Like a Bee to Honey

My father is a technology junkie, a communication addict, a man so tuned in to news, politics and happenings that he barely sleeps.  And now, at my urging, he's joined Facebook.  My mother will never forgive me.

And We're Up!

7:07 am. My boy, he is regular like clockwork.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Oh , Goddess, Shoot Me Now

I'm awake at 2:53 am reading the NY Times on my cell phone and crafting clever FB status updates to counter my boring SAHM chronicles.

Pequita was up with me until 11 I think due to her new phase. Or she is sick, or just jazzed up at being in Canada. Monito keeps waking up and staggering across the room in which we're bunked on the floor to press his dream-stated little body against the closed French doors and reprise Dustin Hoffman's church scene in The Graduate, except crying out his sister's name instead of "Elaine".

I'm fumbling through all this with numb fingers because contorting to keep my son on the boob while sleeping on a mattress on the floor while clutching my Blackberry and typing is, somehow, cutting off the blood supply to my hands.

Whoever said that we mothers can't have / do it all?

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Off to Canada

My beloved friends moved just over the border into Canada several years ago. (This is a sad but common problem in a college town.). We try to see them as much as possible, but this has manifested in once or twice a year, given all the babies/ toddlers in out lives. They were to come here this week, but had to cancel. The need to see them was so great that we are currently on our way up to St. Catharine's for the long weekend. We are all terribly excited.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

First Playground Day

February 9. Not bad for this neck of the woods. It is just warm enough to play.

We sat down for snacks in the back of the car where it was dry. After inhaliing a whole banana, Monito kept repeating something that sounded like 'yayo' which for the life of me I couldn't understand. Pequita looked at me witheringly and said, "Mommy, LOLLY!". Yay! She's bilingual.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Two Hours

In a lifetime, two hours is nothing. To a mother of young kids, it can feel like a week. I have 2 hours of time to myself this morning because Monito has graduated to joining the nursery coop we have going on. I held him back until recently because his nutty developmental phase rendered him volatile and less likely to play well with others. I am sipping earl grey tea in a coffeehouse with music playing and I intend to knit and read the NY Times and maybe call some friends. I am quietly pleased.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Everything Old is New Again

Some new used toys are making two very happy kids.

If you have a kid around 2, run - do not walk - and get a Viewmaster. Pequita carries hers with her everywhere now, even on the changing table. I'm expecting to get some mileage out of these on the long car trips this summer, too.

We also found the Rodie bouncing horse, which they adore and like to sit on while playing, watching a DVD, or eating. Both have bounced vigorously enough to fly off and hit their heads on the coffee table, and now the rule is that Rodie has to be ridden next to the soft couch only.

I remember spending hours playing with Connect 4. Clearly, my kids aren't playing by the rules, but totally love the plink plink of dropping the chips into the slots and then letting them crash to the table. Pequita plays longer than Monito, and once he has stepped away she starts sorting the colors and making patterns with them in the rack.

We also found a chainsaw with batteries that makes a wonderful scary buzzing sound. Monito runs through the house waving it over his head and giggling maniacally like an extra from a slasher film. I was a little surprised that Pequita found a way to enjoy it as well. Her doll Lia was purchased to renew the spark of interest in potty training. Lia has her own batteries, bottle, and potty and she cries to be fed and then to be put on the potty. Pequita LOVES her, and amusingly, frequently doesn't turn her on since it is stressful to have the demands of a baby. No headway on the potty training, though. Lately she's been peeing through her diapers a few times a day, so we're changing her more often than ever and hoping it is a phase of sorts.

Milestone Hell

Monito has figured out how to escape public toilet stalls by crawling under the dividers, dragging his pacifier on the floor the whole way.

I'll never be able to go to the bathroom easily in public again. Dagnabbit.

Baby-free zone

It is official. No more babies here, just toddlers. When we go to the local science museum, they are no longer amused with the blocks, mini-vacuum, or the tame baby water pool. Now, Pequita rushes to the craft table and cuts, glues, and tapes up a storm. Monito watches the big boys and tries to help them make dams in the big water tank, clambering up to perch on the slippery lip of the tank that is 2' off the ground so he can compete for floating toys. They are both wearing size 3 and 4 clothes. Wherever did my babies go?

Pequita Growing Up

Oh me oh my, my daughter brings joy to my life. She is in a very 'big sister' phase in which she loves to help and teach and take care of others. During her brothers recent flu, she was happily on call. She was willing to drop her activity instantly when I called her to help. (So much of a sick toddler is managing vomit spread, so someone needs to hold the puke-covered kid still and comfort them while another brings cleaning supplies.) She gladly grabbed towels and trotted them over to me, or brought her crying brother a toy or cup of water when he cried and crooned 'Buuuubbuuuuh' to him while touching his cheek. Saturday night at around 11 pm H-Mama was downstairs putting our pukey sheets in the laundry and I had to fetch clean jammies for Monito. Pequita was awake with all the hubbub, and we pulled her out of her crib and asked her to sing to her brother and comfort him for a couple minutes. She lay down alongside him, held his hand and sang her favorite song to him, the ABCs. Her version goes like this: O-ayayay, I-ayayay, A-ayayay, I. U-ayayay, O-ayayay, (etc). Monito quieted right down and lay still with her while we cleaned up. I am ever grateful that we have two kids when I see them like this.



Her favorite ASL sign right now is 'I love you', taught to her by Auntie Kiko. It really illustrates this stage for her, which is so filled with love and affection.

Not so much blogging these days, eh? I'm a bit swamped and stressed.

I believe I forgot to post Monito's 18 month stats; one drawback of blogging on my blackberry is that it isn't easy to go back and check old blog posts. Lord knows my memory isn't going to be much help. Chronic sleep deprivation makes it hard to separate intention from actual action.

We went to the new doc, who is still working out just fine. Monito has a little PTSD surrounding medical procedures. Between his sister's blood draws for lead checks, her recent fingers-crushed-in-doorway scream fest and ensuing x-rays, and his own painful venipuncture for lead testing with accompanying crying, he is understandably wary. He tolerates well visits by sitting on my lap as the doc checks him over, but starts crying as soon as he sees vaccination syringes. He is running about dead even with his 8 month older sister, and at 31 lbs and 35" tall he is firmly 95th percentile for his age.

Monito's fun fast-cycling phase is easing up a bit. We go a full hour sometimes without a meltdown. H-Mama and I realized recently that we are regularly expecting too much of him, mostly because of his sheer size and physicality. When we observe him alongside another kid who is 19 months, differences are apparent. He has gotten so much from his older sister and totally keeps up, but the age difference is profound when watching him NOT play nicely and quietly with small motor skills. He is a bashing, crashing, whacking, loud, whiny, mischievous, sweet snuggly boy. He would rather take everything apart, throw it all on the floor, destroy block towers instead of building it up. He is, in a nutshell, a 19 month old boy. He is able to count to 3, sing a version of the alphabet song, carefully pour water or lentils from one pitcher to another. He can turn on the DVD player by himself (we're so proud), dismantle most child-safety locks, and tell a whole involved story in fairly understandable vocabulary mixed with funny pantomime.

It doesn't matter how annoying he gets. His Mama and I are head over heels amazed by him.

Sick. Again.

We had a very nice day yesterday. We brunched and hung out with a family we really enjoy, shopped a bit and then had play time and pizza with another favorite family. More socializing in one day than we usually get in a week.

Monito woke me up at 11 last night to be brought into my bed and then greeted me by throwing up on me. His first real big boy vomit-fest versus a baby's spitting up. We changed the sheets once, but both the sick boy and I had six outfit changes each. And to think, our washer/dryer had been out of order due to a frozen pipe until yesterday morning. Homestead Mama did 4 loads to get us caught up, and in one bonanza of illness Monito blew through almost all the newly fluffy jammies. Thank god for working plumbing. I got almost 4 hours of sleep; we'll see how the day goes.

Early - picture

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Early

7:50 am car appointment. We have great babes, because this meant that we had to actually wake them up. I have moved us to a garage that is downtown in the nice area because it is owned by a woman and is right across the street from a fabulous coffee shop and also the baby consignment store. Games and caffeine - win/win.

We arrived at Gimme Coffee so early that we scored the horseshoe-shaped bench in the front window. People kept arriving dressed in clothing so inappropriate for winter it must be cutting
edge hip. They clutched their laptops as they scoped the cafe for a place in which to hunker down with a big mug of French roast to pretend to work on their thesis while really procrastinating and reading blogs. They actually glared and scowled at us ensconced in the prime real estate, our table covered by child-friendly lukewarm hot chocolate, wet Play Doh molded in the shape of Elmo, and the kids busy quietly (relatively) applying stickers to the vinyl booth and singing
their version of the ABCs. Bugger 'em. We stayed a full 10 minutes longer than we needed to just to wait for a venomous and pinched woman to fully unpack all her accoutrements so she wouldn't want to bother to move to our table when we left. We got to offer our table to a lovely woman swathed in hand knits and wool clutching a year's worth of receipts and statements looking for a place to do her taxes. She told the kids how cute they were, and how her dog shared Pequita's
name.

We dashed into the consignment store for a quick scan of toys and scored a Playmobil pirate ship for my nephew and some super bamboo stacking shapes for us. I'm always trying to replace our plastic stuff with natural materials, I just won't do it for full Haba or Plan price. Later this weekend I'll drop off some of our lesser quality blocks at the donation center in an attempt to keep clutter down.

We then met up with our friends at the science museum and played HARD for a couple hours until Monito was so beligerent and defiant I couldn't ignore how tired the kids were. We're now parked outside the nursery that we'll go but a big ficus in once they awake from their nap. We still have our Christmas tree up, and as much as I'd like to say it is because we don't have time to take it down, it is just that we so love the twinkle lit tree in the corner of the living room at night. Our new ficus will fill the void, since the pine needles are starting to really pile up.

A really good morning, all around. The only dark spot is the $300 part we'll need for the car next week.

Dizzy

The kids are a little young for mind-altering states, but surely do love to spin and spin until they fall down.

I offer for your viewing pleasure a video that maybe only my mother will enjoy, but here is how we spend our afternoons when playing with puzzles, clay and quieter work has become impossible. They prefer ABBA to all other music - they are my babies, after all - but the Waterboys will do in a pinch.