A Monkey A Workin' For a Livin'

Maternity leave has come to an end with the Heels' victory last night. I'm back at work as of 6 this morning working in shifts to go home and feed the Peanut since he still won't take a bottle. The kids are with their grandma today but Andrew is staying home with them tomorrow so he'll be doing another guest post so stay tuned. GO HEELS!

Quality Time

Guilt! It is everywhere for me these days. I feel this enormous responsibility when it comes to the kids about everything. One thing weighing on me lately is the amount of one on one time I get to spend with each of them. The Peanut is only 3 months old so his attention span isn't that great. I try to get in several sessions of about ten minutes (that's as long as he really wants to spend with me at a time, I don't blame him) each day just making faces, talking, tummy time, sitting up all that kinda good stuff. And of course there are dozens of other times that I am feeding him or changing him or just hauling him from one place to the other that he is getting interaction also. He's in the playmat/swing/mobile stage where he likes to just sit and watch things and he also likes to practice his hand/arm coordination by batting at toys. The Weebles on the other hand is into everything. The entire day is pretty much spent in a conversation with her but I still feel like we're missing concrete time to just play together. I try to give her my undivided attention while her brother is napping but unfortunately he's not a big napper. I'll get 3 sometimes 4 periods of time during the day where he'll sleep for 30 minutes or less. We play blocks, stickers, her current favorite is cars or dance around to music. The girl has some moves. She also loves loves loves books so she gets probably a half hour or so of reading and snuggling in before naptime and then again after her bath at night. Writing it all out makes me feel a little better because it is hard during the course of the day for the times I am not focusing on them to jump out at me. Time spent Shredding or cleaning the house and of course time spent reading and writing on various blogs. How much time is enough?

Sunny afternoon

Didn't you get the memo that summer was already here? No? Well we like to celebrate any 70+ degree day with some summertime fun after being cooped up in the house all winter. Andrew took the Weebles outside for some playtime in the sprinklers. The poor Peanut was stuck inside with me while I got the Daily Shred out of the way. Bleh. Have I mentioned how much I love weekends? It seems just wrong that parents have to spend the majority of their waking time (well, maybe I should rephrase that to daytime waking time) away from their kids. Both kids are so much more animated and happy when we are both here with them. I am lucky to get to stay home with them during the week but it makes me sad to think about how much more fun they would have if we were both here all the time. Or, maybe that's what make the weekends seem so fun, that they are different and special?














Enjoying a snack post sprinkler-run

Feeling judgemental

I feel really guilty for this but I have noticed recently that I get upset when I see a mom using formula. Yes, of course there are medical issues that can interfere with breastfeeding but they are rare. Breastfeeding is hard damn work and I'm the first to admit it but it is such a personal bond to share with a child not to mention the very best nutrition they can have. I don't understand people that have children and then don't expect it to be a really huge sacrifice. I cried every feeding (and that's like 12 a day minimum at first folks) for the first couple months of my daughter's life. We really struggled to get it right. But we finally did and the payoffs are enormous. Not only do I save a hell of a lot of money not having to buy formula but I also don't have to make the goopy stuff nor do I have to wash dozens of little bottle parts every day. Plus did I mention it's the best thing for the kid! The people that actually upset me the most are the ones that don't even try. And the excuses they give! Oh.my.God. From "it's icky" to "I don't want my boobs to get messed up" I have read all manner of idiotic reasons. The people that claim they have to work and "dont' have time to pump" really get me too. I understand that not everyone is lucky enough to stay home with their children but they still do need to be some sort of priority in your life. You can't find a few minutes a day to pump while at work? How much time to you spend checking your email I wonder? And of course I try so hard to toe the "hey we're all moms in this together let's not put each other down" line and so I feel really awful for feeling judgemental about these moms but I just can't help it. I find myself going down a hormone fueled path looking into those little tiny faces. What else will their parents decide it too much trouble to do for them? Okay, rant over. Back to being just plain mental.

Daddy Guest Post

Mary asked me told me last week that I would be doing a guest post for the blog. Ever since, I have been wondering what the heck to write about. Then, the other night, while giving the Weeble her bath,it hit me. The Weeble was completely surrounded by wall-to-wall plastic toys floating around her (while waiting for her bath to cool down enough to get in, she spent a few minutes taking every toy she could find and then tossed each into the tub). For a moment, my thoughts drifted to Star Wars, since the Weeble in her bath resembled Skywalker & company stuck in the Death Star’s trash compactor.

I looked around. Outside of the bathtub were the rest of the toys that didn’t make it in. I wondered, does she actually enjoy all of this mess? She giggled as she collected all of the dolphins from her Water Symphony Bath Toy, trying to hold as many in her hands at one time as possible. Clearly, the answer was yes. At that moment, I had an epiphany regarding the laws of nature as they relate to toys owned by toddlers. I thought back to a conversation I had with my wife over the phone earlier that day:

“What’s the Weeble doing?”

“She’s in the living room yelling ‘NO NO NO’ while she’s grabbing all the books off of the shelf and tossing them onto the floor.”

Then I thought back to another time, when I was cleaning up the living room while the Weeble was playing with her stacking blocks. One by one I picked up the various toys and put them in the basket, as she watched me out of the corner of her eye. As soon as I put the basket on the shelf, she toddled over with a smile, and dumped its contents onto the ground. After glancing, for a moment, at the disorderly pile of little people, finger puppets and forgotten happy meal toys freshly laying in a pile on the floor, she returned to other pursuits.

So my conclusion is that the Weeble doesn’t dump the toys out because she’s looking for something in particular. She’s not even necessarily looking for something to play with. At times, she’s actually making life harder on herself (it would have been a lot easier to find all of the dolphins in the bathtub without the unrelated foam bath letters, cups and squirt toys in the way). No, none of that matters to her. Something else is going on here, and I think I’ve figured it out.

Like Hydrogen, Oxygen, or any other gas, toys owned by toddlers are governed by the following characteristic: they will diffuse readily, in order to spread themselves apart within any container. Our attempts to organize and isolate the toys to a limited area are a violation of this natural law. The Weeble is simply setting things right.

The Peanut

I was sicker than sick from what I thought must be food poisoning. The Weebles was about 8 1/2 months old and still very much dependent on breastfeeding. I was so ill that I wasn't able to feed her as well as usual and she was cranky as a result. On a whim I took a pregnancy test figuring I had one lying around and "wouldn't it be funny...". I believe my exact words were "is that a fucking line?" I then called Andrew at work and told him he needed to get home cause I'm pretty sure "that's a fucking line". We wanted our children to be close in age, maybe 2 or so years apart... this was much closer than we had discussed. Not to mention a total shock. Everyone knows just how well I do with surprises... I am a planner. And I totally hate being pregnant so those factors together had me sobbing "but I don't want to go through all this again so soon" for at least the next two months. Good thing about having a baby and being pregnant is that you don't have a whole lot of time for panic attacks. Not helping matters was the fact that my mother had made it totally clear she wanted us to only have one child. I knew that I'd be hearing it for the next 7 months. We waited to tell everyone but ended up spreading the news sooner than planned because Andrew's grandfather was very ill. He, more so than anyone else, was going to be excited I knew. He had a big family himself and he absolutely loved his family. I am so glad we told him when we did. It was the last good visit he had with us. Predictably my parents started in on the whole "it's unfair to your daughter" and other similar statements. What did they want me to do? Give him away? Once again I didn't think I was really in labor for the first two hours or so. By the time I figured this was it, it really was it and we nearly didn't make it to the hospital in time. The Peanut was born within about half hour of driving up to the front door. He was a funny looking little fella, he had a huge bump on his head from the delivery. This delivery went just as I would have wished, fast with no interventions just as his sister's delivery had gone. I stayed two nights in the hospital with him because of the time he was born and I didn't want to really push leaving 12 hours or so from the birth. This caused me to be away from the Weebles for the first time overnight ever. In my head I kept thinking that this was coming between me and her.. that this was going to hurt her somehow. I held my new baby and knew I was going to have a really hard time. I cried all the time the first few weeks and so did he. The PPD was awful and I don't really know how I made it other than the fact that there just weren't any other options. You go through the motions. I didn't think I'd ever love my new baby like I did my daughter. I didn't get to spend time with Weebles because I was nursing 24/7. Day by day things changed and now I have the smiliest, happiest, sweetest little son on earth. His sister thinks he is the funniest thing she's ever seen and loves to bring him toys and socks. The girl loves socks. And his grandma has decided he's pretty cool too. I was right that I wouldn't love him like I love the Weebles, I love him in our own special way but of course every bit as much. He is the most wonderful surprise I've ever had. I read on another mama blog the following:

"Not a day goes by that I don’t realize how incredibly fortunate I am. I never imagined you, never dreamed of you, but I am so very glad that I have you. Thank you for finding your way to me."

I love you my precious little 3 month old.

Mama Mama in pajamas

Mama Mama
in Pajamas
Stays home now
that she’s a Mama

Weebles’ Froot Loops on the floor
With a smile signs mo’ mo’ mo’

Mama dresses
And does the hair
Of the Weebles
If she dares

Feeds the Peanut, reads the news
Hopes the Penguins did not lose

Mama Mama
In Pajamas
Has no time for
All this drama

Little Peanut wants a snack
Hold on Mama will be back

Mama Mama
In pajamas
Plays on the floor
Blocks-o-rama

Clean up Clean up!
It’s time for lunch
On what would Weebles
Like to munch?

Little Weebles wants her sweets
That is all she’d like to eat

Mama Mama
In Pajamas
Where in the hell
is grandmama?

Down for naptime, read a book
Mama logs on to Facebook


Kids are up, diapers to change
Always different, colors strange

Mama Mama
in Pajamas
Still not dressed,
bakes Lasagna

Check the mail and play outside
Get some rocks to bring inside

Daddy’s home!
Hurry let’s eat!
Get bathtime done,
Mama is beat.

Mama Mama
In Pajamas
Reads a book
About mad Llamas

Turns out light, time for nummies
Drifts to sleep with full tummies

Mama Mama
Clean Pajamas
Rests up for a new day’s drama.