Did I tell you that I was refilling my pepper grinder and it broke and peppercorns went all over my kitchen? That's the kind of thing I do, you know. I'm still finding peppercorns 5 days later. That didn't seem like enough, so today Piglet climbed up on the kitchen table (sans Gus) and found the new-to-him salt shaker which pours out really fast! He made 6 little mountains of salt before getting caught and in his haste to hide the evidence, he swept the whole mess, about half a cup of salt, all over the floor. Good fun, good fun.
I miraculously got both boys to sleep with a predicted 30 minute overlap and darted to the kitchen to get something for lunch. Heating my soup, I decided to give myself an extra treat: I was going to pee alone! Somehow I managed to cut the end of my thumb in my zipper after a hasty pee and bled all over the place, messing up my shirt. While cleaning up that mess, the doorbell rang, setting off Gus the Guard Beagle howling like he was being attacked. I screamed creative non-profane insults at him and opened the door to find that Mr. FedEx had dropped off a package for me.
Know what was in it? Twelve Ferraro chocolates. FREE ONES! I'm not sure if I've mentioned my new habit, but it's....um.....ordering free things. Like kind of obsessively. I'm getting about 12 free magazines and at least 2 product samples in the mail every day. It is insanely fun to get free stuff. This, of course, is on the side of coupon scamming CVS and Kroger every week. Gonna go eat a chocolate now.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Are you kidding me?
This dog has taken his role as cleaner-upper after meals waaaaaay too far. This is how I found him after I put Piglet down for nap. Just sitting there nonchalantly. "What?" he asks.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
How do you explain inauguration to a two year old?
Me: Look, Piglet! We're getting a new President!
Piglet: Presents?
Me: No, Pres-i-dent. Can you say that?
Piglet: Piglet wants presents.
Me: There are no presents. It's not your birthday or Christmas.
Piglet: No.
Me: Look! That's the old President, and that's the new President.
Piglet: New presents? Piglet wants birthday cake!
Me: Sigh. So much for a meaningful day. Okay, the President is in charge of our country.
Piglet: [nods] Mommy in charge!
Me: Yes! Mommy is in charge of our house, the President is in charge of the whole country!
Piglet: [nodding, thinking, points to TV] That's Mommy!
Me: No, that's the President. [it was in fact the President by this point as the entire oath and ceremony has passed us by]
Piglet: Presents! Santa Claus! Ho ho ho! [Smiles, proud he has unraveled this mystery.]
Me: Whatever, Russ. Whatever.
Piglet: Presents?
Me: No, Pres-i-dent. Can you say that?
Piglet: Piglet wants presents.
Me: There are no presents. It's not your birthday or Christmas.
Piglet: No.
Me: Look! That's the old President, and that's the new President.
Piglet: New presents? Piglet wants birthday cake!
Me: Sigh. So much for a meaningful day. Okay, the President is in charge of our country.
Piglet: [nods] Mommy in charge!
Me: Yes! Mommy is in charge of our house, the President is in charge of the whole country!
Piglet: [nodding, thinking, points to TV] That's Mommy!
Me: No, that's the President. [it was in fact the President by this point as the entire oath and ceremony has passed us by]
Piglet: Presents! Santa Claus! Ho ho ho! [Smiles, proud he has unraveled this mystery.]
Me: Whatever, Russ. Whatever.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Three
I remember when my day was full just taking care of myself. I read over at Jen's blog the other day how she envisioned maternity leave being this awesome break that involved plenty of time to blog, etc. I remember having the same thought - I mean, pesky job out of the way, I should be laden with time, right? I came to the same realization that she did, that you can't figure out where the time goes.
Today, I broke down the numbers. And my number kept coming back to three. Things I do all day:
In the morning, I have to:
Get three people dressed
Make three breakfasts, plus dog
Pour two juices and a milk
Tend to three potty/diaper needs
Brush three heads of hair
Brush 2.5 sets of teeth
Do three sets of dishes
Bathe myself
Two days a week, that all has to happen before 8:40am when boys only get up around 8 these days. (not complaining about that part!)
You can probably imagine how the power of three progresses from there, there's just a few additions to that list:
Three people buckled into the car
Three people into the store/school/house
Three noses to suck/wipe/tend
60 finger/toenails to keep tidy
Three heads of hair to cut (not mine, in this case)
6 ears to keep neat and clean
Three coats/hats to put on and take off
Two beds and a crib to make
Of course, there is also making dinner, menus, grocery lists, shopping, appointments, playdates to properly socialize children, and entertainment. This might be easier if one's two year old would watch TV for more than 3 minutes at a time.
Sometimes I stop and look in a mirror and I'm horrified. I have a perma-ponytail because Pigpen is in a grabby-pully stage with hair and earrings. There is always some sort of baby crust on my shirt of the spit up/babyfood/drool variety. If I put make up on, it falls off and never gets reapplied. Chapstick is a luxury item, I usually use either the nipple cream that's been in my purse since the hospital or the Aquaphor that's on the boys' counter for their rough crusty spots. I am such a shlep.
So, that's enough pathetic whining for today. I just wanted to actually assess where my day goes. There you have it.
Today, I broke down the numbers. And my number kept coming back to three. Things I do all day:
In the morning, I have to:
Get three people dressed
Make three breakfasts, plus dog
Pour two juices and a milk
Tend to three potty/diaper needs
Brush three heads of hair
Brush 2.5 sets of teeth
Do three sets of dishes
Bathe myself
Two days a week, that all has to happen before 8:40am when boys only get up around 8 these days. (not complaining about that part!)
You can probably imagine how the power of three progresses from there, there's just a few additions to that list:
Three people buckled into the car
Three people into the store/school/house
Three noses to suck/wipe/tend
60 finger/toenails to keep tidy
Three heads of hair to cut (not mine, in this case)
6 ears to keep neat and clean
Three coats/hats to put on and take off
Two beds and a crib to make
Of course, there is also making dinner, menus, grocery lists, shopping, appointments, playdates to properly socialize children, and entertainment. This might be easier if one's two year old would watch TV for more than 3 minutes at a time.
Sometimes I stop and look in a mirror and I'm horrified. I have a perma-ponytail because Pigpen is in a grabby-pully stage with hair and earrings. There is always some sort of baby crust on my shirt of the spit up/babyfood/drool variety. If I put make up on, it falls off and never gets reapplied. Chapstick is a luxury item, I usually use either the nipple cream that's been in my purse since the hospital or the Aquaphor that's on the boys' counter for their rough crusty spots. I am such a shlep.
So, that's enough pathetic whining for today. I just wanted to actually assess where my day goes. There you have it.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
A photographic review.
After bashing both children's sleeping problems, today I think I'll string together some cuteness. I haven't put any pictures up in a while. This should cover the last month or so.
Piglet is learning to dress himself. Thus far, he's really good at undressing, particularly when he's supposed to be napping, and fairly clever about putting himself through clothing holes. Here, he's featured with the neck of his undershirt stretched around his ample belly.
A concern of mine: Pigpen's striking bald spot. Clearly, I am a rule follower, always putting him to sleep on his back. But look what I've done to his head! The poor child. Plus, his ears don't match. I suspect the crooked one is the body part that was crushing my kidney stone into my bladder wall when I was pregnant, but that's merely a theory.
And....spaghetti night. Need I say more?
Pigpen panics! My forehead is growing an ear, oh no! Sometimes Piglet's enthusiam to show love can be dangerous to Pigpen. He's very aggressively lovey.
And, some sweetness. And a gander at his two teeth.
Piglet is learning to dress himself. Thus far, he's really good at undressing, particularly when he's supposed to be napping, and fairly clever about putting himself through clothing holes. Here, he's featured with the neck of his undershirt stretched around his ample belly.
A concern of mine: Pigpen's striking bald spot. Clearly, I am a rule follower, always putting him to sleep on his back. But look what I've done to his head! The poor child. Plus, his ears don't match. I suspect the crooked one is the body part that was crushing my kidney stone into my bladder wall when I was pregnant, but that's merely a theory.
And....spaghetti night. Need I say more?
Pigpen panics! My forehead is growing an ear, oh no! Sometimes Piglet's enthusiam to show love can be dangerous to Pigpen. He's very aggressively lovey.
And, some sweetness. And a gander at his two teeth.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Why is sleep so easy for me and so hard for babies?
I think my children are punishing me for all of the things that I wrote about other people's children on this blog when I was teaching. I'm pretty sure I still stand by all of those things that I wrote though. My goals and efforts to blog daily just fall apart when I get attacked by things like nap strikes, teething, nasty colds, and growth spurts all at the same time.
Here are my two issues regarding sleep. (And you have to listen because it's rude not to be at least sympathetic even if you don't have kids. I. Want. Your. Pity.) We'll start with the elder Piglet. He's a super duper awesome night sleeper and I've always considered this to be extremely important so I've never complained too much that he didn't nap with great length. But now? At least twice a week now, he decides that he doesn't need a nap. "No nap!" he says firmly and smiles with twinkly eyes. Those days most often coincide with preschool days because he gets so worn out at school that he quickly becomes overtired because his nap is about a half hour later than usual. Overtired is a word I never understood until I had babies. I always thought overtired meant you slept harder. Mwah ah ah ah ah! Pishposh. Rubbish. What it means is that the child gets more and more and MORE revved up and wheeeeeeeeeee! no sleeping in sight. In little ones, they cry hysterically, but toddlers apparently get very, very busy. There are so many things that Piglet does in his room: takes off his clothes, pulls all of his clothes from his drawers and makes a "nest" out of them which he occasionally sleeps in like a bird, walks on his bed, looks out the window and talks to the school bus, etc. The primary problem is that he will do this for 3 hours. "No nap!" he says. What really drives me bonkers is when knowing people tell me he's just ready to give up that nap. Oh, really? Then why does he act like a raving lunatic sobbing hysterical monster at 5:00 on the days he has no nap? Yeah. So, there's that.
Then there's Pigpen. He's a mystery. He goes down for his two naps brilliantly and sleeps on through them like a champ. But at bedtime you'd think we were stabbing him with needles when we put on that sleep sack and put him in his crib. Horrors! He's been put down awake since he was born and can put himself to sleep just fine, but he just gets very easily fried by the end of the day, even with good naps. He's just a kid who has to cry I guess. He sleeps through the night well, as long as there's not teething or illness or growing to do. Which is always lately. Also, he's trying to learn to sit and move around, so I think that's on his mind as well. Rolling over is beneath him. He can do it both ways, but is outrageously offended if you dare put him on his stomach. So the last couple of nights he did great. Now all of a sudden his teeth are all swollen and mean looking and he's angsty again. I went upstairs to give him some Tylenol and a cuddle earlier. His hands were flailing wildly around, so I kissed one as it flew by and somehow wound up with a big gooey booger on my bottom lip.
So that's where I've been. Motherhood is so glamourous.
Here are my two issues regarding sleep. (And you have to listen because it's rude not to be at least sympathetic even if you don't have kids. I. Want. Your. Pity.) We'll start with the elder Piglet. He's a super duper awesome night sleeper and I've always considered this to be extremely important so I've never complained too much that he didn't nap with great length. But now? At least twice a week now, he decides that he doesn't need a nap. "No nap!" he says firmly and smiles with twinkly eyes. Those days most often coincide with preschool days because he gets so worn out at school that he quickly becomes overtired because his nap is about a half hour later than usual. Overtired is a word I never understood until I had babies. I always thought overtired meant you slept harder. Mwah ah ah ah ah! Pishposh. Rubbish. What it means is that the child gets more and more and MORE revved up and wheeeeeeeeeee! no sleeping in sight. In little ones, they cry hysterically, but toddlers apparently get very, very busy. There are so many things that Piglet does in his room: takes off his clothes, pulls all of his clothes from his drawers and makes a "nest" out of them which he occasionally sleeps in like a bird, walks on his bed, looks out the window and talks to the school bus, etc. The primary problem is that he will do this for 3 hours. "No nap!" he says. What really drives me bonkers is when knowing people tell me he's just ready to give up that nap. Oh, really? Then why does he act like a raving lunatic sobbing hysterical monster at 5:00 on the days he has no nap? Yeah. So, there's that.
Then there's Pigpen. He's a mystery. He goes down for his two naps brilliantly and sleeps on through them like a champ. But at bedtime you'd think we were stabbing him with needles when we put on that sleep sack and put him in his crib. Horrors! He's been put down awake since he was born and can put himself to sleep just fine, but he just gets very easily fried by the end of the day, even with good naps. He's just a kid who has to cry I guess. He sleeps through the night well, as long as there's not teething or illness or growing to do. Which is always lately. Also, he's trying to learn to sit and move around, so I think that's on his mind as well. Rolling over is beneath him. He can do it both ways, but is outrageously offended if you dare put him on his stomach. So the last couple of nights he did great. Now all of a sudden his teeth are all swollen and mean looking and he's angsty again. I went upstairs to give him some Tylenol and a cuddle earlier. His hands were flailing wildly around, so I kissed one as it flew by and somehow wound up with a big gooey booger on my bottom lip.
So that's where I've been. Motherhood is so glamourous.
Go there now
Since I wrote on Eddie's blog, I'm not writing here today. So go here to read about her dating sagas. I am detailing each of her boyfriends from my point of view. It's scintillating, I assure you. So go. Go now. And leave a comment. And read the old ones if you've been lazy and not participating because this is taking a lot of hard work for me to beat these old memories out of my hormone-addled brain.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Attention!
Just to state clearly:
It's realtor, not REAL-A-TOR.
While we're on the subject, it's jewelry, not JEWEL-LERY.
That is all.
It's realtor, not REAL-A-TOR.
While we're on the subject, it's jewelry, not JEWEL-LERY.
That is all.
Monday, January 05, 2009
Eight Armed Bandit
Wow. First day in two weeks with both kids all day and preschool doesn't start back until Wednesday. And I believe there's a full moon this weekend, which would explain a lot about Piglet. Well, maybe. He's kind of insane all the time anyway. Here's a sample five minutes with Piglet. And remember that I am holding Pigpen on my hip the whole time.
I enter Piglet's room in the morning to find him completely naked except for a poopy diaper. ("Piglet took off Tractor Soup! [translation: Tractor Suit, his pajamas] All by Piglet's self!") His tractor soup is on the floor and he is racing around his room like a crazy person, pausing at the window each pass to look for the garbage truck.
Placing Pigpen on the bed, I wrestle Piglet out of his diaper and into some sweats, but he refuses his shirt, wanting to be "nay-ed". Whatever. He dashes at the speed of light out of the room while I gather up his poopy diaper and Pigpen. He's gone into Pigpen's room and is climbing up the outside of his crib. He sees me and leaps from the top rail and darts to the rocking chair where he commences rocking like he's trying to fly to the moon. I begin to quickly change Pigpen's diaper and get him dressed. Launching from the chair, Piglet holds his face directly in front of the cool mist humidifier and laughs hysterically. After repeating three times, he knocks the entire contraption onto the floor and water spills everywhere. I resist the urge to smack him heartily and tell him to sit in the chair and not move. He proceeds to remove his sweatpants while I clean up the mess and put the poor ignored Pigpen in the crib.
We finally make it downstairs and he makes a beeline for the two cabinets that I left unlocked the night before when putting away dishes. He presses all the buttons on the blender before chasing Gus around the family room. It's like he has eight arms. He demands juice. He demands cereal. He says he doesn't want juice. Or cereal. He wants fruit snacks and french fries. Pigpen laughs a huge gummy grin at this naked creature that is his brother. If only we could all see him through Pigpen's eyes.
I enter Piglet's room in the morning to find him completely naked except for a poopy diaper. ("Piglet took off Tractor Soup! [translation: Tractor Suit, his pajamas] All by Piglet's self!") His tractor soup is on the floor and he is racing around his room like a crazy person, pausing at the window each pass to look for the garbage truck.
Placing Pigpen on the bed, I wrestle Piglet out of his diaper and into some sweats, but he refuses his shirt, wanting to be "nay-ed". Whatever. He dashes at the speed of light out of the room while I gather up his poopy diaper and Pigpen. He's gone into Pigpen's room and is climbing up the outside of his crib. He sees me and leaps from the top rail and darts to the rocking chair where he commences rocking like he's trying to fly to the moon. I begin to quickly change Pigpen's diaper and get him dressed. Launching from the chair, Piglet holds his face directly in front of the cool mist humidifier and laughs hysterically. After repeating three times, he knocks the entire contraption onto the floor and water spills everywhere. I resist the urge to smack him heartily and tell him to sit in the chair and not move. He proceeds to remove his sweatpants while I clean up the mess and put the poor ignored Pigpen in the crib.
We finally make it downstairs and he makes a beeline for the two cabinets that I left unlocked the night before when putting away dishes. He presses all the buttons on the blender before chasing Gus around the family room. It's like he has eight arms. He demands juice. He demands cereal. He says he doesn't want juice. Or cereal. He wants fruit snacks and french fries. Pigpen laughs a huge gummy grin at this naked creature that is his brother. If only we could all see him through Pigpen's eyes.
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Mr. Facebook
Okay, I'm going to follow up on the Facebook thing because Mr. Pigs says I am publicly making fun of him. (Which is true.) I've made some observations today and I think I know why it's catching my attention so much more than if he, say, signed up for Google Reader or something.
I feel like I'm watching from the same point of view that the high school/college kids have felt as the "adults" took over Facebook. Kind of like you would cringe if, like, your mom was on. Watching Mr. Pigs today as he hee hawed about his friend James being given a restraining order through one of Facebook's applications, I was reminded of when my parents' generation discovered email.
People my parents' age are REALLY into forwards. Like, the forwards you saw 15 years ago when email was new and forwarding was funny. Now what do you do when you get something that says "FW: " at the top? You delete it to avoid scrolling through 4,000 names and email addresses that weren't politely deleted only to get to pictures of dogs in Halloween costumes or the dreaded Snowball Fight from 1999.
Something else that's catching on is this new-fangled thing called "texting". It's not that our elders really want to do it, but they are proud that they know what it is. My favorite moment at my in-laws this Christmas was when I received a text and they said something about their phones didn't do that. There was a pause and my MIL said proudly, "You know texting....ARE YOU THERE? Like the letter "R" and the letter "U" and there?" She laughed uproariously. I did too, but for my own private reasons.
This all brings me back to Mr. Pigs and his new gang of friends on Facebook, which now apparently includes my friend Shea's husband. (Sorry, Shea.) It's just comical to see how excited he is, but in the words of Shea, now where are we supposed to hang out? The comedic aspect is the cringe-worthy kind at best. Just wait until he finds the IM feature. Or figures out how to add 35 applications and starts sending me plants to save the rainforest.
I feel like I'm watching from the same point of view that the high school/college kids have felt as the "adults" took over Facebook. Kind of like you would cringe if, like, your mom was on. Watching Mr. Pigs today as he hee hawed about his friend James being given a restraining order through one of Facebook's applications, I was reminded of when my parents' generation discovered email.
People my parents' age are REALLY into forwards. Like, the forwards you saw 15 years ago when email was new and forwarding was funny. Now what do you do when you get something that says "FW: " at the top? You delete it to avoid scrolling through 4,000 names and email addresses that weren't politely deleted only to get to pictures of dogs in Halloween costumes or the dreaded Snowball Fight from 1999.
Something else that's catching on is this new-fangled thing called "texting". It's not that our elders really want to do it, but they are proud that they know what it is. My favorite moment at my in-laws this Christmas was when I received a text and they said something about their phones didn't do that. There was a pause and my MIL said proudly, "You know texting....ARE YOU THERE? Like the letter "R" and the letter "U" and there?" She laughed uproariously. I did too, but for my own private reasons.
This all brings me back to Mr. Pigs and his new gang of friends on Facebook, which now apparently includes my friend Shea's husband. (Sorry, Shea.) It's just comical to see how excited he is, but in the words of Shea, now where are we supposed to hang out? The comedic aspect is the cringe-worthy kind at best. Just wait until he finds the IM feature. Or figures out how to add 35 applications and starts sending me plants to save the rainforest.
Friday, January 02, 2009
Titles are stupid.
It's kind of annoying when your husband made fun of Facebook for two years, then up and decided to join and now can't get his face out of his, er...book for anything. Can you say hypocrite? I think so. Growl.
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