email to my parents

Dear Mom and Dad,

I wish you were awake so I could call you both and chat. I am awake; it is 12:41 am and Monito has just fallen asleep after throwing up vigorously at 11pm. He is asleep now, but I am loathe to bring him up to bed so he can throw up there, too, so I am watching Cosby Show reruns and biding my time. I reek of puke. Pequita is due to wake up in the next little bit and want to be nursed back to sleep in my bed by Homestead Mama, and H-Mama is at her dad's until sometime tomorrow. I'm not sure how to get the day's worth of food Monito just upchucked out of the wool living room carpet, and I KNOW he'll throw up more soon in my bed. Sigh. It would be nice to commiserate now over the phone, or better yet know that you could pop over tomorrow and sit with them while I get a nap, since I will most certainly be tired. I can't wait until you have some kind of home nearby. It is not ONLY a selfish desire; the kids talk of you daily and crave your presence even more than I do.

Every day of being a mom makes me more aware that you guys did a great job with us, and I know it wasn't easy. You both had a lot going on in your own lives with which to keep up. I am grateful for all that you DID do, and still do. I appreciate your willingness, acceptance, and love. And I am grateful that you will make time in your day - any time - to talk over speakerphone to me about parenting and all its foibles and the kids about their potty escapades and successes; it means the world to [me] them.

I love you, and miss you every day that you aren't here.

Homestead Mom

And Then...

Right outside the doc's office was this. I will never have a difficult time getting the kids to come to the docs with me. Backhoes and a mall with a carousel only a couple miles away - heaven on earth.

(No) Thanks For The Memories

Here we are, sitting in the crappy overflow exam room at the docs waiting for the dildo cam, or 'po-po x-ray' as we call it in front of the kids. The very same room that about 3 years ago to the month I found out that I had miscarried twins. Good times. My whole soul cringed as we were ushered into THIS room - amazing how the memories take over. Nice to have the kids here to help heal that piece of my mind.

Great Plans in the Works

I want to make my own cheese, then make my own pizza. I'll let you know if I find the time.

Enjoy the blog this is lifted from, though, it is in my regular reading rotation these days - I'm really enjoying it.

Overload

Boy, it has been an intense week. Both kids are really pushing
boundaries, testing authority (mine) and developing in leaps and
bounds. There is a lot of screaming that is inconsolable; mostly this
starts when Pequita is foiled in some way, or - god help me - I HELP
her when she wants to do something by herself. Once she is wailing
with tears streaming, snot bubbling, body stiff and uncuddleable, then
Monito decides that he is also stressed and joins in the festivities,
matching his sister in volume and vigor. If Monito starts the cycle,
then his sister chimes in after a while. Ack.

To their credit, they *mostly* save the really good tantrums for the
house. I like to think that they feel safe there and can relax into
the morass of feelings that must be swirling through their brains in
times of meltdown. I do give them space to feel all their rage and
frustration, to make a lot of noise and express themselves in whatever
way they need to, but have also created a time line so that this
doesn't keep going. We have a house rule now that they are allowed
to carry on for a little while in the general population, but if they
can't pull it together pretty quickly AND refuse any help/ comfort,
then they have to go upstairs and finish their fit in their room. This
generally is pretty unpopular and brings on a hastened end to the
episode. Monito hasn't ever been escorted upstairs, but Pequita has
had a few trips to solitary. Usually she is sniffling and calling to
me from the top stair within 3 minutes. I want to point out that the
refusal to accept any comfort is the key to being sent upstairs- I
feel awful and punitive sending them away from me and I hate to do it,
but when they are really over the top they are typically biting and
hitting too, and I can't let them do that to me and their sibling. I
guess this is the part of parenting that is hard now but pays off?
The part that parents of kids who end up on "Super Nanny" can't bring
themselves to do and end up creating little tyrants and monsters? It
makes me feel like a bad parent, wrong, lonely, punitive and just
generally unpleasant all around. It is the thing that makes me doubt
myself more than anything.

EXCEPT for the spanking. Whoops! Did I just say that? Yup, I've gone
there. Monito is the only recipient of this little 'correction'
technique of which I am so ashamed. A couple times for running right
into moving traffic, scaring the bejebus out of me and the oncoming
driver and then laughing. I know he isn't laughing because he thinks
its funny; he probably doesn't know what to think or do. And I imagine
the level of excitement I am exhibiting is overwhelming to him. BUT it
can't happen. Pequita is not a darter-into-traffic, or the
what-else-can-I-stick-into-the-electrical-outlet kid, Monito is. Last
night I spanked him because he climbed on the table and knocked over
the $400 stained glass lamp* that he knows is off limits. I heard it,
walked into the living room and asked what had happened, and both kids
pointed to Monito; I lost it. In my limited defense, I've been a solo
parent for much of the last 5 days with no break or help. Homestead
Mama's grandma had a stroke last week and H-Mama has spent three of
the last five days hours away spending time with Lillian as she slips
away, either staying away overnight or not returning until after we
are all asleep. This is as it should be, but I've been a little thinly
stretched at times. After the lamp incident, later in bed while
snuggling and reading books, I talked about it with the kids and
apologized for getting so angry and losing control, but I still wish I
could have a do-over. I was up at 6:30 this morning and got to see my
beloved as she was leaving for work, and she pointed out, gently, that
since he owned up to the naughty act it may have been better to talk
it out and not punish the honesty. Duh. That didn't even occur to me
at the time.

My parents are arriving tomorrow for the long weekend, and I'll get a
respite. I've also arranged for a friend to start babysitting once or
twice a week starting tomorrow morning at 8am so I can clean a bit
before my parents arrive. We'll see how it goes.

--
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Tweet tweet

Can you let me know if you read and you twitter?  I just joined with even more trepidation than with Facebook.  I'll tell you my login if you tell me yours...

Cupcake

Pequita is getting better at sentences. Why, just this afternoon I said, "Ok, kids, time to pack up our healthy whole wheat snacks and go the playground" and she remarked, "Mommy, not all done finish cup cake yet".
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Ho Ho Ho

We are so lucky. Not only was Santa still there, but he had been joined by his buddy the Easter Bunny. She lights up too.
I also found a nice sturdy stool to use for teeth brushing. The kids have been perfecting their body checking skills to jockey for space on the single stool we have. Now maybe we'll have more peaceful brushing.

Oh, I can't wait for the next holiday.
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Siesta (part deux)

All right. Behold the annoying one in all his face-stuffing glory.

We are parked outside of the thrift store because yesterday I declined to purchase a 4' high plastic Santa that plugs in and glows. Monito spent 15 minutes hugging him, patting the toy horse in the toy bag and exclaiming "Santa!". It wasn't until I got home and Homestead Mama had a similar response that I realized the size of my gaff. When the elder child wakes from her nap we'll go back in and see if any other sucker plunked down their $5.99 for Santa before us. I'm taking this time to quietly mourn the loss of good taste at the Homestead.
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Siesta

Angelic, no? Looking at my sleeping babies cracks my heart with love, longing, hopes, amazement, gratitude.

We'll not mention the other one who is right now NOT sleeping after 45 minutes of nap but is instead stuffing his face with cheese, cucumber spears and strips if hotdog that I must first peel for him. (That is real love).
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Zoomah Love

My new car just got 28.6 mpg in a mix of around-town and lite highway driving. With intermittant a/c use AND sitting in the parked but running car for a few hours to keep napping toddlers napping. I love it!
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Emotional Project

I am on day 3 of this bad cold, the kids are on day 1.5 or so; H-Mama
hasn't gotten it yet. Sometimes she misses these things entirely, but
usually we eventually drag her down into the bacteria soup in which we
stay-at-homes wallow.

Last night we found out she got a good raise, and through odd events
in upper-upper management, a good shot at a promotion into her bosses
job right in her current office. The tidy part of my brain would like
to point out that her raise more than pays for our new monthly life
insurance bill, which is lovely. So we celebrated with a nice pasta in
homemade red sauce with meatballs from the freezer, a bottle of
Vaqueyras and a rebellious bit of movie watching that had us up until
almost 1 am. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Pequita woke up at 1:30 and was
hungry. I took her down stairs for some leftovers, and she wanted to
work on her new 'school work' books* I just bought her. For almost 2
hours. She and I didn't fall back to sleep until around 4:30. Monito
was up at his usual 7am, but deigned to watch Curious George on DVR
for over an hour while I lolled on the couch half comatose. I think he
really liked having me topless and in a stupor - play, nurse, play,
nurse, snuggle, repeat. I just woke up** from a 2 hour nap*** with
both kids still sleeping soundly alongside me to the faint melodious
and much maligned sound of the rider mower doing its thing under
H-Mama's guidance in our yard. Our nap gave her enough time to get the
spring tune-up done, filters cleaned out, gas changed, tires pumped up
and ready for action. Spring always comes too fast to get the mower
ready before it is time for the first mow - this year, that day was
today and she's getting it done. I am so pleased! I love a tidy yard
and I'd like to point out how much easier it is to scoop poop from
short grass. 'Nuff said.

*Pre-K workbooks I saw at the bookstore when I wasn't finding any
gay-themed books. They are full of simple picture matching, rhyming
words, and letter/ number activities, with some sticker fun thrown in.
She absolutely loves them. I didn't really know how ready she was for
workbooks! Aside from crippling exhaustion, I really enjoyed spending
some quiet time alone with her.

**have I mentioned that I love my smart phone with unlimited internet?
I blog mostly from it in stolen moments.

***Pequita woke up as usual after the first hour snuffling for the
boob like a truffle-trained pig. As she latched on I patted her
lovingly on the butt only to realize that we let her come to nap on
our bed in panties, not a diaper. She is only mildly potty-trained,
and sleep is not a controlled time. I yanked her out of bed, had a
pull-up on her and was back to nursing in bed before she could even
work up a proper cry.

Update of the post that won't end: we are now cresting the third hour
of nap; it is 3:45. Pequita just awoke, nursed for a few minutes on
each boob and sat straight up asking for Mama. I pointed to my ear and
then the backyard and waited or her response. (We've been working on
the senses, and when the kids hear something now they touch their ear
and name it. When they see something they usually say 'I 'py' because
we play the I Spy game constantly). Pequita listened, put together all
the info in her brain and said "Mama mow-mow eh yahd! My-ah mow-mow
too!". (My-ah fills in for me, mine, and I for both kids. 'Eh'
represents most prepositions, like in, on, and, etc.). So I got her
shoes on, showed her H-Mama out the back window and sent my big girl
downstairs to let herself out of the house to mow with her beloved
Mama. I watched, smiling, from the window seat in the master bedroom
as she strode across the yard and positioned her tiny body in the path
of the mower, as H-Mama stopped the machine and got the extra ear
protection for Pequita, and as they got back on together. I am back in
bed alongside still-sleeping Monito. It is highly unusual for him to
sleep the night really well and then sleep for 3 hours and 15 minutes
(and counting) during his nap. He is sick, but maybe he's got his own
little emotional project brewing.

If / when he wakes up, we'll go down and plant stage 3 of Project
Privacy, another 3 3' high holly shrubs I bought at the garden store
to continue to fill in our hedge along the busier road. I can't wait
until they are 6' tall.

Final update: he woke after 3.5 hours. A new record.

--
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Author, Author

As soon as we graduated from super simple baby books it became obvious that there was a serious problem. So many books about straight families, and most of the few LGBT friendly books out there are so do-goody that they are saccharine. (Can anyone make recommendations otherwise?). If ANY of the dads are even vaguely gender neutral, metro sexual, or - easiest of all - animals, then I make them female and voila, a lesbian family structure for my kids to relax into and identify with. (Goldilocks and the Lesbian Bears is a regular on our bedtime story list.)

Yesterday Pequita brought me the only book in the food coop play area, about Father's Day. Luckily, the little bunny selected plants and yard tools as presents for his bunny dad, and it was easy to transpose the pronouns into Mommy and Mama. But I had to think hard with a sick headachey brain, and I stumbled several times, and sheesh, how annoying.

I have grown weary of having to track the kid's books closely as I read them to carefully make sure we are represented alongside the dads. We have lots of gay friends with kids, so the kids see families like their own, but I want more fiction books for them. So I decided to write them and self publish them. I guess they'll be about our exact family structure, and maybe I'll even illustrate them. My sister and mom are both excellent artists, so maybe I can wrangle one of them to help. Maybe I'll even sell the books if they end up having appeal to anyone other than our family. But for right now, we just need some books about a sister and brother with two moms. And maybe a dog named Cosmo.

Safety Net

Around Christmastime I realized that if Homestead Mama met an untimely demise, I'd be jobless in a recession with no huge stock portfolio or trust fund with which to support my kids in the manner to which they have become accustomed. They may love the Zoom-ah Cah (Mazda in Monito-speak) but after living in it for a few weeks they would likely have tired of it. So we signed up for life insurance for us both. I am actually sleeping better because of this. It was overdue by about 3 years.

Urban Living

We spent 7 hours downtown yesterday in the stroller whilst the Volvo got new brakes. Quite the shift from weeks at home. Monito timed out of every place we went, causing us to leave quickly due to misbehavior; this caused him to scream. Leaving each place she was so calmly enjoying - the diner, the kid consignment store, the food coop play area, the coffee house, the playground - because of her brother's naughtiness caused Pequita to scream and cry. We made quite the picture of familial bliss about town. I can tell who has children by who smiled at me empathetically and who sneered at my loud snot-covered family.



I totally take credit for the fact that my kids nap at the same time every day, whether at home, in the car, or in the stroller. I chalk this up to the fact that I feel a special sort of panic when one is rested and the other isn't. It is virtually impossible for an afternoon and evening to go well with uneven naps. Co-napping is a manufactured occurrence that is based on a proprietary blend of white noise, nursing, pacifiers, pretzels, singing, threats, very close observation and timing. I would totally medal in a synchronized sleeping event if one existed.