Monday, January 31, 2011


My cold is still here. I am quite positive my weekend activities did nothing to help. But Alex was in Platteville all weekend. And Mariah had a fundraiser. And Bandung has really yummy food and nutty coconut drinks. There was no staying home and laying low for this lady!

I did however sleep like there was no tomorrow. Saturday, I didn't get out of bed until 11:45am. That is a solid 5-6 hours of sleeping in. And it was glorious. And then I took a 3 hour nap on Sunday. Eat really good food, drink really yummy drinks, sleep like a hibernating bear. A girl could get used to that schedule.

I did miss Alex though, so it was nice to see him when he got home. But then the tantrums started. Apparently he saved them up for us all weekend. According to his aunt and uncle, there was not one single fit thrown while he was gone. I realize the undivided attention of their entire family most likely was a big factor in the lack of tantrums, but I have to admit I am super jealous. He did make up for it by being really snuggley while we read books though. Only to sleep like an angel and wake up like a demon. And I am pretty sure I just cleaned snot off my sleeve. Ahhh...back to reality.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Stop it!!

He did it again. He peed on the potty. This has brought two things to the forefront of my mind.

1. I despise the word "potty." Almost as much as panties and moist. Almost. I can at least get myself to say "potty," while I will avoid speaking the other abominations in the English language at all costs.

2. Alex is growing up really fast. Like right before my eyes. It amazes me every single day. But today I got another text from daycare. This one was a picture of him actually sitting on the toilet. My baby is all grown up. It's a bit deceiving because they installed a toddler toilet in the toddler bathroom, so it is proportioned correctly, but he is huge. He is a child now. He is not a baby anymore.

I guess there is a #3...I am sad he is getting so big so fast. Really sad. Kari mentioned that I should have another baby. I mentioned I would attack her with her own box cutter. I'll get over being sad.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

I am not sure what she thinks is so funny, but my kid looks aaawwwfully guilty.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

An aside

I have a cold. Yesterday I could feel the cold's death grip creeping its way into my sinuses. Vitamin C and I teamed up and fought the good fight, but to no avail. So now my desk is slowly being taken over by Halls wrappers and wadded up tissue. I am currently sitting with a tissue crammed in my left nostril as the skin is already rubbed just about raw from blowing and wiping my nose, so I have given up and just plugged the damn thing.

If you need me, I will be sitting here doing my best to class up the joint.

Shocked me again

I received a text from daycare yesterday. Getting texts from daycare always scares the pants right off me. Every time I am expecting them to say, "That's it. We're done with him." And I will have to go get him, only to find him sitting outside with all his stuff in a bundle hanging from a stick like a hobo. Yesterday was not that day!

The message yesterday was to inform me, in all CAPS, that Alex "PEED ON THE POTTY!" I fell over from shock, sat back up and texted back the completely mature response of "SHUT UP!" His teacher was putting the kids on the toilet just to introduce the idea to them. She sat Alex on it, he sat there looking at her, she said, "Ok, go pee.", and he did. She wasn't expecting him to actually do it, so he ended up peeing on his shirt, but he did it. And then he did it again later in the afternoon...sans the peeing on the shirt part.

I wasn't even close to thinking about letting this kid out of diapers, so I am not exactly feeling mentally prepared to tackle that giant Cerberus. I am also assuming yesterday's events were a fluke and this is not yet going to be his normal mode of excreting waste, but it is just another thing that proves he will get older. And while I am impatiently waiting for him to be able to better express himself, I am not so keen on the him growing up thing.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Teeth and Tantrums be DAMNED!!

I can't believe it, but I forgot how much it sucks to share a house and life with a teething child. Two year molars have reacquainted me with this horror. The drooling, the snot, the fingers jammed in the mouth, the whining. And the sinuses draining giving Alex that lovely old man that has smoked for 1,000 years cough. So add that to the tantrums and the biting and I think we have a certified "terrible two's" 1&1/2 year old.

The tantrums have pushed Travis into reading Happiest Toddler on the Block...again. We both started reading it a while ago, but neither of us really got into it. At the time, the tantrums were not all that frequent or insanely ridiculous, so my half-assed attempts at applying the theory presented in the book didn't really do much. But now that we need to figure out how to control a Tazmainian Devil on a bad acid trip, I figure I'll give it another go. I am willing to learn how to stand on my head while juggling and riding a unicycle if it will get this kid to ease up on the rubber-limbed, red faced, rolling on the floor tantrums. So reading a book and giving this guy's ideas a shot seems reasonable.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Lesson Learned

There are two things Alex really likes:
1. Not getting dressed after a bath.
2. Shutting the bathroom door on me so I can't get out of the bathroom. Over and over and over again.

Last night the combination of these two things carried on for about 5 minutes or so until Travis came up with an activity more enjoyable than slamming the door in my face. Alex trotted off, I was able to vacate the bathroom, and we went about the rest of our evening agenda.

After we got Alex finally dressed and asleep, Travis went into the bathroom to straighten up from bath time. I walked over to ask him something, but I stopped mid-question when the light from the bathroom hit something shiny on the floor right in front of the door. Shiny, like wet shiny. Like a puddle of pee kind of shiny.

You would think I would have learned my lesson with the poo experience a while ago, but I did not.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Total Control

As of late, the biting had seemed to be a quick phase that we were happy to leave behind. Until yesterday. I got there to pick him up and was handed an "Ouch Report". The teachers have to give parents these little reports if their kid gets hurt. The report explains what happened and how they took care of it.

Here's the explanation of how Alex got hurt:

"Alex Julius was fighting over a toy with another child. Alex bit the other child and the other child bit Alex back, on his hand."

Fantastic. Gotta admit, it reads a bit more like a bad note sent home from school than a sympathy inducing ouch report. I was also informed they had to fill out an ouch report because both children left marks.

After congratulating Ryne (who played the part of "the other child" in this little adventure) for finally getting him back, I attempted to put Alex's coat on him. Based on his reaction, he wasn't quite ready to leave.

He immediately started screaming and all limbs turned to rubber. So I sat him in a time out. He sat for .00001 second and then followed after me, screaming. When he got within reach, he tried to hit me. Repeatedly. I got down to eye level with him, held his arm and told him he was not allowed to hit. He responded with a lot of red faced yelling. And then he ran away. I managed to get him cornered like a calf with Mad Cow, and knelt down in an attempt to contain his flailing body and get a coat on this child. His teacher brought his nuk over which settled him down juuuust enough to at least have him dressed appropriately for winter.

At this point I couldn't tell if I was sweating from wearing a winter coat inside while wrestling a wild boar with the temperament of a wolverine or if it was from sheer embarrassment. So, I apologized for my biting child, asked if anyone was interested in taking him home, shockingly nobody volunteered, and we left.

So I'm feelin' pretty sure I have this parenting thing down pat.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

When baby's happy, everyone's happy.

Once again Alex has proven he has ultimate control over me.

Yesterday morning he woke up on the WRONG side of the crib. Good gravy was that child grumpy. The whole morning was consumed with whining and small tantrums. Culminating in an epic wrestling match. I am proud to announce, I won. He left the house not only with a diaper on but also fully clothed. Aaaand I kept my shit together and didn't get all angry. Sorry, I kept my sugar together. He was grumpy all the way to daycare and even scowled at his favorite teacher when we got there. After I dropped him off, I was all grumpy and not wanting to face the day.

Then this morning, he woke up in a great mood. He was super cute all morning and with a little distraction from Jungle Junction, getting him dressed was a breeze. The whole drive to daycare he talked to me. His chatter was only interrupted by Fruit Loops being crammed into his mouth, or by his laughter when he realized how funny whatever he just said was. He was excited to play when he got there and even gave me a kiss good-bye. I left with a bounce in my step and ready to tackle the day.

I can't decide if this is an incredible display of empathy or a ridiculous and total lack of emotional control. What I do know is that I really like it when that kid is happy.

Friday, January 14, 2011

To the brink...and beyond.

Today marks the second day in a row Alex has decided 5:00AM is an appropriate time to wake up. Like wide awake, ready to start his day, kind of wake up. Not a sleepy, I was uncomfortable wake up...a full on Let's do this! wake up. At which point, I was woken up by hearing "Uh-oh." through the monitor. That's always promising. When I got to his room he was standing there gazing down at his blankets on the floor. He is apparently not a quick study with the whole dropping his blankets over the edge and not being able to reach them. Or maybe I am the one that isn't a quick study since he is using me as a live action grabber arm thingy. Short story long, he was awake, I was awake. Lame.

I need to preface the rest of this with the information that for some reason beyond my grasp I have been sleeping horribly all week. I am having a hell of a time getting to sleep, and once I finally do, I can't stay asleep. Lots of tossing, turning, pillow flipping, clock staring. Oh, and for the better part of yesterday I felt like I was getting the flu. K. I think I am done justifying my actions.

This morning was fine aside from the ridiculous waking time, except Alex only wanted to be with Travis. Which was all good and well until Travis had to leave. Then Alex realized he was stuck with me. The evil one that won't let him play in the kitchen sink with knives and dirty dishes. And thus the tantrum started. I ignored it as long as I could but we had to get going so I picked him up, got him to stop crying, and then set him down to put on his coat. And he ran away from me. When I got a hold of him he made his arms limp so I couldn't get them into his coat sleeves. Oh yeah, and the tantrum started again. And that is where I lost it. I jammed his little dead worm arm through the sleeve of his coat while yelling and obnoxiously imitating his tantrum. Shockingly, he started crying. A lot. Like the kind of crying that makes you catch your breath in short, sharp little gasps. Of course I instantly felt like a jack-ass and the worst mother in the world.

The entire ordeal was over in seconds. A hug and a cup of Fruit Loops and all was right in the world. Well, in his world. I still feel like a big jerk.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Dress up day!

They played dress up at daycare today. This is Alex's partner in crime, Ryne. The two of them are nearly inseparable. She absolutely cracks me up. Hopefully I can continue to like the girls he likes. I doubt it, but I will try.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Oh Sugar!

The time has come. I have to alter the language I use when the beast can hear me. It's all rainbows and butterflies when he imitates me throwing my head back in laughter...not so much when he drops an f bomb.

Kari and I were in her living room with Trevor and Alex. Alex was climbing on me, the couch, the ottoman, the chair, and anything else that would hold still. During his adventures on the couch he accidentally knocked a pillow onto the floor. He looked down at it, and clear as day said, "Fuck." At least he used it at the right time. I mean I am not sure something as small as a pillow falling on the floor warrants that particular expletive, but all around good understanding of context.

So now here I am, trying to clean up my potty mouth. Suddenly, phrases like, Oh Sugar! or Oh Fudge! or Jimminy Crickets! or Son of a Biscuit! are running through my head. And all I can picture is my mom or one of my mom's friends using those phrases. It's funny, but each phrase is specific to a certain person in my memory. Son of a Biscuit was totally my mom. I am pretty sure she started using that one shortly after some magazines fell off a shelf and I looked at her and said "Son a bitch huh mom?"

I have realized though, using the nice versions of swear words...? Sooooo not the same. Sugar! just doesn't pack the same punch as Shit! And don't even get me started on how less than gratifying Oh Fudge! is.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Oh the horror!

I really wish Alex could explain to me why it is so horrendous having someone wipe his butt for him. He is too young for it to be humility, so what's the problem? Why why why must he throw a screaming, twisting, back-arching, foot-kicking, leg-wrestling fit? And furthermore, why is it only about every 4th diaper change? What's so horrid about those changes? Or, what's so not horrid about the other ones?

Happy Tuesday.

Friday, January 7, 2011


After re-reading my previous post, I feel the need to defend/justify my stupidity. The stupidity in that I am always the one to get up and deal with nighttime issues while my darling dear of a husband slumbers peacefully. Here we go...

When we first had Alex, Travis was working about an hour away from home. So not only was he driving around on country roads all day, he had to drive an hour there and an hour back. With all of that time behind the wheel, I did not want him losing sleep. Sleepy drivers are no good. Since I am merely driving a desk, I got up with the boy. Now, even though Travis is working closer to home, I have gotten so used to getting up, I immediately wake up when Alex is fussing. And conversely, Travis has gotten so used to not getting up, he doesn't wake up. At all. Ever.

A rational person would say that I should then wake him up and have him deal with whatever hyjinx are going on downstairs. But here's the problem...well a couple problems...

1. Even if I wake him up and he goes downstairs, I can still hear everything and I am stuck laying there awake, listening.
2. Trying to wake Travis up in the middle of the night is what I imagine it is like trying to wake a hibernating bear mid-January. It's beyond difficult, incredibly frustrating and all you end up with is a cranky bear. And you sitting there. Wide awake. Listening to a crying baby.

Good talk.


Last night was horrendous. Alex woke up and woke me up, which woke the dog up, 7 times. Notice Travis's name was not mentioned in the previous sentence. The one where I announced the kid woke the dog and me up SEVEN TIMES last night. Wanna take a stab at how many times Travis woke up? 0.5. And I am being generous with that. He gets the 0.5 because ONE of the times I came back to bed, he kinda-sorta-half-assed lifted his head and asked if Alex woke up because of the airplane flying over our house. Yes honey, that's it. Our child, the one that has slept through every other single airplane flying over our house, woke up in fits because of that one plane.

I don't know what the hell Alex's damage was last night, but good gravy. I am guessing it has something to do with that fact that he and one of the kids at daycare keep passing the same cold back and forth and he is insanely stuffed up, but holy shit man. Not only was he waking up, but he was waking up, standing up, turning on the light in his room, and throwing his blankets and nuk on the floor. And after all these tasks were accomplished, he would stand there, looking at the pile of blankets and nuk, crying/screaming/yelling/coughing. At which point, I would wake up, wait a bit for him to stop, get my butt out of bed and go downstairs, pick up his blankets, renuk the little spaz, turn off the light and go back to bed. After the third go 'round of this, I got so irritated, I duct taped his light switch in the off position.

I am getting better about letting him cry and figure out how to get himself back to sleep, but the blanket throwing thing got me. Am I supposed to let him cry until exhaustion and then freeze? 'Cause that seems above and beyond cruel.

At one point, I had been asleep for about 15 mins, and the dog sensed the danger of a rabbit crossing our driveway. So she let out an incredible alert bark montage. I bolted up in bed, Alex started crying, Travis snored. It was at the point I started yelling about hating my life and the fact that clearly nobody in our house gives a shit about my sanity. The response I got? "BARK BARK BARK CRY CRY CRY SNOOOOOOOOORE"

If you need me, I will be the one with half open blood shot eyes putting on a stellar performance at my job today.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Beaming with pride

One of the little girls in Alex's daycare room had to undergo Scoliosis surgery and has to be in a cast for 15 weeks. She spent the first 5 weeks at home, but is now back at daycare. I feel so bad for her and her whole family. It has been a horrible ordeal to endure, but she is doing super well.

Now, onto my beast child. Everyone is being uber careful with this little girl, obviously. Not my kid. How does my lovely child welcome her back? He runs into her with a toy shopping cart and knocks her over. Body cast and all. Yep. That happened.

I was so mortified when they told me yesterday I had absolutely no idea how to react. I just stared, mouth agape and was finally able to utter, "He did...what now?" Because, you know, it wasn't horrible enough hearing it once, let's have the teacher repeat how he acted like a crazy Christmas Eve Wal-Mart shopper.

Does CPS step in when you are clearly unable to raise a nice human? Feel free to pass along our name.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Feelin hot

So as I sat on the exam table at the doctor waiting for her to look over some moles and other skin ailments, I realized my socks were on inside out. I am 33 years old.

Once she was done digging out a couple "skin tags" from my armpit and bandaging me up like a wounded soldier, I was left alone to get dressed and make my way out. And that is when inside out socks became just a minuscule part of my day.

Why do they have to cover the exam table with that paper sheet? I mean I know why, but why can't they just throw some bleach on the table after each patient? I now have an issue with the paper sheet...

Having two skin tags gouged out of your armpit is not comfy. Scratch that, getting the numbing shots before the gouging is not comfy. And knowing that a doctor is removing a hunk of skin isn't the most settling. So I was uncomfortable. And kinda nervous. And in turn was sweating. And apparently sweating mostly from my butt area. So the doctor gets done with my armpit, I sit up, we chat, she leaves, I get down to get dressed and see a giant sweaty butt print on the paper. Awwwwwesome.

So I did what any mature adult with inside out socks and swamp ass would do. I threw the gown over the butt print and got outta there as fast as possible.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

The sads are no fun

I haven't written about this and I don't know why really...but here goes...

After I came back from California and was sad I couldn't stay on vacation forever and never have to face my life, two amazing friends stopped letting me fool myself and told me something was wrong and I should talk to someone. Preferably someone with a medical degree.

Up until that point, I had just been chalking my moods up to the craziness of having a baby in the house. But they made me stop and really think about how I had changed. Not how my life had changed, but how I had changed. I realized for the first time, things were not ok. I constantly felt like I was overwhelmed. Like all the time. The only way I could describe it is that I constantly felt like I couldn't handle my shit. Perfect example: Kari and Brent were over for dinner. My 2 responsibilities were to set the table and keep an eye on the asparagus roasting in the oven. And I could not do it. I got all tense and just couldn't do it. I used to run a bar and constantly corral a bunch of intoxicated people (some of which I was employing) for pete's sake, and there I was not able to conquer two incredibly easy tasks.

The other part of this not so little problem was how it was affecting Travis. He was constantly walking on eggshells at the house. He had no idea how I was going to react to anything not going according to some weird plan I had in my head. Oh, and I was nice enough to not verbally express that plan to anyone, much less to Travis. So he basically was living with a crazy person that would blame him for anything, and most likely everything. Yay for Travis!

Anywho, I listened to my two lovely friends, and I went to see a doctor. And, I know this is weird but, she was completely understanding, quick with a Kleenex, assuring that I am not the only one, and talked to me about what was going on and how to change it. And that is when Welbutrin entered my life.

I may or may not be on it forever, but I will tell you...right now? It really is helping me. I feel a lot more like "me" now. I can handle more than one thing at a time again and I am not ripping Trav's head off at every turn...just the turns he really has it coming. And I feel like I am a way better mom for Alex, which is a pretty good feeling.

This was brought to the forefront of my head after reading about yet another person having the oh-so-lovely baby blues. I am not really sure where I am going with all of this, but I do know one thing. I have incredible people in my life. It takes a brave and honest friend to tell you they think something is wrong with you in the brains. And I am damn lucky to have two of those brave and honest people I get to call my friends.

Monday, January 3, 2011

P.S.-Christmas and New Years and family gatherings and lots of beer and cheese and bread and cookies? Not so good for maintaining the -25lb mark.

I am not too far off, but I am not happy with the number my big ol' butt forced the scale to tell me this morning. Back to real life, back to work and back to Jillian. Yay.


Alex is talking with real words more than ever. I love it. He stills talks gibberish a ton. And I still love that. He seems to have picked up an odd accent though...

When he wants my attention, and I am in another room or not right next to him, he yells for me. But he yells, "maMA!" And when something surprises him, he yells, "Oohhh!"...but both in a weird Saturday-Night-Live-Jersey-Guido character accent.

I know this is shocking, but we find both quite funny and continually encourage him. We are incredible role models.