Partying with Mister Ed

These last couple of weeks have been stressful in the extreme for my sister and her family. In the space of a few days, my three-year-old nephew fell and bonked his head, was diagnosed with having a tumor in his brain, was whisked to surgery, and is now recovering at home. 

It was a blessing in disguise, as the tumor probably wouldn’t have been detected for years, had he not given himself a mild concussion when he fell from the top of their pool table. The surgery was successful, the tumor was benign. It was the best case scenario, if you had to be in that particular scenario. But still. Brain surgery.

It kind of boggles my mind and makes me hug my babies tighter.

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In the middle of all that, my second son turned two. I came thisclose to cancelling his birthday party because it was right after we had heard about nephew’s diagnosis and nobody in the family felt like celebrating anything. But how can you cancel a little kid’s birthday party?

(Can you tell that’s supposed to be Wubbzy on the cake? Oh, and that is ED’s real name, even though we do call him “Mister Ed” around the house a little too often.)

I’m SO glad we didn’t cancel, because ED’s face pretty much looked like this the whole night:

Kind of a mixture of happiness and surprise and a tiny  bit of horror that so much attention was on him. He’s kind of a lone wolf... better in one-on-one situations than with big groups of people. But he truly did have a wonderful party, regardless of the other stuff going on.

Halloween Round-up

OMG. Today.

Today is requiring massive amounts of candy for medicinal value. Today started at 4:30 am (fracking time change).

Anyway…

Baby was an elephant for halloween. I really liked the silky pink ears and softness of the bunting. But the trunk looked really very pen1s-like in real life. I tried to take it off the headpiece and just pass off the outfit as a mouse or something, but it was too firmly attached. Decided just to roll with it instead.

Baby here with her Great-Grandma. Love this picture.

Child 2 dressed as a boxer. I knew he wouldn’t tolerate anything too costume-y so this did the trick. I’m sure he’s pointing to his brother and saying “I want what he has”.

Big brother was dressed as Superman, of course!

Sapped and Sappy

-Is it my imagination, or are things getting harder instead of easier? By the end of the day, I feel like I have been put through the wringer, hit by a Mac truck, and have fought yet another battle in the war that is life with little kids. I retreat wearily to the couch to console myself with Halloween candy and whatever is on the Tivo.

-Preschool is going amazingly well. ONO always seems excited to go, never puts up a fight. He always comes back with some fun artwork to junk up the house hang on the fridge. The hardest part, by a LOOOOONG shot, is little brother ED. He doesn’t understand why big bro is going someplace without him and he has to stay home with boring ol’ Mama. It’s a fight in and out of the car seat and lots of crying. LOUDLY. The boy does not mess around.

-He turns two in about three weeks. However, he’s been acting two for quite a while now. With all of that said, we often do have a good time on the mornings when ONO is at school and the baby is napping and it is just us two. He likes a lot of one-on-one attention that unfortunately is at a premium around here.

- The baby, she has started eating the baby food and the rice cereal. For each of my babies, I have found that their sleeping habits started to change again at around four months (like, sleeping much WORSE), so in desperation I try just about anything to get them back on track. I’ve found each time that introducing solid foods has helped get the nighttime sleeping back. Naps are always a crapshoot, however. I am impressed with other women who can exclusively breastfeed for six whole months without giving baby any solids, because three out of three times now I could not even make it to five months.

If anyone has made it this far (YAWN!) tell me something… what are your kids going to be for Halloween? I’m needing some inspiration.

Chugging Along

I started to write a post about a week ago about how I was FINALLY getting the hang of having three kids. It was such a positive post… really happy… smug, even.

But then… you guessed it! The sickness hit our house and everything fell back into chaos. I am not usually an alarmist at all when it comes to childhood sicknesses, but this time I was calling the pediatrician every five minutes, googling symptoms of H1N1, and generally freaking the eff out. I can’t wait to get back to the days when a fever isn’t the cause of such alarm and worry. Turned out to not even be the flu… swine or ordinary… just your run-of-the-mill fever, cough, snotty nose business.

We even felt well enough to take a trip to see MC’s parents in the Big City this last weekend. On Saturday, we left the boys with the grandparents and took the baby with us to our old college town to  watch a football game. Like always, being home after a long, fun weekend is kind of hard, what with the overwhelming piles of laundry and things that need to be put away, and children cranky because Daddy had to go back to work. For the last two days, I have greeted MC at the door at the end of the day with a terse whisper… I am SO sick of these kids!

I have never had the feeling like I needed to get away as much as I have lately. AWAY, away… to a different town, with no kids, so I can feel a little more adult-like or something. I keep thinking next year, next year…  when I don’t have a baby attached to my boob, and everyone is able to do without mommy for a day or two I will get away. Next year I will be able to do something that I want to do and it will be fun.

Not that THIS isn’t fun. But you know what I mean, right?

My husband doesn’t know…

- that I think really mean thoughts about him and curse his name when he doesn’t take out the garbage and leaves for the day with the can overflowing.

- that whenever something is missing, or is put in a different place in the kitchen, my first instinct is ALWAYS to blame him for it. And (I will admit) that *sometimes* it’s actually my fault. But I still like to silently blame him in my head.

-when the kids are acting up I always blame him. Because he is not there to help discipline, or because it is his damn genetics that make them act this way.

- sometimes I have to try really, really hard to be nice to him at the end of the day. I just want to be cranky and bitchy because the day was long, the children were obnoxious, I never got to take a shower, there is baby puke on my shirt, and my “fat” sweatpants are feeling tight. None of which is actually his fault, per se,  but I want to take it out on him SO BAD.

tiddly bits

*I am still in shock about yesterday’s incident. I guess I am doubly shocked because it was not THAT big of a check. Definitely not enough for someone to comment on or even raise eyebrows about. The whole thing was weird. I wish that I was quicker-witted and would have said something back to her, or have asked to speak to her manager. Now I feel like the moment has passed and I didn’t even take note of her name. I always think of what I should have said hours after the fact and never in enough time to actually say it.

* I am now the proud owner (wearer? vessel?) of a Mirena IUD. In the end, I took the path of least resistance and made an appointment with my OB/GYN, even though he was probably overpriced. I feel really good not having to worry about birth control anymore. Thanks everyone for your helpful input on the situation.

*I finally feel confident enough that we won’t be jinxed if I say out loud that thankfully baby CJ is a good sleeper. I always hate to say things like that about babies, because we all know that they can change in a millisecond. But right now, I can hardly keep the little girl awake. She sleeps ALL night (like last night she had zero wakeups from 7:30 pm till 7:30 this morning), and she takes two or three long naps during the day.

*And I am still so thrilled to the gills to have a little girl. She is my little doll that I can dress up and put things in her hair. Sometimes the only problem is deciding what to dress her in that day! Thanks to the hand-me-downs she’s gotten from her girl cousins, we have lots of options.

*ONO is all ready to start going to preschool next week. In my head, I refer to it as Preschool Lite because he is only going to go two mornings a week. He has never been anywhere without someone in our family with him, so I am a little worried (ok a LOT worried) that it will be tough for him at first. But I think he will really like playing with other little kids that aren’t his little brother. I’m also worried about the drop-off/pick-up situation. Do I also bring in the baby and the toddler? Yikes. The toddler is going to throw a fit when he realizes that his big brother is staying at the place with all the fun toys and he has to leave with mommy. I guess these are just things we will figure out in time…

The Bank Teller Girl and the Big Fat Check

Dear Bank Teller Girl,

Let me put down my cane and arrange my hairpins, for I have a bone to pick with you, young lady.

When a customer comes in to deposit a check, it is best not to loudly state “Wow! How did YOU get so LUCKY to get this BIG FAT CHECK?” I really shouldn’t have to tell you how rude this is. You may have noticed my mouth drop open and my face turn red. I hope you felt stupid, because that was a STUPID thing to say.

The thing is, Bank Teller Girl, (and I’m sure you know this with all of your vast knowledge of banking) that not all Big Fat Checks come from happy situations. My particular Big Fat Check is my inheritance. From my grandparents. Who are dead. I would give every penny back to hug and kiss them one more time and tell them goodbye. No, I didn’t get LUCKY. Thank you for reminding me.

So next time you have the inclination to comment on someone’s deposit (or withdrawal, or account balance, for that matter), just don’t. Please shut your mouth instead. Because it’s none of your damn business.

An Unsatisfied Customer