Playdatessssssss

I am the first to tell you I really don’t ‘do’ other peoples kids. I’ve never liked kids, and will sound contradictory here, but I LOVED being a kid. I loved my friends as a kid. But maybe because when I was young and tried to baby sit NO ONE would listen to me. I HATED telling other peoples kids what to do. They weren’t my people, and they could smell the fear in me.

Thus I never baby sat after that ONE time. In my 20’s some of my friends had kids already. NOW only ONE of my friends had her son VERY well behaved, and sadly at that time in our lives she lived far, and we didn’t communicate like we do now. (she would be the friend that taught me that whining is NOT a form of language that people understand) That leaves my other friends with kids. Sigh. They weren’t bad parents, but they could have been much better. I tried not to judge, since I had no kids of my own.

NOW I’ve got my own 5 year old and 3 year old, and I loves them. I do. They are fun, and creative, and remind me to be silly, and slow down. BUT they whine and fight, and drive me nuts. SO play dates (the point of the blog post only 3 paragraphs in!) frighten me.

BIG deep breath… and then Bagel went to Preschool. I was scared. What if I didn’t like the other mommies? What if they were cliquey? What if ALL the other kids did events all summer prior and ONLY my kid didn’t?!

Well needless to say, I was silly. I made friends fast, by forcing everyone to talk to me each morning. We never did play dates, since we all saw each other 3 days a week. But with the end of school nearing, I was brave and at graduation I asked for names and phone numbers (some FB accounts too) I was planning Bagel’s 5th Birthday Party and was going to invite… OTHER PEOPLE’S kids. GASP!!

Long story short, it was awesome, she had 4 girlfriends show up, and it was perfect. I insisted that my mom, the Queen attend so I was not alone. And I survived. SO did the kids.

Now that the big birthday bash is over, and summer is underway, I’ve had playdates with one mom and her kids, and even to my surprise her son is Bagel’s age, and all the kids still get along. (not sure why I thought they wouldn’t)

Lets get to the neighborhood kids. The little girl behind us is cute, she’s feisty, and a bit crazy. BUT she and Bagel will be riding the bus together, and going to school together in the fall. And then there is XTina’s girls. OMG they are too cute, sweet, and just the right age, PLUS XTina and I went to H.S. together, and have mutual friends. Perfect.

As for today I’m excited to have NO play dates. Sigh, Wednesday I had 2… two… TWO play dates in a day. OMG. THEN Thursday I had another? And ran into more preschool mommy friends? And I have TWO birthday parties, KIDS parties at that, this weekend… I’m doing better.

I’m starting to like this ‘Mommy socializing’ thing. It’s good for me. It’s good for the kids. And it’s definatly a growing experience for me. Some people are made to love kids, and socialize with other peoples kids. I just need to warm up to the idea… well warm I am, and I can handle it.

Now in the words of Bagel “MOM, seriously? ANOTHER day at the park with friends?! Can’t we just hang out in the art room, JUST us?” She is SO her mommy and daddy.

Happy Friday, and Happy play dates to all of you!

Feisty

It’s official. I’m an adult.

 

Here’s the background on that… Once upon a time, Spaghetti and I were engaged to be married. In that time we agreed on this.

“We will NEVER grow up. We WILL do adult things, like pay bills, buy a house, care for children. BUT in that process even though we LOOK like adults, we will NOT grow up. Promise?”

I even painted a cartoon of us on this conversation. (I should scan that into the computer…) But the ‘official’ part comes with realizing these things…

 

1. I’m excited that today is day 3 of waking, on my own, at 6:30 am. As a result going to bed at no later then 10:30 pm. AND so the washer/dryer already running, coffee is half drank, dogs fed, best part. I got an hour by myself this morning!

2. My girlfriend time, is either on Facebook chat, or phone with my BFF. (I should work on that, I DO need more in real life friend time)

3. I look forward to a crazy breakfast of  an almost 5 year old girl telling her brother how to eat, but all he wants to do is hold his Wuzzy Bear and suck his thumb.

 

 

4. The big event of the week is on Wednesday’s and it’s my daughters Jazz Lyrical class. (see her at the end of the line. See Weaky in stroller (yes in his footies) dancing along.)

5. The most comparable thing I have to a hang over is ‘OMG I stayed up till after midnight, watching a movie, AND had junk food! I am insane! That can’t happen again! I’ll need to sleep till at least 8:00 am to function!!’

 

6. My husbands getting dressed and going out, is to play tug of war with the dogs for 30 minutes in the snow.

 

 

7. We have painted the VERY bright and playful blue bathroom grey, now with accents of red and black.

And NOW are in the process of selling Spaghetti’s pool table, to turn the BIGGEST room in the house, the room that is right off the kitchen, the ‘Sports room’, the brick RED room, with FULL size pool table, and TONS of sports memorabilia, into a comfortable t.v. room for the WHOLE family. (In my defense against changing this room, we have NOT played pool at this table since May 2010!!) While planning the room change, Spaghetti sighed, looked at me and said… “Don’t tell anyone this. But we are becoming more and more like grown ups.” Sigh. We are. But I’m almost enjoying it.

8. I drink my coffee black.

That right there should say enough. I used to drink a cup of sugar with a bit of coffee. Not kidding. 4 TABLESPOONS of sugar to a CUP of coffee?! Went black. Cold turkey, dropped 5 lbs REAL fast. Now to find a way to drop the other 30 lbs. real fast.

9. Planning for retirement is something we’ve been working on for 12 years already. Not kidding. The 401K hotline is on speed dial in Spaghetti’s phone, checking it at least once every two weeks.

AND the number 10 reason why I’m officially an adult…

10. This weekend is my BFF’s sisters birthday. Now each year they go all out. As in ALL out. Get hair did, shop all day one day, go to Chicago, stay in a fancy pants hotel for a few days, see the city, drink fruffy drinks, go to clubs. It’s a 3 day, sometimes more event.

Sounds awesome. And not to poo poo it, cuz I’d go if it was me. But for years I was happy for them, but that tiny pang of “I’d have to take out a small loan, get a baby sitter, and some one would have to pry these pajama/yoga pants and my favorite Glee T-shirt away from me and I think I have a pair of heels around here somewhere.” it was a thing where I was ecstatic that my BFF was getting an awesome weekend away, and bonding with her sister. (I did get to attend once at dinner via drunk dial by them. THAT was funny)

But it was never a jealous thing, more of a it would take a small army to get me to be able to go out. And I was wishing I could do that.

Now you ask? I’m ecstatic that they are out, having a blast but I’d rather stay in. I enjoy my family, my kids, and a hot weekend for me away from my family? Would be a 2 night, 3 day crop. Where I drag ALL my scrapbook supplies to a place that is designed for nothing but scrapbookers. I would eat, sleep (maybe) and scrapbook. I would spend the time away from my family, scrapbooking my family!

And now that pang of ‘I wish I could do that’ is gone. Elated they are having a great time. But at the age of 32 1/2 I’m good right now. (and yes I still say 1/2, I’m saying I’m an adult, not a grown up)

I’m good with home. Kids. Husband. Pets. Reality t.v.

Dance class is my big event. My social life is Survivor, Amazing Race, Real World, Bachelor, Grey’s, Storage Wars and Jersey Shore. And I love it.

So it’s official. I am an… Adult.

(one feisty, unconventional, silly, sometimes childish, and ridiculously goofy adult)

FeIsTy

Depression was real. I just didn't see it.

Once upon a time I was happy, SO happy that I was nicknamed Smiley, Happy, and Crazy Girl. I was known for being "High On Life" (my mom taught me that one) and I was always energetic.

I married Spaghetti, in June of 2001, and that is who he fell in love with. The over happy, always optomistic, glass half full girl.

And I stayed happy, and smiley, and energetic from July 19th, 1978 until October 2005. After 27 years of smiles and giggles I was sad, tired, and well pregnant.

Being pregnant with Bagel I read everything there was on babies, being a mom and the life changing events that go with. I even read on this "Postpartum" thing, I didn't think I would get it but I skimed over the stories, comments, thoughts, and get help numbers in the books and magazines.

I had Bagel and even though Spaghetti took time off work, the one week he took, only lasted the 4 days in the hospital, and then a few days at home, and then I was left with her. The baby. I was fine. I had her natural (natural as in vajaja style, not as in no epidural style. Smoke more crack if you think I was going that route. HA!) so I tore from hole A. to hole B. it took doc 23 minutes to sew me up and the pain meds wore off. AND yes I felt ALL 4 pain shots she gave me in the non existing taint to numb before she sewed me back together, anyway you get the point, epidural great for child birth. afterwards not so great, the whole stitches in your nether regions.

 Let's just say I was in pain and SO glad they don't MAKE you poop before you leave the hospital, anymore. It took me 2 more days after she came home to drop a duce. I was scared to pop a stitch. You get where I'm going? Pain. Meds. Baby. DH back to work in what seemed like only hours since Bagel had been born.

Spaghetti worked grave yard at his full time job. He would leave the house at 9:30 pm and be home around 6:30 am, he then would sleep what he could but if he had to open the video store at 9:00 am till mid afternoon, and then sleep again till he worked nights. Again. The sick cycle of that work shift was from April till October he also works at Wrigley Field, yes Chicago Cubs. He's a beer vendor, and that was on days he wasn't at the video store, and could work before grave yard shift started. Needless to say, he was one tired mother fucker.

So there's me. And this baby girl. I had it togther. And I knew that I had to because Spaghetti was working. At times I felt like a single mom (even though I give props to them. BY far. Trying to bring in income, AND raise kids. AND some are going to school? Applause.) I did everything with her, and for her. I often remember telling peopel, even Spaghetti at times "I don't need anyone, I can do it by myself" I didn't want help, or his Aunts to get me videos on postpartum shit. GAH! I was fine on my own. I had this.

The summer passed, and that fall I think I officially went nuts, and in the events of one to many CIO sessions, I dyed my platnium blonde hair.

Jet Black. More like "Chocolate Velvet" was the box name for it.

Yes. Black.

I rocked it. And when people asked why. I said because children make you do crazy ballsy things.

Fast forward to Bagel at 14 months. Bam. Pregnant with Weaky.

I wanted it this way, and lucky that I got it that way. I wanted kids close in age. Two was the amount of children, and I wanted them close. Not like 12 months close, but close so I wasn't pregnant for a decade.

When I was pregnant with Weaky, I remember Aerial and Spaghetti commenting on how they don't even remember me NOT being pregnant between kids. Honestly? Me neither.

Still with me?

Let's recap just cuz I still got a LOT of shit to say.

There's me. Crazy lady (oh and note, my hair is back to blonde by the time Weaky came around. LOTS of dying. LOTS)

There's also the unmentioned, but if you know me and my family I have 4 other children. They are covered in fur. Maggie and Sophie, our Boxers

And then my two cats, Jordan and Chloe,

So note that I am a glutton for punishment with all the pet hair, barfing, and pissing around the house. Let's just add human babies to it.

Right so then we have sleeping Spaghetti still working 3 jobs...

And now we have Weaky.

So now I have my hands full

Two under two was pure crazy.

So crazy that I went from blonde. to black. to blonde to this...

(yes it's a mohawk, and the pillowcase shirt isn't because of crazies, but because I was in need of NKOTB wear for the concert, and that was what I had. And so I made a shirt of it)

It's gotten better. But for A LONG time it wasn't good.

I was sure I had post partum but confused at how severe mine was.

I found letters that I had written to Spaghetti when I was crazy, yes I had to write my husband letteres because the time we had together was never enough for me to babble two pages of random jibberish to him.

So I wanted to share them with you.

Seriously this is big. Because one of the first things I say in the note is that I didn't want to blog it, becuase it would freak people out. Now that I'm better. Or in a better place, I feel I can share this with you...

So Bagel and I are sitting @ breakfast I thought I would write you whats in my head. I would blog on it, but I don't want to freak people out.

I miss you. I know you miss me. I know we need the money, so that is why you work so much.

RIght now the only thing that makes me un-sad is you. I get angry at you because your not here, but I know you do it because you love us, and to support us. But I still get angry because I want you around more.

I know family and friends want to help us but right now, I don't want any help from anyone but you. As crazy as it sounds to deny help. In my head right now you and me are what can help me.

I need alot of positive thoughts. I know you hate when I say "tell me something" line, but I think that will be the best thing to get me through rough days. I hope this goes away soon.

I want to be mentally ok, I am trying myself, but there are moments I just litterly lose my mind. I can not be sad. I can not get angry. These are when I need you. When I just cry for no reason. I need you. When I am angry please don't walk away, this is when I need a hug most.

This may be a selfish note. But at this stage of me, with my moods up and down so much, much that I can't control. I need to let you know what I need and what we can do together to make me better.

So fi you think I need it or not, I probably need a hug, or an "I love you" or just a comment on what you love about me.

Physically I am heling fast. My back and my stitches get sore still, but I am glad to be just on Alieve for pain.

But mentally I am not good. I am afraid when I cry or get angry or sad. I can't control them. I can't stop them. I want to, but it's just something that takes over me. And right now you seem to be my cure.

I hope this note helps you understand what we both don't.

I need you, I am trying to be storng, it's so hard and when the whole house is going at once (Bagel screaming, Weaky crying, dogs barking) It just pushes me to the crazy point of just pure ANGER or depression. It's like a sadness washes over me, and I can't function.

I won't ever hurt Weaky, Mia or the fuzzies. Ever.

I may seem crazy upset, butthe worst thing that I do is just put them down, and remove myself from the situation.

I don't think I could hurt myself, I'm not a big fan of pain. I just... I don't know... I guess I am done rambling.

I hope you can help me. I am not sure what else could. I need you Spaghetti, more then ever. I need you. Alot.

If you could please look in my eyes and tell me with out speaking you love me.

And please don't tell anyone about me being like this. I am not porud of this "me" And I am serious about al this... I do need help. Thanks.

Love you, Feisty.

This  note was written about a year ago. I stayed crazy, or in that sad mode of depression and shut down. Until the fall. I really started to get out of it. And just as recent as Weaky's 2nd birthday, April 25th, I finally felt normal. Sure if you were family, or a friend. I hid it well. I think it's a fantastic trait I learned from being a super multitasking mom, just toss it in with my skills.

Like the baby years were done. All done. Now onto talking, and independance. Sure I've still got diapers, but it's getting better. I feel like my head has been cleared, and I am more "me" again.

Oh and Spaghetti's reaction to my note? He tried. But after our talk today I realized he just thought I was stressed about the whole, everything. And that I was just having a lot of bad days. I guess 4 years worth of bad days is obvious to some, and not to others. (said others were busy working 70 hour weeks)

If you don't know how I feel about kids, check out this post on my dislike for children.

And this post covers me durring postpartum

So that brings us to the current day. Note I did have a freak out moment, cause of to much of Spaghetti at work, to much whiney kids, and so I just covered my ears, and ran to my art room. I told Spaghetti to sit with the kids and give me 20 minutes to calm down. It took me 14 minutes to calm myself, and go back to my kids, which is great it before it would take me up to a hour.

But since then. I'm fine. I talked with Spaghetti today, and we discussed my crazy postpartum. The only thing I asked him was this

"Do you believe I had postpartum depression?" I asked. He looked at me, and as the tears ran down my face he said "Yes" I NEEDED him to say that. And he said he thought I was "Stressed alot" and he was scared I would never get out of it, and be me again.

I told him so was I.

Reading my notes, well it's an eye opener. That they weren't kidding in the brochures that you should call them if you have any signs of depression. I had more of a "Super Mom" complex going on. I didn't need help. But secretly I did but from ONLY Spaghetti.

I did blog once on it. I think I freaked some people out with it though. And I must say I am very glad that my children won't remember their insane mommy. Just the silly carefree mommy, that still yells, and is the bad guy around here. But not is a creepy sad mommy way.

But I feel better now. Don't get me wrong, the crazy children are still here, and so are ALL the fuzzy pets. But I've got a better hold on everything. Down to planning meals, doing laundry, and attempting to just be me. It's like I had a fog of sadness over me, and now the fog is gone. My head is clearer, and I can see outside of my crazy 4 walls.

If you did read all this, please just leave me a comment. I need them.

What is in Weaky's diaper, mom?

While changing Weaky's diaper, Bagel walks over. Looking confused she (finally) asks me,

"Mom, what is that in Weaky's diaper?"

I wasn't surprised, knowing this was coming, and actually surprised it wasn't sooner, I told her it was Weaky's weenie.

She said "ok, I'm going to go play now"

So what do you call it? For a boy? What do you call girl parts? So far Bagel just calls it all her butt.

Walking Weaky Men

Enjoy history in the making. Weaky man took not only his first steps today, but alot of them. We would have him walk from the hall to the couch and back, about 15 feet. It was so great for Spaghetti and me to both be present for this!

At 15 1/2 months old, I wasn't worried, but we weren't not trying to get him to walk at every chance. This was Tuesday the 11th of August when he first walked.

Now not even a week later, he will just get up and walk to where he wants to go! I am so excited to have my little man walking! Congrats Weaky! Love you!!


This my devoted readers is the handsomest little man I have ever seen!

I mean can you resist the Frankenstein walk?

He was SO proud of himself walking today, he would clap and yell just like we would.

Spaghetti and Bagel cheering him on...

AAAAaaaaa!!! A thumbs up from Daddy and Weaky! (I know, D, not a high 5)

Opperation Attic now renamed Opperation Insanity

I have decided (yesterday) to clean out, purge and organize my attic space.

Now let me explain to you what my attic space is. It is the storage above my garage, and in front of Weaky's room. The trap door to get there was in the garage. You needed a 8 foot ladder just to get up there and don't even think about storing anything useful up there.

Pain in the ass.

So I became all genius like (momentarily) and asked my ever so handy father, Carrots, to cut a hole in Weaky's wall (in his closet) and create a door to this attic space. Then covering the original trap door in the floor. Hope that explained it is not over the house, yet is still attic like.

Attic like as in there is NO air flow, so the fact that I chose the end of July on a 80 degree day to do it, and with my 3 year old and my 15 month old is just retarded.

BUT I am getting somewhere. I have purged, organized, and am organizing the toys. Thank god when the Queen (my mom) gave me all my hand me down toys (bins, and bins, and bins full) she had them all labeled and in nice bins. Fabulous! So I rearranged them by age. Burring the barbie houses for now, and pulling out the care bears and Nerfuls (see below)

I also have the fisher price main street with all the cars and people out.

I am leaving the Barbies, Thundercats, Precious Places, O'Jenny, Sulvanians, and god only know what else to when the kids get older.

It is quite the toy shuffle, and dragging ALL the bags of baby clothes out, only makes me cringe at the thought of having to go through them. Ugg.

Thank god it's all on the second floor and not on the first. (Spaghetti is having a friend over for dinner. And this project will SO not be even near clean) I am hoping after dinner, the boys will go to the basement media room, and leave me be.

It also doesn't help that Weaky's room is the only way into this attic space. And since he is teething, he naps for HOURS, great for me, but bad for progress.

So I do have a question for you all. Please answer, even you lurkers should participate...

Q. How many different places in your house do you have toys? Is it one general room? Or each child's bedroom?

Thanks for your input. For now Weaky is napping, so Operation Attic is halted. Stay tuned for more exciting toy organizing new.

Potty Trainee

Potty training is better.

Like knock on wood, not sure what I am doing right, but it is working better.

She goes both pee and poop on the potty chair. About 98% of the time.

We ask, and she goes. She can go for HOURS with out going, which I guess is normal.

She wears only big girl underwear. No pullups, unless it will be a long car ride (haven't done that yet)

I do believe that 3 was my magic number. Either that or the fact that I let her wear just underwear, 3D glasses and Happy Meal boxes all day.

Manic Mondays. Vanilla, Super Why, and Jon & Kate...

It's been a while, so why not take t he last 3 Mondays in June to do some Manic Monday's...


Do you usually wear perfume/cologne? If so, what's your current favorite?
Yes I do. I love Happy or Happy Heart by Clinique, but my everyday is Vanilla Vanilla by Body Shop


What's the last book you've read that you thought was really good? If you don't have one, what looks promising on your to-be-read list?
Breaking Dawn, and with that you can include, Twilight, New Moon, and Eclipse! LOVE them!


Fill in the blank: I wouldn't be caught dead _________.
Pretending to be some one else, just to fit in. I did that once. I realized that you either love me or hate me.

What is the last song that was stuck in your head and how did you get rid of it?
Super Why! Theme song. Still there. Even though Bagel is to young for all the reading, and letters, she still loves the show. It's cute. But I love Word World better.

If you had to say what one thing in your life best represents your freedom, what would it be?
My ability to be a SAHM. I mean sure from my side it's more like prison on days. But that is because I am jealous of all the parents who can drop their kids off at day care, and go stare at a computer for hours, while someone else wipes butts, and deals with ENDLESS whining. But on the other hand I get to be the one to see all the firsts, and what job lets you drink coffee, with your kids while hanging out in the pool? All day?


If you were invited to the White House for dinner tonight, what would you wear from your current wardrobe?
Probably my black $12 strapless Target dress. It goes past my knees, and is very nice. My other two dresses are more Marilyn Monroe-ish. Yah know, tie around the neck, and the clevage-a-showin. Not so White House-ish.

If you joined the circus, what act would you most want to perform?
Barker. Yep. I thought about it. I would like to sell tickets, and yell at people. Fun.

Would you generally be overdressed or underdressed at a party?
Over dressed. Even though I am more casual of a person, Spaghetti and I still dress up more for an event when we don't realize how chillax it will be.


Do you feel that children should be sheltered from unhappiness?
This is interesting. Since I JUST finished watching Jon & Kate plus 8, and it was the "separation" announcement.
I think the children should see as little arguing as possible. I think that you shouldn't pretend to like someone if you don't.
Like today Spaghetti and I just DID not get along. So we don't scream and fight, we just do our thing with the kids, kinda around each other. So no, I don't want to shelter them, because fighting happens, it's real life. But at 3 and 1 they don't need a full dose of reality. Not just yet.


What's something that people do in traffic that really annoys you?
Just one something? Because there is SO many.

Let's discuss traffic. I am a 3rd lane user. The FAR LEFT lane to be exact.

If the speed limit is 65 I will drive approx 73-75 mph. If you FLY up my ass I will NOT move over fast for you. If you are approaching me, and I can get over I will.

Please DO NOT drive in my lane if you are choosing to drive UNDER 70. It makes NO sense. MOVE. OVER.

I am aggressive. IF I need to get over, lets say to turn, and it's a busy day, and I put on my blinker and start moving in. I WILL GET IN. It is not a question. It is what I am doing. MOVE.

Oh and the best one. Merging.

I have always been good about merging early. And by my house the road goes from 4 lanes to 2 lanes. I am in the lane prior to the light. So when we go through the light, I am already where I need to be.

DO NOT. DO NOT attempt to pass me. Sure if your in a mustang and there is NO one in front of me, odds are pretty good that you can pass me. Go to town.

BUT if we are all in a line. And you and your snotty nose Escalade, attempt to do the above "blinker on and move over" move. You can bet your ass, you are NOT getting in. AT ALL.

Yep, you just gave me the finger. And yep, I know you live in McSnobly Subdivision right before mine.



Well now I feel better. Thanks.

Pee Pee and Poo Poo

Potty Training: Day 3

This is insanity.



I repeat. Insanity.



BUT she is NOT holding it in for 3 days, like she has done in the past. SO I consider any effort to pee either on the potty chair or on the floor as progress.


BUT while trying to potty train, I still must attend to the almost 14 month old crazy man, we call Weaky.


I swear I asked Bagel if she had to pee, a zillion times prior to me going up to get Weaky from his nap. No? You sure? Try one more time? Ok, I will be RIGHT BACK.


So I go up the stairs, to get Weaky, I can hear him in his crib, talking to his toys. I walk into... a nudist. Poopie diaper has been removed and when I walk into the room it is tossed over the rail to the floor.


The boy is covered like camouflage paint with poop. In his hair, streaks on his face, legs, and chest. (thank god he threw his toys out before the smearing began)


Then while my mouth is still agape, the little guy smiles at me with all 5 of his little teeth, does the crazy baby head shake (we all have seen it)

Then, he stands up to the rail, sticks his little weenie out the bars and pees on the carpet!!!


What!?!?!?!


I shit you not, while all the poopie diaper flinging, crazy head shaking, and random carpet watering is going on, Bagel is down stairs screaming...


"I HAVE TO PEE!! EEEEEEEEEE!!!!!"



Jeez o' Pete, really?! Right now? Well at least Weaky is contained, and he can't really make to much more of a mess can he? So I BOLT down the stairs to see Bagel next to the potty chair peeing on the floor.


... sigh...



Yep that was just a few minutes into the wonderful world of this SAHM. Thanks kids. Believe me that is first date material right there. Now I just need to scrapbook it to make it complete.

CHEESE!

Yesterday I took my kids to get there pictures done. Babies R' us has a studio called Kiddie Kandids, they always do a great job. My mom the Queen and my sister Frances paid for ALL the pictures. (very thankful!!)

I was stressed Friday night about getting us all to have coordinating colors. I went with Weaky's T'shirt, and went from there. Bagel wore that dress for his first birthday party, and a brown shirt for me. I knew they had the meadow background, and the fun 3 level log they are sitting on.

AND I was smart. Fed everyone, kept them happy (even though the Babies R us we were going to was 45 minutes away!)

The picture lady made claw shapes with her hands. Wiggled her fingers. And said IIIIII'm gunnagetchoo!! In a high pitched voice. And wala! You get happy face kids for pictures!

I was rotating people in and out SO fast. I knew happy would only last so long. And we needed just the kids together, then just Weaky, just Bagel, just the kids and Frances, and just the kids and me. Did you get all that? Yes there are more pictures. I will share them. I want to space them out. Yaknow milk the project.

So Happy 1st birthday pictures to Weaky, and Happy 3rd Birthday to Bagel! Muah!!

More then my life,

Mommy

Mommy. I'm leaving you.

Last night as I was trying to watch Survivor, and Bagel and Weaky are STILL up (I so try on my show nights to have the children tucked into their beds and fast asleep but no such luck, let me just tell you they were both up well into the Grey's final episode too!)

So as Bagel is loading up her back pack with all her favoritest toys. I am doing a bunch of "mmhmm's" and "uuuhhh's" to her telling me about the toys. (I was really distracted by Coach's insane babbling on Survivor, and hoping he would GO home!!)

Finally Bagel looks at me and says "Mommy. I'm leaving you"

Alright, those are words to get anyone's attention. I look at her and ask "Where are you going."

Bagel points to her overstuffed backpack, and then says "School."

"Right now?" I asked.

"Yep. Go get me a bus. A big yellow one. And then the door will open. I will go up the stairs, say "hello bus driver" then go find a seat. And I will say "sit by me friends". And we will go to school"

Right now my heart is in my throat. I am excited that she want to grow up, but SO fast! Hold on Tonto! I ask her if she would sit by the window and wave at me.

She says "Yes mommy. I will wave two hands fast at you. Then you stay in the garage with Weaky, and you wait for me to come home." Then she added. "I need to get more toys. I need lots of them for school. When will the bus be here? I have to go now." She was very upset that the bus wouldn't be here till morning again. (it was 7:40 at night)

I told her I would miss her. I got a "mmmhhmm" in return.

Sigh. I didn't know 3 was the big girl age. I think preschool will be harder on me then on her. That's a good thing right? Well I have till fall of 2010 to prepare myself. And her.

1 year to forever

A year ago... 3 weeks ago...

How you grew my little man. Your getting bigger, and stronger, your learning to sign eat, and you clap when you do good. You point and grunt when you want things. Your learning to become more and more independent.

You still cling to me when ever you can, and I love being "that person," your person, your mommy. I love every minute of it. I can't wait for the rest of our life together, to watch you grow, explore and learn this world of ours.

I want to be right along side you for your journey. I hope you tell me every detail of your life. I hope you never get sick of me asking for more details. I want you to be a big strong guy, but one who still calls his mom every day to just say hi.

I love you. More then my life.

Mommy

Motherhood

MoThErHoOd

Motherhood is not for sissies.

Motherhood is not for women

with weak stomachs,

strict routines,

or wall-to-wall white carpeting.

Motherhood is not for women

unable to juggle three things at once,

read between the lines,

or face fear on a regular basis.

Motherhood is not for women

too quick to use the word "impossible,"

or too hesitant to say "yes, you can."

Motherhood is not for women

who refuse to believe in miracles,

or tomorrow, or themselves.

Motherhood is for

the caring and courageous women

who make a difference

in the lives they touch-

women just like you.

Happy Mother's Day

To all of you bloggy mom's.

You rock.

Enjoy YOUR day.

(copied from an American Greetings card)

Cystic Fibrosis results are in

It was a long day. Hell it's been a long week. Garage's Sales, picking up the kids, going to Chicago, Weaky's DOC band, Spaghetti at Wrigley, then Bagel going to the hospital, Family visiting, and of coarse Weaky's CF testing.


Testing was a pain. Weird too.


The hospital was great. It was just for Children, and everyone was really nice. Weaky's test involved cleaning his arm, setting gauze onto it. (one on the forearm and one on his lower arm)Then these little copper rectangles set over each piece of gauze.


She then hooked the copper pieces up to a box with wires on it. Like a car battery. She said it would feel like when your leg is asleep, the uncomfortable tingly feeling. That was for 5 minutes, and yes I had to hold him in my lap for it. Afterwards she removed the gauze and copper plates, and only on the lower arm, she had a solution to make him sweat, but it was cold, and she said it would sooth the tingly-ness then she placed new gauze. And wrapped his arm with this shrink wrap type stuff. To trap the sweat.


Then we did the other arm the same. A whole new 5 minutes of tingly torture. (thank god he won't remember any of this. But it did keep Bagel in check, she had the "deer in headlights" look going on the whole time. In fear that she was next)


After we went to the waiting room, now we had to wait for 30 minute for the sweat to collect under the shrinky wrap. Once one of the arms were free, they put a bag on him to collect a urine sample, then draw a vile of blood (I made Spaghetti go in with him for that. I was maxed out on my kids blood for the week) The blood is to test for Anemia.


She told us that they would have the results by 2:30 that day! At 2:30:01 we called Dr. B to get the results...


Negative. Phew. Breathe. Cry. Fist bump Spaghetti. Go kiss your boy.


We have to wait for the Anemia test, and whatever the Doc wanted with my kids urine, those had to be sent out. We are just happy to know the results of the CF.


Oh and in other Weaky news. At the DOC band appointment on Monday, the therapist told us that we only had 2 weeks left of the band! Hoo-fucking-ray!! I can NOT wait to set him free of that! He never notices its on his head. But with the warmer weather he sweats SO much! So May 19th is his last day!


I just have to say I make tiny babies, with big heads, that's all! Thanks again to all my friends and family who sent good wishes our way for Weaky's results. They were all appreciated!

I just wanted to see the moon, but all I saw were stars

Last night was like other nights. Spaghetti was at Wrigley Field, selling his beer. I was home with the kids. Weaky was fast asleep in his bed. Bagel was all ready for bed, and she wanted to look for the moon one more time. (she has 3 windows at the front of her room) So we get out of bed, and go back over to the window.

I pull the blind cord (yes it's tied up so she can not reach) to see better...


CrAsH!!!


Down come the blinds, all on top of Bagels head!! Of coarse all the lights were out in her room, I quickly moved the blinds (not the little plastic ones. They are wooden, with big metal brackets. Of coarse) grabbed Bagel and went to her light switch.


Blood. Lots of blood.


Breathe mommy. Just breathe.


Breathe some more.


I instantly lay her down, calm her down, then move her to the bathroom, I grab a wash cloth, soak it in water, and put pressure on her head. She was only upset at the moment it happened, because she was scared. But she was fine now.


Her face didn't look that way. There was blood all caked in her hair (let me tell you, that little toe head was a ginger for the moment) it was all down her face, on her hands... I was good. Just breathing. Called my mom. "We are fine. Just come over. Bagel's blinds jumped off the window and attacked her face"


I get the bleeding to stop, and I start to clean her off. (so far I only see a head wound, but I wanted to check everywhere else, since she was covered in blood) she was good. All she kept saying was "I just want to see the moon, and the blinds hit me!"


I needed to take her to the ER, I wasn't paying for an ambulance, the ER would be $100 by itself. While I packed a diaper bag, and some small toys, Bagel was screaming... at the cats, at her toys, running around like a sugar coated toddler.


The Queen and Carrots arrived, Carrots stayed with the sleeping Weaky, who never did find out what happened. The Queen rode with me.


Pulled up to the ER, walked in and... damn it, I SO forgot about the Swine Flu!! We checked in, and found a marble bench outside the waiting room, but in earshot of them calling names. There was a food stand (sandwiches, chips and drinks) right there, so that was my dinner. (Turkey dinner and Starbucks Mocha Doubleshot, and Cheetos) We are there for bout an hour, and as I turn towards the Queen and say "would you like some Cheetos?" we both look at Bagel. Say "ohmygod" fast and quiet not to alarm the child that her head is spurting blood like a geyser!



I go up to check in, and the guy gives me gauze with saline. It was just maybe from her moving around so much (oh, she is still wound up, and loving to watch the people use the revolving door) well the Queen and I get the giggles from this. So now everything is funny, from the old lady hacking all over the place, to the old guy with the knee highs on.


Spaghetti finally met us at the Hospital, and Queen then took his car back to the house to sit with Carrots. After Queen left, we sat in the waiting area for about 40 more minutes. Then we got checked in.


That then led us to "Emergency Care" which was another 2 hours in a different waiting room. Bagel was still wound, and while everyone tried to sleep, my kid tried to climb the walls. We finally get a room around 12:45 am.


Perfect. It was small, dark and quiet. Bagel quickly went for the bed, and curled up with her green blankie (yep that would be the sacred green blankie, which needs to be sanitized along with her two stuffed cats. They were on EVERY surface in that hospital!) and she was out.


Nurse put the topical on her (actually she gave Spaghetti a cotton swab and a glove, and he got to hold it there for 30 minutes!) The nurse came back in, and started to clean it. Bagel was awake for the most part. She is freakishly still when doctors or nurses work on her (yes it's awesome) Spaghetti was at her side, while I was at her feet.


Then I suddenly started to feel sick. Really fast.


Then my ears were ringing, and then I couldn't hear at all.


Then everything was going black. I remember saying "Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti. I need to lay down. Right now"


All I wanted to do was lay on the floor, but the nurse wouldn't let me. She stopped what she was doing (sorry Bagel!) and they got me to a chair, then propped up my feet, and got me some water. I guess I wasn't' getting enough attention? Or the fact that my kid just had her first major wound, gushing blood, ER and all finally caught up with me?


I will take the second.


So Doc looked at it, and said it could use one stitch, but the glue would do the same and we didn't have to traumatize her with the stitch. Forked over $100, and finally left around 2:15 am Home by 2:30, Queen and Carrots never sit still, so they cleaned the toy room, did my dishes and of coarse fixed my attacking blinds.


Bagel was up again, so she wanted to play. Riiiight. Mommy and Daddy need to teach you to tell time. She was out in no time. I was in bed by 2:50 I don't thing Queen and Carrots were even out of the subdivision.


She is still asleep as of now, I think I will go check on her in a bit. Hoping for a less drama filled day. But at least I had my big first boo boo, ER and all. Even a bit of passing out in there! Thanks again to my wonderful parents, for zooming out to my house, going to the ER, feeding my dogs, cleaning my house, and staying up till the wee hours all for little ol' me and my family.


Muah.

The nutso takes off the moo moo, and puts on some pants.

I guess the nut bag should update, and let all my devoted readers (all 4 of you) know I am still alive, I still have "those days" but after hearing from more of my friends that they feel the EXACT same way, and just as often as me.


Well thanks. I needed that.


It was alot last week. Weaky turned one, and we threw a great party. (Saturday)
Then Monday was his 1 year check up, and well you know how that went.
Then Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday it was time to ship all the stuff from the garage to my parents for the big annual garage sale there subdivision has. And to gather and price as much of my crap as I could.
We (we as in, myself, Bagel and Weaky. Spaghetti had to work Wrigley for the two days) left Friday morning, and came home Saturday night. (but made $200!)
My IL's took the kids Saturday night.
Sunday we drove out with McD's to pick up the kids. Brought them back home, got ready then drove to Chicago to just spend the day in the city. (later post) Got home around 9 pm
Today was Weaky's DOC band at 10:15, and then home to mow the lawn, Spaghetti is gone again, more Wrigley!


I am looking forward to tomorrow. Nothing planned.
Wednesday is Christ Hospital for Weaky's CF testing. NOT looking forward to that.
I do believe the rest of the week is NOTHING.

NOTHING. NOTHING. NOTHING.


Spaghetti is OFF all 3 jobs. I have NOTHING going on.


Speaking of nothing, I think I should plan a stamp camp of some sort. My mom keeps bugging me. This is the longest I have ever gone with out having a class, and no newborn to blame for the break. I just don't want to right now.


So. I am fine. Still nuts. But fine non the less.

Fingers in my ears, going "lalalalalala"

Weaky had his one year check up Monday.

He is 28 1/2 inches, great motor skills, his head is looking great with the help of the DOC band.

We had him creep across the room, and we notice that he drags his left leg, and only pushes with the right. He does not crawl, but he does cruise around his bed, and will walk with his Lion walker/rider.

He just started pointing to his mouth for "eat" and he is getting so much more interactive. He really loves his toys, and don't even touch his Gerber Cheetos!!

BUT he is just a wee guy at 16 lbs 12 oz.

Sigh...

Sure I am little, and Bagel was little too. He is right on his height. But it's that little weight that bugs Dr. B. and it bugs me too. I know, I know, I am only 5 feet tall but he is tiny. He can still wear 3-6 month clothes. The 9 month pants are just fitting him. (But Bagel wears 6 month shorts, her waist is SO tiny!)

Weaky got his shots, 3 of them, as most kids he was very angry, and sore. But like a trooper he took his Tylenol and a nap.

So yesterday right before I left for my fun night out, Dr. B called us at home. (I would have told the girls but I didn't want it to be a buzz kill on our Brit night. I figure you would all see it today) He is concerned about Weaky's weight. And wants us to do a count of ALL things he consumes. But in weight. Like a 9 oz banana, or 3.5 oz of baby food.

I have to do this for 3 days so Dr. B can get a calorie count.

Then Dr. B ordered for him to go up to Christ Hospital's children's Hospital "Children's Hope" to have his electrolytes checked, urine, and his blood count (again, just did this in January)

And for a Sweat Chloride test.

For Cystic Fibrosis.

He said the Cystic Fibrosis is because Weaky shows some signs of "failure to thrive" so we go Wednesday the 6th at 10 am. I don't know that much about CF, I do know a girl from Real World died from this (Frankie) and that is all I want to know for now.

Spaghetti is sick over this. And I am not happy, but I don't want to know more then I need to right now. I will let the Doctors test him, and go from there. My mind won't wrap around the fact that he could be sick, until he really is.

So please wish us well. I believe in my heart my Weaky is fine. Just a wee little guy, with a big sweet heart. I will keep you updated with more when I get it.

365 days ago...

365 days ago this was me.
And I was in love with the idea of my perfect little baby boy coming into this world. (I was happily drugged for this picture)


After learning the hard way with Bagel, I realized I need not feel some of the pain to feel complete as giving birth to my child. As quickly as I was in pain this time, I was givin my epi. We started at 6:00 am, with tons of paper work, and some pitocin to start the day. We were on our way.


Around 3:30 pm I was dilated to 10 so they broke my water, and we started pushing at 3:35pm, and with some good iTunes going, (think Salt n Pepa's "Push it") it was only 36 minutes and at 4:06 pm, on April 25th you were born.


And here you are. Just 1 day old. Your light brown mohawk, and those little eyes... All 7 pounds, 10 oz, and 20 1/2 inches of you...



That little mohawk quickly became a lot of fuzzy hair! You were so tiny, and just the sweetest and most patient little boy I have met.
And even with the need to wear this DOC band 23/7 you are still a trooper. They said it would be days before you would adjust and it just took you hours. And you are SO good about it.

As you grow and learn new things, as you explore your world, and become the little person I hope for, I can't help but wonder...

What kind of a boy will you be? The sweet mamma's boy I want? A shy guy? A sporty guy like your dad? Maybe artsy like your mom?

What ever you are supposed to be. Whatever you will do in your life. Whatever your goals, and dreams will be. Just remember one thing...

I will ALWAYS be your number one fan.

I will ALWAYS be on your side.

I will ALWAYS be your best friend.

I will ALWAYS be your best girl.

I will love you more then there is sand in the sea or stars in the sky.

Alexander Edward. I love you more then you will ever understand.

There may be a day, when you have children of your own, and you love them so much that they just take over your whole heart, and your whole sense of being.

And you may think back to your parents, and think that you understand the love that they had for you. An unconditional love that nothing can break. No one can come between.

I try to understand how much Gigi and Papa love me. But I realize now that no matter how much I try, they will love me more then I could understand. I just assume its the same love I have for you.

I can't explain my love for you. I can't explain my want for you to love me more then any little man has loved his mother.

Happy first birthday. I wish you happiness, and love.

More then my own life,

Mommy

xo...