Our son has never slept on his own. He is almost 2.5 years old and I can count on two hands the number of times he has slept alone. There's a few reasons for this... The big one being he woke up whenever we put him down. The next being my husband was his primary night time care taker and he just had Will sleep with him. It made getting him back to sleep easier. Also, my husband isn't a big fan of being alone so he enjoyed having Will.
When Keely came around Will was in no position to make the transition to his own bed. We also knew it would be a total slap in the face. Hey, here's the new baby, she is sleeping with mommy and daddy and you are outta here. So, I slept with Keely in Wills bed. It was fine for about 6 months. I put her down, got back up for a few hours and worked. Climbed back in, nursed again and fell asleep. Well, she got really big over 6 months. His bed isn't all that big. I was starting to not sleep that well.
Monday, March 25, 2013
Friday, March 22, 2013
Shellie's House
We have bought a house. Now comes the wonderful pleasure of packing a house with a 2 year old and a 7 month old. Pretty much by myself. With the kids. It hasn't been all bad and I sorta started early.
One concern I had though was Will seeing everything he knew go away. This house is the only home he has known. He grew up here. Learned to walk, talk, play, everything. I was so concerned that he would panic at it all disappearing. That's thankfully where Shellie comes in.
Shellie is our real estate agent. Will knows her. Real well. He has seen her numerous times. Numerous. As a matter of fact, when we leave Diana's house, Will states we are going to see Shellie. We looked at a lot of houses.
The house we bought we have been to a few times. Will thinks its Shellie's house. So when I started packing and Will noticed key things getting wrapped and placed in boxes I told him it was going to Shellie's house. I asked if he liked Shellie's house, if he would like to live there, and he gave positive feedback. He is in on the game. He likes helping, he understands what is happening.
It's been real nice for me to have that tool in my pocket.
One concern I had though was Will seeing everything he knew go away. This house is the only home he has known. He grew up here. Learned to walk, talk, play, everything. I was so concerned that he would panic at it all disappearing. That's thankfully where Shellie comes in.
Shellie is our real estate agent. Will knows her. Real well. He has seen her numerous times. Numerous. As a matter of fact, when we leave Diana's house, Will states we are going to see Shellie. We looked at a lot of houses.
The house we bought we have been to a few times. Will thinks its Shellie's house. So when I started packing and Will noticed key things getting wrapped and placed in boxes I told him it was going to Shellie's house. I asked if he liked Shellie's house, if he would like to live there, and he gave positive feedback. He is in on the game. He likes helping, he understands what is happening.
It's been real nice for me to have that tool in my pocket.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Not Going To Lie
I am finding it hard to find the time to brush my teeth. I wore the same gross clothes for 48 hours. I am so pumped to have time for myself when Kiki falls asleep that I stay up until midnight working on pictures and playing with my phone. I am absolutely exhausted. Yet, I stay up from pure excitement of not being needed. I can't seem to keep the kitchen sink clean for 5 minutes. My neighbors must be abhorred to see my sink. There's no curtains and they look, no pun intended, right down on the kitchen.
She Won't Take A Bottle
It just never occurred to me she may not take a bottle. Here we are, a month to go and she won't take a bottle. My husband is going to be a shattered man when I get home.
I photograph weddings. Other things too, but weddings are a 6-8 hour gig. I can't take my baby with me and nurse her every hour. Thank God but also Oh Fuck. I have been boobing this gal for 6 straight months, non stop. No pumping. No formula. Well, twice. The first time, perfect. The second time, traumatic. There have not been successful times at all after that. My husband has tried twice. Screams. I am honestly scared for him.
I decided we needed to break her in. Now. Today was day one. I still have a slight headache. I had him try. He lasted 2 minutes. He thinks she hates him now. I took over. He and Will left. She screamed herself to sleep. I did sing to her though, Señor Don Gato. She likes that song but it only mildly calmed her. I started to rub her head but it was difficult holding her, the bottle and rubbing her head. I eventually rubbed her head with my face. She fell asleep. She managed to drink absolutely nothing in the 15-20 minutes this lasted. This is going to be a horrendous training period.
I photograph weddings. Other things too, but weddings are a 6-8 hour gig. I can't take my baby with me and nurse her every hour. Thank God but also Oh Fuck. I have been boobing this gal for 6 straight months, non stop. No pumping. No formula. Well, twice. The first time, perfect. The second time, traumatic. There have not been successful times at all after that. My husband has tried twice. Screams. I am honestly scared for him.
I decided we needed to break her in. Now. Today was day one. I still have a slight headache. I had him try. He lasted 2 minutes. He thinks she hates him now. I took over. He and Will left. She screamed herself to sleep. I did sing to her though, Señor Don Gato. She likes that song but it only mildly calmed her. I started to rub her head but it was difficult holding her, the bottle and rubbing her head. I eventually rubbed her head with my face. She fell asleep. She managed to drink absolutely nothing in the 15-20 minutes this lasted. This is going to be a horrendous training period.
Pooping is Tough Stuff
I remember a woman at work telling me I needed to have my son potty trained before I gave birth to my daughter. I scoffed. He wasn't even 2 yet. She let me know I was going to have one hell of a time.
That hell of a time has begun. We got Will a potty a long time ago. He loved it at first. He peed and peed. He loved to "flush" it. He even pooped a few times. But now, he freaks out when you tell him to poop in it. Full on tantrum.
I read that you know boys are ready when they can pull their pants down. You know when they start expressing they have to pee or poop. Will does all that. He announces when he is peeing in his diaper. He announces he is pooping in his diaper. So, to keep him ready, I keep him diaper less. It's my only option. Well, he pees but he won't let that poop loose.
This morning we had a complete meltdown. I have the potty in the living room. He announced in the kitchen he was pooping. I told him to hurry, go poop. He freaked. He screamed. I stripped him down and fought him to sit on the potty. I don't like it one bit but I have bribed him. At first it was vitamins. Now it's chocolate chips. He says no to it all. He succumbed to my strength and sat on the potty. Lets keep in mind Kiki is on the kitchen counter, strapped into a booster seat, hungry. I am on the kitchen floor wrestling a two year old onto a Elmo potty. He stayed. I got back up and started to feed her again. I stayed with him long enough to communicate everything was alright and he had to stay and poop. Well that boy wouldn't get up for anything. After half an hour I practically had to force him up. His poor butt suction cupped itself to the bowl.
We moved the potty to under the window in the living room. Nothing. Nap time came and I diapered him up. He woke up soon after falling asleep because Kiki couldn't be quiet. I stripped him again to another temper tantrum. Kicks. Tears. The works. He got back on that toilet again and didn't even get off when the trash man came by. That was impressive. He strained himself to see him but never took his butt off the potty. We managed to eek out a baby turtle head. I exclaimed joy, excitement, gratitude and pride. I could get nothing more. Once James got home he remained diapered for the day and had two severely stinky poops in his diaper.
Tonight I told him that if he had a big poop tomorrow we would take down the mixer and make cookies. He loves the mixer and the process of cookie making. He wants to make cookies for his uncle Derek. On Monday he wanted to make black cookies for his uncle Muddy and uncle Jackson. I really wish my future self could come down and tell me how this all pans out because I could really use the golden poop ticket.
That hell of a time has begun. We got Will a potty a long time ago. He loved it at first. He peed and peed. He loved to "flush" it. He even pooped a few times. But now, he freaks out when you tell him to poop in it. Full on tantrum.
I read that you know boys are ready when they can pull their pants down. You know when they start expressing they have to pee or poop. Will does all that. He announces when he is peeing in his diaper. He announces he is pooping in his diaper. So, to keep him ready, I keep him diaper less. It's my only option. Well, he pees but he won't let that poop loose.
This morning we had a complete meltdown. I have the potty in the living room. He announced in the kitchen he was pooping. I told him to hurry, go poop. He freaked. He screamed. I stripped him down and fought him to sit on the potty. I don't like it one bit but I have bribed him. At first it was vitamins. Now it's chocolate chips. He says no to it all. He succumbed to my strength and sat on the potty. Lets keep in mind Kiki is on the kitchen counter, strapped into a booster seat, hungry. I am on the kitchen floor wrestling a two year old onto a Elmo potty. He stayed. I got back up and started to feed her again. I stayed with him long enough to communicate everything was alright and he had to stay and poop. Well that boy wouldn't get up for anything. After half an hour I practically had to force him up. His poor butt suction cupped itself to the bowl.
We moved the potty to under the window in the living room. Nothing. Nap time came and I diapered him up. He woke up soon after falling asleep because Kiki couldn't be quiet. I stripped him again to another temper tantrum. Kicks. Tears. The works. He got back on that toilet again and didn't even get off when the trash man came by. That was impressive. He strained himself to see him but never took his butt off the potty. We managed to eek out a baby turtle head. I exclaimed joy, excitement, gratitude and pride. I could get nothing more. Once James got home he remained diapered for the day and had two severely stinky poops in his diaper.
Tonight I told him that if he had a big poop tomorrow we would take down the mixer and make cookies. He loves the mixer and the process of cookie making. He wants to make cookies for his uncle Derek. On Monday he wanted to make black cookies for his uncle Muddy and uncle Jackson. I really wish my future self could come down and tell me how this all pans out because I could really use the golden poop ticket.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Fatty is Gone
I don't want to talk about it. Fatty turned out to be a she. It didn't end well but it ended.
We lived with fatty for years. She was loud and scratched above our dining room. She would scratch and scratch. It drove me nuts. I called the landlord but the problem was never resolved. Fatty was intermittent. We told him she was gone, but she wasn't. James and I just took matters into our own hands. We figured out where she was getting in and nailed it shut. She went ballistic. She brought over some friends to get back in but eventually gave up.
She got fat from me. I had some birdseed from a Pinterest craft I saw. Fatty tore a hole in the bag and macked on it all the time. She was brazen. She climbed up on the deck, she scurried up the stairs, she didn't care. Will and I would stare at her as she stared at us filling her face with seeds. The birdseed was put in a bucket and zipped up in the greenhouse. When winter ended and I opened the greenhouse, the full bucket was empty. I saw fatty, she was fat. She was a beast.
Over the years, fatty and I had our run ins. I have whacked the shit out of my ceiling. I have whacked the crap out of my plastic green deck roof. One time, I scared fatty so bad she scurried off the roof, full blown panic mode, and flew into the air. She landed on the ground and took off up the giant tree. I doubled over with laughter. One time, when she became a little savvier, she heard me bang the deck roof and she jumped up on the house roof. I went out onto the deck a little further to feel things out. Fatty jumped down from the roof and landed on the hand railing. I screamed bloody murder. At 8AM. She scurried along and climbed down the deck and into her huge tree.
Some time went by and she came back into the house. This time she came to the opposite side of the house. It happened to be the kids room. She started scratching at 6AM and nap time. She fucked with my wrong hours of the day. I called the landlord again. Told him I wanted them dead. He called in Big Tim. He caught 2. We thought he had caught fatty. She went missing for days. But no. I woke up from a sleepy dream to her scratching. It's like nails on a chalkboard. I called Big Tim. He came back and explored the very cramped, very hot, attic. Fatty slipped past him. He found her nest. He found her tunnels. He baited his traps again.
This morning I heard her in the dining room. An odd choice. She hasn't been there for years. I decided I would call late today. I was beginning to feel like a nagging girlfriend to poor Big Tim. I was at Costco when my neighbor texted that we had caught another squirrel and this one looked hurt. I called up Big Tim. Told him the whole story from scratching to being caught. He thought fatty may have scuffed herself up trying to get out and it wasn't anything to worry about. I wrote my neighbor back and told her the same thing.
When we got home, James checked it out. He came back to me and showed me a picture. He didn't want me to see the damage the squirrel had done to herself but I insisted on looking. I wanted this, I had better look and see what I had brought on. It was horrifying. Fatty had rubbed her face off to the bone. It was raw. Just raw. She consumed the whole cage she was so fat. We went inside the house. We are the only people in our circle of neighbors who don't own a gun. I wrote our neighbor back and told her it was bad. I asked if they had a gun. She said they did but they weren't home. At dark, big Tim showed up. James took Kiki with him outside to talk to Big Tim. They found Fatty was dead. I guessed she had a heart attack from being so fat. Big Tim said they just flip a switch and die. When they know they are in imminent danger and don't want to go on, they can just die. Apparently that's how fatty chose to go.
I am sad it had to end this way. I wish we could have sealed the holes up, wherever they are. I don't ever want to be in this situation again.
We lived with fatty for years. She was loud and scratched above our dining room. She would scratch and scratch. It drove me nuts. I called the landlord but the problem was never resolved. Fatty was intermittent. We told him she was gone, but she wasn't. James and I just took matters into our own hands. We figured out where she was getting in and nailed it shut. She went ballistic. She brought over some friends to get back in but eventually gave up.
She got fat from me. I had some birdseed from a Pinterest craft I saw. Fatty tore a hole in the bag and macked on it all the time. She was brazen. She climbed up on the deck, she scurried up the stairs, she didn't care. Will and I would stare at her as she stared at us filling her face with seeds. The birdseed was put in a bucket and zipped up in the greenhouse. When winter ended and I opened the greenhouse, the full bucket was empty. I saw fatty, she was fat. She was a beast.
Over the years, fatty and I had our run ins. I have whacked the shit out of my ceiling. I have whacked the crap out of my plastic green deck roof. One time, I scared fatty so bad she scurried off the roof, full blown panic mode, and flew into the air. She landed on the ground and took off up the giant tree. I doubled over with laughter. One time, when she became a little savvier, she heard me bang the deck roof and she jumped up on the house roof. I went out onto the deck a little further to feel things out. Fatty jumped down from the roof and landed on the hand railing. I screamed bloody murder. At 8AM. She scurried along and climbed down the deck and into her huge tree.
Some time went by and she came back into the house. This time she came to the opposite side of the house. It happened to be the kids room. She started scratching at 6AM and nap time. She fucked with my wrong hours of the day. I called the landlord again. Told him I wanted them dead. He called in Big Tim. He caught 2. We thought he had caught fatty. She went missing for days. But no. I woke up from a sleepy dream to her scratching. It's like nails on a chalkboard. I called Big Tim. He came back and explored the very cramped, very hot, attic. Fatty slipped past him. He found her nest. He found her tunnels. He baited his traps again.
This morning I heard her in the dining room. An odd choice. She hasn't been there for years. I decided I would call late today. I was beginning to feel like a nagging girlfriend to poor Big Tim. I was at Costco when my neighbor texted that we had caught another squirrel and this one looked hurt. I called up Big Tim. Told him the whole story from scratching to being caught. He thought fatty may have scuffed herself up trying to get out and it wasn't anything to worry about. I wrote my neighbor back and told her the same thing.
When we got home, James checked it out. He came back to me and showed me a picture. He didn't want me to see the damage the squirrel had done to herself but I insisted on looking. I wanted this, I had better look and see what I had brought on. It was horrifying. Fatty had rubbed her face off to the bone. It was raw. Just raw. She consumed the whole cage she was so fat. We went inside the house. We are the only people in our circle of neighbors who don't own a gun. I wrote our neighbor back and told her it was bad. I asked if they had a gun. She said they did but they weren't home. At dark, big Tim showed up. James took Kiki with him outside to talk to Big Tim. They found Fatty was dead. I guessed she had a heart attack from being so fat. Big Tim said they just flip a switch and die. When they know they are in imminent danger and don't want to go on, they can just die. Apparently that's how fatty chose to go.
I am sad it had to end this way. I wish we could have sealed the holes up, wherever they are. I don't ever want to be in this situation again.
Friday, March 1, 2013
Birthdays Suck
I guess the birthday still has a chance. I used to love it but now, it's got too much built up. Yesterday was my birthday and it may have been my most traumatic yet.
My husband is really amazing. He works so hard he enables me to be a stay at home mom and not want for anything. With that said, everyday is my birthday. All I have to do is get the kids to the store, deal with them while also trying to find whatever my whimsy wanted and its Happy Birthday To Me.
This year my husband took the day off from work to hang out with us. I was so happy to have him. Being a SAM is a tough job and I am always reminded of that when he is home. We went out to breakfast and that alone was a chore. Kiki started out great but right before our breakfast came she decided she needed to nurse. There is virtually nothing I hate more than nursing in public. You would think they would give us a table far from anyone's sight, but no, they put you right smack in the middle of the place. I sat in a chair instead of the awesome booth because a 6 month old and the biggest boobs you have ever seen don't have enough work space between the table and booth. The space I consumed of course interfered with patrons passing through and of course as soon as boob land comes out people start moving. I had mentally prepared myself for this for days so it didn't completely ruin me. I ate my breakfast slowly because nursing and eating are not an easy feat to accomplish. As soon as we walked into the restaurant my son saw balloons and immediately lusted for one. James worked it out with Will he had to eat so many bites before he could land his sticky fingers on a balloon. The mission was eventually successful but not without a lot of fussiness and obvious exhaustion from Will. After breakfast he got his balloon. I hate balloons. Will does not get they fly away. The waitress tried to tie the balloon to him, he flipped out. James tried to tie it to his suitcase, he flipped out. James then tried tying it to a crayon and a shoe both resulting in long waits and tons of tears. Once finally in the car with his balloon just the way he likes it he starts rubbing it hard. He is trying to pop it. He knows I hate it which makes him love it. He pops is. He loses it. Bawling. Begging us to fix it. Bawling more because we say no. We are quite confident he will fall asleep. Nope.
Next we went downtown. My husband who never shops for himself needed to do some returns and try again. I took Kiki to look at shoes, he took Will to look at clothes. I find my awesome $10 wedges, major score, and go look for them. There's nothing in the cart. The two of them are playing with the water fountain. I tell James that I will now take Will so he can concentrate. Five minutes later he is back with us with nothing and ready to go. I am upset internally. I know he needs my help and opinions but I can't give them because I am hidden away in a cave watching a 2 year old push the water fountain button while bouncing a hungry baby.
We take a walk to another store. Again, I can't help him because I am busy keeping Will from climbing the ledge, riding with him in elevators and trying to keep him safe and patrons happy. BTW Columbia store, you should open that big, huge, welcoming, blank expanse of space up to kids. Wow. It would make for some very happy parents. Thanks for telling us we couldn't go in after my son was well in there and then telling me you wish you were that age. Oh, did you enjoy being a little person denied having a place to play?
Back in the car I nursed and then we drove to Costco. Kiki fell asleep but not Will. James started to stress about time. His mother said she would watch the kids while we went off for a nice dinner. Her treat. I was very excited about it. I wanted desperately for the kids to sleep so this magical moment could happen. It was getting late. James and Will took my list while I sat in the car with Kiki. She eventually woke up and I had to pee. I called James who was checking out. We decided I would come in and split a hot dog with him. When I found them they had a cart full if birthday things for me! James bought me a bag full of iris bulbs. Honestly, those particular ones are not my faves. He could see the disappointment in me and told me to go find what I wanted. I felt horrible but I did just that. After looking I realized he had picked the best thing. So we finished up and got the heck out of there.
Heading home to pick up our date clothes little man finally slept. James got our stuff while I was shoved in the backseat nursing Kiki in her car seat. Thank goodness for big bazooms. I could feed her from my seat while she remained in her car seat. I had to do this because I was so fearful of her waking Will. I remained like this from, oh, pretty much Costco to Mukilteo. Eventually my boob ran out of milk and luckily I found a squeezie and a spoon all within arms length. She macked on that until we were in line for the ferry. We got there and encountered a line so we missed a ferry and the line was so long we missed the next ferry. Meanwhile Will I'd sleeping, Kiki is STILL eating, James is stressing out and now I am too. I realized my "go with the flow" attitude was going to get us home very late. Also, Kiki was not sleeping and a sleepy Kiki was not what I wanted to leave Diana with. I flat out couldn't leave her like that. If Keely didn't sleep, we could not go on our date. She wound up falling falling asleep 2 minutes before we docked. I seriously considered not putting her back in her car seat and driving to Diana's with her in my arms. But no. There are too many deer on that damn island and I knew we would be driving 50 mph with her in my arms and we would careen into a deer and all die. Back she went crying as we did so. She slept the 5 minutes it takes to get there and I stayed with her in the car while Janes went inside to warn everyone to be quiet.
It sort of went downhill from there. Diana
My husband is really amazing. He works so hard he enables me to be a stay at home mom and not want for anything. With that said, everyday is my birthday. All I have to do is get the kids to the store, deal with them while also trying to find whatever my whimsy wanted and its Happy Birthday To Me.
This year my husband took the day off from work to hang out with us. I was so happy to have him. Being a SAM is a tough job and I am always reminded of that when he is home. We went out to breakfast and that alone was a chore. Kiki started out great but right before our breakfast came she decided she needed to nurse. There is virtually nothing I hate more than nursing in public. You would think they would give us a table far from anyone's sight, but no, they put you right smack in the middle of the place. I sat in a chair instead of the awesome booth because a 6 month old and the biggest boobs you have ever seen don't have enough work space between the table and booth. The space I consumed of course interfered with patrons passing through and of course as soon as boob land comes out people start moving. I had mentally prepared myself for this for days so it didn't completely ruin me. I ate my breakfast slowly because nursing and eating are not an easy feat to accomplish. As soon as we walked into the restaurant my son saw balloons and immediately lusted for one. James worked it out with Will he had to eat so many bites before he could land his sticky fingers on a balloon. The mission was eventually successful but not without a lot of fussiness and obvious exhaustion from Will. After breakfast he got his balloon. I hate balloons. Will does not get they fly away. The waitress tried to tie the balloon to him, he flipped out. James tried to tie it to his suitcase, he flipped out. James then tried tying it to a crayon and a shoe both resulting in long waits and tons of tears. Once finally in the car with his balloon just the way he likes it he starts rubbing it hard. He is trying to pop it. He knows I hate it which makes him love it. He pops is. He loses it. Bawling. Begging us to fix it. Bawling more because we say no. We are quite confident he will fall asleep. Nope.
Next we went downtown. My husband who never shops for himself needed to do some returns and try again. I took Kiki to look at shoes, he took Will to look at clothes. I find my awesome $10 wedges, major score, and go look for them. There's nothing in the cart. The two of them are playing with the water fountain. I tell James that I will now take Will so he can concentrate. Five minutes later he is back with us with nothing and ready to go. I am upset internally. I know he needs my help and opinions but I can't give them because I am hidden away in a cave watching a 2 year old push the water fountain button while bouncing a hungry baby.
We take a walk to another store. Again, I can't help him because I am busy keeping Will from climbing the ledge, riding with him in elevators and trying to keep him safe and patrons happy. BTW Columbia store, you should open that big, huge, welcoming, blank expanse of space up to kids. Wow. It would make for some very happy parents. Thanks for telling us we couldn't go in after my son was well in there and then telling me you wish you were that age. Oh, did you enjoy being a little person denied having a place to play?
Back in the car I nursed and then we drove to Costco. Kiki fell asleep but not Will. James started to stress about time. His mother said she would watch the kids while we went off for a nice dinner. Her treat. I was very excited about it. I wanted desperately for the kids to sleep so this magical moment could happen. It was getting late. James and Will took my list while I sat in the car with Kiki. She eventually woke up and I had to pee. I called James who was checking out. We decided I would come in and split a hot dog with him. When I found them they had a cart full if birthday things for me! James bought me a bag full of iris bulbs. Honestly, those particular ones are not my faves. He could see the disappointment in me and told me to go find what I wanted. I felt horrible but I did just that. After looking I realized he had picked the best thing. So we finished up and got the heck out of there.
Heading home to pick up our date clothes little man finally slept. James got our stuff while I was shoved in the backseat nursing Kiki in her car seat. Thank goodness for big bazooms. I could feed her from my seat while she remained in her car seat. I had to do this because I was so fearful of her waking Will. I remained like this from, oh, pretty much Costco to Mukilteo. Eventually my boob ran out of milk and luckily I found a squeezie and a spoon all within arms length. She macked on that until we were in line for the ferry. We got there and encountered a line so we missed a ferry and the line was so long we missed the next ferry. Meanwhile Will I'd sleeping, Kiki is STILL eating, James is stressing out and now I am too. I realized my "go with the flow" attitude was going to get us home very late. Also, Kiki was not sleeping and a sleepy Kiki was not what I wanted to leave Diana with. I flat out couldn't leave her like that. If Keely didn't sleep, we could not go on our date. She wound up falling falling asleep 2 minutes before we docked. I seriously considered not putting her back in her car seat and driving to Diana's with her in my arms. But no. There are too many deer on that damn island and I knew we would be driving 50 mph with her in my arms and we would careen into a deer and all die. Back she went crying as we did so. She slept the 5 minutes it takes to get there and I stayed with her in the car while Janes went inside to warn everyone to be quiet.
It sort of went downhill from there. Diana
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