I Love. . .

I love stand up straight baby hair. It doesn’t lay down flat, ever (except for when it is really wet).


I love jammies in the afternoon – the other day, after her nap, Miss insisted on putting her jammies back on over her clothes. She kept them on until bedtime. Here she’s saying “I yay down” and “I go seep.” Yep. Love.

I love watching my girls love their Daddy. And vice versa.


I love this.
And even better, this.
Unfortunately Lass would not take a full bottle from her Daddy. She cried and cried at first, then I got her to start taking the bottle and passed her back to her Daddy, for whom she drank an ounce or two. Then she started crying again and wouldn’t take anymore until I gave it to her again. She drank about 4 ounces total before she refused it entirely, and I really am hoping she’ll get better at taking a bottle for someone other than me (kind of defeats the purpose if she doesn’t), but it’s a start. And I still love how adorable she looks chillin’ with a bottle.
I love sisterly love.


I love book clubs and playdates and conversations with other adults. Between Thursday and today I went to two book clubs (yes I did manage to finish and enjoy both books!), had a playdate at my house, and went to a MOPS meeting. It is really rejuvenating to have adult conversation, and even more so when I can do it without having to redirect a toddler or nurse a 5-month-old. I love my full-time mom job, but I also love being able to take a few hours “off” once in a while. Yes, I yuv it.

Time to Get Crafty

Now that Christmas is rapidly approaching and Miss is getting to the age of being able to do crafts, I have been in a majorly crafty kind of mood. Two days ago I went nuts in the craft section of Target, buying pipe cleaners and construction paper and sparkly pom-poms and regular pom-poms and glue and googly eyes and all sorts of other stuff. Yesterday was a dreary day, perfect for pulling out these newly acquired treasures and getting into some crafting. I decided that we would make gift bags for Christmas gifts. I have tons of paper bags that I have saved over the past year (I used other ones last year, but not decorated nicely), so I pulled them out and informed Miss that we would be making the bags pretty.

She was quite intrigued buy this idea. She was even more interested when I got out the craft stuff I planned for us to use. I told her we would be making a Christmas tree on the bag and she was so excited.

I was quite excited too. I has sparkly pipe cleaners to glue on for garland and sparkly pom-poms for ornaments. Miss had a “ball” picking out the ornaments she wanted to use. I put glue on them and she stuck them on. The only problem was that they wouldn’t stick. I couldn’t get the glue to hold the pipe cleaners or the pom-poms in place. I tried and tried, but to no avail. I haven’t crafted in so long, and really who knows the last time I used pipe cleaners and pom-poms for anything (Monday school crafting in LP??), so I had no idea they wouldn’t stick. Maybe they would have if I’d been able to hold them in place until they started to dry, and then allow them to sit motionless while the glue dried completely. As if that was going to happen with a toddler eager to stick on the next fluffy and sparkly ornament.
So, we switched to plan B. I cut paper to make garland and ornaments. Miss stuck them on. And then, to her delight, I got out the most important component of any holiday crafting project. What, you ask?? Why, glitter of course!! Miss went to town sprinkling it all over the tree, where it stuck in the spots I had squirted glue on the garland and ornaments.
Naturally, it stuck to more than just the tree.

Happily, we finished the project and got it cleaned up. Though it didn’t turn out the way I thought it would, we had fun, and Miss was very proud of her finished Christmas tree bag, which is currently holding a gift for her Daddy, ready to give on Christmas.
Next up – More bags with Santas, Snowmen, and maybe a reindeer, though I’m not sure if that falls within my artistic ability, a paper garland, more cookies and who knows what else??

Turkey Cookies

Yesterday Miss and I made cookies. Turkey cookies made in the shape of her hand. I’m a competent cook, but I’m the first to admit, I’m not very good at baking. Not yet anyway. I never got into it until recently. The pie a month ago, and now cookies. I tried to get Miss into cooking with me, but because of the danger from knives and the stove, I decided baking would be easier for her to really help with. And she seems to really enjoy it. She was so excited yesterday to get her apron on and get to work in the kitchen. Plus she loves washing her hands, which is how we started, of course.

Then we traced her hand to make the pattern for cutting the cookies (and then had to wash her hands again. Duh.)
She got freaked out by the noise of the mixer at first.
She didn’t have to worry about it for too long though, because my $1 garage sale hand mixer, purchased at least 12 years ago (though rarely used), finally died on me. So we switched to an easier method, clean hands and then a wooden spoon. That was easier for Miss to help with anyway.


Unfortunately, Lass woke up right when I put the cookies in the oven, and trying to nurse her, while switching the cookies around halfway through, and then keeping an eye on them because they were probably going to be done before my timer went off didn’t really work out. It worked perfectly fine for her, because she got fed. But the cookies didn’t fare so well.

Nevertheless, they were still tasty and decoratable, so we waited for them to cool so we could complete the turkey transformation. Miss chilled with her sis while we waited.

Finally the cookies were cool and the decorating commenced. Miss was naturally just as interested in eating the frosting and sprinkles as putting them on the cookies, but we eventually got them done.


And of course I had to let her sample the finished product.

So, as I said, I’m not a baker. And I’m really not an artist, so the cookies are very ugly. But I am proud that they do sort of resemble turkeys. A little bit. I mean, as much as a hand resembles a turkey. And of course, the whole point of the exercise wasn’t really the cookies anyway. I had a wonderful time with my girl.
Today we had a very relaxing day. Miss and I caught the end of the Macy’s parade. We only saw the last 15 minutes or so, but it was enough to see Santa at the end. Can I tell you that I cried when my girl’s face got the most magical expression on it as she watched Santa waving and dancing and got to see the reindeer? It was a perfect day for reflecting on all that I’m thankful for.

21-Month “Miss”-cellany

21 months is fun. I *heart* 21 months. My elder girl is so stinking funny at 21 months. She is getting into all sorts of new things, some good, some bad. She likes to climb anything she can. She’ll climb onto the counter from her Learning Tower. She tries to climb the cabinets. She climbs me. She climbs her dad. It’s not uncommon for me to turn my back for a second and turn back to find her balancing on something she just climbed up on. It’s a minor miracle she hasn’t climbed out of her crib yet (knock on wood).
She likes to carry and pack things. She had a blast carrying all her importants in a backpack at the farm last week.

She is still our outdoor girl. The girl loves to be outside and explore. She picks things up or gathers them together. She’s not afraid to get dirty.
She can say just about anything at this point and in full sentences, if not fully grammatically correct sentences. She says the funniest things sometimes, and almost always in the correct context. If I came to get her to take a nap when she was playing with her Baba (my husband’s mom) at the farm last week she would say, “Bye-bye Mommy. See you next time!” Today she was talking on her pretend phone and she said something like, “Hi Grandma. All done talking. Bye-bye, see you next time” (I think “see you next time” comes from the way her favorite show “Yo Gabba Gabba” always ends).
The other day she was doing something that was driving me nuts and I snapped at her a little, “Stop it!” Well, of course today I heard her saying “stop it!” with a little frown on her face. Made me feel like a big heel. I am very careful what I say around her so she doesn’t start copying even less savory words or phrases (which I admit I have been known to say on occasion ๐Ÿ™‚ and wouldn’t you know the one time I did swear in front of her, I heard her mimicking “Dammit!” just a few seconds later. Fortunately I didn’t react and she only said it once.
She also has other funny little things she does and says like “I go cazy!!” when she’s dancing or “I yuuuv it!!” when she really likes something. She can sing her ABCs, count to 14 and knows all her colors and most of her shapes. She knows almost all of her letters by sight and can identify the sound each letter makes. It seems all of this stuff happened overnight too. One day she was my baby, and the next she was this funny little girl with some serious personality.
She has a little bit of sass in her too. In general she’s a very good girl and usually listens when I tell her to do something. Admittedly it sometimes takes me two or three repeats of an instruction, occasionally with a bit of hands on encouragement, before she listens, but most of the time she does what I ask fairly readily. Recently however she has started letting me know when she doesn’t like it by letting out a shrill scream while complying with my requests. It’s like she’s saying, “I’ll do it, but I’m not gonna like it!!” We have had a few tantrums and their frequency has increased a bit, but so far these are usually short lived. I must admit there are moments when I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing in terms of disciplining my toddler, but we seem to be doing okay so far. And I am learning all the time and figuring it out as I go, so I’m okay with that.
Miss loves to sit on the counter while I’m getting ready and play with my makeup or hair brush. I love watching her imitate me with my makeup brushes. She also loves to have her hair done. If I ask her if she’d like to get pigtails she gets very excited, and she loves to pick out the barrette she wears and her socks. One day we were in her closet as I was selecting what she would wear that day and I held up a shirt and asked her if she liked it. Her eyes got big and she said, “oooh, booful! (beautiful)” Of course that’s the shirt she wore that day. I can’t get enough of the pigtails. . .
She loves to push her baby dolls around in their stroller, but even more than that of course she loves for me to push her baby dolls around. “Mommy push?” she says. So I do. She also loves to chase and be chased, so we do this often with the stroller as well. The vacuum works too.
Miss loves to play with her sister and hold her. She asked to hold her the other day so I had her sit and placed Lass sitting up between her legs. Miss grinned ear to ear and held her and hugged and kissed her for a minute. Then she kind of pushed Lass away from herself and said, “Play toys?” So I thought she was done with her sister and wanted to go play with her toys. Well she walked over to Lass’s playmat and picked up some of Lass’s toys, looking back at me expectantly so I would put Lass down and Miss could play with her. She loves showing her sister things.
She is also starting to get interested in manipulating things and learning how things work. She pays very close attention when I show her how to get toys on and off the play mat hooks.
She is also getting into dressing herself. And undressing herself. She loves snaps and zippers and is very eager to do up the zipper of her jammies every night. Fortunately she hasn’t quite figured out how to undo the zipper. We had to abandon the few pairs of jammies she has with snaps, because I went in to check on her one night before I went to bed to find her jammies in a heap in her crib and her lying in bed with nothing but a onesie on. After she got up the next morning and I put her jammies back on her, I went to the laundry room for a minute and came back to find this.
Her near nakedness apparently inspired the urge to dance and go “cazy.”


And of course the jammies were a great tool for playing a sort of hide-and-seek/wander-around-without-looking game.
She is noticing the camera more and will look at it and say “picture!”
Sometimes now I can get her to stand still for a second and maybe actually pose for the camera. Here she even said, “cheese” for her Daddy.
Bottom line? I love this age. I have loved every stage, every age so far. But I. Love. This. Age. And man I love that girl.
Speaking of love, here’s a little sneak peak at a very-soon-to-be-three-month-old. I could just eat her up.

Mother of the Year, Or Not

When I was a kid my mom used to joke about being “Mother of the Year.” Or rather, the things she did that disqualified her from that lofty status. It was all just for fun. If she didn’t cook dinner or do something “motherly” she would say, “Well, I guess I just lost my bid for Mother of the Year.” And we’d laugh. Don’t get me wrong here. My mom was great. She did all sorts of motherly things and more. But of course no one is perfect, and often she could joke about it when she wasn’t.
Some days feel like “Mother of the Year” days. You know those days when everything clicks? The TV stays off. We take fun trips, go for walks, do crafty things, and have lots of mother-daughter-bonding time. The days when I can still be calm the tenth time I say something like “No Honey, we don’t pull the dog’s tail/put a book on your sister’s face/climb on the counter/insert toddler behavior. Come on over here and let’s read this stimulating and oh-so-educational book instead.” One of those the-house-is-picked-up-delicious-dinner-is-made-kiss-the-hubby-at-the-door-domestic-bliss kind of days. Okay, not quite so Leave It To Beaver, but you know what I mean. If you’re a mom, you have those days when it just flows. It works. You get in your groove.
Yesterday was one of those days. It started with Miss and I making an apple pie in the morning. This was a first for both of us. Prior to yesterday my experience with making pie consisted of putting a pre-made (pre-baked even) pumpkin pie in the oven to warm it up a little bit on Thanksgiving. So yesterday I took the apples we got from the farm last Friday, got Miss all set up in her Tower, and proceeded to make pie. I did not make the crust from scratch, but we did the rest. We started by donning our aprons. I don’t have a little one for Miss yet, so I took my waist-down only apron and adjusted it to fit her.

Miss’s apron and mine were both made by my aunt. She has an Etsy shop, which you can check out hereif you’re in the market for an apron.

Miss enjoyed “helping” me wash, peel, core and slice the apples. She pretended to “wash” the cores, and she ate half of one of the apples (that one didn’t go into the pie of course).
I pointed out to her that her apron had some pockets and she stocked them with apple peels.
After I zested the lemon and squeezed the juice onto the apples, Miss wanted to eat the lemon. She actually took quite a few tastes of it and didn’t even make a sour face. In fact, I had to keep her from taking a big old bite of the peel, which I think she would have chowed down on if I had let her.
She kept an eye on the progress of the pie as it was baking and we were very pleased with the finished project, both in terms of how it looked and how it tasted!


The rest of yesterday was kind of more of the same. We went to the grocery store, Miss played outside with her dad, we had a good dinner, Lass was super fussy in the evening and nothing was working to soothe her until I figured out what she needed and then she was happy as a clam, and so on. It was a, “Yeah, I got this” kind of day.
Today was not so much. It wasn’t a bad day. In fact, it was a just-fine day. I just wasn’t on my game. Once again I woke determined to get ready and get to story time at the library. Once again, we did not get ready on time. I planned to go to the library again anyway, but I was rushing to get out the door with enough time to get to the library and browse for books before having to get home for lunch. It was after 11 when I finally got in the car with both girls and started driving to the library. And then I realized I had forgotten my wrap for Lass. I could have pulled her out of the car in the infant car seat and carried her around the library in that. But at the thought of that, I said, “Ah, screw it.” And I headed for the Starbucks drive through. I got myself a decaf, venti, nonfat, no whip, 2 Splenda Mocha and drove. It was really quite nice. My girls tend to like the car and so they chill. And I chill. And it’s nice sometimes to just hit the drive through. So that’s how I rolled through the library too, with the drive-through book drop. So I guess I just lost my bid for Mother of the Year. Oh well. I’ll try again next year ๐Ÿ™‚

Juggling

All things considered, I have found that the second baby is way easier than the first baby. I know part of this is because Lass really is just an easy baby. She sleeps well, she eats well, she rarely cries. But Miss was a pretty easy baby too compared to the stories I had heard from some moms I know. So I know that part of the reason Lass is so easy is because of me. I’m different. I’m more confident. I kind of feel like I know what I’m doing this time around. Things don’t freak me out as much as they did the first time I did all this. I don’t keep an obsessive journal of every feeding, complete with how long Lass nurses on each side, when I pump (heck, I haven’t even pumped an ounce this time around yet!), and when she pees and poops. I know part of this is because Lass did not have issues with her weight gain, and though she lost a little bit of weight in the hospital, it wasn’t much, and she was well over her birth weight by her two-week appointment. Miss on the other hand had lost a considerable amount of weight in the hospital and we had to go for weekly weight checks until she surpassed her birth weight, which I think took three or four weeks for her to do. But also, I’m less nervous about breastfeeding in general this time. Last time I was scared to death that I wouldn’t have enough milk, or my “supply” would run out, or Miss wouldn’t learn to latch or would refuse to nurse or whatever. This time I wasn’t nervous. I knew that I had successfully nursed Miss for 14 months and could do it again. I knew my boobs could produce, so I didn’t worry. In general, I really just worry less this time around.
So like I said, baby #2 is much easier than baby #1. What I do sometimes worry about this time around is Miss. I worry that she will feel that I’m not paying enough attention to her or that somehow she’ll feel left out. I’ve found that the big trick to taking good care of two very small children and maintaining your sanity is juggling. Keeping the balls in the air. Coordination. Etcetera.
I’ve gotten pretty good at juggling. I’m able to do many more things at one time than I ever thought possible. Sometimes it’s just small things to juggle, like holding Lass to nurse with one arm while using the other hand to help Miss put on her Daddy’s coat, which she very much wanted to model for us.



Or bouncing a fussy Lass in my BabyEtte wrap outside so that Miss could blow off some steam in the yard.


And then there are the times when you can’t help but drop a ball. Or two. The other night was one of those times. Picture this. My hubby was at a meeting. It was dinner time for Miss. I was planning ahead. Realized that Lass would be hungry right about the time that I would usually give Miss her bath and put her to bed. I’m flexible. Loose. I decide Miss can stay up a bit later while I feed Lass. Then I’ll do the bath and bed routine with Miss. No biggie.
Well, just around the time I make this plan, as Miss is happily eating her dinner, she toots and says, “Biiig Poop!” (which kind of sounds like “Beee pup!” when she says it). And I reply, “No Honey, I think you just tooted. Say ‘Excuse me’ please.” Not 30 seconds later I hear what sounds like an actual “big poop,” and sure enough she says again “Beeee pup!” So I know I have to revise my plan. Because I can’t let Miss sit in a poopy diaper while I feed Lass. But it seems stupid to change Miss’s diaper only to put her in the tub 20-30 minutes later. So I roll with it and decide I can put Miss in the tub and let her play while I nurse Lass. Juggling, juggling.
Dinner is done. I take the girls upstairs. Miss hadn’t really pooped much at all, but I went ahead with the plan. Cleaned her up, put her in the tub, and positioned myself on the stool by the side of the tub where I proceed to nurse Lass. This is not comfortable, but I’m keeping the balls in the air, and all is well. Until it’s not. I hear the toot. See the bubbles. Miss says again, “Beee pup!” And I’m thinking, “Please, please, please let this only be a toot.” But then Miss gets her “I’m pooping” look and sure enough, she poops in the tub.
Balls dropping. I have a moment of panic. Then Miss sees the poop and proceeds to completely. freak. out. She scuttles away from the poop, stands up and starts screaming at the top of her lungs, reaching for me and trying to climb out of the tub. So I have Lass latched onto my boob, and Miss clutched onto my arm screaming, and poop in the tub, and I do the only thing a Mom can do in this situation. I start cracking up laughing. Because really, what else is there to do in that moment? But the laughter only lasted for a second, since I did have a terrified toddler trying to claw her way up my arm and out of the tub. So I quickly gathered my senses, spoke soothingly to Miss while unlatching Lass (who fortunately had eaten enough to be temporarily content) and putting her in her bouncy seat right by the bathroom door (I had already placed it there in preparation for putting her in it when she got done eating), got all the poop out of the tub and cleaned up, and proceeded to finish Miss’s bath with fresh water in a clean tub. ย Whew.
I think I’m getting pretty good at juggling a newborn and a toddler. I can handle two under two. And I’ve learned that even when I inevitably “drop the ball” once in a while, it’s not too much of a big deal as long as I can just pick it back up and get back in the swing of it. And after the Poop-In-The-Tub Incident, as this will ever be remembered, I think I can handle just about anything.