Can't forget sis

N can write her first name. Hooray! She did it all by herself on Monday and just beamed.

In working with her on the letters of her name, N introduced me to a new letter, or perhaps it is an ancient symbol that she recalls from a previous incarnation. She calls it a torteeum. It looks like an rounded A with a line at the bottom. Whenever she would work on her A, she would draw this, sigh heavily, and say, "I made a torteeum again."

Today she saw an overripe banana on the kitchen counter and asked, "Is this banana sick?" I guess since she is running a fever she thinks that banana looks the way she feels.

She visited the dentist on Monday (no cavities) and was given 3 little plastic horses from the goody bag. Tonight while playing, she asked me what I was gonna name the pink one that was "mine." I said Pegasus. She named the other 2 Jajuwa and Taduwa. Isn't there a joke about those names??? Oh no, that is lemonjello and orangejello.

4-Month Mega Baby

Tubby.
Lardo.
Chubs.
Sure, he is not the biggest baby in the world, but he is a healthy 17 lb, 2 oz-- putting him firmly in the 85th percentile for weight. 60th for height.

Laughing much more frequently and grabbing his toes any chance he can. And he just jabbers away, even in his sleep. He is gonna be a talker like his mama.

Foibles

It is a good thing I don't really believe in heaven because chances are pretty slim I would ever manage to get there anyway. My life is sometimes a constant series of me saying, thinking and /or doing things that either piss people off, hurt people's feelings or just aggravate the hell outta me.

Example 1: I did hurt feelings when I explained about N being upset about her playdate friend, and even though I don't question my decision I do regret hurting someone. She loves her daughter just as fiercely as I love mine and is equally protective. I always feel badly when something I say makes someone else feel hurt or wronged.

Example 2: Yep, the whole N playdate thing again. N is 3. Yes, nearly 4, but still 3, and so still a baby to me. Was I too much of a butt-in-ski? Should I have just let N work it out, whatever she was/is feeling, on her own? My heart says no because N is generally a sensitive kid and doesn't fully understand her feelings and if she is saying stuff I need to take it seriously, but my head wonders if I just let "mama bear" run spastic.

But what is done is done, and I have probably angered this other mom to the point where she will duck her head whenever she sees me coming.

That is one of the harder things about this being a mom business. My adult friendships of the moment are tied to N's friendships of the moment because moms with preschoolers are the only adults I see. So if N's friendships sour, in all likelihood, my friendships will sour as well, at least to some extent. Or vice versa--if my friendship with a mom sours, N's friendship will take a hit too.

Hell, it is hard enough to maintain friendships when you don't have to take into account your preschooler's emotional and social health/development and the ferocious mama bear who lives in all of us.

I don't wanna hurt the dog

I want to hurt the dumb fuck neighbor who owns the dog and leaves it outside in the cold to bark and bark and bark.

This neighbor is proof that just because you can afford to live in a nice neighborhood doesn't mean you have sense, class or respect.

Aside from the fact that it is like 24 degrees outside and the dog doesn't have a doghouse or any warm shelter from the cold, the damn dog won't shut up. If I could understand dog language, I would probably understand him to be saying, "My balls are cold. Let me in motherfucker."

I am not a big fan of dogs in general because of the licking, but having this schmuck as a neighbor has made me borderline hateful of dogs...simply because he is so inconsiderate of his neighbors. I am about ready to make a CD loop of G crying and put it on his back porch at 4:00 a.m. I don't wanna listen to my kid cry, just like he doesn't want to listen to his dog bark. If I have to listen to his noise pollution, he can listen to my noise pollution.

It's a good thing I'm not god because this shithead dog-owner would be returned to dust ASAP.

Stepping through a minefield

I had to call another mom and tell her N doesn't want to play with her daughter anymore. Man, that was so unfun. And I'm really torn up about this (damn my ultra-sensitive personality).

N's playdates with this girl began when G was about a month old. At first, I was just so thrilled for N to have something to do besides sit in front of the tube or watch me nurse her brother. N had started to have a little love affair with L over the summer when they would play together at the pool, and it continued into the fall.

I started to notice N was overly-dependent on L, and L just kinda ignored her. L is nearly a year older than N, so I thought it was just an immaturity issue on the part of N. At our neighborhood Halloween festival, N was constantly chasing after calling, "L, wait for me." L just ran off and did her own thing, regardless of N trailing behind her. Admittedly, this behavior of N's was driving me nuts. The world doesn't begin and end with L or any child, and I hated that my child seemed so needy and dependent on another kid.

Once the playdates began, I eventually noticed when I would pick N up from L's that N was always in a Snow White costume and L was in a Sleeping Beauty costume. Who cares, I know, but N adores Sleeping Beauty and would always choose that costume if given an opportunity. So I started to wonder, "Is she not being given the opportunity?"

Then N started saying stuff like, "I like Sleeping Beauty, not L," and "Sleeping Beauty is my favorite, not L's." And I know full well that Sleeping Beauty is L's favorite, so why was N saying things like this?

Last week, when L came to our house, N hit her because L pulled N's pacifier out of her mouth (and why did she even have her pacifier in her mouth--keep reading). And then on Thursday, she got upset at L's house and started crying to the point where L's mom couldn't calm her down. When I talked to L's mom, it totally didn't make sense what N was crying about, but the fact that she got upset and was glad to leave is what bothers me.

So I told L's mom today that I think we need to take a break from playdates, and I suspect she got her feelings hurt. She didn't say this so I may just be over-worrying, but I thought I heard it in her voice.

And as much as I don't want to hurt L or L's mom's feelings, my daughter's feelings come first.

I get the sense that since L is nearly a year older, she kinda dictates what the girls play. L has a forceful, exuberant personality, while N tends usually to be fairly easygoing. And N, especially in someone else's house, is generally not going to pitch a fit about anything even if stuff does bother her, which may be why she started with the "Sleeping Beauty is my favorite" stuff. Perhaps that is her roundabout way of saying "I'm not happy." Heck, last week in our house, when her friend, I, wanted to play Barbies and N wanted to play Polly Pockets, N just got her pacifier and laid on the couch. So that is what N does when things aren't going the way she wants---she retreats and gets her pacifier.

So I feel like I've been walking through a emotional minefield--worrying about L stepping on N's feelings, worrying about myself stepping on L's mom's feelings, worrying whether I am being too sensitive to this whole thing.

But I gotta look out for my own.

Highlights of the week

Let's see--where do I begin. I better go backwards since I honestly can't remember what happened 4 days ago.

Today--Friday 25th -- had a playdate with S and G at local art gallery. N had fun, and I have a backache from hauling tubby around in the Snugli (I know he weighs at least 45 lbs). G did actually sleep for about 45 minutes as an afternoon nap and went to bed at 6:50 pm.

Thursday 24th -- N had a playdate at a friend's which resulted in N crying inconsolably and for once, being eager for me to take her home, and now not wanting to play with this little girl. This is a mom's worst PR nightmare. I mean how do you nicely say, "My kid doesn't want to hang with your kid anymore?" I've got to do it, though, because these 2 girls are just not clicking.

Wednesday 23rd -- Storytime at the library and paid car taxes (yippeee). Filled out invitations for N's 4th birthday party. Slept like shit as a result of worrying about hosting a 4-year-old's birthday party. Good grief.

Tuesday 22nd -- N had playdate after preschool with her classmate. No trauma...thank god.

Monday 21st -- Vaguely remember this day. D was off work.

I would say I wish I had something of interest to report, but usually when I've wished for something exciting it always turns into some "bad" exciting, like a spider bite that turns into an amputated limb (ok, that has never actually happened but I have to use my powers of hyperbole whenever given the opportunity which ain't much with an ultra-literal preschooler).

I didn't check my email this week for 2 days, which is a record. If I didn't have to haul ass to the basement office and have both kids in tow, it would be better. I have asked for a most unromantic laptop for my 35th birthday. How truly lame I have become.

Oh, and I had my hair cut super short because I was pulling it back with N's barrettes. It is really dumb to be wearing your preschoolers' hair accessories, so I just said "Chop it." That was last Saturday. Hey, I remembered what I did last Saturday. Amazing. My brain still does work.

Ok, I'm gonna stop typing because this is all so boring. I am falling asleep at the keyboard.

Dangling carrot

Yep, D could find something sexual to make out of this blog title, but it has nothing to do with genitalia or produce.

N has mentioned wanting to have a "friend" party to celebrate her birthday, and while I am not keen on the idea because it means more work for me, I also know she has been going to lots of other kids' parties so why should she be the only one to not have something special?

So I have agreed that she can invite 4 friends (since she is turning 4). I figure this is manageable. We can have a small tea-party.

But I have told her she has to print her name on her thank you cards so we have to start working on her printing the letters of her name. She already knows how to do a couple of them, so it shouldn't be too difficult, at least in theory. We shall see.

The things she says...

And the things my husband's dirty mind does with them.

This evening, N said, "Mommy, blow on my hot dog." And she meant to cool it off so she could eat it. But D, the perv he is, just giggled like an 11-year-old boy.

And then later after I put G to bed, N and D were playing Barbie Pet Shop. I asked if I could play. N said I could be the "comer," as in the person who comes to the store to buy the pets. Snicker, snicker, snort from the peanut gallery.

Gee whiz. I'll be glad when he goes back to work tomorrow.

HOLY COW!!

The unthinkable happened. G slept last night from 9:00 pm until 7:15 am. I am astounded, amazed, awe-inspired. I wish I knew more "a" words to continue that sentence.

De-junkifying

I am in the process of de-junkifying my house in preparation for June's neighborhood yard sale. Yes, that is correct. June.
I am anal and clearly 2 kids aren't keeping me quite busy enough.

I go through this periodically where I just get so sick of the stuff in closets that I haven't worn in ages or haven't used in ages or don't like at all.

Last weekend my oldest friend came over to shop in my closet. She is always my first line of defense when I get "mission organization" fever.

A friend came over the other day to show me how to sell stuff on Ebay. I am putting N's flower girl dress up for auction. It just seems stupid to hang onto it when she will never wear it again. I am going to list a bridesmaid dress as well (from my brother's wedding). And a coat.

I've signed onto my local cheapcycle site as well. I was telling D about it and mentioned that maybe he can get rid of his giganto speakers that take up a helluva lot of space in our basement closet. When I told him HE can keep the money from the sale, he got a little interested. Hmmmmm, money for more Xbox games.

Strangely enough, though, today I purchased a ton of toys today on clearance. Not for N or G but for my new Gift Box. N is being invited to lots more birthday parties, and I just can't afford to spend $20 on every kid. Heck I only allot about $25 for my niece and nephews. So I got a bunch of toys today, each one less than $5.50---Polly Pockets, Play-Doh sets, Marvel Comic toys, etc. And I ordered a bunch of $.95 and $1.95 books from her preschool Scholastic Book Clubs to go into the Gift Box as well. The box is now full so I don't have to run out and buy stuff whenever an invitation arrives. All N and I will have to do is wrap 'em up and decorate a homemade card. Yippeee!

So hopefully between cheapcycle and Ebay, I can get rid of some stuff. And then move onto the yard sale. And after that, freecycle and Goodwill. I love the Peppermint Patty sensation of getting rid of stuff.

My guilty pleasure

I can assure you it has nothing to do with sex. (Poor, poor D.)

I am totally addicted to People.com. I had been buying People, US and other celebrity rags but have decided that it is just as much fun and a lot cheaper to hit their websites.

Once I check my email and go through my favorite blogs, I am all over those stupid vacuous celebrities. All their baby bumps, freaky kid names and irreconcilable differences. Fun, fun, brainless fun.

I used to not want to read the mags because I thought it was beneath me. I "should" be reading literature (say it lit-trit-ture so you sound pompous). So I'd read Victorian novels and fight the urge to pick up a People in line at the grocery. But now, all my mind wants to do after a full day of mommying is read about Nicole Richie and Britney Spears. And I don't care who knows or who thinks I'm a twit for it.

Better than smoking weed to relax, right?

Smug

I hope other people don't realize this about me, but I am so completely smug. Or at least I have moments of complete smugness.

The other day after trying on new pants and being able to fit into my old before pregnancy size, I was feeling really jazzed that I've lost alot of my weight as a result of breastfeeding. This thought led to thinking about how so many of the new moms I have been meeting don't breastfeed at all or breastfeed for like, 20 minutes and then quit, which really surprises me especially when they are SAHMs. This thought led to thinking about how many of these same moms are going to the gym to work off their pregnancy weight. This thought led to thinking about how many women don't like the hassle of breastfeeding but are ok with the hassle of working out at the gym. I prefer to lose weight while sitting on the couch, reading a magazine and having it sucked out of me, thank you. This thought led to thinking the self-satisfied notion that in addition to giving my baby the absolute best nutrition there is, I am looking pretty ok physically without having to break a sweat (of course, there ain't a toned muscle in my whole body).

There ya go. Carrie V. has it all figured out and is on top of her game! Whooahh! Isn't she so fucking remarkable!

On the one hand, I hate it when I feel smug, but then again, I do think breast is best. And I do think there is something really admirable about women who put up with the pain and hassle of breastfeeding because it is what is good for their baby, even if it is a kind of a pain in the butt early on for them. Of course, I have a high "put up with shit" threshold, at least as it concerns my children. I told D we would put the house up for sale and move before I go back to work because I don't want my kids in daycare. It's like a Seinfeld episode in my head: "Not that there's anything wrong with that"-- using formula or having children in daycare. But there is something wrong with that for me, and I guess that is all that matters.

I guess I just need to accept my inner smug.

Doll names

I should have known N would have a knack for strange doll names when she came up with Pa-Sa-Pa for my old Cabbage Patch doll. Mind you, N was only about 2 when she said this (which we later realized was her saying basketball, thereby naming the doll basketball).

Anyway, now N comes up with weird names for her Polly Pockets. Teddel, Teddeliese, Attaliese, Chitty, Chatty, and all these really weird syllabic sounds-- Ablayeree, Adavlee, etc.

I mean, she knows plenty of little kids whom she could name her dolls after or name them after tv characters--Ruby, Dora, Caillou.

So I don't know if this means she is really creative or really weird. Or a combination of both.

Putting the kibosh on

I admit it. My guilt over bringing a 2nd child into the house made me become a bit of a softy with N...at least temporarily. That and it is just really hard to discipline when you are a.) exhausted, b.) nursing a baby constantly, and c.) really fucking exhausted.

I didn't want to be too hard on N with the adjustment of having a new brother in the house. I got slack about being consistent and saying something only once before acting on it. But now we are 3+ months in. I am sleeping slightly better and not having to nurse 20,000 times a day. So I am ready to instill some normalcy around here.

You see, N darn near lost her ever lovin' mind and turned into a absolute brat. In retrospect I know it has been coming on for awhile, but all of a sudden D and I noticed that she had become a belligerent little shit who we felt like dumping on the side of the road.

In the past 2 weeks we have had to carry her out of people's houses at least 3 times after she yelled at us, hit us, and/or refused to get her shoes on and leave. So last night, D and I staged a coup and decided to overthrow the little midget tyrant. She had what may have been the world's longest time out in her bedroom and lost all tv privileges today. We have returned to the "say it once and that's it" routine. And today was better. Not a single tantrum, even when she was tired which is when most of her tantrums happen.

I still feel a wee bit guilty about turning her world upside down with a sibling but not enough to let her turn into a child I cannot stand.

Mishmash

So today I took G for his 3-month pictures. Damn he was cute. So cute, in fact, that I now have a 2nd mortgage to pay for his portraits. My intention was to spend like $60, so I only went $100 over budget.

The photographer had me strip him to his diaper and put a black diaper cover over it. She then used a black drape to create these PlayGirl-type shots of my boy's fat rolls. Soo cute (and only a tad bit racy).

N was playing at a friend's while I got pics done. I had to carry her out since she kept running away from me and refused to leave. I love it when she embarrasses the hell out of me in front of my friends. I am royally screwed when she gets too big for me to pick up and haul her ass outta places.

I have a to-do list of really far out crap that needs to be done but I so don't want to do...like take my mercury thermometers all the way across town to the hazardous waste recycling center. They have been sitting on my desk for 6.5 years waiting to be thrown out. I am determined to get these piddly jobs done. I also need to sew a button on my coat.

What is up with mattress stores? How is it possible for all these mattress stores to stay in business? How often do other people purchase new mattresses for their beds? Everytime I get in the car and drive down the road another damn store has opened up. Someone please explain this before it starts keeping me awake at night.

N has watched the movie Flushed Away nearly 4 trillion times since last Saturday. She is quite familiar with the song Proud Mary, which comes at the end of the film. I have also turned the kid onto Queen. One day while playing Barbies, 2 of the girls were fighting over a Ken. I had the one who didn't get the dude, so I had my Barbie start singing, "Find me somebody to looove. Find me somebody to looove." N picked up on that right away. When I told her the name of the band that sings it is called Queen, she thought that was even cooler. (Maybe there is a band called Princess???)

That's all for now.

The impossible happened

G slept from before 8:00 pm last night until 4:30 am today before waking for a feeding.

Praise Mary, Joseph and Jesus!!!!

I love my boy!

Working v. Staying Home-- A Rant

Ok, so yesterday my mom was telling me about her friend who keeps her granddaughter every Saturday night because the parents, both of whom work full-time outside the home, need a "break."

Give me a break.

I am glad women have the choice to either work or not, but most people think there isn't a choice---that women who stay at home are just lucky and women who work have to. So not true.

I have had people say the following to me:

• You have the luxury of staying home. (Um, luxury is staying home to play tennis and having a nanny watch my kids.)
• You are so lucky you can afford to stay home. (Comments below.)
• Most women aren't as fortunate as you. (No, you mean as crazy as me to choose to stay at home.)

Staying at home is a choice. Working outside the home and having kids are choices. If you have children and work and are tired, that is your own choice (or stupid fault) whichever way you want to look at it. I too am tired but I chose to only have 1 full-time job, not two.

Yes, there are some women, probably far fewer than most people think, who honest to God have no choice but to work. But having children and living certain lifestyles are choices for sure.

Everything D and I have done since getting married has been a choice related to me wanting to stay at home. We have always lived on 1 salary, even when I worked. My salary was put into savings so we'd have a cushion for when I stayed home. Both of us chose to get master's degrees to increase our earnings so I could stay home. We have always lived within our means...again a choice. I don't buy lots of shoes or clothes. I buy no purses, cosmetics, or acrylic nails. We waited over 6 years after marrying to have a baby so we could be really financially secure. All choices.

Women who work have luxuries that no one gives them grief about. No one says the following to them:

• You are so lucky to be able to relieve yourself pretty much whenever you want to during the day 5 days a week without having 1-2 other people bugging you while you do it or asking if they can see your poops.
  
• You are fortunate that you can eat your lunch 5 days a week in relative peace without having to stop to change a diaper, cut someone's meat or wipe snot off of someone's nose.
• What a luxury it is to be around adults 8+ hours a day, actually bring home a paycheck and get an annual review where someone says good job for accomplishing x,y and z.

And, I'm sorry, but when you spend most of your week away from your kid(s) you cannot say you need a break from them on the weekend. I am with my children 24/7, 365. I need a break from my kids. You need a break from your entire chaotic life. But dammit, please remember, that that was your CHOICE!

Friendship or flagellation?

As N gets older, I am having a difficult time in handling her little friendships, if I can call them that. My definition of friendship--mutual respect, honesty, communication--are NOT required in preschool friendships, at least where my daughter is concerned. Another girl who likes pink is all she requires. Perhaps a shared love of Disney Princesses.

We have been having some "drop off" playdates, which are GREAT if you get to drop your kid off. Not so terrific if you are the referee, um, I mean parent in charge of the playdate.

A couple of things have bothered me lately about these playdates and some of her friendships.

First, my rule is that guests come first. If N has a guest over, she needs to ask them what they want to do or offer them a toy first, rather than giving them second choice on everything. Unfortunately, I don't think this is how some of her playdate friends operate in their own homes when N is a guest, so I worry that N is playing 2nd fiddle in her own home and in the homes of her friends. And I, of course, can't dictate what other people do in their homes.

Second, some of her friends are older, by up to a year or so, which makes a big difference on so many levels. Based on what I've heard when she has had friends over, I wonder if she is getting bossed around a little too much. I have had a couple of her friends come into the house and tell me that they are gonna watch a movie, to which I reply, "No you're not." I figure if a kid is trying to boss me around, I know they are gonna have their way with my kid."

Third, N gets kinda obsessive about certain friends--hell she is my daughter after all. All she can talk about is Jane and Jody. Jane this and Jody that, which bugs the HELL outta me because she acts as if the world revolves around these kids. I just don't like her being so hell-bent on certain kids to the exclusion of other kids, especially when Jane and Jody are sometimes a little mean to N.

(Good Lord, I hate to say it but that is how I was although I was older. My world revolved around Danette, who basically would hang out with me whenever she couldn't find something better to do. It drove my mom NUTS because everything was "Danette this" and "Danette that." It wasn't until I got into high school that I finally started understanding what good friends are.)

I know I have to back away from this a bit because while I may think Jane and Jody are being mean, they are being kids and N has to experience some of this to know what she will and won't stand for in friends. And I have certainly heard N boss other kids around. But momma bear wants to protect her cub from any and all things that will make her child sad. Jane and Jody aren't bad kids at all, but they aren't my kid. When N is bossy to other kids, I tend to think it is a good trait, being a leader and not letting other kids push her around. But I don't like it when my kid is on the receiving end of bossiness.

Sheesh, it is emotionally draining being the momma of a child who is learning how to be a and find a friend.

Is this really fun for you?

Today I took N and G to AAK so N could jump, run and skip to get out some of the energy she had bundled up from spending too much time in the house playing Barbies and Polly Pockets.

She had a good time, mostly...I think.

N kinda latched onto this very small 6-year-old (read small as being the same size as N) named Roxi. When N latches onto another child, it is kinda like having a preschool stalker. Anyway, N would say, "Let's go on the trampoline," but Roxi wouldn't want to so N would cross her arms, pout and go sit in the corner. I forget how many times she went into self-imposed exile, but I finally got tired of trying to coax her out.

At one point, Roxi (who had taken an gymnastics class per her mom) was jumping up to a uneven bar. Given her prior experience in a class and the fact that she is 6, she was able to do it. N, of course, couldn't. She sunk her head and said, "I wish I could do it like that girl."

Later, N said to Roxi, "Watch me do a cartwheel." Now bear in mind, N's cartwheel involves her laying down on the ground and kinda rolling on her back with her legs up in the air. Roxi said, "That's not a cartwheel." Another sad look passed N's face.

Finally, G fell asleep in the Snugli so I told N we had to go get his carseat. She came unglued because she didn't want to leave "her friend." I convinced her we would find her friend as soon as we came back. When we did return, she couldn't find Roxi and the tears poured. "I want a friend to play with," she sobbed.

Roxi's mom was trying her best to keep Roxi from being outright mean to N, but you could tell Roxi would have preferred if the little 3-year-old would have found someone else to whom to cling.

So I felt awkward because I didn't want to stop N from trying to make a friend but I also knew Roxi didn't want to have anything to do with her. It seems like if you have that many pouting episodes and crying spells over another person, you really need to find someone new. Funny that the advice I finally learned to give myself about men is reappearing with my preschooler.