When Eddie is visiting, no one is safe from her corny, corny jokes. But it's sad when the two year old catches on faster than daddy.
Eddie: Knock knock!
Mr. Pigs: [rolls eyes] Who's there?
Eddie: I eat mop!
Mr. Pigs: I eat mop who?
Eddie: [brimming with hysteria]
Mr. Pigs: I eat mop who? Huh? I eat mop who?
Me: [gasping for air from hysterics]
Mr. Pigs: I eat mop who?!
Piglet: DADDY EATS HIS POO!!!
Monday, March 30, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Massive Head Wound Harry
Something about rain just makes my days worse. I wish I could look on the bright side and find fun things about rain, and I even tried to make that happen today, but alas. It's only 2:00 and we've got a double head wound, a broken lamp, and a lot of puke. I'm soothing my soul with a grilled cheese and a bowl of tomato soup. Comfort food anyone?
This morning really began at midnight. For some reason, likely hormonal since Pigpen dropped a big feeding, I have developed bedtime insomnia. I can be sleepy all day long and into the evening, but as soon as I get in bed my heart starts racing and I can't sleep. So the last few nights I've taken Benadryl to help get through this weird sleep patch. Around midnight, the drugs finally began to make me feel sleepy when I heard it: the hacking cough of a child in distress. It was of course Piglet and his asthmatic self. I had forgotten his inhalers before bedtime. I ignored it for as long as possible until the guilt kicked in, then went to administer the meds. They didn't work. He continued to cough until closer to one. I'm now bleary from Benadryl and sent Mr. Pigs upstairs to give him water and honey. He obliged and the coughing stopped.
I slept until 6:15 when Pigpen decided it was time to start his day. Now, most days, he wakes up around the time Mr. Pigs leaves and cries for a bit then goes back to sleep. This morning, he cried for an HOUR and didn't do any such thing. I went to get him, fed him in my bed and Voila! he goes to sleep in my bed. Snoring like a buzzsaw. I will never understand how people sleep with their children in the bed. Theirs must not be as noisy as mine.
Then of course Piglet wakes up."MOMMY! Piglet wants Mommy riiiiiiiiiight NOOOOWWWWWW!" Good morning, sunshine. I roused the helicopter that was churning in my bed and dragged him upstairs for morning poop changes. Nothing really starts a day as well as two goopy sat-upon poop diapers. Retch. "Piglet has poop, mommy! Change Piglet's diaper right now!" Right now is a very big thing in our house currently. I tried not to gag as I got everyone a clean bottom.
Breakfast lasted for-freaking-ever as Pigpen gnawed his way through a bowl of oatmeal, a banana, some Cheerios, and a piece of toast. Oh, and juice. He's in the 1st percentile in weight (16 pounds at 9 months), so if anyone has any suggestions for high calorie foods, I'll take them. He eats at least that much at every meal and only has 6 teeth. Piglet of course wanted down "right now" as soon as his second bowl of cereal disappeared. I ate coffee and vitamins and whatever scraps I could wrestle away from Pigpen.
Pigpen and his bloated belly went down for nap while I went to take a shower. Piglet wanted to watch Bob the Builder for the 374th time which he did for about 5 minutes. Then he decided to plug in the vacuum, turn off the power strip to my alarm clock, and pull all of the parts of my breast pump out of the bag. He placed one of the cups over his mouth and yelled, “Mask! Piglet has a mask!” He then pretended it was a tuba and made tuba sounds for the remainder of my shower. I somehow got ready for the day. Well, I pulled on sweatpants and brushed my teeth. That’s really all I can hope for on a day like today.
We threw in a load of laundry and included Piglet’s froggy which stunk to high heaven from him gnawing on its arms when he was teething his molars. REEKED. I convinced him that Froggy wanted to go swimming in the washing machine and tossed him in. Piglet then decided to swim himself….on my couch. He swam his arms and kicked his legs and WOOSH! My lamp fell off the table and crashed to the floor. It no longer works.
We somehow survived the morning, Pigpen puking everytime Piglet squeezed his stomach, Gus racing around frantically trying to lick up all the puke off the floor and the baby. At last, Gus wanted to go outside (in the pouring rain) to dig a large hole in a pile of wet leaves for half an hour or so. The boys ate lunch (crackers with butter, a jar of peas, 4 peach slices, and half a stick of string cheese for Pigpen, topped off with 2 spoonfuls of sweetened condensed milk, in case you’re tracking his eating habits) and I ate a yogurt to get me through.
Piglet went to bed. He still refuses to nap in his bed, so the rule is that when he gets out of bed he goes into the cave. Please don’t report me to CPS, it’s perfectly safe and warm, just barren of fun. Instead of getting out of his bed today, he decided to romp around on his bed and of course fall and bashed his head onto the headboard. He managed to get not one, but two, giant goose eggs on his forehead which required ice and kisses. Then to the cave. Pigpen puked on the steps on his way up to bed, then fell instantly to sleep….my good baby. My happy puker. Piglet at last fell asleep when of course the dog began to howl incessantly in the rain-soaked yard.
I came downstairs to find Gus drenched and desperately scratching his muddy paws on the back door. He required everything but a full bath to be allowed in the house. I dashed out in the rain to bring in the trash cans to find my newspaper had washed down the street and my recycle can contained about 3 inches of water that I couldn’t empty. Awesome. And that brings us to now.
You’d think it was Tuesday or something.
This morning really began at midnight. For some reason, likely hormonal since Pigpen dropped a big feeding, I have developed bedtime insomnia. I can be sleepy all day long and into the evening, but as soon as I get in bed my heart starts racing and I can't sleep. So the last few nights I've taken Benadryl to help get through this weird sleep patch. Around midnight, the drugs finally began to make me feel sleepy when I heard it: the hacking cough of a child in distress. It was of course Piglet and his asthmatic self. I had forgotten his inhalers before bedtime. I ignored it for as long as possible until the guilt kicked in, then went to administer the meds. They didn't work. He continued to cough until closer to one. I'm now bleary from Benadryl and sent Mr. Pigs upstairs to give him water and honey. He obliged and the coughing stopped.
I slept until 6:15 when Pigpen decided it was time to start his day. Now, most days, he wakes up around the time Mr. Pigs leaves and cries for a bit then goes back to sleep. This morning, he cried for an HOUR and didn't do any such thing. I went to get him, fed him in my bed and Voila! he goes to sleep in my bed. Snoring like a buzzsaw. I will never understand how people sleep with their children in the bed. Theirs must not be as noisy as mine.
Then of course Piglet wakes up."MOMMY! Piglet wants Mommy riiiiiiiiiight NOOOOWWWWWW!" Good morning, sunshine. I roused the helicopter that was churning in my bed and dragged him upstairs for morning poop changes. Nothing really starts a day as well as two goopy sat-upon poop diapers. Retch. "Piglet has poop, mommy! Change Piglet's diaper right now!" Right now is a very big thing in our house currently. I tried not to gag as I got everyone a clean bottom.
Breakfast lasted for-freaking-ever as Pigpen gnawed his way through a bowl of oatmeal, a banana, some Cheerios, and a piece of toast. Oh, and juice. He's in the 1st percentile in weight (16 pounds at 9 months), so if anyone has any suggestions for high calorie foods, I'll take them. He eats at least that much at every meal and only has 6 teeth. Piglet of course wanted down "right now" as soon as his second bowl of cereal disappeared. I ate coffee and vitamins and whatever scraps I could wrestle away from Pigpen.
Pigpen and his bloated belly went down for nap while I went to take a shower. Piglet wanted to watch Bob the Builder for the 374th time which he did for about 5 minutes. Then he decided to plug in the vacuum, turn off the power strip to my alarm clock, and pull all of the parts of my breast pump out of the bag. He placed one of the cups over his mouth and yelled, “Mask! Piglet has a mask!” He then pretended it was a tuba and made tuba sounds for the remainder of my shower. I somehow got ready for the day. Well, I pulled on sweatpants and brushed my teeth. That’s really all I can hope for on a day like today.
We threw in a load of laundry and included Piglet’s froggy which stunk to high heaven from him gnawing on its arms when he was teething his molars. REEKED. I convinced him that Froggy wanted to go swimming in the washing machine and tossed him in. Piglet then decided to swim himself….on my couch. He swam his arms and kicked his legs and WOOSH! My lamp fell off the table and crashed to the floor. It no longer works.
We somehow survived the morning, Pigpen puking everytime Piglet squeezed his stomach, Gus racing around frantically trying to lick up all the puke off the floor and the baby. At last, Gus wanted to go outside (in the pouring rain) to dig a large hole in a pile of wet leaves for half an hour or so. The boys ate lunch (crackers with butter, a jar of peas, 4 peach slices, and half a stick of string cheese for Pigpen, topped off with 2 spoonfuls of sweetened condensed milk, in case you’re tracking his eating habits) and I ate a yogurt to get me through.
Piglet went to bed. He still refuses to nap in his bed, so the rule is that when he gets out of bed he goes into the cave. Please don’t report me to CPS, it’s perfectly safe and warm, just barren of fun. Instead of getting out of his bed today, he decided to romp around on his bed and of course fall and bashed his head onto the headboard. He managed to get not one, but two, giant goose eggs on his forehead which required ice and kisses. Then to the cave. Pigpen puked on the steps on his way up to bed, then fell instantly to sleep….my good baby. My happy puker. Piglet at last fell asleep when of course the dog began to howl incessantly in the rain-soaked yard.
I came downstairs to find Gus drenched and desperately scratching his muddy paws on the back door. He required everything but a full bath to be allowed in the house. I dashed out in the rain to bring in the trash cans to find my newspaper had washed down the street and my recycle can contained about 3 inches of water that I couldn’t empty. Awesome. And that brings us to now.
You’d think it was Tuesday or something.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Update much?
Seriously? I haven't blogged since February? This is outrageous. Every day I think of things to blog about. Sometimes I even write them down. I have the best intentions, but something has gone dreadfully wrong with my productivity in the blogging department. I ought to write more, for no other reason than it clears my head and relaxes me. Alas, I have too much going on.
There are two times a day during which I could potentially blog: nap and after 7:30. Nap of late has been a disaster. I remember being pretty obnoxious as a teenager, but I'm pretty sure that nothing compares to the irrational, unreasonable two year old. He is alternately sweet and hilarious, then angry and rebellious, pushing every limit he knows. It's a delight really.
Maybe I should talk about some of the good stuff. No, no....that's not how I work, y'all know me better than that. I'll start with the ugly. The main thing that's (still) driving me completely insane is nap. All I want him to do is nap in his bed. Is that really so much to ask? Apparently so. I've tried putting him to bed later, putting him to bed earlier, threatening to take things away, bribing him, ignoring him completely, marveling over his genius when he does sleep in the bed, and, of course, begging shamefully. None of this works. Nada. My latest trick of giving him a couple pieces of the (100 piece) train set when he naps in bed has been the most effective, at best a 50% success rate.
People without children or with perfect children who nap properly like to tell me that he's ready to give up that nap. Oh really? Then why does he sleep TWO HOURS on the days that he does nap? And why is he a complete train wreck when he does not? Hmmmm? I thought so. So don't you dare say that in the comments, or I'll...I'll....um, tell you that you're wrong. So there.
Also causing problems, but not nearly as severe, is the sudden possessiveness of toys. Piglet's going to have to learn that all toys in a house with two boys only 20 months apart are going to be community property. He is in great distress that his brother Pigpen is suddenly interested in toys. But he loves his brother so....
I'll move onto the good stuff. Piglet is a talker. I have no idea where he could possibly get this trait. He talks when he wakes up, he talks while he's eating, he talks in the car, he talks, talks, talks, all day long. The house is never quiet. Pigpen, as a result, is already trying to talk at 9 months, thus far managing "mama" and "dada", though I doubt they have much meaning to him. It's noisy around here.
Pigpen is very interested in being precise. "Eat your salad!" I say. "First," he clarifies. "Yes, first." I'm not sure what he thinks is coming next, but he's very into "first" right now. He's very specific. If I say that we're going to Target, he says, "And Piglet? And Pigpen? And Mommy? Daddy's at work." and nods solemnly to seal the deal. He wants to know who belongs to what and what belongs to whom. He specifically wants to know what is his. He believes everything is his, but is trying to get order straight in his mind.
He loves Pigpen to pieces, so much that he's generally squashing him or squeezing him or gifting him with something random, like the socks and shoes off of his feet everytime we're in the car. He sings songs in a sweet, tuneless way, especially his ABC's minus the W. He likes to count things, but when he gets to 12 he gets confused and starts back at 8, occasionally jumping ahead to 14 and just saying 14 over and over again. His hero is Thomas, but his favorite is Emily. He demands that I sing the Emily song from Thomas, but that I substitute his girlfriend's name. The line goes, "There's no one else like Emily!" and he sings it over and over again with his girlfriend's name. If I sing the theme to Elmo's world, I have to sing it with Pigpen's name. It's all very confusing and noisy and loud around our house, and there is a great deal of song.
Maybe this is why Pigpen wants to do things so badly. He's been sitting up for quite a while now, but due to safety concerns, he's never had the amount of floor time to which he's entitled. If he's developmentally delayed, it will be Piglet's fault for being such a danger to him. He wants to crawl in a bad way, but can't figure out what to do with his knees, so he just cries instead. Pigpen has the best laugh I've ever heard. I have yet to encounter someone who doesn't laugh when he does, it's rather contagious.
Pigpen is also the best sleeper ever. He puts himself to sleep and actually seems rather relieved to find himself in his crib at bedtime. He sleeps all night long and wakes up happy in the morning and after naps. At this age, Piglet had dropped his morning nap, but Pigpen is still going strong at an hour and a half, so I don't see that happening anytime soon.
There are two times a day during which I could potentially blog: nap and after 7:30. Nap of late has been a disaster. I remember being pretty obnoxious as a teenager, but I'm pretty sure that nothing compares to the irrational, unreasonable two year old. He is alternately sweet and hilarious, then angry and rebellious, pushing every limit he knows. It's a delight really.
Maybe I should talk about some of the good stuff. No, no....that's not how I work, y'all know me better than that. I'll start with the ugly. The main thing that's (still) driving me completely insane is nap. All I want him to do is nap in his bed. Is that really so much to ask? Apparently so. I've tried putting him to bed later, putting him to bed earlier, threatening to take things away, bribing him, ignoring him completely, marveling over his genius when he does sleep in the bed, and, of course, begging shamefully. None of this works. Nada. My latest trick of giving him a couple pieces of the (100 piece) train set when he naps in bed has been the most effective, at best a 50% success rate.
People without children or with perfect children who nap properly like to tell me that he's ready to give up that nap. Oh really? Then why does he sleep TWO HOURS on the days that he does nap? And why is he a complete train wreck when he does not? Hmmmm? I thought so. So don't you dare say that in the comments, or I'll...I'll....um, tell you that you're wrong. So there.
Also causing problems, but not nearly as severe, is the sudden possessiveness of toys. Piglet's going to have to learn that all toys in a house with two boys only 20 months apart are going to be community property. He is in great distress that his brother Pigpen is suddenly interested in toys. But he loves his brother so....
I'll move onto the good stuff. Piglet is a talker. I have no idea where he could possibly get this trait. He talks when he wakes up, he talks while he's eating, he talks in the car, he talks, talks, talks, all day long. The house is never quiet. Pigpen, as a result, is already trying to talk at 9 months, thus far managing "mama" and "dada", though I doubt they have much meaning to him. It's noisy around here.
Pigpen is very interested in being precise. "Eat your salad!" I say. "First," he clarifies. "Yes, first." I'm not sure what he thinks is coming next, but he's very into "first" right now. He's very specific. If I say that we're going to Target, he says, "And Piglet? And Pigpen? And Mommy? Daddy's at work." and nods solemnly to seal the deal. He wants to know who belongs to what and what belongs to whom. He specifically wants to know what is his. He believes everything is his, but is trying to get order straight in his mind.
He loves Pigpen to pieces, so much that he's generally squashing him or squeezing him or gifting him with something random, like the socks and shoes off of his feet everytime we're in the car. He sings songs in a sweet, tuneless way, especially his ABC's minus the W. He likes to count things, but when he gets to 12 he gets confused and starts back at 8, occasionally jumping ahead to 14 and just saying 14 over and over again. His hero is Thomas, but his favorite is Emily. He demands that I sing the Emily song from Thomas, but that I substitute his girlfriend's name. The line goes, "There's no one else like Emily!" and he sings it over and over again with his girlfriend's name. If I sing the theme to Elmo's world, I have to sing it with Pigpen's name. It's all very confusing and noisy and loud around our house, and there is a great deal of song.
Maybe this is why Pigpen wants to do things so badly. He's been sitting up for quite a while now, but due to safety concerns, he's never had the amount of floor time to which he's entitled. If he's developmentally delayed, it will be Piglet's fault for being such a danger to him. He wants to crawl in a bad way, but can't figure out what to do with his knees, so he just cries instead. Pigpen has the best laugh I've ever heard. I have yet to encounter someone who doesn't laugh when he does, it's rather contagious.
Pigpen is also the best sleeper ever. He puts himself to sleep and actually seems rather relieved to find himself in his crib at bedtime. He sleeps all night long and wakes up happy in the morning and after naps. At this age, Piglet had dropped his morning nap, but Pigpen is still going strong at an hour and a half, so I don't see that happening anytime soon.
Ahhhh. That feels better. As though I've purged myself of thoughts. Whew. Let's try to do this more often, shall we?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
