Om

Yoga was awesome again this morning. I want to do it every day. Hmm - some crazy people do. Even 6 am hot Bikram yoga, like I said I might start doing.

Come to find out, the very same muscles that enable me to toss a 40-lb kid above my head repeatedly and wear both of them at the same time on my back & shoulders while I prance about town have rendered me almost unable to clasp my hands together and lift my arms behind me like this:
Clearly I will need remedial help in the shoulder-stretching department. I would rather look like yoga chick up there than this:


I have no idea how to make my arms loosen up. I'll have to ask my instructor to suggest some poses that I can breathe into in between scraping Play-Doh out of my hair and removing the tractor toy from my thigh. My kids never let me entirely forget they are RIGHT THERE WITH ME in yoga class. Today they convinced all the other toddlers to share their foam yoga blocks and build a barn for Pequita's pink plastic unicorn with the sparkly mane and tail. It was the hit of the yoga studio, as its feet and horn light up when you press a button on it. The other moms near me just breathed into our respective downward dogs and smiled.

I really liked ignoring the kids to the song Navah Shivayah from this album which was played at one point. The heavy drumming makes it easy to drown out all but the most persistent calls for 'Mommy!' I may buy it for motivation to yogify in my own home. The kids liked it as well, and took time out from their play to dance a bit when it came on. A little more yoga and meditation exposure and maybe we'll all be more calm. And perhaps we'll cobble together a 'spiritual practice' that works for us after all; the children already have a favorite Hindu deity, but that is a no-brainer. Ganesha is part elephant, after all.

Triumph

My children are drawn to Triumphs, just like their mum. They wanted to ride in it. Maybe once their college is paid for I'll get the MG of my dreams.

Why oh Why?

Pequita, She Who Must Be Watched as each feat of physical prowess is executed, chatters and sings constantly. I thought this was the most frustrating toddler affectation. I was wrong.
My boy has sadly begun the journey of Why, Mommy?

Where going, Mommy?
Why Buttermilk Park, Mommy?
Why hike, Mommy?
Stella come, Mommy?
Why no Stella, Mommy?
Why colds, Mommy?
Why snot and sneezing, Mommy?
Why germs, Mommy?
Why be quiet, Mommy?
Why irritable, Mommy?
Why headache, Mommy?
Why thumping head on car window, Mommy?

I believe it might be a long year.

Partners

Sadly, they are partners in CRIME. Illicit use of adult scissors.

Pregnancy

Pequita spends a great deal of her time being pregnant, in labor and nursing her new babies. Then they get a taste of real world living and spend hours in time outs for rule infractions.

Yesterday we found a lovely hard plastic unicorn whose hooves and horn light up and make a magic sound when you push a button. I actually bought it to try to help her fend off the wicked witches, monsters and other scary beings that are constantly following her around trying to get in her house/room/car.

Today, the unicorn was in utero for a long time, which can't have been comfortable as it is quite pokey with the hooves and horn and all.



Then, there was an extended labor due to the aforementioned pokey issues.



And the happy Mommy immediately after birth, nursing her new child.


She's a loving kid.

Supervision

The brief interlude of unsupervised children roaming the house is over.

In the beginning, they were potatoes and unable to do anything but poop and cry, and oh! how they worked to perfect their few skills.



Then came the crawling/walking time and gates were closed, rooms were shut off, stairs were guarded, and all small objects were put away.

Recently, we've had a little plateau of development during which we could mostly trust that the established patterns would be followed, there was a lot of ritualization in their daily play and I could do things like stay upstairs for a few minutes while the kids roamed the house because I knew that Monito would be downstairs making a mess with the glass gems and Pequita would be studiously working on her three favorite puzzles.

That is all over. The recent sleep disruptions, shifts in nursing, and massive growth have heralded another new stage and I now cannot trust them at all. They are developing a true ability for subterfuge and sneaky behavior. They like to be read stories about naughty kids, dolls spend most of the day in time outs, and I find the kids hunkered down in cozy secret spots they've carved out in the bottom of a cupboard, created out of a pile of previously clean, folded laundry or covered a corner up with a blanket and made into a fort. I peek in expecting the usual excitement at my presence and get a hand waving in my face and a kid yelling, "No, Mom. Pivacy! Pivacy!" as they try to hide the real or perceived contraband from discovery.

The cookie jar has been breached enough times that it is on an upper shelf in the pantry.

Baby gates are back in regular use so we at least know what part of the house they are in. This morning I came downstairs to this sight.



Monito wanted to watch the Teletubbie DVD, and had found it and was reaching for the DVD player. He had already tried to use the dollhouse as a stool, and the sound of it tumbling over was what brought me downstairs. This is one reason we invested in a massive TV cabinet; I don't like to have a big black TV eye watching us all the time, but also to block it from young kids.

Moment later, I heard him running back and forth repeatedly from living room to kitchen. This always bodes poorly. I peeked in on him and found every single cloth rag in a pile on a mess he made. I cracked up, because he had spilled a tablespoon of milk.


I can invoke the drill sergeant, and I am teaching them to march behind me in line because it amuses me and they think it is fun. Next we'll start sounding off, but that will be another day.

Yoga

I got an email a few weeks ago about a family yoga class starting up and JUMPED at the chance. I joined the YMCA a couple years ago and ended up canceling the membership because the kids wouldn't tolerate the FREE DAYCARE that came with it. I am always trying to find some time for my own thoughts, self-care and brain- and body-improving activities in amongst our busy days of being a family.

We had our first Mom & Tot yoga class this morning. We were actually on time at 9 am downtown; the kids enjoyed their goldfish crackers for breakfast in the car. I had them both dressed in leggings and a t-shirt and at the last minute Pequita disappeared upstairs on some imperative errand. She reappeared having yanked on a purple gymnastics singlet on over her big shirt and leggings and declared it her 'yoga suit'. Oh-kay. Cute as a badly-dressed button.

The kids experienced a bit of trepidation as is there style with new things these days, but our instructor Amy has a young kid of her own and was really warm and friendly. We spent an hour in a safe warm room full of 9 moms and 13 kids from 3 weeks old to 4 years. Amy stressed that the kids will follow along if they want to, and the adults should just to do the yoga. I was able to do about 75% of the class, which was a huge and pleasant surprise. Pequita did several of the poses next to me on her own purple mat; Monito sat on me for many poses but chose not to use his own mat at all except for building a mammoth building with the foam yoga blocks. Nothing like using Mom as a slide while she's in a downward facing dog for exercise. I did the plank pose with 80 lbs of toddler on me. I want a prize, because I held the pose for 8 breaths like that. My prize seems to be that I kept up fairly well and was still pretty limber and strong despite not setting foot in a gym for years.

I was so grateful for the safe, chaotic, toddler-friendly yoga space that I gushed a bit to the instructor and her husband, a fellow instructor, before leaving. It was the attachment-parenting exercise class. I will sign up for every series they offer. I may get fit yet.

Can't get enough

My new love. Kids don't really like it, little heathens. More for me!

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Mom

Sometime in the last two days I have become known as 'Mom'. I started out as Mimi, and that morphed into Mommy. Both kids call me Mom now and I don't register it yet - they end up calling out their mutated version of my given name to get my attention after I've ignored their cries for Mom several times.

I am just not ready for this. It feels like any minute I'm going to start hearing the withering, "Oh, Mom!" with enough attitude to curdle my soul.

Pippi

Pequita and Monito are both in love with "Old Pippi", which means the original Swedish TV series instead of the new Hollywood abomination. We tell Pippi stories and I've learned all 12 verses of the theme song, which I belt out in the car on a regular basis.

I wanted to sew a quilt with patches of Pippi on it for them and can't find any of the fabric in this country, even though I can see things made from it. Then I found the Swedish licensed products - a veritable wealth of all things Pippi. No importing info to America. How annoying that I have a hard time NOT buying my children things with [shudder] Spongebob on them but can't find Pippi who is immeasurably less annoying.

Radiator Love

If I had radiators, I'd have wool covers.  These are too gorgeous. 
http://www.cookiemag.com/magazine/blogs/nesting/2009/09/as-seen-on-lotta-bruhn.html

Making Do

The dog ate my shoe laces. Really. I needed to wear my modified shoes (I have a fused ankle) because we'll be walking all day at the STATE FAIR. The kids are so excited. We are bringing our fab neighbors and Auntie Kiko with us.

No shoelaces to be found in the house so I pilfered the toy chest and came up with a good solution. The strings from the lacing game the kids have are the perfect length. And so jazzy with all the color!

Good News

My hcg levels are down from last week's 300ish to 16. *That* is why I've been feeling more sane and stable. Phew! No more methotrexate!

Alone in a Crowd

I have come out for drinks with my friends - Homestead Mama is sitting in the nursery protecting the kids from 'horns' while they fall asleep. I arrived first and am sitting alone in a nice bar sipping malbec with great music playing and am so profoundly sad. I think that since I'm not meditating much (at all) or in therapy or wallowing in free time, anything I haven't worked through wells up in times where I have extra psychic space. Good, I guess. But sad. I'll have a wonderful time once my friends are here - they are amazing women. But I'm sure the funky lights look lovely reflected in my shining eyes.

Apple Picking

More like apple grazing. We arrived at the orchard hungry, ate our weight in apples, blackberries & raspberries and had nothing in our bags to pay for 2 hours later when we left the orchard except for 6 arguably ripe, partially squashed berries that Monito thoughtfully insisted on bringing home for Mama. We shall serve them to her with cream and a flourish befitting the effort it took for him not to eat them himself.

On a side note, I can't believe I'm still hauling both kids around on my back. They are about 80 lbs combined. In a do-over, we might have chosen a more petite donor. Whoof!

Gewels

Pequita's 'gewels'. The 'J' sound is elusive for both kids. We drink a lot of guice, too.

Pippi

She was asking for Pippi Longstocking hair. I had pipe cleaners. No brainer. She is most impressed with the ability to bend them straight for Pequita hair OR Pippify herself with a simple bend.