Remember Way Back When...

I've discovered that the life of a working mom is pretty much just plain CRAZY! This morning, I was running late for work and just as I was going to walk out the door, Noah had to go poop but was constipated and in pain and I did not have the heart to leave him in that condition. He just wanted his mama. So I sat and rubbed his back and encouraged his pushing while praying that God would hurry the process up so that I wouldn't be late. It took a good 20 minutes and a lot of grunting before he felt well enough to let me leave. I quickly made a sandwich and ran out the door and headed for work. on the way there, I called to let them know I would be late due to a case of constipation. When I exited the freeway, I noticed that the most important item was missing from my passenger seat: my PUMP! I called work again, clarified my earlier conversation letting them know that it was my son who was constipated not me and I let them know that I would be even later because I forgot my pump. I got on the freeway going the opposite direction and sat in dead stop traffic for awhile. I ended up making it to work an hour and a half late. 

  When I returned home from work later that day, I kissed my kids hello and started to work on dinner as Noah attempted to reach his little hands up to the food I was chopping and Maia began whining from her play mat. I placed Noah in his high chair and gave him an apple to munch on, swaddled Maia and placed her in her crib for a nap and went back to working on dinner. Maia cried for a good 15 minutes before falling asleep while Noah gave me a play by play of her crying (Maia's ky-ing) in between choking on apple peel. About 10 minutes after she fell asleep, Noah runs right by her bedroom door and yells and wakes her up. It took me forever to finish dinner and by the time it was ready I was starving but so were my kids. So, I fed them, bathed them and put them to bed and sat down to eat my cold dinner at 8. No time to sit and sulk over cold dinner, there was a whole kitchen to be cleaned and a shower to be taken. 

 While in the shower, I reminisced about the days with no children when I could go to work without the embarrassing backpack pump and without having some kid dilemma to make me late (i.e. constipation, spit up on my dress, explosive poop). My husband and I would come home from work and veg on the couch and after we had relaxed for awhile we'd go out for a nice peaceful hot dinner and come home to a clean house and no dishes. Sheesh...how boring is that?! 

Update on the Cleaning Lady

I have never been embarrassed and immensely grateful at the same time but I experienced those two emotions simultaneously yesterday afternoon. On my way home from work at 4 p.m. I received a call from my husband asking me what he was supposed to do because the cleaning ladies were still there. What?! They're still there? They had gotten to my house at 8:15 a.m. and there were two of them. Let me remind you that my house is quite small. How could it possibly take two women 8 hours to clean my tiny house? Was it that dirty? At this point I was mortified thinking about how gross my house must have been. When I got home at 4:30 p.m. the ladies were just exiting my house...I wished I had a bag over my head so they wouldn't see who was responsible for the disgusting house. I smiled at them and said thank you and as soon as they were out of sight, I bolted through the door of my house to see what could have possibly taken so long... It was like a getting a glimpse of heaven. The stairs that lead up to my house, which when I left that morning had about two inches of dirt on each step were a different color...I never knew that is what they were supposed to look like. I entered my dining room and noticed that my tile floor was without spots and that every inch of the grout had been scrubbed. My white-tiled kitchen, was sparkling and the grout in there was no longer yellow. All the baseboards throughout my house had been scrubbed, my toilets were ring-free, my shutters on every window were spotless, and the dust on every picture and piece of furniture was gone. Not only did they empty all the trash cans, they scrubbed them clean as well. I had never witnessed a nice smelling trash can. Later, when I went to start cooking dinner, I opened the refrigerator and I was not hit with the nasty odor that I had become used to. These ladies had to be angels! They cleaned my refrigerator, it was sparkling! All the worry and stress was worth it and I will provide cleaning supplies any day in exchange for my house looking like that. When my husband entered the house with the kids, I stopped him at the bottom of the stairs and told him that we were taking the babies to my mom's house for a few days so that I could make the glimpse of heaven last more than 5 minutes...he shot down my idea, and I spent the rest of the evening following my children like a shadow with my Clorox spray all around the house cleaning everything that they touched or stepped on.

What a Mess

So, I never post from work, but this morning I have to in order to unwind and de-fluster myself. Well, I have been wanting to hire someone to clean my house for awhile now but I had a few hang ups about it...1.) My house is like a shoebox, really tiny, and I didn't want the cleaning lady to think I was super lazy and couldn't clean my own house 2.) If I was going to pay someone to clean my shoebox, I wanted them to be super thorough and make it worth my while. Number 1 was solved by me being okay with the fact that the lady was going to label me as lazy, I can handle the blow. Number 2 was solved when my friend Jen told me that her cleaning lady scrubs the baseboards. Yesterday, I took the plunge, called the lady, and asked her to come over my house this morning at 8 to clean. Then, I went into a cleaning frenzy after putting the kids to bed. I barked orders to Ricky, and went crazy shoving stuff in closets, throwing stuff away, and launching anything in my path in the hamper. You always have to clean before the cleaning lady comes right?
This morning, my mom came to pick up the kids and the cleaning lady was running late so my mom said she would stick around to wait for her so I wouldn't be late to work. I let her know where the Clorox spray was in case the lady needed it and left for work fantasizing about my immaculate house. About 20 minutes later, my mom calls asking where the Windex is...I don't know...I don't think I have Windex! She calls again 3 minutes later asking where the Swiffer wipes are...I don't think we have any. She calls again, 2 minutes later letting me know that the cleaning lady is giving her a list of cleaning supplies to go get at the market! Of course this would happen to me, why wouldn't it?! My poor mother had to pack up my two kids and go to the market and return with cleaning supplies. Upon her return, she calls to ask me where I keep my cleaning rags, I can hear both kids screaming in the background. I tell her to grab any towel she can find. At this point my fear of the cleaning lady thinking I would be lazy is the least of my worries. I now know that she is afraid to be in my contaminated house that has probably never been properly cleaned and probably wonders if I even shower with shampoo and soap. Also, I feel horrible that my mother had to shuttle my kids to and from the market and go on a scavenger hunt through my house when all she was planning to do was let the lady in the house and show her where the Clorox spray was! I think God allows this stuff to happen to me so He can giggle and I can blog!

Musings of a 19 Month Old

Right now it is so peaceful in my house. All of my babies are sleeping including my husband. Since we are at church all morning on Sundays, Noah and Maia's schedules get all messed up and they have a really hard time going down for their naps by the time we get home. Today, Noah talked in his crib for a good 45 minutes before falling asleep. At one point I decided to listen in at the door to see if I could hear what he was saying. He was doing this funny high pitched laugh saying, "Ha ha ha, Bu-ya. Ha ha ha, Bu-ya." I sat there wracking my brain trying to figure out what he was saying, then it hit me! Every time we go to my parents' house (ever since Noah was first born), my dad takes Noah for a walk and points out everything to him including mailboxes, flowers, dogs, fire hydrants, and statues in people's yards. This is part of the reason why I think Noah's vocabulary is advanced for a one-year-old. Anyways, one of the houses that they walk by has a statue of a big fat happy Buddha. He has a huge smile on his face and looks like he is laughing. Every time Noah and my dad get to that statue, my dad laughs in a high pitched voice and tells Noah that Buddha is laughing. So, Noah was imitating his Papi and Buddha from his crib before his nap. It is fascinating what sticks in little kids' minds! 

Detox/ Hell Began Today

I hesitate to even write this post because then I will have people keeping me accountable. I'd rather just keep this to myself so that I won't feel pressured, but maybe if I write about I'll be more likely to stick to it...Oh dear...Okay, here it goes...No, I am not a closet alcoholic or drug addict...I am a sugarholic. Yesterday, Ricky got all inspired by his health nut brother and suckered me into going on the Sugar Busters diet with him. I know that it would only be a matter of time before I'd have to give up eating chocolate chip cookies every night...yeah, you read that right EVERY night...The Biggest Loser chocolate chip cookie night has now stretched itself out to every night of the week. My eating habits have gotten to the point of ridiculousness and I knew it was time to make a change. Last week alone, I had a Carmel Macchiato 5 times, chocolate chip cookies every night, a Butterfinger Dairy Queen Blizzard once, a slice of cheesecake, and lots of Halloween candy. It's no wonder that I feel like crap so often and always want to take a nap. I am a sugar fiend. 

  This week all of that changes. I can no longer have sugar and the mere thought of that is  making me break out in a cold sweat and giving me the shivers. All I want right now is some cookies!!! 

  Today, I spent way too much money at Trader Joe's and Henry's so that we were stocked up on healthy food and had no money left in the bank to spend on the our 10 p.m. sugar cravings. It was a good strategy and I hope it works. At this moment, I am contemplating getting a secret credit card for secret desserts but I hope that urge will pass soon. 

 This new leaf that we are turning is also a good thing for us as parents. Right now, we make Noah eat super healthy and when we are eating french fries or cookies and he asks for some we tell him it's "yucky" and he can't have any. This makes me both a liar and a hypocrite. Now, I can stop feeling guilty and will be able to share all that I eat with my son. Wish me luck and pray for me this week. When I did this before, I really felt as though I was detoxing from a drug addiction. 

The Spitting Princess

Maia's mealtimes have become my most dreaded moments of the day. She is a spitting machine and I don't know how to communicate to a five month old not to spit. She does not understand that mommy is running late for work and won't have to time to change her cereal splattered dress or that scraping cereal off the crevices of the highchair and off the floor and off the blinds is not something mommy cares to do. She does not seem to mind that she goes off to grandma's house with cereal crust up her nose, behind her ears, and stuck in her hair. Feeding Maia now results in a colossal mess and it takes five times as long to feed her which makes me crazy. Solutions anyone? Note: I have tried firmly saying no, flicking her mouth, and not feeding her. The first two resulted in more spitting; the latter resulted in hours of crying. 

The Sign of a Bad Day

I knew today was going to be a bad day as soon as I picked out my shoes this morning. I chose to wear really uncomfortable, too high heels, that were cute, matched my outfit, and kept the hem of my jeans from touching the floor and getting frayed. I know that I don't walk well in heels but I didn't seem to have a choice so I put my heels on, went through my morning routine of dressing, feeding, and packing for my two babies and headed off to work. Upon arrival I gathered my massive purse, my backpack pump, my sweater, and my raisin toast and headed toward the office. (It's amazing how I am a pack mule even when I am without my kids.) Right when I got to the stairs, I thought, wow, I haven't rolled an ankle yet, that's impressive! Well, what is that saying?..."Pride comes before the fall?"...I was the literal example of that phrase. As I made my way up the stairs, my heel missed the step and I felt myself began to go down along with all of my luggage. I could see myself falling in slow motion and I was powerless to stop it. I put my hands down to stop my face from slamming into the floor, completely smooshing my breakfast but saving my face. My pump flew over my head, my sweater went flying, and my purse hit the floor with a bang. I flung my head up quickly and scanned my surroundings to see how many people I had completely humiliated myself in front of...Praise the Lord, my ego was only bruised in front of one person. She ran out of the office asking if I was okay. I gathered all of my things, regained my composure, told her I was fine, and thought, I knew this was going to be a bad day. I sustained a painful bruise on my foot to add to the one on my ego and a broken shoe. 

 Later that morning, I discovered that I had a big black raisin stuck in my teeth for most of the morning, and I mentally noted all the people I had smiled at that morning who had been picking their teeth. I obviously did not get the hint. 

  My day continued to get worse with different situations at work and was topped off with the simultaneous, in sync, loud, obnoxious crying of my two children for 30 minutes straight on the way home from dinner with my in-laws. 

 Why didn't I choose to wear comfortable shoes today? My day would have been much more pleasant. 

Mama Etiquette

 

I had many rookie mom moments when I first had Noah, but since having Maia, I have felt pretty confident in my mothering and feel as though I have graduated past the rookie stage. However, I realized the other day that I am still a rookie when it comes to being a mom at birthday parties or family gatherings. I left the party with the following questions...

How do I tell the little girl in the jumper that Noah doesn't like to be caught in a headlock and wrestled to the floor 5 times in a row?

Should I pull my 1 1/2 year old and all the other little ones like him out of the jumper thingy when the big kids start UFC fighting in the jumper or should I start chanting "fight, fight, fight" like a high schooler and hope the kids' mothers come and stop them?

How do I ask relatives without hurting their feelings not to put germ infested fingers into Maia's mouth because she wants something to chew on? Do they know how many nasty germs are on fingers? I know this is really not that big of a deal to some people, but to me it is! It makes me want to gag. The only time I put my fingers in my kids' mouths is directly after washing my hands with anti-bacterial soap. I will not even use a towel to dry my hands because I don't want any germs from the towel to get in their mouths.

How do you explain to your 1 1/2 year old that it is okay to hit the pretty butterfly pinata as hard as he can with a baseball bat, but not okay to hit other toys or kids with it?

Once the pinata is broken, how do you convince your 18 month old to get in the midst of all the choas and pick up all the candy he can for Mama. This was especially confusing for Noah because Mama was asking him to pick up all the "yuckies." (This is what I call candy, so that he won't want it.) 

How do I explain to people why my kid is eating tomato and cheese slices while everyone around him is eating cake? Do I tell them I'm a Nazi health food mom and make them feel sorry for my deprived child? Do I lie and tell them he's allergic to sugar and processed foods? 

When your kid poops in his diaper and leaves a trail of nasty odors as he walks by people who are eating, is it okay to blame one of the other kids to save yourself the embarrassment?

How do I ask the over-zealous relative to put my son down when he is frantically crying because the over-zealous relative kind of freaks him out and won't let him go?  

Fly Hunting

As you have seen from previous blogs, one of our pastimes here in Chino is fly swatting. We Chino-ites teach our children at a very young age the fine art of fly swatting. As you can see from this video, I never miss an opportunity to refine my children's fly-killing skills. Today, I had Noah practice this skill during bath time on an unsuspecting pesky fly. 

  You would not want to be a fly on the wall in my house...you might get smashed by the heavy hand of a 1 year-old. 

An Award Please?

I feel like I deserve an award for keeping my children alive and staying sane after my day yesterday. You all may be shocked at how easy I have it and think that I am really not deserving of anything but a poopy diaper but I am very proud of myself nonetheless...

Yesterday, I picked up my babies after work and headed home like I always do. Normally my husband is home waiting to help me get my 5 bags and two babies out of the car and up the stairs into the house, but yesterday he was working late and so I had to figure out how to get my luggage plus my two babies out of the car and up the stairs all by myself. Then, I had to figure out how I was going to cook dinner, keep the babies entertained, feed dinner, give baths, read all 100 of Noah's books to him, keep my sanity, and not bite my husband's head off as soon as he walked in the door after the kids were sound asleep...

First things first, getting out of the car and up the stairs was quite a task because the neighbor kid was outside riding his bike and as soon as I took Noah out of his car seat, he ran out of the garage yelling the little boy's name and chasing him down the street. I ran after him in my uncomfortable heels with 5 bags on my shoulder and Maia in her car seat on the other arm being brain damaged from the jolts she was receiving from being bumped against my leg. I didn't have any free hands with which to grab Noah so I had to bribe him back to the house with my phone. Once we got up the stairs, I was a sweaty mess. I started the rice for dinner, changed my shoes, took Maia out of her car seat, and headed outside with Noah so he could release some energy. This was the most peaceful part of my afternoon. Watching Noah go up and down the slide 20 times. When I knew that I had to get back to my rice, I told Noah that we had to go and he threw a fit. I dragged him back to the house by his arm muttering not so nice things under my breath as he cried and Maia slid down my hip on the other side . Once inside, Maia went in her swing and I handed Noah a towel and told him to help me kill the flies that were buzzing all around my kitchen. While I was cooking dinner, Maia started crying and I once again put Noah to work telling him to go give Maia a kiss. This worked for a few minutes but then I must have sent him over to her one too many times because the last time he head-butted her and grabbed her toy from her hand after kissing her which made her cry even more. I scrambled to finish dinner, only burning myself once amidst the chaos of a 1 crying baby and 1 whining baby. Then I placed them in their high chairs and attempted to feed Maia her rice cereal and Noah his dinner at the same time. Bad idea. Maia was upset that she had to take turns and Noah was annoyed with Maia's crying. While she cried, he yelled, "Maia's ky-ing" and refused to eat. I finished feeding her, took her out of her chair, swaddled her and put her down in her crib. She continued to scream. I proceeded to feed Noah despite the loud crying coming from the babies' room. Once he was done, I got Maia and nursed her while reading Noah 3 different books. After feeding her, I gave them each a bath one at a time, read 2 more books, brushed Noah's teeth, got them ready for bed, prayed with them, and put them down. All I wanted to do at that point was drink a glass of wine and pass out on the couch, but my kitchen was a mess, my bathroom looked like a tidal wave hit it, my living room had toys and books scattered everywhere, and my stomach was begging me to feed it. I have a whole new respect for single moms. I don't think I could do that more than once a year! But, the fact that I got through that afternoon with two babies alive and fed, my house not burned down, and my sanity intact makes me feel like I deserve a trophy!

A Little Grace

Have you ever done something and wished you had a life Tivo so you could rewind life and undo it? I have done many of those things, but today was a big one. I arrived home from a meeting at around 4 p.m. and was in deep thought. I pulled into the garage, shut the car off and without even thinking pushed the button to shut the garage. I gathered my things and was about to exit the car when I heard an awful scratching noise. My heart dropped as I watched the garage door switch directions and I heard the awful scratching noise again. "Oh dear God, please don't let this be happening!" I could only imagine the damage that the garage door had done to the truck, I was too afraid to even look. Finally, I gathered the courage and peeked around the back corner of the truck to see if the bumper was still attached. It was. However, in the middle of the tail gate, of my new black truck is a HUGE white scratch from the very top all the way to the bottom of the tailgate. I felt like I was going to vomit. My options were to go inside, tell my husband, and plead for my life;  hop in the truck, go to a friends house, call my husband, tell him and give him time to process the information before I was in his presence; or flat out lie about how the scratch was there when I got out of my meeting and it must have been some hoodlum kid. I chose to go with option #1. As I climbed the stairs, I contemplated crying because tears usually work in my favor, but I was too sick to deal with having to work up tears.  I arrived at the top of the stairs and thought, "maybe if I fake faint right now, he will be so worried about me that when I wake up and the first words out of my mouth are "I scratched the truck," he won't even care because, he'll be glad I'm alright." Before I could enact this plan, I heard myself saying, "I did a bad thing." I told him and he just stayed quiet. I asked him not to look at it because it would just make him upset, but he went down to check it out for himself anyways. He didn't say anything for about an hour and I just felt more and more horrible and thought about how much I would appreciate a little grace. Then, on the way to my parent's house for dinner, the much needed grace came. "It was mostly my fault you know. I was supposed to hang something from the ceiling in the garage so that you would know how far to pull in and I never got around to it," he said.   A flood of relief swept over me and I finally took a deep breath after holding my breath for about an hour. He didn't hate me and I was going to live after all! 

  Grace is a wonderful thing. It is something that God has been teaching me for the past year and today was one of the best lessons. I needed it so badly and it was soothing to my soul to receive it. I need to remember that feeling the next time I am in the position to show grace. I hope I am able to be as gracious as my husband was to me. And, I also pray that God shows us a lot of grace when we take the truck in to be fixed so that I won't have to sell one of my children in order to afford to pay for the repair. 

A Day at the Apple Farm

Today we went to the Apple Farms at Oak Glen. I have never been before and I must say it was such a treat! We all loved it. First we went to pick a pumpkin. I love real pumpkin patches where the pumpkins are still attached to the vine...we didn't find a good pumpkin though...we ended up getting one from WalMart later in the day...but the Pumpkin patch was still fun. 

We didn't leave the patch empty-handed, we found ourselves a wandering goat who I think was plagued with mad-goat disease. Is there such a thing? Anyways, above is a picture of the goat banging his head against a barrel. Noah wasn't really sure what to do about that. Then below is a picture of the goat following us down the hill. He would stop when we stopped and would wait for us to catch up with him. We were a little wary of him because he just looked possessed or something. He ended up in the general store where they caught him and took him back to his cage. 
I thought this bench was a cute place for Noah to take a picture and I told him to put his hands up for it. The look on his face says it all, "My mom is as crazy as that goat standing next to her. Why am I raising my hands for no reason?"

The apple picking was the best part. We all had so much fun. 


I don't know if this is considered stealing or not, but I wanted to make sure these apples tasted good so I took a bite of one and then gave it to Noah. He loved it and he shared! 
I was too busy posing for pictures and picking apples to pay attention to what Maia was doing. 

Noah, at the end of the day, so happy to be going home with a bag full of apples that he picked himself. 

It was almost a perfect day until we got in the car to go home. Maia screamed the entire way home  and I once again contemplated throwing myself out of the vehicle to escape the madness. 

My Date With The Trash Man

Throughout the week, Noah asks about the trash truck. His phrase usually sounds like this: "Stash suck? Stash suck wokeen. Yah." We've had to tell him that on every day other than Friday the trash truck is "working" which is why we don't see him. Fridays is the day that our trash is picked up and also the day that Noah looks forward to all week. In Noah's mind, this is the day that the trash truck is "not working" because we get to see him. Every Friday morning, Noah wakes up to the beeping of the trash truck. I run into his room and remind him that it is trash truck Friday and he asks for "outside." I open the shutters on his window and he stands in his crib and gets a birds eye view of the trash truck picking up the trash down our alley way. Then we change his diaper, throw on some shoes and run outside as I wipe the sleep from my eyes and hope I don't see any of my neighbors. We follow the trash truck up and down each alley way on our street and the trash man waves to us each and every time he turns out of each alley way...Sheesh...the things we do for our kids. Three years ago, I would have never guessed that I'd be up at the crack of dawn every Friday (my day off) chasing the nasty smelly trash truck in my pajamas while hoping the driver waves to me. Now I find myself counting down the days in anticipation of Trash Truck Fridays with Noah. 

Bright Idea

 I try to wash my hair every other day because it is just too hard to do everyday now that I cannot put it in a pony tail. However, my hair tends to get oily which makes me look super gross and like I really need a shower. The other day, when I noticed my greasy hair, I remembered a beauty tip that a friend had given me a long time ago. She told me to put baby powder in my hair which would basically soak up the oil and make my hair ungreasy. So, the other night when my hair was a big grease ball even though I'd washed it the night before, I decided at 11:00 p.m. to put baby powder in it so it would not be oily the next morning for work. I couldn't really see what I was doing because the lights were off (Ricky was already asleep by the time I came up with this brilliant idea and I did not want to wake him up). I put a generous amount on my hands and combed it through my hair with my fingers and rubbed it into my scalp. Then, I went to bed. When I woke up the next morning and went to brush my teeth, I almost screamed at my reflection. My hair was almost completely white and my scalp was too. I shook out my hair until I was dizzy but all that did was leave a big white cloud in the bathroom. I had a dilemma on my hands. I couldn't take a shower because my blow dryer broke a few weeks before and so I wouldn't have time to air dry my hair and then straighten it before I had to go to work. I tousled, shook, and, combed my hair for a good thirty minutes straight which only made things worse. Now I looked like I had really bad dandruff. I ended up putting a thick headband in my hair and going to work smelling baby clean with non-oily hair. 

  Moral of the story: Bright ideas at 11:00 p.m. are not so bright after all. 

I Refuse to Starve My Child

Yesterday, I was at church and Pam (my kids' surrogate Grandma a.k.a. Bup) was holding Maia. After service, like usual, people came up to ooh and aah over her mostly because the Pastor's Wife was holding her. Then, they began to ask how old she was, when I said almost 5 months, the people exclaimed "Oh wow! She is tiny! I thought she was about 9 weeks."  After hearing three different people say that, I began to develop a complex. Am I starving my kid? Maybe I don't make enough milk for her. Oh my gosh what if her brain is not developing correctly and it's all my fault? My daughter is being malnourished!  I determined that when I got home, I would begin feeding my daughter cereal. I didn't care care that my doctor said to wait until she was 6 months old. I didn't care that Maia is probably not ready for solid foods. I was not about to give CPS another reason to pay me a visit. 

  When we got home, I took off Maia's clothes, placed her in her Bumbo and began the messy process. She had a really hard time keeping the substance in her mouth and kind of looked at me like I was crazy, but I was persistent and didn't let her out of the Bumbo until she finished all  her cereal. Never mind the gagging, and disgusted faces, she needed to be fattened up. Here are some pictures...she liked it...really...can't you tell?

A Few of This Week's Happenings

Forgot to pack diapers for Noah the day he went to my Mother-in-Law's house. Seeing how it is impossible to go anywhere with two babies, she was unable to go buy some. When I went to pick him up, he looked like he was wearing a thong diaper. Grandma put him in one of Maia's diapers and he was walking around the house in only his thong diaper and  t-shirt since his shorts had gotten soaked. 

I was transformed into my alter ego, Congalita, for a Murder Mystery Dinner party I went to. Hopefully I can post a picture soon. I had on really red lipstick and Noah kept staring at me like I was crazy and pointing at my red "hips." He wouldn't let me kiss him. He was scared.

Noah is learning the concept of counting. When he sees the tickle-me-Elmo and the Elmo book that we have he points to them consecutively and says "tee, six Elmo." "I correct him and say one two Elmos. There are two of them." He once again points at each of the Elmos and says "tee, six, Elmo." At least he gets the concept...how important are the numbers anyways?!  

My mother-in-law made an appointment for she and I to get our haircut by my sister-in-law Connie who works at a salon in Yorba Linda. We would go together and she would watch the babies while I got my haircut. Well, she told me to get off on Imperial so when I accidentally got in front of her on the freeway, I just exited Imperial and kept an eye in my rear view mirror to see where I should turn next. Bad move. I thought I saw her turn on a certain street so I made a U-turn and went back to that street and went right which is the direction I saw her turn. To make a long story short through a series of miscommunications on the phone I ended up in the ghetto far far away from the salon with two screaming children in the back seat one of whom wanted to know why "Bama's Car" was no longer in front of us. I was sooooo frustrated that I yelled at Noah and felt completely horrible and decided to just go home until I realized that my double wide stroller (which I cannot live without) was in my mother-in-law's car. We had to go back to the salon and get the stroller. By the time we arrived Noah was on his 3rd melt down over a dropped toy that I couldn't reach, Maia was screaming from being sick of being in her car seat, and I was in desperate need of some ear plugs and a shot of Patron. A drive that should have taken 20 minutes (the exit we were supposed to take was not Imperial) ended up taking an hour and 10 minutes and practically drove me to the edge of my sanity.

God made up for that horrendous experience by giving me a delightful Saturday morning. Here I am in my PJ's enjoying the silence of Maia still sleeping, (since 7:30 last night...don't freak out, I fed her at 11 last night and 7 this morning but she went right back to sleep) and Noah taking his nap. I was able to have a nice peaceful quiet time this morning, play with Noah, clean a little, talk to a friend, answer emails, and blog about it all. Total redemption for yesterday's morning. Thank you Jesus! 

Poop on My Finger

I am extremely exhausted today...like beyond tired. You know that tired where you feel like you could just collapse and sleep on the dirty kitchen floor? Yeah, that is about how I am feeling today. Anyways, Maia had a nasty poop diaper today when I got home from work and so I went to change her but since I was so tired I was not on top of my game. Usually, I would consider myself a professional diaper changer. I can change a diaper any time any place in record time with no mess. But today I would not have entered any diaper changing competitions. I left the diaper within her reach and since she is in that "learning to grab at things" phase she wrapped her little fingers around that diaper to of course put it in her mouth. Without thinking I yanked the diaper out if her hand only to feel a warm squishy substance on my pinky. It didn't even phase me. It's amazing how you get used to these things as a mother. I just kept going about the process without using my pinky, finished, put her in her crib and went and washed the poop of off my finger. I thought about it later and wondered if my non-reaction had something to do with my exhaustion, but I really don't think so. I think I am calloused to the grossness of baby poop. You kind of have to be when you have two babies, one who poops like three times a day all by himself. 

 Oh and as if poop on my finger and sheer exhaustion isn't enough, I noticed that Noah had a really stuffy nose before going to bed and  is developing a cold and will probably have a rough night...oh shoot he's woken up as we speak...it's going to be a looooong night. Sleep is a luxury that will elude me for awhile.