be the holder’s cupped hand resting on the exposed side of his face. Critter will let you know if you are doing it right. If you are doing it wrong, he will make a loud shrieking noise that is almost impossible to stop once it starts. This is not to be confused with his “I’m hungry” shriek which is usually, “Cough cough, feed me, yell, cough cough.” This particular shriek is quite uncomfortable and often makes my eardrum vibrate like a kazoo inside my ear. This shriek is so uncomfortable I would give the boy a cheesecake if I knew it would stop it short. If you are cupping his face correctly, he will close his eyes, lift his eyebrows, give two sucks on the binky, and hug your wrist like a stuffed hippo. It’s the angelic desired result. Heaven help you if you mess it up.

The last technique in the sleep countdown is the proper lay-me-down sequence. On the path to bed his head must never be lower than the remainder of the body, nor must it (again) exceed the maximum higher angle of 15 degrees above the remainder of the body. Should you mess this part up, the end result will be the immediate appearance of eyeballs and the sleep sequence will be forfeit and have to be started again from the beginning.

Bug and Critter

This past weekend we attended my cousin’s wedding. I took many pictures over the course of the day, but I wanted to share my favorite photo of the entire batch. This picture is of my cousin’s oldest son with my youngest son. Apparently the nickname gene runs in the family, because he answers to Bug. Bug and Critter. How appropriate.

Another deer in the headlights photo for the archives.

Baby Teeth

We went to my cousin’s wedding over the weekend. The wedding was sweet, the reception hall beautifully decorated, the food wonderful. I can safely say a good time was had by all. Even Critter was able to put aside the grouchies that had been plaguing him for the past few days and enjoy all of the dancing under the disco ball. For someone who isn’t yet old enough to walk, he sure did dance the night away. He even perfected the art of chair dancing.

Prior to the wedding was an entirely different story, however. Critter had been screaming inconsolably for more than an hour and I was beginning to panic. We had to leave for the wedding in less than 2 hours, we were out of town and I had no emergency babysitter reserved, and I could not submit my cousin and all of her wedding patrons to the eardrum rupturing screams that my little Critter is quickly making a name for himself for.

Amongst one of his screams and one of the fifty gazillion positions I tried holding him in order to console him, I noticed something WRONG in his mouth. So I leaned in for a closer look. I noticed a little white bump protruding from his gums.

I have to admit, it has been 6 years since I’ve had a baby to take care of, and some things escape me until they occur again with Critter. You have to make sure they stay covered or you get sprayed in the face when you’re changing diapers. Somehow I managed to forget about that. I forgot about the fact that holding a squirming baby can be like trying to hang onto a wet noodle with a Spork.

I also forgot about the joys of teething. I was completely unprepared for this new development in my day, and had to go to the local drug store for baby pain reliever and freezer chew toys. At least I was fortunate enough to discover the root of the problem an hour before the wedding- giving us enough time to address the situation and muffle the screams and pain a little.

The following morning I discovered another nub. I’m full of questions at this point though. The first tooth I discovered was a back tooth, not an upper front tooth. The next one is a bottom front. I’ve always thought the top two teeth were supposed to come in first. Now I’m wondering if I need to call our dentist in a panic because he’s getting a back tooth first.

Regardless, I am a proud parent of the biggest, most miserable grumble bunny known to man.