Archive Page 2
November 5th, 2009 by Alicia
In other Expenses We Totally Can’t Afford or Control news, one of our cats is sick. I don’t know WHY he’s sick or what to do to make him better, because although I thought that by throwing away over two hundred bucks at the vet for antibiotics and bloodwork and an x-ray and whatever else, we might get an answer – apparently that isn’t the case. Nope. Looks like you can do that and still be at square one, which involves the cat hiding out under the couch and leaving regurgitated stomach bile in random spots around the house.
It’s been fun, can’t you tell?
And of course, leave it to my kids to put things into perspective. I asked each boy what he was thankful for, expecting the typical Mommy Daddy Grandma House answer.
Wrong.
Sawyer is thankful for “quesadillas, balloons and dandelions that float in the air.” While Beckett’s list wasn’t quite as whimsical or profound (eating food, crackers, burgers and dinner), it too left me refreshed and a little less gloom and doom.
Like, really, how can you be depressed when there is a plant right outside in your front yard that, with a simple breath, sends dozens of tiny magical puffs of awesomeness floating into the sky? You can’t, mom. Now make yourself a dang caysa-dilla and get happy.
So. My thankful list this week? Cheap mailboxes at Menards. Cool neighbors. No cavities. An extra third bathroom to contain a pukey cat. Burger King’s cupcake shake (you sweet, sinful thing, you).
And also, indoor cats that don’t eat a mouse and then hurl it back up, whole, on my basement floor. (Sorry about that, Mom.)
Yeah, it could be worse.
November 1st, 2009 by Alicia
Costumes were a hit, trick-or-treating was a success, loads of candy that will mostly be eaten by me was procured.
They looked freakin’ cute.
And, the neighborhood assholes teenagers left us a lovely “trick.” How adorable of them.
And the community we live in? Why, it’s so fabulous that not only will the homeowners association (which we pay a ridiculous amount in fees to) NOT cover the repair costs, they will also drive by and give us a ticket and a fine if we don’t have it fixed immediately. Welcome to suburbia!
October 29th, 2009 by Alicia
This parenting thing. It’s hard. Like, really hard.
You have this tiny little baby. All it does is poop and eat and sleep and it likes to wake up a lot at night and cry for no reason and keep you from taking a shower, like, ever. And you think, man, this is hard.
Then they get a little bigger. And there’s teething, and becoming mobile, and figuring out how to feed the thing and the begging and pleading to sleep through the night just once. Just please go to sleep. And sometimes you think, I can’t wait until this kid is older. This is hard.
But the potty training. Ditching the crib. Terrible twos. Tantrums. Back-talking. Injuries. Wait a second. When does this start getting easier?
It doesn’t. Four years in and it hasn’t gotten easier. Different, more challenging predicaments await each new year. And from what I’ve heard, it just keeps getting harder and harder (as the parents of teens like to smugly remind me every chance they get).
I feel intimidated a lot of the time. Inadequate. Not worthy of being in charge of another human being (or 3!) and making sure they learn to choose the right paths.
Most recently, we’ve been learning that the way we parent (or don’t parent) has a huge, giant, I’m talking ENORMOUS impact on our 4-year-old’s mental and emotional well-being. Simple things, like absentmindedly rattling off one too many “just a minute, son”s and out of nowhere you’ve got a kid crapping on the floor for attention. Yes, again. Still. Whatever.
But really, this isn’t going to be another poop post. Just an example, albeit kind of a disjointed one, of how this. Is. HARD. When we first brought home that teeny little bundle, sat in our living room and asked each other, So what do we do with it now? we weren’t thinking about how four, five, six years down the road we’d have to worry about something much more complex than the color of his poop or how many jars of baby food he should be eating per day.
It seems like it should be a given – pop out a kid, hope to all the deities than you don’t mess it up too horribly. And maybe I was just incredibly naive back then. But tonight was my first real, true HOLY SHIT, WHAT IF I SCREW HIM UP FOR LIFE? moment.
It’s scary.
Because he’s a really cool, intelligent, loving kid. And god, I really hope I don’t screw him up. If I can accomplish that, then I’ve succeeded in life.
October 28th, 2009 by Alicia
October 25th, 2009 by Alicia
Avonlea, Miss Avonlea. What an interesting month it has been. When we left off one month ago, you were the picture perfect baby who was sleeping eight hours straight at night and never uttered so much as a whimper. Um, that’s changed slightly. You’ve come out of your shell and aren’t quite as timid, which means you don’t hesitate to voice your opinion once in awhile. (That’s putting it nicely – what I really mean is that sometimes you scream at me. Loudly. And sometimes it makes mama crazy. But I still love you. Plus, it’s good birth control.)
This has been the month of whacked out sleep patterns. That whole drifting softly off to sleep on your own thing? Yeah, not so much. You’re not real fond of being laid down awake any more. And we’ve had several nights where you decided to scream at the top of your lungs for no logical reason. For a real long time. And, if I’m being truthful, a couple nights where Daddy slept on the living room floor next to your swing because the swinging was the only thing that kept you asleep for more than 30 minutes. And that’s all I’ll say about sleep, because the jinxing? Do not want.
All things considered though, you’re still an easy baby – easy to soothe, easy to entertain, easy to travel with. Oh yes. You’re extremely portable and it is FAB-YOU-LOUSSSS. I remember having to meticulously plan even the simplest trips with your brother because after an hour he was spent and wasn’t afraid to let everyone in a 2-mile radius know about it. Your motto? Have Boobs, Will Travel.
You’re still a tiny little thing in my eyes, holding steady at around 12 and a half pounds. You seem huge next to your brand new 8-pound cousin, but you’re not even close to touching the 18 pounds your brother boasted at three months old. Yeah, you’re teeny. And I’m enjoying it. So is my back.
Milestones? Eh. You tolerate tummy time. You don’t really roll. Which is fine with me because the thought of teaching your brothers what baby-proofing means? Yeah, terrifying. Stay immobile for as long as you want. You are feeling much more solid and love to do these cute little ab crunches when you’re laying on your back, which we’ve taken to mean SIT ME UP NOW PLEASE THANKS. You can easily pull up to standing while holding onto our hands and that’s pretty much the coolest thing ever in my world right now.
The Battle of the Flat Spot looks to slowly be leaning in our favor. It’s still definitely there, camping out on the right side of your head, but I think it’s getting more round and less noticeable. Which is awesome because I’m totally not down with having to strap a helmet onto your head for three months. We’ve been trying to keep you upright and off the flatness by letting you hop around in a Jumperoo, which you freakin’ LOVE. Seriously best money ever spent with all three kids. We heart Fisher Price around these parts.
You’re still a smiling machine, of course. And the dimple. The DIMPLE. It’s still melting me into a puddle of rainbows and sparklies. LOVE that perfect little dimple and those amazing blue eyes. Gorgeous. Yeah, so I’m biased. But you are.
In summary, you’re continuing to be pretty stinkin’ awesome, babygirl. I think we’ll keep you.
Love,
Mama
