It seems I'm always saying to Alex "Just give me five minutes Buddy, and I'll play with you" or "I just need five minutes before I can get you more juice" A couple of days ago out of the blue he presented me with an impressive tower of Mega Blocks.
"What is it?" I ask him
"It's five minutes"
He's been building and giving me "five minutes" a couple of times a day now. Pretty soon, I'll have so much time I won't know what to do with it.
When Alex was a baby he got brand new age approripate toys designed to stimulate his development which I disninfected in a bleach solution weekly.
Max has to make due with mismatched tupperware lids and any of the toys Alex isn't currently playing with after a cursory check for small parts and a few stray dog hairs picked off.
My newest post at Bodies in Motivation is up:
http://www.bodiesinmotivation.com/2009/01/dont-let-em-see-you-quit/
Until I figure out a better way to update this site when I update that site, I'll just do this.
John and I went on a real live date last night. Just the two of us, out on the town. I can't even remember the last time we actually went out on a date. LONG before Max was born at least.
We went to see Josh and the Dream Killer play at a local club. It so happens we have an in with the band. James, the co-founder of the band is one of John's best friends. Anyhow, they were great! I'd never had a chance to see their show before, and while I knew that James is an incredibly talented pianist, they still blew me away! All but one song was original, and the one cover they played was Geto Boys "Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta" but they'd done it in their own unique style. It was great to watch James get his Billy Joel on. I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if they end up making it big one day.
Suffice it to say, John and I had a great time. It was nice to get out together, have a couple of drinks, enjoy some good music and reconnect as two adults rather than two parents wrangling a couple of wild howler monkeys.
Have you seen this site yet? It was created by Linda (All & Sundry), who happens to be my all time favorite blogger, ever.
Anyway, it's a great site. So great that I wrote to Linda and said "Can I write for you?" and she said "Sure!" and thus, Project Hot Mom has moved. I am now blogging at Bodies in Motivation and I couldn't be more excited about it!
I debated whether to talk about that here. After all, I know most of you who read this site, and over there I'm "getting naked" as it were. I'm posting pictures (no, not naked pictures) and my weight and measurements and, I'm pretty sure I weigh as much as a few of you put together. It's a scary thing to know that you'll know. But at the same time, you all have shown me nothing but encouragement and support in all of my PHM endeavors, so I'd be crazy not to ask for your support over there as well.
My first post went up yesterday and I received such a warm and friendly reception from the bloggers and some of the readers already. So, if you're ready to know the ugly truth about me and my body, why don't you stop by and say "Hi"
I just found out a friend of mine is pregnant after trying for two years. YAY! So, I pulled out all my old maternity clothes and went through them to give to her.
My first thought was that I can't believe I wore that much pink and floral prints.
My second was how happy I am to be done with that part of my life now.
Surprised as I was by both thoughts, I have to say that it was damn near shocking to feel, not nostalgia, or even a little bit of disappointment that my child bearing days are over, but I felt pure, unmitigated joy. Happiness, elation, a thrilling sense of moving on to the next level of my life.
It's not that I hated pregnancy. In fact, despite all the bitching I did during both pregnancies, I rather liked being pregnant. It felt like I was a living, breathing miracle. A life bearing Goddess. It felt magical and exciting though more than a little bit nauseating. Being pregnant was something I literally dreamed of for most of my life. I wasn't the girl playing princess or planning a future wedding to Prince Charming. I was the kid waddling around with a pillow under my shirt and practicing Lamaze breathing.
I wondered if I'd ever get to the place where I was sure I didn't want to have any more children. I've said all along that we're done at two, and it's true, we're not having more kids, but there was a little inkling, just a little feeling at the back of my head that wondered if maybe I felt a little bit sad about that. To NEVER surprise John with a positive pregnancy test again. To NEVER see the flashing heart beat dot on ultrasound for the first time again. To NEVER again feel the baby kicking me from the inside. To never hear John tell me with happy tears in his eyes "We had a BABY!" while hearing our son's first cries. I really thought I'd feel sad about that. But, I don't. I've had those experiences and they were amazing and unforgettable. I don't need more. I was thrilled and lucky to give birth to both of my boys. I'm good.
I wanted to write a post about yesterday, and I tried, and I tried, and I tried, but I couldn't come up with a post that really articulated everything I was feeling. Today I found this. So, here ya go. This is how I feel:
I spent my day alternating between watching the inauguration wide eyed and misty to yelling at Alex to keep quiet because nothing he wants right this second is as important as what is happening on CNN! At one point Alex got so sick of me ignoring him he grabbed my face, turned my head towards him and yelled "Listen to me Mom! I'm a Barack Obama Boy!"
I'm still not sure what a Barack Obama Boy is, but it did get my attention.
SInce Alex was two he's been night time potty trained. Well, not so much trained because I didn't actually do any training to get him to stop peeing at night, he just stopped doing it. But that's not my point. My point is, that now that he's daytime trained (that yes, took quite a bit of training for both of us), he's now peeing the bed a couple nights a week. ???
I always take him to the potty just before he goes to bed, and I always cut off his drinks two hours before bedtime. So...I don't get it.
It's really not a big deal, we have a plastic cover on his mattress, and I'd rather him wet the bed at night than wet his pants during the day, I'm just wondering why we can't have both? Why does it seem like it has to be one or the other?
So I finally got myself to the optomitrist, I hadn't been since shortly after Alex was born (THREE YEARS AGO!), and was long overdue for a checkup. I'd been complaining to John that I couldn't see anything anymore, and he suggested that just maybe I needed a new prescription.
I decided to get contacts this time because the kids are really hard on my glasses, what with the yanking them off my face and stomping on them and what not. I haven't worn contacts in the last 10 years or so. What I wasn't quite prepared for was coming home and looking in the mirror with my brand new contacts in and looking back at me from the mirror was an old lady. I noticed that my eyes were all wrinkly and puffy and my eyebrows had gone wild. What used to be my best feature, now look beady and sad. The blue is paler than it used to be (I used to have eyes just like Alex), my lashes are short and stubby. I suppose I never really noticed this because I normally wear dark plastic frames that obscure half my face. Making me feel even worse was when Alex came up to me and said "Mommy, you look weird, put your glasses back on!"
I suppose part of the problem is I haven't had more than three hour stretches of sleep for seven months. I'm hopefull that someday Max will sleep through the night and the luggage I'm carrying under my eyes will go away.
I also noticed that everything looks fatter. Like the view from the lenses in my glasses somehow made everything tall and skinny. My baby is HUGE, Alex isn't nearly as skinny as I thought he was, and me, well, let's just say I'm getting back on the PHM wagon first thing in the morning because it's worse than I thought.
John doesn't seem to mind the change, he's used to what I look like with no glasses on, to use his words "This is what you look like when we're in bed together", so I suppose it can't be that bad right?
I FINALLY joined up on Facebook last night prompted by very good friend/Danish sister Marianne looking me up after a way too long separation. Anyhow, we had a wonderful little chat online and I decided Facebook is the best thing EVAH!
I spent, oh, ALL NIGHT, on Facebook checking things out and found a group for my high school graduating class and I was able to find some old friends and catch up a little on what's been going on in their lives the last decade or so.
During the course of my Facebook wanderings I discovered two disturbing things:
Thing the first: There exists on Facebook a picture of me at a high school dance. A BAD picture of me at a high school dance. I found said picture within two hours of joining facebook and I am pretty sure there are probably even worse pictures of me out there, quite possibly in various stages of drunkeness.
Thing the second: I lost my virginity to a gay man (yes, a DIFFERENT gay man than the one I married and divorced). This discovery has ensured I will not be looking up any other ex's on Facebook lest I discover the depths of faghaggery to which I sunk during my teens and early 20's.
Alex and I were playing a Simon Says type game and I asked him to act like Daddy. He proceeds to walk around scratching his butt with one hand and stuck his finger from the other hand into his mouth and rubbed his teeth. I asked him what he was doing and he says "Scratching my butt and taking care of my teeth!"
Then I ask him to act like Mommy. He does this weird hula type movement and then scratches his butt. I ask him what he's doing, he says "Exercising and scratching my butt"
I ask him to act like Baby Brother, he sits on the bed and says "WAHHHH!" And hits the pillows with his hands, then gets up and scratches his butt.
When asked to act like various family members, Fancy the dog, Santa Claus and his two best friends, he would do something that they've probably done in his presence, then scratch his butt. I find it hard to believe all of these people do enough butt scratching to make it a memorable personality trait.
While I was taking a shower this morning, John and Alex were watching Super Why! It wasn't yet over when I was done and John went to take his shower. When he was done and about to leave for work, he says to me "Hey, did you happen to catch what the super story answer was?"
"The what?"
"The super story answer"
"From Super Why?"
"Yea."
"Well, I didn't watch it, what episode was it?"
"The one where the boy cried wolf"
"Oh, ok, well the super story answer is 'trust'"
"You know that?"
"Yea, I've seen them all"
"Ok, thanks"
"Wait a minute, why do you want to know?"
"Oh, I just got sort of invested in the story"
"Ah, Honey, that's cute"
So, the question is, what's funnier, the fact that John's invested in an episode of Super Why! or that I can tell him off the top of my head what the super story answer was without having just watched the show?
I haven't really been in the mood to blog lately, I've got a bit of writer's block, which I can usually unclog with more writing, but alas, I haven't felt like it. I have done a few little tweets though. Apparently that's all I've got in me.
The biggest problem is there just isn't anything interesting to write about. Right now, the only thing of interest is that the baby seems to be a bit constipated, and really, who wants to hear about that? I'm also not doing so hot on PHM, for no good reason other than I'm just so damned hungry all the time. It's because I'm still nursing, I was this way with Alex too. I get lightheaded and grumpy if I'm not eating all the freaking time, so what I'm trying to do is just make sure that what I am eating is healthier than a bag of french fries and ice cream sandwiches. While I'm doing a great job of not gaining, I'm not loosing... so there's nothing really to report.
In other news, life is going well, the kids are great. Really, both of them are healthy and happy and completely blow my mind with their combined awesomeness. Max is sitting, babbling, eating and driving his big brother crazy. Alex is taking it all in stride, and I'm proud of him for not releasing any of his frustration back at his baby brother, sadly though, he does tend to take it out on the dog. Speaking of Fancy, she has made it her mission to get me out and walk every morning, even (or sometimes, especially) when I don't want to. She's driving me crazy right now because since John's gone, I can't take her out (too cold for the kids) and she's gone from bouncing around and barking at me to sulking in the corner glaring at me whenever I walk by.
So, until something interesting happens, or I find some inspiration, it's likely to be a bit quiet over here.
Max is no longer content to simply bite my nipples with his seven (SEVEN!) freakishly razor sharp teeth while nursing, he is also now pinching my arm hard throughout the entire nursing session. So while on one hand, yea, nursing is going great as far as my milk supply is still sufficient and he still prefers breast to bottle, but on the other hand...OUCH! I still plan to stick it out another six months though. To be perfectly honest, I don't think I could wean him now if I wanted to. Kid sprouts horns and spits fire when presented a bottle.
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Alex is POTTY TRAINED!!! Ok, sure, he's not FULLY potty trained, in that I don't let him wipe his own butt yet, but still YAY! YAY! YAY!
You know what this means? No more diaper bag! I went out and bought myself a reasonably sized mom-purse which holds mine and the baby's necessities. I do keep a large ziplock with an extra pair of undies and pants in the car in case of accidents, but he hasn't had an accident in weeks. I am SO PROUD OF HIM!
:::
Often I stick empty cardboard boxes on the lid of the garbage can in the garage so I don't have to trek outside to the recycle bin a million times. I just let it accumulate and take out a bigger load. Sometimes they mysteriously disappear and I've assumed John was taking it out for me. Today I found out he's just tossing it into the garbage can thinking it's trash. He actually thought I was being lazy and not throwing them away myself, like I'd go to the trouble of breaking down the boxes and taking them out to the garage, but figure it was just too much work to lift the lid on the can.
:::
I'm anxious for John to go back to work Monday after having been home on holiday vacation for the last two weeks. I've spent most of the time breaking up fights between him and Alex and trying to get them to share.
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John takes me to Mimi's Cafe once a month or so for breakfast/brunch and I always get the crab and avocado omelet. If you haven't had this, GET IT NOW! Really, I don't know why they even bother having anything else on the menu, it's so good, why would anyone get anything else? This morning I had it along with a honey bran muffin, and I swear that meal was practically orgasmic! I was almost reenacting that scene from When Harry Met Sally during the entire meal.
:::
When I wasn't moaning in ecstasy from my breakfast, I was beaming with motherly pride as both my children behaved BEAUTIFULLY. Right next to us was a large group that included a couple of young children, one of them, a boy about Alex's age kept doing this whiny/shrieky/screaming thing that was so loud it actually hurt my ears. The mother, of course, was mortified and kept hissing at her children to keep quiet. At one point I caught her eye and gave her a sympathetic look, because, I've been there sister. I then leaned over to John and whispered "You know what is totally awesome? That sound isn't coming from either of our children!"
:::
GO UTES!
