Friday, January 27, 2012

Coughing Up Flame

L is getting her first ear infection. I should consider us lucky. It's her first one in all four years of her little life. I have a hard time seeing that silver lining when she's hogging the blankets in bed and spending the wee hours of the morning coughing on me or (bad breath) breathing on me until I finally give up and get out of bed at 5:30 am. That said, even tired and fearing what germs are making a home in me - she is hilarious.

In preparation for our doctor's office I started asking questions. What hurts? ETC.

Me: "When you cough does anything come up?" 
L: "Yup. The flame. I have it." 


Me: {thinking} "OH you mean phlegm."
L: "Yup. Flame. In my thought mouth."

Just when I thought it couldn't get weirder up in here, I have a fire eater. P.s. she meant phlegm. Naturally. And no, she isn't feeling a burning sensation, she just thinks phlegm is flame.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Merry MERRY

Yeah, don't even get me started how far behind I am. Good news? I'm here now, m'kay? Let's hug it out. 

This year we had our second annual, we ain't going NOWHERE Christmas. Of course, this one was different in that we didn't have visitors. This was one was special. Dreamy.* Wonderful* and just what you think when you think "Damn. That was a relaxing holiday." It's also where we learned we have holiday rush PTSD. 

Example:
Christmas Eve our plan was to go to the fish market.  I know, we are landlocked - what are we DOING going to a fish market. We asked the kid: What do you want to eat for Christmas Eve? She answered, "Lobster." Look, my kid has champagne taste, we indulge. It's the holidays. I digress; we had to go to the fish market and the Hill. The Hill is an Italian section of the STL and we heard full of delicious. We figured if we couldn't have Arthur Avenue food, we'd have the Hill for Christmas dinner. That morning as we were getting on our way the husband & I started to feverishly rushing around. We had to go. We had to go fast. We were running late. We wanted to get on our way earlier. Go GO GO!

Wait. WHY are we late? Where did we have to go? What is the rush? We had ZERO plans other than the two stops we had to make.

We seriously had to check ourselves.

You know what that is? PTSD. Loud & clear.  Look at those faces? HOW can we be stressed with those FACES?
So we chilled out and had a lovely day. Fast forward through (surprisingly) delicious lobsters and we let L stay up late and bake cookies for Santa. Her entire body was filled with Christmas magic.  It was palpable and completely indescribable until it happens to you.  Last year was great, she got it - it was fun.  But this year? This year you could see it in her eyes Christmas freaking spirit. And when I tucked her in to sleep, I cried. Big baby that I am - I just couldn't wait for my baby to experience what was to come. 

Christmas morning, went a little like this. All of it? Pure magic. 
  • Present opening - between "Santa" (aka great deals), family, and friends it took close to 2 hours for my methodical kid to open her presents (and her baby sister's). While it may look like she got a lot of stuff - Santa wasn't only thrifty - he was practical.  
  • L got to eat candy before breakfast and have Christmas cookies for breakfast (she is still talking about this amazing Christmas magic).  She asked nicely. I said sure. She looked at me in disbelief.
  • We sat around a fire. We drank coffee, had breakfast (for those of us skipping on the cookies). We watched a movie - we stayed in our PJs. We had antipasti for lunch and then. We took a nap. All of us. CHRISTMAS.MAGIC. 
Finally we got up, got ready (jeans, baby) and sat down to a lovely Christmas dinner. 

LOVELY.



 * I would be remiss if I didn't mention while the holiday was dreamy it was also something of the best of the situation we were in. Of course, if given the opportunity to see family at our house and share the magic with family or friends we would have gladly shared the magic.

Friday, January 20, 2012

Sleep Tight

Truth: I hear "only you" often. This story should be filed under "only me."


Monday night I put my babies to bed and spend my evening waiting for JJ to wake up. She always wakes up at 11, so why go to sleep before that? 11 came, and went. Midnight. See ya. And just when I said to myself, "Self - forget it. You can't wait up for her to get up. Go.To.Bed." I got a text. 
A Tornado Watch has been issued for St. Louis
county until 1/17/2012 7:00:00 AM. KSDK.com
I signed up for alerts. Great idea. Oh yeah. Sleep tight, nighty night. 


Did I mention the husband was gone? The one who wakes up when a twig breaks three yards over? He wasn't home. Me? The tornado alarm could be going off and I would sleep through it. 


Oh wait. That's (not) funny because it's true. 

I proceeded to wake up every hour on the hour - just about. At one point L started crying, I ran to the room thinking it must be the storm that is scaring her. Nope. She was twisted in her blankets. (You can thank the bad puns on not getting any sleep.)

She fell asleep quickly, but soon after I was up again because of the sounds coming from outside. If I didn't get up to see it for myself, I wouldn't have believed what was happening outside.  It was hail, but it sounded like full fledged vehicles were slamming up against the windows.

Guess what?

No one woke. Not ONE peep.

The next morning, JJ awoke refreshed and ready to attack the day. 11 hours that little B slept. 11.HOURS. For the first time in her 5 months of existence PW (post womb). Me? I was a hot mess of exhaustion but the kids? They were well freaking rested. 



Only.Me.



Saturday, January 14, 2012

Pin It Girrrl

I have a problem. 

If I see it, I wanna pin it. My problem is I see something and I take it too far. I just can't help it. Take for example this cute little ditty.

I mean how perfect? 
  • Jars which are recycled - good for the environment AND the wallet?!
  • Organization is the key to happiness.
  • Cute. How. CUTE.
  • Different. Don't get me wrong. I'm not ashamed of the fact that 85% of our house could be a show room in Target or Ikea - but it's nice to have something different that you won't see at the store.

Here's the rub:

I don't know when to say "when." Our kitchen was being taken over by jars. Jars, jars, jars. 
  • Jars that were ready to put stuff in, but no stuff to put IN them. 
  • Jars that needed to be scrubbed - because labels are a biotch. 
  • And somewhere in-between, but still IN our tiny kitchen.  Jars, jars everywhere. I completed the original project in October - and yet it is just recently I pulled the plug on the circuit of jar stations in the kitchen. My husband likes me more now, I'm convinced.
True story, the other day this conversation happened, while we were in the kitchen. L comes running in...
Me: "L, what's the rule?"
L: "No running in the kitchen!" 
Me: "So then, don't run."
Ball & chain: "L, you better watch out. Mom's going to put you in a jar if you aren't careful."I'm working on it. But this is just one example. I saw another pin once upon a time; how perfect!


Do you know how many boxes I have of memories I want to find a way to preserve in a better way? 

  
Don't worry, I have my inner hoarder in check. I have ONE box like this of recent years... but still. Do you know how many holiday cards, birth announcements, wedding invitations, maps, tickets and postcards ONE box can hold?  I can tell you this: after seeing the same idea with holiday cards, it clicked. I got to work and now my couch has three piles of holiday cards: 2009 - 2011 neatly stacked and only one ready to flip through.  HOW PERFECT. Can't you just see it? Every year, unpacking our holiday garb to find little booklets of holiday cards from days of yore? Can't you just see it? SO EXCITING. Yeah, the husband wasn't as excited as me, either.  You know how IS as excited as me? The kid. She totally gets me. 

"Mama, this is SO cute of you." - best kid ever.
My husband on the other hand, doesn't think it's so cute. He mockingly mumbles "pin it girrrrl" more than he says "hello" nowadays while I continue to take things to far. Oh well, you win some, you lose some. 

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

It may be late, but it is for always.

Dear JJ,

I owe you a letter.  When I started writing this letter you were 3 months old, propped up on my shoulder. Snoozing - as you do. I would hold you all day, if I could. You are always quick to get comfy with me and you're still at the itty bitty size I can hold you on one side while typing.  I need to tell you a few things. As we rounded out month 4, there were things you need to know. 2 months later it turns out all these things hold true.
  1. You are stinkin cute. 
  2. Your smile? It makes ovaries weep. Adorable doesn't explain it.
  3. When you aren't a doll? Seriously - dang girl. You may or may not have anger management issues. You get SO MAD. In a split second you are happy and the next you are screeching and crying. Did someone say mood swings? I don't know where you get it. 
  4. Oh how you are loved by your big sister. Your big sister loves talking with you, holding you, kissing you, dancing with you - and when you master a new trick I am fairly sure she is more excited than anyone. Her love is (almost) unmatched. 
  5. You love her more than any of us. She lights up your face and with her you can be calmed. 
  6. Despite my inability to write about you enough or keep up with your month pictures you are loved like no ones business.  
We love you kid.

Love you much. Love you always, 
Mama & Daddy

Monday, January 2, 2012

Ending 2011 with the WORST Idea Ever

Alternative title: "This one time, when I begged for Tonya Harding to put me out of my misery..."

New Years Eve I thought I planned the cutest day, ever. We picked up lunch at a local sandwich shop which ROCKS the house. Fresh ingredients, delicious combinations: Fozzie's Sandwich Emporium, you complete me. It was a gorgeous day so we thought we would go to the park and have a little bit of a picnic before we headed to an outside ice skating rink. Can you handle the cuteness?

Then we accidentally sat in a wind tunnel.

After we scarfed down our delicious sandwiches (mostly because we needed to keep them from flying away) and chased freshly cut and made potato chips - it was off to go ice skating.

Nothing wrong with going skating with a 4 year old and an infant. No red flags there. No red flags thrown considering the ball & chain and I are what you would call allergic to athletics. Neither of us are graceful. Neither of us really know how to skate. So yeah, let's go do this thing, nothing is going to go wrong.

For the record? L LOVED "skating." That said, I'm not entirely sure she ever actually SKATED. She got on that ice quick and held on to the side, as I would. The thing is, whenever she let go of the side, she would start to flail like a flapper dancer and wipe-out, hard. NEVER crying. The alternative to this fish flailing on a line was a fun routine of her grabbing a hold of me.  Keep in mind, I'm not a skilled at anything athletic so I was barely standing upright as it was. At one point she almost managed to pull my holiday-too tight jeans down. That's a serious grasp.  She insisted on letting go of the wall every time she got her balance.  She refused to accept any help from me or anyone on the sidelines trying to give her with some instruction on how to stay upright. Stubborn does not begin to describe the scene. By minute 30, at which point we weren't yet way around the little rink, I started to hope that she WOULD fall hard enough to cry. Not hard enough to hurt herself (seriously), but enough that they would let us OUT of the little ring of hell.  Once you got going, the only way "out" was to go around. So yes, I may have welcomed a little bit of a scene. 

At one point, I could be heard saying, "We are never going to make it around alive."

Spoiler alert: We did (barely).

She loved it and when we (finally) got around, it was my lovely (sitting the whole time) husband's turn to go with her. He was with JJ who was blissfully asleep. The plan was to switch out. To put it lightly: He owes me.

L was sopping wet from all of her spills and I was fairly sure her legs were purple from all of her "skating."  I was afraid if they went - JJ & I would have to sacrifice them and leave without them, eventually. Plus, seriously, I needed to save my husband. He says he would have been fine but I seriously doubt it.  The role of mean mommy was played by yours truly and I said it was time to go. Of course THAT'S when she started to cry. To say this was my worst idea of 2011 is to put it lightly.



But OH how she LOVED it. Skating lessons will need to commence, but this girl? Me? I will NOT be skating anytime soon ever.

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