Spoiled

I am totally and completely and fantastically spoiled. My family was beyond generous for Christmas and my birthday. So far beyond generous it's like a star that you can't really tell if you are seeing a star or if your eyes are just making it up. They rule. My family rules..not the weird maybe-possibly-could-be-a-star stars.

And then last night, the girls bought me delicious coconut drinks and I came home to an absolutely absurd amount of king crab legs. All to be topped off with a tres leches cake...which Kari, Brent, Travis and I didn't even cut pieces out of. We just put the cake in the middle, each grabbed fork, and ate until we were literally sick. And had just one more bite for good measure.

It was glorious.

18 Months

The beast had his check-up and all is well. He passed the pre-screening questionnaire for early detection of autism, and he is apparently right on track for his developmental milestones. I guess we are doing something right after all. Although I do think most things so far are kinda gonna happen no matter what. I mean it's not like I had a ton to do with the fact that he can walk, or imitate people, or climb up on the couch, or draw a line with a crayon.

Knowing that I can't control a lot of things didn't stop me from a full-on break down yesterday. The sleep strike this kid is on is making me nutty. Partially because him not sleeping means me not sleeping. Partially because it is frustrating and sad to listen to your sad little baby screaming like baboon on crack. And partially because the sleep strike is ONLY at home. He gets himself ready for nap time at daycare...at home? Not so much.

Yesterday, after waking up three times throughout the night and screaming for over an hour at one point, he was having nothing of nap time. Not. Having. It. So for just under an hour I tried to be patient. Which disintegrated into ignoring, yelling, possible breaking of my fingertip, and getting all sorts of frustrated. And then I finally just gave up and went in there, cried a lot and rubbed his back until he fell asleep. And then cried some more. And then called Kari and made her remind me that having a kid is really hard and I am not a total failure of a human being because I can't get my evil spawn to sleep. And then I whined about my finger.

So yeah, there's that.

Tip toe through the tulips!

Alex will be 18 months old tomorrow. I know I have said it before, but I can't believe how much more fun he is now. I mean the tantrums are something special to behold, but those aside, this kid is hilarious.

He has his 18 month check-up tomorrow. Am I punctual or what?! I am interested to see how it goes. Now that he is more aware, he is not nearly as happy at the doctor's office. Now he realizes it is a bunch of strangers poking around on him and he does not like it one bit.

Other than seeing how he does, I have one thing I would like to ask his doctor about. He has started walking on his tip toes quite a bit. It mostly happens when he is looking for something that he seems to think might be on a tabletop and he will need to stretch to see it. But he doesn't just stand on his tip toes while peering onto the table. He walks over to the table, around the table, away from the table, to the living room and on throughout the house...on his tip toes.

My dear niece Abby is a tip toe walker as well. She is starting to not do it quite so much, but it has taken about 8 years for her feet to be completely on the ground. Her doctor didn't have an explanation, nor seemed too concerned, so I am interested in what Alex's doc has to say. But if it means he will turn out like Abby, I am a-ok with that. How could I not be happy for him to take after a girl who just yesterday was spinning in circles trying to look at her butt to see if she had a tail?! That's the kind of entertainment I am expecting out of this kid.

Merry Christmas to me!

My goal for Christmas was to be at -25lbs. My weekend adventure to Dubuque with one Miss Melanie did not put me aaaaaanywhere closer to that goal. Funny how eating and drinking like you don't have a care in the world, or an almost 33-year-old-post-baby metabolism, can do that. Goals schmoals! Pass the pizza!

Alas, it has been reached! 25lbs gone! If I had any skillz, I would have videoed and posted my celebration dance this morning. But nobody needs to see that. I am pretty sure Travis and Alex are now scarred for life. But I don't care. I have worked really hard for this and I am super excited. I can feel my hip bones again! It's the little things...

Hopin' for 3

The past two nights have been nightmare-free. And it has been glorious. I seriously do not understand how I possibly managed to keep myself together when he was so tiny and waking up multiple times a night and then I had to go to work. The past two nights have once again reminded me how much I truly love sleep. The other nice thing is that Alex is slowly getting over his new found fear of going to sleep. Since the nightmares started last week, he has been fighting nap and bed time more and more each day. Like freaking out, yelling No! No! Nooooooo! any time he thinks it might be time to sleep. Not good.

Anywho, when the nightmares started, I did what every responsible parent does. I Googled it. Along with a lot of people writing about their experiences, there were some advice articles...some even written by real scientists! One of the things I read is that doctors think watching tv within a short time before going to bed can contribute to nightmares. Apparently being all overstimulated by cartoon characters flying and zooming and zapping can be a bit much for little brains to sort out while they sleep, so then the nightmares happen. Weird right?

We don't have the tv on constantly, but we also haven't been leaving it exclusively off. If the armoire doors are open and Alex turns the tv on, we haven't been rushing to turn it off, but we also haven't been encouraging him to sit down and stare into the black hole that is Nickelodeon. But given what Google had to say, I figured it was worth a shot to make sure the tv didn't come on at all at night.

The last two nights, the tv has stayed dormant from the time we get home 'til the beast is asleep. And the last two nights, he has slept like a rock. I am not saying I am sold on the tv being the cause of the nightmares, but if you think I am not going to ride this one into the dirt, you are sorely mistaken.

Cracks himself up

Alex is finding himself absolutely hilarious lately. He is not shy about showing it either. He will say or do something he finds incredibly funny and follow it with one of two things...Throw his head back in laughter...or he bends over at the waist, laughing and slapping his knee. I kid you not. He slaps his knee and then stands back up straight while drawing in a breath like he hasn't tasted fresh air for a decade.

I am slightly concerned about the hubris in this child...but I have to admit he is damn funny.

Yes!

I got my first "Have you lost a lot of weight?" from someone I hadn't seen in a while today. And believe me you...it was fan-fucking-tastic. I almost feel bad for swearing at Jillian last night. Almost.

Oooohkaaaaay...

We think Alex is having nightmares. Which is very odd to me. I mean I get that he has the ability to be scared, I guess I just didn't think about his little brain transforming that into nightmares. We will just add this to the overflowing volcano of stuff I didn't/don't know about kids.

The past three nights, about 45 mins after he goes down, Alex starts crying and screaming. Last night the crying was accompanied by his little legs kicking while his head was in the corner of his crib. So his little head was smacking into the crib, and in turn smacking the crib into the wall, over and over. Travis went in when we could hear the crib hitting the wall and tried to soothe him. Alex didn't wake up at all. But with a little back rubbing and singing, he calmed down and just cuddled up with his blanket all peaceful. He didn't even open his eyes once. Weird.

Now, can you guess how horrible I feel for letting him cry it out on Tuesday night? Yeah. Sweet.

Niiiice.

Last night was a scene of pure class at the Julius house.

It started with me wearing a pair of jeans I refuse to throw away. I should throw them away as they have no button and have to be held up by my belt. The belt with which I am currently between notches. So if I have it on the one notch, it is loose enough that it doesn't quite hold my pants up. My other option is to have it on the notch that is so tight it causes muffin top that makes Roseanne look like a slender lady. I like the jeans. They are one of a few pair that fit me right now and I don't feel like spending money on new jeans. Mostly because that would require me to try on jeans, and that is a demoralizing process second only to swimsuit season. I obviously cannot get myself to be reasonable and throw them away.

The jeans got better though. It was bath night last night. Alex was covered in his dinner so into the bathroom we went. Now, as of late, he has pretty much only been pooping during the mid-day hours. Which is totally sweet five days a week, because I am here at my computer and he is running around like a maniac at daycare. No poop for me! Because of this schedule, the pre-bath routine involves me sitting on the edge of the tub, getting him undressed, and taking off his diaper before plopping him in the tub. Last night the pooing schedule was slightly off...just enough that he had, unknowingly to me, pooped. So, I took his diaper off like normal. But there was poo there. And on him. And then on the floor. And in the confusion of the moment he sat down on my lap and got poo on my jeans.

They are in the laundry basket. Button or not, poo is not winning my denim battle.

Round and round we go

Alex was sick last week. He had a nasty, boogery, congested chest, coughy cold. The kind where he would wake up wheezing in the middle of the night and we would be off to the bathroom to run a hot shower and steam the place up. And then we would cuddle. And sometimes sleep on the couch together.

So get this! He totally got used to getting up a bunch of times per night and having me snuggle with him. And now, even though he isn't all boogery and stuff, he still wakes up and wants me to come down to his room and snuggle him...like two to three times a night. Weird, right?!

Last night marked the zillioninth time "cry it out, sucka!" was instituted in our house. He put up a valiant effort. To the tune of whimpering/screaming/crying for a solid 40 minutes. Fun fun for everyone!

I had to laugh a little though because, believe it or not, this was the first time Travis was home and awake for the whole thing. He has heard other fits, but not one that went on that long. Not shockingly, he didn't like the experience. At one point, when Alex was wailing "Mamamamamama," Trav looked at me with this super sad expression and asked how I can possibly deal with that. Well, dude...it breaks my heart. But getting up three times a night breaks my brain.

She's a seer

Melanie was in town this weekend. Alex really liked her Chuck's. He also really liked having Melanie here. I think the ball hut got more use this past weekend than it has since we brought it home.

A long time ago, before Travis and I were even dating, Melanie decided he and I needed to have kids because she was positive they would be beyond cute. I think she's clairvoyant.

It is 12 days until Christmas. I have a total of 3 presents purchased. Good talk.

What a difference 17 months makes...

Mariah came across this picture.

In related news, I will be getting nothing done the rest of the day as I will be busy staring at this picture. The forehead wrinkles are killin' me.

Damn

He did it. He succeeded. He bit another kid. Right on the hand.

I now will fill out all forms with his new name: Alex T. Julius - Biter.

Where is that award?

Not only did I yell at my child when all he wanted was his nuk, but I also fed him rotten milk the other day. Once again, I rule.

I have just been refilling his sippy cup instead of dumping it out every day. I would dump it out and wash it every couple of days or when starting a new jug of milk. Obviously I thought this was sufficient. Obviously I was wrong.

The other night, I gave him his cup and he took a big swig. And then immediately started spitting it out while giving me a look like, "Why? Why would you give that to me?" At first I thought he was just being naughty...he thinks it's very funny to take a big gulp of milk and then slowly let it dribble out of his mouth. But then I noticed the milk was kinda sticking/crusting to the side of the cup. So I took the lid off and smelled it. Yeah. Totally sour. So I dumped it out. And that is when I reached the pinnacle of striving to attain my Mother of the Year award. When I dumped it out, a clump came out. The milk was so sour it had coagulated. Niiiiice.

Once again...I rule.

Last night marked the most impressive temper tantrum yet.

It started with a 10 minute freak out fest in the car when we left daycare. Apparently me buckling him into his car seat was the meanest and most intolerable thing I could have possibly done. But that was just a teaser for what he had in store for me. A tantrum appetizer if you will.

He was not pleased we were not staying outside when we got home. Outside in the freezing 10degree weather. The screaming started as soon as I closed the door with us on the inside. And then I tried to take off his jacket. That threw the tantrum into overdrive and the screaming was paired up with rolling around on the floor...with some intermittent kicking thrown in for good measure. And that lovely little mess went on for about 35 minutes, traversing the distance of the kitchen to the living room and back again.

I tried to calm him down a couple of times. I put him in a time out a couple of times. I laughed at him a couple of times. Nothin'. He kept up with the screaming and flopping like a trout on a boat deck. At about the 30 minute mark, he wanted to keep throwing his fit, but he wanted to be touching me while doing so. This was accomplished by crawling over to me while screaming and then rolling around between my feet. Finally I was able to hold him long enough for him to point to his room where we retrieved his nuk and blanket. The shoes and jacket came off and all was right in the world...

Until I wouldn't let him play with the printer. The screaming-rolling-kicking tantrum was once again engaged. I managed to wrestle him into some pajamas, which he finds terribly funny so the tantrum subsided, and we sat down to read some books. After the second book and half a cup of milk, he started lunging for the floor while writhing around and whining. And finally I had had enough. So I put him down while loudly saying, "Fine! You want to be on the floor?! Be on the floor!" And I forcefully put the book back on the shelf.

He reached down, grabbed his nuk, popped it in his mouth, looked up at me with big sad blue eyes, and said "Up?"

Yep. I'm an asshole.

It takes a village...

...to raise a child. Especially when the dryer at that child's house breaks. Lucky for us, one of the moms at daycare had recently found some of her son's old clothes and ask if I wanted them. Extra lucky for us, she remembered to bring them in the day Alex was wearing his last clean pair of pants.

Look out laundromat! The Julius's, about 192 dried Spaghetti O's and 28568 crushed Fruit Loops are comin' your way.

Adventures in drinking

During last night's feeding frenzy, Alex wasn't all that interested in his milk. But he had been running around like a mad man all day so I wanted to make sure he had enough to drink. So, I offered him some water in his favorite glass. Yes, it might a beer sampling glass, but he's only 17 months, he doesn't know that. All he knows is that it is a perfect sized glass for his chubby little hands and it doesn't have a sippy top on it so it is the coolest. And yes I am aware that this kid is probably going to love everything to do with liquid consumption based on his parents. Shut it.

After slamming all of the water I gave him, and spilling a copious amount down his shirt, he obviously was even less interested in his milk. So, I asked him if he wanted his milk in his special glass. He looked at me like I had just offered him a trip to the moon via a glitter breathing unicorn. And then smiled HUGE.

I took his glass over to the refrigeration and took the milk out. I looked back at him sitting at the table, and just about fell over. He was sitting straight in his chair, looking at me with a sideways glance and laughing. But the laugh was an "Hohohohoooooo. This is silly/naughty/I can't believe she is doing this" kind of a laugh.

I didn't even know he knew what that kind of a laugh meant. This kid kills me daily.

Chomp!

Guess what?!?! That's right...yet another thing has come about that I was not prepared for and have no idea how to fix. Alex is officially a Biter. Or at least striving to be a Biter. He has yet to succeed thanks to the daycare teachers, but he's trying. Awesome.

He is trying to bite other kids when he is angry. And apparently taking toys away from him and sitting in a rocking chair makes him angry. Bitingly angry. HA!

Lucky for us, the teachers at daycare are very supportive and reassuring and helpful and wonderful and everything sparkly and rainbow colored. They are not only keeping us informed about any biting attempts, but they are also actively working with us to solve the problem. Including printing a pamphlet of reasons and solutions for biting. Apparently this biting is a very common thing, I was just really hoping to avoid it. I guess the whole thing of lacking the ability to vocalize emotions is a bit of a bitch. And biting? Very clearly gets the point across.

Anywho, it looks like a lot of preventative action, positive reinforcement, and overly dramatic sad faces are in our future.

Hungry?

There is no rhyme or reason to how much this kid eats. Over the long weekend, he really didn't eat all that much. But then last night showed up. Dinner consisted of:

-3/4 of a container of Easy Mac with green beans mixed in
-about a 1/3cup of cottage cheese
-some spaghetti
-somewhere round about 25 blueberries
-about 1/3 of a cucumber, which he just walked around gnawing on

It was shocking and impressive all at the same time.

The cucumber episode was quite amusing. I was putting the container of blueberries back in the fridge, which meant the refrigerator door was open...which meant after a mad sprint into the kitchen, Alex was in the refrigerator. He opened a veggie drawer, pulled out a cucumber, and immediately bit into it. Obviously the skin was not going to go over well, so Travis peeled about an inch or two of it and handed it back to him. And off he went. He looked like an insane cucumber addicted little squirrel holding it in both hands and just gnawing off piece after piece. After two more peelings, he was finally done.

And then, giant pot belly and all, off to bed he waddled.

Lost in Translation

Alex's constant babbling narrative has been a topic of conversation many times. But now there are more words popping out here and there that are actually...words. And I couldn't be happier to be able to have a small inkling of what he wants.

There were some family friends over for Thanksgiving at Trav's parent's house and they had their 2-1/2 yr old daughter with them. At one point Alex walked up to her and started "talking" to her. A lot. And she just stood there for a bit and then looked at him and said, "What?!" So Alex repeated himself...At least I think he repeated himself..it's hard to tell. And once again she looked completely at a loss and just said, "What?!"

I hear ya sister.

Lessons in Anatomy

This morning I was getting dressed in Alex's room. I can no longer get dressed up in my room since he has found incredible delight in throwing shoes down the stairs and can no longer be trusted to stay away from the top of the staircase while I get dressed for the day. Anyway, he was in his room with me, chatting away. And then while I am getting dressed, he stops talking, starts giggling and points to my hoo-ha. I shouldn't say giggling. He was laughing. Like it was one of the funniest things he has ever seen. And I had no idea how to react.

I mean seriously. How am I supposed to respond to my 17 month old little boy laughing at my private bits? Gotta admit, I am not quiet sure why it was so funny to him. It's not like we run a nudist colony in our house, but the kid has seen me naked before. Weird.

So I just said, "Yep. That's Mommy's." 'Cause that's totally a sufficient and appropriate response.

They fit!

I am not sure I can accurately express how excited I am that Alex's feet are not quite so large-golf-ball shaped anymore. Because now he can wear shoes like these. Like he is today. Umm, yeah...They are corduroy.

Very thin silver lining

Good news:
As of this morning the lost weight total is 26lbs.

Bad news:
The only reason for the dramatic and rapid loss of 6lbs is the wretched flu our little outbreak monkey gave me...and I am sure -26 will not be a lasting number.

At about 11pm Thursday night, Alex woke us up. He was way beyond not happy, so down the stairs I trekked. Only to find him sitting in his crib surrounded by vomit. Yay. Trav came down and helped me clean up, but by the time he headed back upstairs, Alex was puking again. And again. And again. For a total of 7 times from 11pm to 4am. Then he woke up at 7am bright eyed and bushy tailed and yelling at the dog for no discernible reason. He had no fever throughout his puke fest, so I had a hard time believing he actually had a virus and settled on the fact that something he ate must have really upset his tiny little system.

I settled on that idea until about 4pm on Saturday. And then it hit me. And I hit the bathroom. Repeatedly. It has been a long time since I have had the flu and believe me you, it is not an experience I missed in the least. Thank everything wonderful that Mariah is a fantastic friend. She came over Sunday morning to save me since Trav had to work. I seriously started crying with relief when I got her text "Be there soon! :)" Like really crying. Anyway, she entertained the beast, I slept.

The ol' stomach is still a bit shaky today, but I am sure to be in tip top form by tomorrow. Yay for little germ-spreaders.

Easiest way to a man's heart

In Alex's room at daycare that have a hideaway-type table. When it isn't in use, it folds up against the wall and is out of the way. Which is nice since there are currently 6 walking/running/screeching babies in that room and the more space the better. And before you throw me a side-eye for calling them babies...If I have to continue to tell people his age in months until he's 2, I get to call him a baby.

Anyway, apparently when whoever is cooking that day comes down the hallway with food for them, all the kids crowd around the door like goats at a petting zoo. All of them except Alex. He waits for the table to be put down, and then runs over and starts setting out the chairs.

I would love to say this is due to some level of leadership, or organization, or anything lovely like that, but I guarantee it isn't. That kid has figured out the fastest way to get the food into his belly. He barely chews his food he eats so fast, so you better believe he is not about to stand around waiting for the teachers to put chairs out.

The new thing I learned today...

Leaving your cup of Fruit Loops in the car and not taking them into daycare with you is trau-matic.

Just thought I would let you know in case you too were planning on leaving your Fruit Loops in the car. DON'T DO IT! The world will be thrown off its axis and your only solution will be to scream and arch your back and throw your head back as far as your neck will allow and have no use of your arms or legs. Traumatic.

Fear. It sucks.

I absolutely hate being scared. I don't like scary movies. I don't like scary costumes or masks. I don't find it amusing when people intentionally startle me. I have learned that the easier you startle, the funnier the mean asshole people that like to scare people think it is when they do scare you. Jerks. Being scared is just all around a gross feeling.

An even grosser feeling though? Seeing a scared kid. It is horrible. A new little girl started at daycare yesterday. She has never been to any daycare before. At first, while her dad was talking to the teachers, she was doing great. She walked right in and immediately started playing. Her dad said good-bye and she was fine. And then about 11 seconds after he left, she realized she was in a room with 5 kids and 4 adults she had never seen before. The terror on her face was heartbreaking. And then the inconsolable crying. As I stood there watching this unfold, I could feel the fear in her. The horror of not knowing what is going on around you. The giant writhing knot in your stomach telling you nothing is going to be ok ever again. Of course we all knew everything was going to be fine and she would eventually realize she was in a safe and fun place, but I felt so bad for her.

And wanna take a stab at what's an even grosser feeling still? Yep. Your own kid scared like that. We live really, ear-splittingly, window-shakingly close to the Madison airport. Normally the planes flying in and out aren't too bad. However, our Madison airport doubles as a military airport. Fighter jets are not quiet. I can't even think of a word so far the opposite of quiet that could accurately explain how loud these planes are. For a frame of reference, when the fighter jets are coming in for landing, we are close enough to the airport that the jets are low enough that we can SEE THE PILOT'S HELMET. And what does that spell? L-O-U-D.

So yesterday, Alex and I were walking around outside when we got home, playing with the dog and getting the mail. Since it's getting close to winter and we are in Wisconsin and this time of year sucks, it was pretty much dark outside aside from the street lights. Alex was just on the other side of a shrub and I heard it. A jet taking off. And its take-off path was directly over our house. By the time I got to Alex, the noise from the plane was so loud I couldn't hear him screaming. But his flailing arms, stomping feet, and the gut wrenchingly scared look on his face all were shouting, "I don't know what's happening and I am SUPER SCARED!!!"

I scooped him up and tried to tell him it was ok. He was crying and holding on to me super tightly, with his face buried in my neck. He calmed down pretty quickly after the jet had gotten far enough away it wasn't busting our eardrums. But the pit in my stomach hung out for a bit.

Long story long, being scared is horrible. The end.

Level 3...OF HELL

Dear Jillian,

I didn't think you could be meaner than you are in Level 2. You blew that conception so far out of the water it sitting dry and comfy on its beach towel with a pina colada and cabana boy rubbing suntan lotion on its back.

I was a bit concerned when the warm up consisted of the cardio moves from Levels 1 & 2, but I figured I could handle what you were planning on dishing out.

I am now concerned for your mental well being. It cannot be healthy to quite obviously enjoy intentionally inflicting that much pain upon others. I admit your victims are willing participants, but that only puts you right up there with Manson. While I appreciate the results of participating in your program, I am stating now that I believe I am suffering from a case of Stockholm Syndrome, as no sane person would purposely go along with your torturous workouts.

Ummm...jumping lunges? Are you fucking kidding me? I am not an acrobat. And you can go ahead and suck it with your "Rock Star" jumps.

But as you say at the end of each workout...We'll see you tomorrow.

I may have created a new monster. Alex thinks it's funny if I act all startled like and throw my hands up in response to him letting out a short, high pitched, very loud scream. He laughs and laughs. Ah, the hilarity of thinking you scared the crap out of your caregiver.

Wanna guess what happened the ENTIRE 13 MINUTE DRIVE TO DAYCARE?

You spin me right 'round

As Alex gets older, I am having way more fun with him than before. There are a lot of times I am not having a lot more fun with him, but whachagonna do? It is just so much better now that we can actually communicate with each other. And watching his personality unfold has been hilarious.

I believe it has been documented previously that he finds it terribly amusing to walk around with his blanket over his head and covering his face until he runs into something. Cracks me up. Odd, and not necessarily the most normal thing I have ever seen, but very funny.

Last night we got to see a whole new routine. He walked in small circles as fast as he could until it made him dizzy. And then laughed like an asylum inmate when he couldn't walk straight and eventually plopped down on his butt. And the whole time he was walking in circles..."AaaAAaAAAaaaaAAAaaa." For about 5 minutes, all you could hear in the kitchen was, AaaAAaAAAaaaaAAAaaa...maniacal laughing...baby plopping on the floor...AaaAAaAAAaaaaAAAaaa...maniacal laughing...baby plopping on the floor. With a slight undertone of Travis and I cracking up.

Now this is the kind of humor I can get behind.

Picasso

This past Saturday morning, I was feeling...a bit under the weather...due to certain activities Friday night. Travis was leaving that afternoon for a couple days, so he got up with Alex and let me sleep. It was glorious. Except for the wicked Stoli induced headache.

Anyway, since it is pretty cold in the morning now, being outside isn't really an option, so we have to sometimes get creative with toy options. There are only so many towers to be knocked over and so many vrooms a car can make before a 16 month old is no longer impressed. And then you are stuck with a bored kid. Which is similar to being stuck with a bored Gremlin. No good. And highly destructive to your house and sanity.

Saturday morning, Travis had a stroke of genius. He always has a bunch of old Budweiser signs either in his car or rolled up in the house waiting to be recycled. All of those signs are paper...with plain white backs. And they are pretty darn big. So, he taped one of the signs onto the coffee table and armed the boy with some crayons. Instant entertainment.

We shall see if Alex will distinguish between when there is paper on the table and it is ok to draw on it, and when there isn't paper on it and drawing won't be so welcomed. We may just be setting him up for failure. But it sure was quiet while I was sleeping.

F.Y.I.

Teeth are wretched.

The end.

Highest form of flattery

When I want Alex to go somewhere that he isn't particularly interested in, I take little itty bitty fast steps as I am walking away from him. He thinks it's funny and usually chases me and TaDa! we get to where we need to be. Last night he wanted me to go into the living room with him. I mentioned I was in the middle of doing something in the kitchen and would be there in a hot minute. He looked up at me with his big blue eyes and started taking little itty bitty fast steps. Needless to say, after I picked myself up off the floor from laughing and fainting from cuteness, I went into the living room with him.

I was all happy and basking in the overload of cute this kid can be and told the story to daycare this morning. Which was when they busted out with the fact that they are pretty sure he says, "Oh shit!" when he drops/throws a toy.

I am only taking credit for the cute little itty bitty fast steps. The dog must have taught him the Oh shit thing.

Baby for sale!

Anyone in the market for a 16 month old little boy?

Charming attributes:
-Devastatingly adorable
-Very funny
-Likes most food
-Likes to be bathed

Not so charming attributes:
-Temper tantrums...often...like every. single. time. he doesn't get what he wants. Or if you offer him his milk when he doesn't want it. Or if you try to have him sit in a shopping cart for more than .4 seconds. Or if you try to put socks on him. Or pants. Or a shirt. Or pajamas.
-Sits on others...intentionally
-Now tackles other children if they have something he wants
-Has to have his blanket. Where is his blanket?! HE WANTS HIS BLANKET!!
-Effectively uses spaghetti arms or legs if he wants to be put down or held, respectively.

Priced to sell! Motivated seller! Get in on this deal before it's gone!

Hooooooly shitballs. If you need me I will be in a padded room. With a lot of booze. And Doritos.

Fork this

I am having one of those days where I feel like I should totally have my shit more together than I do. Just a constant, kinda oppressive feeling like I should be at a level of success that has yet to be attained.

I am blaming this feeling on Maggi having a birthday yesterday. A bunch of us met for some drinks. As I was leaving, it was brought to my attention that I was the oldest person at the table. Sweet. And then I realized that aside from three of the guys in our group of friends, I am the oldest one there too. Double sweet.

These realizations led me to an inventory of where I am in life. I definitely would not go so far as to say I am failing at life, but I am just not where I thought I would be at 32. I mean I am fairly broke, working in an office selling HVAC equipment I know next to nothing about, and I don't have my Mustang anymore. Not totally every little girl's dream of what she's gonna be when she grows up. Really close though, amiright?!

On the good side of things, I have an incredible family, irreplaceable friends, awesome husband, a spazzy loyal mutt and one really fucking funny kid. So I guess if you take away the stuff that doesn't really matter..the money, the status, the Must..wait, the Mustang matters. But if you take away that other stuff, I have succeeded in surrounding myself with people I love and admire. And that's not too shabby...at any age.

And then right as I am starting to see the silver lining, I stab a potato from the leftover pot roast I am having for lunch, which was only made last night because it is dirt cheap to make, and my fucking plastic fork snaps in half.

Claire...Mariah said it best. That picture is totally his new "Bitch please." picture.

He is not impressed

I present you with the latest picture from daycare. I present it without comment because I cannot stop laughing long enough to come up with something witty to say.

Further proof I suck

I do not like Halloween. Everything other than the candy annoys me. And sometimes even the candy annoys me. Who is satisfied by one "fun size" piece of candy? Nobody. Who is satisfied by 11 pieces of "fun size" candy? This girl...Who is no longer "fun size".

I have never liked dressing up. Even as a kid. Trick or Treating makes me anxious. Perhaps because of the traumatic experience of having a giant dummy dropped on me when I was little. And now my poor child has to suffer.

I had a costume for him. I may have only had it because my mom brought it last time she visited, but whatever...I had one. And then I went and didn't pay attention to what day daycare was celebrating Halloween. So I didn't take a costume for him. They took the kids trick or treating to a couple businesses nearby. All the kids and teachers dressed up. Alex's costume? He got to go as "The only kid with a slacker mom that didn't bring him a costume." He didn't win the costume contest.

Da da da DAAAAA!

Sound the trumpets! Gather the villagers! Set off some sort of explosives!

20 pounds have been lost!* I am very excited and prouder than a peacock. Since I have reached this goal, I have decided a new goal is in order. I really really would love to lose another 20. But I really really love food. But I also pretty much like to workout, so hopefully we can keep this train a-chuggin'.

*Weight amount and celebration based on a one time weighing at 6am, Thursday, October 29th, 2010. Any future weighings that result in a heavier weight will be stricken from the record and never spoken of again.

In the dark

You would think the longer we have this kid around, we maybe just might start to feel more comfortable and knowledgeable in our roles as parents. You would be wrong. The amount of things that prove we have absolutely no clue what we are doing is sometimes staggering.

Example 1: Clothing size
Every manufacturer makes clothes a little differently, this is common knowledge. But this morning we were talking about the fact that we should probably get Alex a winter coat...you know since it is a high of 43 degrees today with a wind chill making it feel like 35 degrees, and I dropped him off wearing no shoes and a hoodie. I am certain daycare is impressed daily. Back to the jacket. Travis made a good point that we need to make sure we get a size that will fit throughout the winter. Alex is currently in 18 months sized clothes. But that is not going to be the case all the way to spring. So I'm thinkin' 24 months. But then what about 2T? What's the difference between 24 months and 2T? Yeah...I had to Google it. I swear I should just let daycare and Google raise my child. Anywho, turns out they are very close, with most people saying 24 month stuff is wider and 2T is longer. Super duper. We are headed out tonight to find something snuggly for the beast.

Example 2: Development
We have no idea what is normal for him to know at this age. Is it normal that he can (eventually) successfully nest his alphabet blocks, or do we have an engineer in the works? Is it normal that he can pick his own shoes out of a pile of shoes, or is he honing a shoe obsession? One thing I am pretty sure is normal is his utter joy and amusement in letting milk dribble out of his mouth and down his shirt. Funny little man.

To tree or not to tree

I believe maybe, perhaps, once or twice, I have mentioned that our house is not big. It is adequate size..for now. We are going to have to move to something bigger in the near future, but we will cross that bridge later. Bigger housing isn't 100% in the budget these days. Shit. It isn't 1% in the budget these days. Kids are expensive little buggers.

Aaaaaaanyway, the reason the lack of largeness our house exhibits has popped into my little head, is that Christmas is sneaking up on us. Which means putting up a Christmas tree. To which I say HAHAHAHHAAA!

I am fairly certain we are going to have to go without a Christmas tree this year. Normally we move a small end table and have our little tree set up in front of our living room window. However, our living room has been transformed over the last 16 months into a play room/toy storage. Everything in that room, save the TV and radio stuff, is fair game for little chubby fingers. The addition of an off-limits 5' tree covered in sparkly and shiny things is not going to fly. Not to mention I feel like it would be some sort of horrible torture to put a 5' sparkly shiny thing in the middle of Alex's world and then be adamant about him not touching it. Here honey, look at this amazing thing that you will no doubt love and be curious about...but DON'T TOUCH IT. Totally fair. And totally something I want to exert constant energy on. Yeah, no.

The only solution I have come up with so far is to get those anti-shatter ornaments and try to find lights that don't get hot. Add that to bolting the damn tree to the floor so he can't pull it over on top of himself while he is pulling off (read: yanking from the tree and breaking) the anti-shatter ornaments and burning his fingers on the lights that claim they don't get hot, and we will be all set. Good then.

Cubby

Alex has his own cubby at daycare now. It has a change of clothes, a blanket, a nuk, and some medicine if needed. I no longer have to lug a diaper bag to and from daycare everyday. It almost made me cry this morning. Just another reminder that he is getting SO OLD.

19 and Counting

19! That is how many pounds of me no longer exist!

I cannot express how excited I am to get to 20. More so how excited I am that someone might ask me how much weight I have lost and will be able to say "20 pounds! 20!!!" And then do a cartwheel and fart sparkly rainbows...it's a side effect of weight loss.

Welcome to the club!

This morning has been smooth sailing so far. Alex let me sleep until 6:30 and then only had one whiny moment when I was cream cheesing my bagel. He car seat danced and sang most of the way to daycare. When we got there, his favorite teacher was in his room for the day. There wasn't one whimper when I went to leave. He walked up to the little 3/4 door and reached up, but when I said, "See ya later alligator!" he giggled and went back to playing. Such a delightful and stark contrast to yesterday. It never ceases to amaze me how his reaction to being dropped off can make or break my day. Such an odd feeling that my entire mood can be controlled by this tiny little person that smears Spaghetti-O's in his hair and has a fly swatter as his "toy" of choice.

It's still weird when I think about the fact that I am a mom. For 30 years, "Mom" was not my title (well except for the people that worked for us, they called me Mom quite often). And then Whamo! Mom. Anyway, leaving daycare today, my mom-ness hit me square in the face. In a good way though. All of a sudden there is much more of a feeling of camaraderie among the parents. At least it feels that way to me. This morning there were just a lot of smiles and happy waves and good mornings. It's not like it was a Battle Royale other days, but this morning it just seemed...different. I don't know. But what I do know is that as I was driving off, I realized I am a mom...and I all of sudden have a whole different group of people to relate to and be friendly with.

I realize it wouldn't have taken most people a year and four weeks to figure all of this out, but whatever. Let's just all revel in the beauty of me finally accepting that new things can be really good.

Control

I have come to realize I have an irrational fear of Alex getting older. I know it is shocking to hear I am afraid of something...especially when that something is change. But lately I can't stop myself from worrying about things that might or could or probably will happen as he grows up.

Every night while we are sitting and rocking before bed I can't help but think about how fast he is growing up. And in no time at all, I will not be able to fix the things that hurt him. He will have to figure things out for himself. The fears, the hurt feelings, the anxiety, the everything that comes with growing up. I realize there will be a lot of really good things too, but I don't have to worry about those things. Is it legal to put him in a giant hamster ball and protect all information in and out?

It is beyond dumb to worry about it since, guess what, there is nothing I can do about it, but here I am.

Teeth.

Why aren't we just born with teeth already through the gums? What purpose does not having any teeth serve? I mean I get the whole thing where our digestive systems can't digest solid food and we are only ready for liquid nourishment and we can only suck and haven't figure out how to chew yet, but come on.

Wanna take a stab at how many teeth are ripping their way through my child's gums? Four. Four teeth simultaneously busting into his mouth. Fun fun for everyone. I feel so bad for him...and me...and Trav...and the daycare teachers...but mostly for him. As soon as the ibuprofen wears off he gets all fidgety and keeps making this sound like a sick cow, only stopping to say, "mamamamamamama" in the saddest little whiny voice.

Sleeping has also become an issue. Apparently teeth don't sleep. They are jerks 24/7. Achy teeth=lots 'o snuggling=not lots 'o sleep=cranky mommy.

Happy Friday!

The amount of mushed banana I have on the sleeves of my black sweatshirt is super impressive and professional.

That is all.

Blocks

I bought these nesting alaphet block thingys for Alex the other day. He really likes them and is getting pretty good at getting them all nested. He also likes to build towers with them. And he really really likes to knock the towers over.

http://sharing.theflip.com/session/4ec30c161f56619022f2ed5dcac57965/video/19609571

Should I be concerned above his love of destruction? There's a future in that, right? Right?

That bitch

Last week was not good on the workout front. Between people telling us they are having a baby, the Camry taking a giant poop and in turn requiring a drive to my parents' to borrow their car until ours is fixed, and just being kinda tired in general...working out was not high on my list...all week. Wait! Except for Sunday and Friday. I went running on those days!

Last night I knew it was time to bite the bullet. I was on a slippery slope of couch riding laziness and had to stop the non-workout pattern into which I was quickly falling. Travis was helpful in that he went to the grocery store for the week so I had time...and no excuse...to get my sweat on. So, I got reacquainted with Jillian.

I wussed out and only did Level 1. Ummm, yeah. Pretty sure that was a good idea. Based on my performance on Level 1, Level 2 would have possibly killed me. But whatever. I worked out. And reaffirmed that Jillian is evil and is trying to kill off the population one sweaty little workout bee at a time.

This morning, the scale said I am down 17.5lbs. That right there? That my friends is motivation to stay on the shaky legged, sore chest, sweaty butt workout train. ALL ABOARD!

Good to know

Since Alex has been on his antibiotics we have been relatively meltdown free around our house. Which is nice.

Speaking of his antibiotics...I picked up the prescription at the pharmacy, went through all the dosage instructions with the pharmacist, and went on my merry way. When I got home and opened the bottle to give Alex his first dose, I noticed the safety seal had clearly been ripped off. So I called the pharmacy to see what was up. Now the nice thing about Walgreen's, you can pick up a prescription, some Twizzlers and a Halloween costume at any time day or night. The not so nice thing, they don't have the personalized care a smaller pharmacy would have. So when you call the pharmacy department at Walgreen's you have to leave a message. Which I did. And then we waited. I wasn't about to give Alex medicine that had the safety seal ripped off...I won't use deodorant if the plastic inside cover thingy is missing.

Anyway, we were getting frustrated as it was sneaking up on Alex's bedtime and we wanted to give him his medicine before he went to sleep. Travis got sick of waiting, so he drove over to Walgreen's to ask what the dealio was. The pharmacist informed him that he was the one that removed the safety seal. Apparently the magic pink liquid comes concentrated and the pharmacist has to add water to it, so ipso facto the seal has to be removed.

Now this is all good and well, but Gee Whiz Mr. Pharmacist, you didn't think that might be something worth mentioning to the parent that is about to funnel this stuff into their BABY?!?

Can you say that into my good ear?

5:30 this morning, I was woken up by weird noises. Weird noises I thought were coming through the monitor. I my sleepy haze it sounded like Alex was gurgling and having a hard time breathing. So I bolted out of bed, ran downstairs and burst into his room....to find him wiggling around in his crib, completely and totally fine. Completely fine except that now he was more awake than before I burst in there. And he saw me so there was no leaving without instigating a crib-centered riot. So I picked him up and shuffled to the couch where he, the dog and I snuggled in.

While he was squirming around finding the exact spot he wanted to sleep, I heard the weird noises again...coming from the dog's stomach.

Chill out Mom, I got this.

At every "well baby" check-up the nurses and doctor ask you a bunch of questions regarding your kid's development. Everything from what he is eating to if he can do algebraic equations with his eyes closed yet.

Every time I answer as honestly as I can because I want to immediately know if we are missing some life altering milestone. Because that's rational. I have realized when it comes to Alex accomplishing new and different things, I have no ability to complete a rational thought. If he has attained a new skill, I am ridiculously brimming with pride and excitement. If another kid his age has mastered something that still alludes my kid, within a millisecond I am positive I have done something wrong and ruined my child. Don't even talk to me if a younger kid is passing up my baby in milestones. Say it with me now...irrational.

Anywho, I leave most appointments feeling kinda uneasy, kinda satisfied that we haven't completely screwed up this kid. I just don't like it if we aren't where we are "supposed" to be. I know every kid develops at different rates, but smack dab average would do wonders to settle my anxiety. At this last appointment, they asked if he is talking. Yep. I mean he is talking, technically. Just not in a language anyone of this planet can understand. So then they ask if he is saying 5-10 words that we can understand. At that moment all I could think of was his two definitions for no. That counts for 2 of the 5-10, right?

My point is this. Alex has once again shown me that his only purpose and goal in life is to prove me wrong. I left that appointment thinking we were never going to understand our child, and were going to have to find whatever alien taught him to speak for a full translation. But since that appointment words are popping up everywhere. This morning, he handed me his shoe. I said, "Do you want your shoes on?" He looks me square in the eye and says, "Sho." I need to relax.

Icky

This kid never ceases to amaze me. Double ear infection, crusty eye and a cough that would rival a life long Lucky Strike smoker. Doctor prescribed drops for the eye...that outta be fun. And amoxicillin for the cough and ears. Yay for magic pink liquid.

Now I can pretty much guarantee if I had ear infections in both ears, a crusty eye and a cough like that, I would be a miserable...well...bitch to put it lightly. But not this kid. He is not phased in the least. Running around, vrooming cars all over the living room, and roaring like a ferocious lion. Yeah, he roars now when you ask him what a lion says. It's more of a "RAAAAAH!" than a "ROAR!", but it is super cute. And he is very proud of himself, so the smile of accomplishment after ain't so bad either.

Haaaack!

Alex has a cough due to cold. And a snotty nose. And as of this morning a crusty right eye. Boo. At his check-up last week, his doctor said if it hadn't gone away in 4-5 days to give a call and see if antibiotics are needed. Well, it's been a bit over 4-5 days so I called and the doctor wants to see him. Which I understand, but part of me wishes he could just say, "Yep...here's a prescription for some magic liquid that will make him feel better." A big part of me wishes that. It would save the $20 office visit charge and the time of taking him into the clinic.

But! I don't have to worry about the time this time! Travis gets to take him. Have I said how much I like having Travis not working an hour away from home? Because I like it. A lot. And now it's really paying off! And based on how much Alex likes going to the doctor now...I am super duper happy I get to sit this one out.

Obviously I trust Travis to take care of getting the boy there and all that. But little things like letting him drink bath water until he pukes and putting Alex's shoes on the wrong feet one of the last times I was gone, has me a bit hesitant. Yep. He did that. And he also admitted they didn't look right, but he swore the Velcro straps aimed in and not out, so he went with it. Umm...didn't look right is an understatement. I mean when was the last time you saw someone with the shoes on the wrong feet and thought, "Hmm...that looks a little off, but the Velcro straps are going the way I somehow think they should go so...must be right!" I'm gonna go with, never. Never is the last time you thought that. Killin' me.

So cute. So old.

We turned Alex's car seat around on Sunday. He is now a forward facing baby. And he loves it. Unfortunately I wasn't along for the maiden forward facing voyage. Travis called me about .7 minutes after they pulled out of the driveway to tell me Alex was laughing and yelling and all around excited. And then I got a text about 2 minutes after that saying, "Ok...he is squealing now!"

Well apparently the sense of wonder wore off yesterday because this morning was not nearly as exciting. It is fun that I can see him now though. He thinks it's pretty funny that I can turn around and we can see each other. He giggles just about every time. But there was no squealing or yelling this morning. I'm gonna blame it on him being tired, and not admit that all of a sudden he likes Travis waaaaay more than he likes me.

And in case you were wondering, he looks about 17 sitting there all facing forward and stuff.

Muy Caliente!

I can't figure out how to get an upside down exclamation point for the title. You're just gonna have to use your imagination.

Alex is still eating dinner early enough that we don't really eat as a family. So for his dinner we are usually heating up leftovers from our dinner the night before, or making something quick like a veggie burger or EasyMac. At least one of us sits at the table with him while he eats...you know to form some kind of family eating bonding.

Tangent: I used to scoff at EasyMac. Seriously, it is not a lesson in culinary expertise making mac 'n' cheese. How lazy are people? Ummm, yeah...lightly put, EasyMac is fantastic and was invented by someone who loves us and wants us to be happy. A little water and 3 minutes in the microwave and BA-BOOM! dinner is ready. Throw in a side of peas and sippy cup of milk and you're good to go.

Since we don't eat that early, Trav and I sometimes need a snack to hold onto our sanity until dinner. We are nice parents, so we share our snack with Alex, which more often than not is chips and salsa. Manny's chips and Mrs. Renfro's Salsa? So good. We keep two flavors of salsa, regualr ol' hot and jalapeno green. The jalapeno green is no joke. I like spicy food and I will not usually eat it without a beverage handy. Enter Alex the Freak. He will sit and dip his chip in the green JALAPENO salsa and lick the salsa off. And then go in for another dip. He does this until his little eyes start watering and his face is flush. He would go on beyond that point, but as his guardians, we feel the need to step in and stop him.

Last night for his dinner, we heated up some leftover chicken curry I had made. It was fairly spicy. He inhaled it. After finishing his first bowl he was reaching for more, with his little flush face and watering eyes. I am afraid there might be something wrong with this child.

Babysitter's Club

Tomorrow night we have some places to be that are not exactly baby friendly so we need babysitter. We are also super duper organized and smart and didn't think about that little gem until Molly asked who was watching Alex. She asked that yesterday. Tomorrow we have stuff to do. Nice work on the planning ahead, right?

Our two go to ladies were not able to hang out with Alex, so I asked one of his daycare teachers. She has the day off, she doesn't have any plans for the evening. The stars have aligned and all is right in our little world. But then I took a look around our house last night. Oh my dear sweet grossness. I am a big fan of having things picked up around the house. I don't like clutter...it irritates me and makes me feel stressed. I am not, however, a big fan of actually cleaning. So while at first glance our house appears clean, one second of sitting on the couch will tell a dramatically different story. With the amount of hair the dog and I are shedding every day, things have gotten more than a little nasty.

I have to admit, if it wasn't someone that has never been to our house, I would probably not bother. But I cannot have someone "new" come into my house with it this dirty. Especially someone that watches my child on a daily basis but has never before had this opportunity to peek further into our lives.

I feel like it is always a little awkward having someone to your house for the first time. The comfortable flow of the house gets slightly off kilter while everyone gets acquainted with the environment. But now, there is going to be that awkwardness compounded with the fact that I am leaving and the person new to the house is staying. I feel like I am working on a huge project and my grade determines how I will be viewed from here on out. And I really want an A+.

Tonight's agenda: Scrub! Vacuum! Wipe! Mop! Laundry!

I know you are just aching to come over...It's the exclamation points. They make things look fun. They are lying.

Are ya sure?

Alex's babbling is well on its way to resembling real words. The one word that has stood out for a fair amount of time is "No." But now "no" has two different meanings.

When you ask him something and he wants to answer no, there is not a shred of doubt that he means no.
Me: Alex, do you want to go inside?
Alex(with furrowed brow): Nooooooooo.

However, when you ask him something and he wants to answer yes, things get a little murky.
Me: Alex, do you want some milk?
Alex(with raised eyebrows): No?
Me: Yes? You want some milk?
Alex: No?

We've got some work to do.

Beat them to the punch

When I picked Alex up on Friday, one of his daycare teachers said, "So..Alex says 'Thank you' now?" I stopped dead in my tracks. And then I did a little happy dance. Finally! Finally I have managed to teach him something before they do. Finally I have fulfilled my role of mother/teacher/poopy butt wiper in all capacities.

I have been saying "Thank you!" and "Say thank you!" so many times in a sing-song voice over the last couple of weeks it is ridiculous. But hot damn it paid off!

Bits of sunshine

I may not be cut out for motherhood, but Alex still gives me little gems to carry with me throughout the day. Even though I could not deal with his whining more than a couple times this morning and just had to walk away from him, he still came and sat on my lap and played with a shoelace with me. And even though I yelled more than once this morning because I couldn't deal with the meltdowns, he still snuggled me while telling me stories.

But the best one this morning...while we were driving to daycare, the song "I'm Only Happy When It Rains" by Garbage came on the radio. I turned to check my blind spot before changing lanes and I see Alex. Sitting in his car seat, arms going up and down, head bobbing...Dancing to Shirley Manson. The itsty bitsy spider's got nothin on her.

Good good then

It has been a while since I have had an "I am not cut out for this motherhood thing" moment. Having a 1 year old with a cold, getting bad news, and having Travis out of town for 2&1/2 days...yeah, I am not cut out for this motherhood thing.

Brusha Brusha Brusha

The brushing of the teeth of the monster has begun. Well, if you can call it brushing. It's really more just him sticking his little toothbrush in his mouth and sucking the fruit flavored toothpaste off the brush, but you gotta start somewhere right?

There is a light at the end of the bad breath tunnel however. Daycare requested we bring a tube of toothpaste to leave there because they are going to be brushing teeth after lunch. And since they have pretty much taught him everything so far, I figured his teeth have a better shot getting cleaned if they are involved in the learning brushing process.

Abigail Pail

9 years ago today was a big day. 9 years ago today my niece was born. I remember that day like it just happened. It feels like it just happened. But there we all were, sitting in the waiting room for what felt like an eternity, eating brats my dad had made earlier and was now reheating one by one. And then finally finally finally Joe came out with the biggest smile and the hugest eyes, yelled to us "It's a girl!" and ran back to Nicki and their new baby. I would say ran back to their adorable new baby, but damn. That girl. Wow.

Then time started its march. As cliche as it is, it seriously feels like I blinked and she is 9. What happened to the little baby girl belly laughing on the bathroom counter while I changed her nasty butt? What happened? She turned into an incredible girl. She is funny and smart and beautiful. I am just all giddy and mushy that I have been able to be a part of the adventure that is Abby.

I called her this morning to wish her a happy birthday and to hear what was on her agenda for the day. And I had to fight back tears as she went through, in painstakingly great detail, what she had done so far and what was to come. I wanted to crawl through the phone and hug her. I can't believe how grown up she is and I can't wait to see what the next 9 years have in store.

Really?

In general, I think of Trav as being more intelligent than the average bear. Last night he stretched that definition beyond plausibility.

Our lawn had gotten so long we were going to need a hay baler to cut it down soon. Travis was nice enough to let me have my choice between wrestling the lawn mower or the boy. I chose the lawn mower. It has blades, but I still felt I had a better shot of winning than if I were up against the boy. So, he fed Alex, gave him a bath, and put him to bed. After filling two giant containers with enough grass clippings to feed a team of draft horses, I came in from the yard and asked how everything went and if Alex went to bed easily. All was good except..."He drank so much bath water he threw up...twice." Naturally, I was surprised.

Trav tells me that Alex got his chubby baby hands on this little blue cup I use to pour water over his head when rinsing his hair, and he just kept dipping it in the water and slamming water. And then he says, "Yeah, so he just kept drinking cup after cup and I didn't how to stop him." Ummmm...yeeeeeeah...Gee, I don't know...take the fucking cup away from him perhaps?! So I nicely say, "Yeah, I usually don't let him have that cup so he can't drink that much water." His response, "Well that would have been nice to know."

...

I was rendered speechless.

Magic Workers

In his new room at daycare, they are working on phasing out cribs for nap time. So they try to have the kids sleep on mats on the floor instead of in a crib. When I was told of this plan, I actually laughed out loud and wished them luck. This child is not an easy one to contain.

The first day he fell asleep on the floor with his blanket so the teacher picked him up and placed him on his mat. He then woke up, crawled off the mat onto the floor and went back to sleep. The second day he kept waking up when anyone would get near him so into the crib he went. But then today, success! I got a picture from daycare of him all sprawled out on his mat, completely zonked out. I am seriously amazed. I have no idea how they get him to do it. I can barely get him to follow me into the kitchen when I have cookies for him. I am pretty positive there is no way I could possibly get him to sleep anywhere that doesn't have bars on all four sides.

He looked so big in that picture though. And so old. He looked like a real live big kid. I was a millisecond away from crying. He is huge.

Movin' on up!

So, Alex likes to sit on the babies in his room at daycare. Yep. He sits on them. The ones that can't crawl yet...you know the small and completely helpless ones? Yeah, those. SITS ON THEM. He stands there with his back to them, slowly walks/sneaks backwards and then very slowly sits on them...all the while you can see the glimmer of deviousness in his eyes and he is giggling this evil little giggle. Naughty? Yes. Hilarious? Damn straight. It is a funny thing to watch. Of course you can't let him see that you think it's funny, but it is.

At daycare they have two baby rooms. One with all the cribs and one with stuff for the mobile babies to crawl around in and on. The babies are all either in one room or the other throughout the day. Not anymore.

There are two new babies and they are tiny. One started today. She is 8 weeks old and I would guess maybe 7lbs soaking wet. She is super cute. And breakable. So off to the big room with my brute and the other two walking babies. No more sitting on babies for Alex. Which is good and all, but it is not helping with the freezing him in time thing. And when I said that out loud today, all three teachers in unison said, "Oooo! You should have another one!" Yeah...I'll get right on that. After I grow 7 more arms and hire an army of household help.

Getting Older

On Wednesday night Claire had the realization that Alex is going to be 30 one day. Well, not really a realization I suppose as much as the thought popped into her mind. And then blew her mind. It is weird to think about, but I am kind of excited for when he is an adult and what our relationship will be like then and what kind of person he will have become. The thing that bothers me about him getting older is that soon he will be going to school and meeting new kids and having his feelings hurt and being scared and having a girlfriend I am going to have to pretend to like. Now that is some scary shit.



Any current problems he has are relatively easy to fix. Maybe not easy in the exact moment of the giant temper tantrum because I dared to close the door when he wanted it open, but easier than the social issues yet to come. How do you fix things you can't control? How do I fix it when the kids at school don't want to play with him? Or how do I fix it when he is scared and I am not there to tell him everything will be OK? Or when he thinks I have no idea what is what in the world because I am just an old mom? These are things I don't want to happen.



Can't we just freeze him at this age? First, let's teach him how to talk coherently and then freeze him. I feel if he could express himself with words instead of just an outstretched arm showing the general direction of his preference, things would be a lot less frustrating for all parties involved. But other than that...no more getting older.



This also made me realize this has to be a reason must be why people want more than one kid. Once the innocence and simplicity go away, things get scary. Relax. I am nowhere even in the same universe as thinking another child is close to a good idea. But I get it. I get the wanting to prolong the not scary issues. So, freezing him at present age it is.

I had a whole post about Alex getting older and how it's gonna suck and blah blah blah. My computer is being a jerk. It ate it. Damn it.

Addictions

There are a few things in my life that I guess I am addicted to...although I am sure I could stop if I had to, but it would make me sad. Diet Coke is one of these things. I love it. I do my best to limit myself to one a day, but that is super hard. It is delicious.

I have found a new one: lumosity.com

Go. Go now. Don't ask questions. It is fantastic. And supposedly good for your brain too!

Nighty Night

I'm gonna blame it on the teeth ripping their way through his gums...well because I seem to blame everything on his teeth. Cranky? Teething. Fever? Teething. Pooping on the floor? Tee...wait...Dumb mom.

Anyway, the last two nights have not been good on the sleeping front for the little monster, and the only explanation I can come with is that his teeth are bothering him. Sunday night was rough. He woke up at midnight-ish, but was fairly easily soothed. Then 2:30 came around. Awake, crying, not easily soothed. I gave him ibuprofen and sat rocking and stood rocking with him for an hour before he finally fell asleep. And then slept until 6:15. At which point I told Travis I couldn't do it. I was really hoping for 6:30 and the thought of missing out on those extra 15 minutes was pushing me to my brink. I got my extra 15.

Last night wasn't nearly as bad. He slept until 5:30. But it was obvious he wasn't ready to be awake and that he was just uncomfortable, so to the couch we went until about 7 when I realized I only had approximately 20 minutes to get us both ready and out the door. Thank goodness for nighttime showers.

We shall see what tonight has in store for us. Aside from wanting to sleep, I am anxious to see if the new overnight diapers can hold the insane amount of pee this kid produces while he sleeps. Regular diapers are no match for his bladder. They are wimpy like 1-ply toilet paper when battling the immensity of Sleep Pee. Which results in a disgustingly soaked diaper and disgustingly soaked pj's and sheets and a smelly baby. I don't have that many pairs of pj's for him and only a couple sheets...and let's be honest here, there is no way I am doing laundry every day. So, please please please work overnight diapers. I beg you...and so does my little pee smellin' baby.

After Bath Adventures

Lately when Alex is done with a bath it is a race to get him dried off before he is off and running around the house. The kid loves running around naked. And I am not joking about the running part. He can run now. And he likes it.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand. When I pick him up out of the tub and stand him up on the floor mat the wrestling match begins. In my corner is me and a towel. In his corner is him and the advantage of slippery wet baby skin. So far I have won every match, but by the time I get him dry, I no longer have enough fight left in me to attempt to put a diaper on him, much less any clothes. So off he goes.

So far, this has not been a problem. He runs around for a while, laughing like an insane convict that just escaped from jail, and eventually I grab him and get him diapered and into some pajamas. Tonight was a different story.

The bath went great, he splashed around...even dunked his head under the running faucet a couple times. Then the time was upon us. He wanted out. As I pulled him out of the tub, I could swear you could hear the ding of the bell announcing this evening's bout. He wanted to run. So I dried him off as quickly as I could and sent him on his screeching way. He ran around a bit and then came back to the bathroom where I was cleaning up. He played his little game of shutting the door on me, having me knock and then open it up to say hello. But about the third time through, he didn't shut the door. He just stood there hanging on to it. And he got that look. That far away look that every parent immediately recognizes. I froze...And all I could do was ask, "Are you pooping?" The stare remained. So I asked again. Yes, I asked a 14 month old that can only say about 3 & 1/2 words...twice. And then before I could get myself unfrozen, there it was. The biggest poo I think he has ever expelled. Right there on the floor. And then he laughed and started to run away. Which is when I got to see the second poo hangin' out and on its way to the floor.

I will be checking my mail for my Mother of the Year Award starting tomorrow.

I was right! Probably!

The thinking it was teeth that were causing Alex's fever just may have been correct! As previously stated, I thought he had caught a bug. But I just got a message that he has two, count 'em 2!, molars trying to bust through on the top. Having teeth move around in your head is hard work people. It apparently not only can make you a zillion degrees, but it can also make you puke. Awesome.

PS-Kari mentioned that on Tuesday too. Maybe I should go back to listening to what she says instead of going with my overactive imagination. Perhaps.

Eeeasy there freak mom

In the midst of a zillion temperature readings yesterday one came up as 102.4. Which to me is pretty warm for a tiny little man. So naturally I immediately called Alex's doctor. Or more correctly, his doctor's nurse's desk.

Now I have to admit, before I called, I asked Kari what she thought. And she said, "Well, what is the doctor going to tell you?...Give him some ibuprofen. So give him some ibuprofen." And if I wasn't such a freak, I would have listened to her. But I am a freak, so I didn't. Wanna guess what the nurse told me? Yep. Give him some ibuprofen.

I finally came to a realization after I talked to her...and she kinda giggle when we spoke. The realization is simple. Kids get sick. Kids get fevers. Kids throw up. It made me think back to when I was kid and how many times I got sick and how many times my parents didn't have to call the doctor. Maybe it was because I am the third kid, or maybe it was because a sick kid isn't always a dramatic situation. Either way, it is what it is. It sucks, it's messy and you do whatever you can to make your kid comfortable while he rides out the storm.

Or maybe I'm wrong...

Yesterday Alex had a fever. But he has also been drooling a lot and chewing on his blankets and hands ferociously, so I chalked it up to teething, threw some Tylenol down his throat and off to daycare he went. I got a call from daycare a little before lunch that the fever was still there. So we tried ibuprofen, because the daycare teacher agreed it was just his teeth bothering him.

But when I got there to pick him up, he was in a different outfit than the one I dropped him off in. That is never a good sign. He was also all bundled up and sitting in the rocking chair with his favorite teacher and the saddest sad baby face that has ever been sad. Yeah...he had just puked up his entire lunch. Gonna go ahead and guess the fever was not from teething.

He looked so sad! And pathetic! He was not at all happy about his current state. Proven further by the fact that he rode home with his blanket pulled over his head and face almost the entire drive. When we got home, he was super whimpery and only wanted Travis to hold him. Which I was totally fine with when he puked all over the kitchen floor while Trav was holding him. But just my luck as soon as he was almost done puking he lunged for me...only to puke all over my shoulder and himself. I went straight to the bathroom and started a bath while Travis scrambled to clean the floor before the nasty disgusting dog cleaned it for us...with her mouth. Sometimes dogs are just the grossest animals. It's puke! Don't eat it you furry little moron!

Anyway, this is the first time Alex has thrown up since it was just spitting up formula, and holy cats was this more traumatic. He sobbed for about a half hour. And when I tried to put him in the bath he screamed screamed screamed. So I sat him on my lap for a minute to calm him down. So there I sat with puke all over my shoulder and a naked crying kid with puke on his face and chest. Who then proceeded to pee all over me. Because really? Why not? What's one more bodily fluid all over my clothes at this point? Good good. Thanks buddy!

After a bath, some Pedialyte and goldfish, and a couple episodes of Spongebob all was right in the world. He slept well until the jerkstore fever came back as soon as the all powerful ibuprofen wore off. But with another dose and some rocking he was back to sleep until this morning. I am working from home since shockingly day care doesn't want him back today. We shall see how the day unfolds. Wish me luck.

An Apple A Day

My aunt gave us a giant bag of apples from her neighbor's apple tree. We have found Alex's new favorite food. Each day this week has gone pretty much the same way upon arriving home. He laughs at the dog for a minute and then he walks over to the bag of apples, pulls one out and hands it to me to peel. Then he walks around playing, talking, whatever, with an apple in one hand. When he puts it down to use both hands for something, and I ask him if he is done, he immediately picks it back up and takes a big ol' bite out of it while looking at me. Like, "Don't even think about it lady." Don't get between this boy and his apple.

Shot to the Heart

Alex usually doesn't show much preference between Travis and me, but if he does, I am usually the one he chooses. Not gonna lie...most times I like it. It is a nice stroke to my delicate mom-ego to be his comfort zone.

Well the little jerkstore smashed that ego this morning. And pretty much had been smashing it this week so far. He has become a daddy's boy. Big big big time. The past couple nights he has been much more content playing with Travis than with me, and I have been totally fine with it. It gives me a bit of time to get some of my stuff done.

But this morning was too much. He literally threw a fit when Travis was getting ready to leave. Travis was holding Alex and handed him to me so he could get his stuff packed up and get out the door. Alex faaareeeeaked out. Back arching, head thrown back screaming while twisting and writhing to get away from me. So I put him down. He went straight to Travis. I picked him up again. Same fit. The fit continued for about a minute or so after Travis left and then he was trying to get down, so I put him down. At which point he crumpled into a pile of sad baby with his face buried in his blanket on the floor.

My cure-all Mom Powers are apparently dwindling.

Update!

As of 5:57 this morning...I have officially lost 15.5 pounds! 248 ounces! 62 sticks of butter!

We shall see if my scale was just being nice to me this morning or if it continues to be true, but either way I am taking it.

Never stops

This child does not stop talking. Most of the time we have no clue what he is saying, but every once in a while it is totally clear. And sometimes, it seems as though an entire sentence is clear.

Last night for example, he was playing with Kari. They were swinging the door to his play house back and forth to each other. Honestly, Alex was trying to hit Kari in the head with the door, but we're gonna just skim on over that little detail. So the door is going back and forth, Alex pushes, Kari pushes. And then Kari pressed the doorbell. And both of us totally heard him say, "Who's at the door?" Kari and I immediately looked at each other with sheer and utter shock. Did he seriously just blurt out a complete sentence? And I thought I was impressed when he said "Kitty!" this past weekend. He was even pointing at the cat! Clearly he is much more advanced than I give him credit for.

Right as I was about to doze off into dreamland last night, I hear Alex making noise over the monitor. But it wasn't his normal nighttime, come cover me up after I have thrown my blanket off AGAIN, noise. He was talking. Straight up talking in his sleep. For quite some time too. I don't know who he was talking to, but they got an earful.

Guard Dog Extraordinaire

Our house needs new windows. Like almost every window needs to be replaced. Aside from three of them in the living room, they are all the old school windows that have the rope-pulley-weight system to hold the window open...but the ropes are broken on all but one. So the other ones are either held open by humidity or by lodging something under the window frame.

Last night I was counting on humidity to hold one of the kitchen windows open. And it did. Until 2:28AM. At 2:28AM the sticky hold of humidity released its grasp and the window slammed shut, making an incredibly loud, sharp noise. Sweet little Aiden dog mistook the window slamming shut noise for a WE ARE UNDER ATTACK! noise. And the only defense to being under attack? Bark as loudly as possible and refuse to be calmed down for a solid 2&1/2 minutes. And not shockingly, as soon as we got her to stop barking like a maniac, Alex started crying. He could have been crying before that, but due to the noise from the insane crack-head hyena I call a dog, I could only hear him once she shut up. Luckily, he wasn't too upset and went back to sleep quickly. Not so for crack-head hyena dog. No sir. She remained on high alert for the rest of the night. So every time she heard a squirrel fart outside, we were woken up by barking. We have a lot of squirrels, and apparently they had refried beans for dinner.

I am tired.

Who knew sitting still was possible?

If Alex is awake, he is moving. Even when he is falling asleep some part of him is constantly moving. His fat little feet rubbing on my lap or his little sausage fingers playing with his blanket...moving moving moving.

All this movement has forced us to be creative when it comes to cutting his nails. So far, we have just done it when he is asleep. When he was littler, we would put a burp cloth over his face so we could turn on the light and not disturb his slumber...kinda like a poor man's sleep mask. But he won't let that happen anymore. If we try the burp cloth light shield, he immediately pulls it off of his face. He stays asleep, but will not leave the cloth over his face. So we have to use the flashlight function on Travis's phone. Yes, we sit in Alex's dark room, one of us holding him and the phone/flashlight and the other armed with a nail clipper. We are ninja nail cutting parents.

Last night when I was sitting with him before bed he was doing his normal foot gymnastics with his blanket and I realized he had a toe nail that was broken and was snagging the blanket. So I called Travis in with the nail clipper to take care of it. I told him the toenail situation and that it needed to be cut. He looked at me as if I had just told him he needed to solve the economic issues of the world and just said, "You want me to do this while he's awake?" Yes sir.

So he sat on the ottoman and grabbed Alex's incredibly ticklish foot and went in with the clipper. And Alex just sat there watching him. He didn't move at all. Well, except for his mouth. He had a lot of questions about what was going on. But other than all the questions we couldn't understand, he just sat still and let Travis go about cutting his toenails. It was like we were living in the Twilight Zone. But the second Travis was done, Alex commenced his nightly climbing of Mommy and all was right with the world.

Doggy!

Slowly but surely, I am starting to be able to understand what Alex is saying. He now says doggy. It sounds strikingly like ducky, but we don't have any pet ducks so I am going with doggy. This morning was pretty damn cute when we were leaving. He was waving and saying doggy as I was saying goodbye to her. Yes, I say goodbye to the dog. Everyday. She appreciates it.

He has Mama and Dada down very well. Now if I could just figure out what he is saying the other 94% of the time, we would be in business!

Meow

Since I have plenty of people around me that have older children, I am quite sure the feeling of not knowing what the hell I am doing is pretty much never ever going away. I wish I could figure out some way to not feel like that...or at least stop doing things that make me question why I am allowed to have a child...but as the grumpy old man said, "You can wish in one hand and crap in the other. See which fills up first." Given the extraordinary amount of time that has been devoted to poo in the last year of my life, I know that answer to that one.

Aaaaanyway, the most recent one isn't that horrid, but not that great either. Alex still has cradle cap. It doesn't stink like rotting Parmesan anymore, which is nice, but it is still there. Luckily he has a ton of thick hair so it is not noticeable unless you are behaving like a monkey and picking at your son's head. Not that I would ever do such a thing. I have been going along with the instructions I got from the doctor that all you can really do is gently scratch it when he is in the bath to get the dead skin to slough off. Which for the most part has been keeping it in check. Not getting rid of it, but not getting any worse.

About two nights ago, I was sitting with Alex right before bedtime and I noticed a spot on his head where his hair wasn't quite as fluffy as the rest. And that's when the "Wow. I am an awesome mom" feeling hit. The reason that one spot isn't so fluffy is because I apparently had neglected that spot and the hair was stuck to his head and getting covered with cradle cap. Like matted fur on a cat. Yeah, I pretty much rule at being a parent.

Sweet Validation

Fitting into old jeans is one of the most exhilarating feelings. It's like shopping, but getting stuff for free. It's old stuff that you have already worn, but it's the good stuff. The stuff you decided to keep. There were plenty of jeans that got donated when my fat ass couldn't be crammed into them any longer. But a select three were allowed to stay and take up room in storage. And I am so happy I didn't kick them out. The hyper-ventilation inducing workouts...So worth it.

If you couldn't tell, I am wearing a new pair of old jeans today. And it is good. I am more tired than a grizzly woken up half way through hibernation, but I am wearing new old jeans. Coffee can fix the tired. I think.

Not sure what the boy's problem was last night, but it was one of those nights that he wasn't gonna sleep unless he was being held. And then he took a solid 45 minutes fidgeting and moving and rearranging before he found a position comfy enough to sleep. Yay. He was oddly giggly this morning though so I guess I can forgive him.

Not fair

I had to wake Alex up this morning so I wouldn't be late to work. There are so many things wrong with that.

1. Never ever EVER wake a sleeping baby. Just don't do it. You won't like the outcome. Sure they may be all cute and cuddly at first, but then they fully wake up, go into a manic state and then crash but are too crabby to go to sleep.
2. He sleeps in the cutest position possible. I am pretty sure a lot of babies sleep this way, but that doesn't make it any less cute. He is face down, with his face to the side for breathing purposes, arms and knees tucked under him, butt so so high in the air. So basically, the fetal position, but face down. So cute. So uncomfortable looking.
3. All I wanted to do was crawl into his crib and sleep with him. Alas I am too large. And I had to go to stupid work.

The one good thing about this whole thing? Daycare had to deal with the fallout of me waking my kid up before he was ready.

Ahhh, The Ballwegs

Are you kidding me with this? If this pictures doesn't ellicit a huge smile and a billion awww's out of you, you have a heart of stone. That's all there is to it.

Erin Moore Photography...FANTASTIC

Shoes? Who needs 'em?

So far I haven't really put shoes on Alex. His feet are so...ball-like, shoes were a near impossibility. But they are starting to flatten out and we currently have 3 pairs (aunts will spoil children) that we can get on his feet. They are all sandals. Two have Velcro straps for adjustable sizing. His are adjusted as wide as possible. Like the very end of the fuzzy Velcro side is barely hangin' on to the very end of the scratchy Velcro side.

I put a pair on him a while back. It was quickly apparent he did not like them. I got the first one on and while I was Velcro-ing the straps on the second one, he was shaking his foot trying to get the first one off. Once I got the second one on, I stood him up on the floor. The confusion this kid had was hilarious. He just kept picking up his feet and trying to shake the shoes off of them. By his expression you would have thought he just realized he stepped in gum. Confusion mixed in with a whole lot of disgust. Like, "What in the hell is that? Oh GREAT! Now I have something stuck to my foot!" And then he sat down and started crying. So I was nice and took them off.

Any day the mosquito situation is tolerable, the kids play outside at daycare. There is one play area for the babies that has some padded squares down for them to walk on, but he also gets to go in the big kids area sometimes. The flooring of which is not so luxurious. No padded squares. Mulch. Mulch requires shoes. He really only uses the swings in that area so the teachers have just been carrying him over there so far. I am guessing that is only going to last so long.

Pretty soon I am going to have to get my little hippie baby to accept shoes.

Back to it

Yesterday, my life got back to normal after 4 days of no work, lots of drinks, and a fantastic wedding. All house guests had gone to their respective homes. Alex was home. Back to work. And...back to working out. It was not an easy sell. I was super duper tired. But I did it. It is amazing how much harder those workouts are when you have taken 4 days off in a row. Wowsers. Good news though, I not only didn't gain any weight this weekend, but I also lost a pound. Yeah baby!

Having Alex home made me realize how much I missed him. It didn't seem like I missed him since we were all so busy all weekend, but it is really nice having him home. He is "talking" more than ever. His chatter is just barely short of constant. I so badly want to know what he is saying. You can usually get the jist of it from his expressions though. Kinda like the opera.

When we got home yesterday afternoon, the mosquito situation had gone down to Threat Level Blue so we were actually able to spend some time outside. The whole time we were out there, he followed the dog around, shouting orders at her, arms flailing to punctuate each point. I thought it was hilarious. The dog was not impressed. Pretty positive the dog enjoyed her time away from her brother. She got to lounge on the couch without having her ears pulled or eyes poked. Whatever, someone has to keep that dog on her toes.

Ta Da!

Brent and Kari are now Mr. & Mrs. Ballweg. Our bestest buddies are married! Exciting times my friends. The wedding was awesome. I was doing great with keeping any tears at bay all morning...and then I saw Brent in his tux. And then I cried a little. And then? Then! Since I was stationed behind Kari, I had to face Brent through the whole ceremony. And that jerkstore had the nerve to be really happy and almost crying...through the entire ceremony.

Aside from the absolutely disturbing amount of sweat the entire wedding party excreted that day, everything was beautiful. Kari was stunning. Brent couldn't have been more handsome. Everything, the whole day, just everything was fantastic. I am so happy I got to be a part of their wedding. It's not every day two people that mean that much to you get married. And it is one of the coolest things to be a part of.

Congratulations to two of my very favorite people.

New Day - New Discovery

Our house is not big. At all. But for now, it's just fine and snuggly. Alex's room is by far the smallest room in the house. Aside from the bathroom...but it's a bathroom...and it's the size of a small walk-in closet so it doesn't really count for much. Anywho, his room. It's small. But being the smallest person in the family, that's what he gets.

When we lowered his crib mattress, it was suddenly just a bit lower than an outlet. Which meant he could easily reach his chubby little sausage fingers into an outlet. An outlet that has stuff plugged into it. Not good. So we rearranged things.

This morning I am laying in bed, cherishing every moment I have gotten to sleep past 4:45. And over the monitor I hear this click...click...click. Was he kicking something? Did he manage to sneak one of his drumsticks to bed with him and is gently tapping on the side of his crib? I couldn't figure out what he was doing to make that noise. Eventually he started making his "Mom come get me" noises, so I ventured downstairs.

And then I see what the noise was. His door is pulled open, since he can now reach it if he stands on his tip toes...which is about 99% of the time. He is standing at the end of his crib. Click...click...click...light on...light off...light on. He found the light switch. And he loooooooves it. I have a ever growing pit in my stomach just thinking about how long he is going to stand there at bed time click, click, clicking. There just may be a new room arrangement on the horizon.

New Witching Hour

4:44. In the A.M. For the past three mornings. That is the ridiculous time Alex starts fussing/whimpering/kinda sorta being awake all of a sudden. Not cool, little dude. Not cool. Aside from me not wanting to be up that early, he is clearly not ready to be awake. So he ends up being all cranktified...and wobbly. That kid cannot walk when he is tired. Which is a problem because he tries to walk...and then trips and plops down...and then cries...the fakest, most pathetic cry ever. And then he gets back up and tries to walk. And round and round we go.

This morning I got up at 4:44, put his nuk in and covered him up. And he fell back asleep for about a half hour. Then I got back up and rocked with him for a bit. He was fidgety and then after a while just started talking, so we got up. In all of our bleary-eyed, wobbly-legged glory. And I decided to prove just how tired I was this morning by only putting on some of my make-up. Apparently mascara was optional today. Lookin' good Julius...lookin' good.

One effective bitchtastic workout lady

Holding steady at -12lbs for the past 3 days.

I still come close to hyper-ventilation near the end of Level 2. Level 3 is not even in the running for something I am considering attempting. And I need to wash my living room floor. The amount of dried sweat droplets is so many levels of disgusting I don't really want to talk about it. Oh yeah, and then I let my baby play/walk/crawl/roll around on said floor. I am a stellar mom. A 12lbs lighter stellar mom! CAN I GET A WITNESS?!!!

Dear Brain, Please return.

I am seriously losing it. My lack of memory is nuts. On Monday evening Alex and I went grocery shopping. I shop from the store. He sits in the little baby holder spot and shops from the cart. I keep things in the cart until I pay for them. He takes things out of the cart one by one and drops them on the floor. We have different styles. Anyway! On Monday, he grabbed a bag of sugar snap peas from the cart and instead of dropping the bag and laughing, he decided to chew on the bag. Chew away kiddo! As long as you are content chewing on that bag, my shopping experience is one step higher than the 7th circle of Hell.

Jump forward to last night. I made cashew chicken for dinner. Getting everything ready, I was going through the peas de-stringing any that needed it. With each handful I pulled out of the bag, I was completely shocked at the quality of the peas. Or lack of quality more specifically. Every single pea pod was marred in some manner. A lot of them jaggedly broken in half. I was shocked the distribution company would even bag these to sell them. They were a mess.

Yeah...I was 3/4 through the bag and said out loud, "Geez! It looks like a mouse chewed on every single pea pod in here!" And with that sentence it finally hit me. It wasn't a mouse. It was your kid that you let chew on the bag for 25 minutes. Dumbass.