A New Year

Here's to 2008:

(Click on the little volume button on the left of the video to disable sound)
(Thanks Cass for the idea)

Speaking too soon

Three drops of pee it is.

One sticker.

That's all.

I tried to put her in panties last night and at first she refused, insisting on wearing her princess pull-ups, and when I finally did convince her, she peed all over the rug. Why will a cat vomit, a dog poop, and a kid pee on the only part of rug in an entire house of tile and hardwood?

She's now insisting on wearing the pull-ups at all times, although from the comments I received on the last post, maybe this is my problem. Maybe she loves her Princess Pull-Ups too much and doesn't see the difference between them and diapers. BUT the reason we went to pull-ups in the first place was because regular diapers were so snug on her even in the largest size and the pullups have much more give on the sides and don't dig into her skin.

I'm considering just getting rid of the pull-ups altogether and letting her pee herself until she gets it. But she often cries for a diaper. Am I doing the wrong thing by making her wear panties? Or should I back off and just let her decide. Jeebus, this sucks. She's so smart and advanced for her age in every other aspect, I always assumed this would be easy too. But this? Sucks. Moose teets.

I don't know what the right thing to do is. Push her to do better since I know she can? Or pull back and let her decide when she's ready?

OH

And did I mention we also have to get rid of the dreaded bippy soon? She only uses at night and naptime but she's still very attached to it. She'll be three in May and I most definitely want it gone before then. I don't want her to have any dental problems because of it.

So now I'm in the conundrum - potty training or bippy removal? Which comes first? Which will screw up the other more?

Someone send me vodka, please.

The Bane of the Potty

I've never been in a real rush to potty train Charlotte. I always figured she'd learn at her own pace and when she was ready. I've heard stories of kids regressing if pushed too hard and wanted to avoid that. Also, with the recent addition to the family, I knew we had to wait for her to get used to him before expecting her to not be the baby anymore. But now she's past 2.5 and I started thinking: NO MORE DIAPERS FOR THE LOVE OF SHOES.

Since she was 18 months, wee always kept a potty available and asked her often if she wanted to go. We started with a plain First Years potty in the bathroom. She'd sit on it but never did anything. On the advice of a friend, we got a seat for the regular potty and a step stool so she could use the "grown-up" potty. She asked to sit on it often and after weeks of waking up dry, I finally got her to pee on it. And she promptly lost her mind screaming about "her poops falling out" even though it was only a few sprinkles of pee. She never went on it again.

I figured we had to change tactics.

So Santa, being the mad genius he is and knowing her love of the Princess, brought her a Disney Princess Potty which came yesterday. Santa was running a little late in the UPS department. We woke up and I told her there was a present for her downstairs. She was very excited to see the potty and immediately wanted to sit on it but her diaper was already soaked. Hence, no pee. I tried to ban diapers in the house today figuring one day of cleaning up messes is better than one more damn day of diapers but she threw another fit screaming in hysterics that she needed a diaper, crying to the point of vomiting. I gave in and let her wear a pull-up since I didn't want to make the experience a bad one for her.

I've been loading her up with watered-down apple juice and have been putting her on the potty every 30 minutes. After the last episode of nothing productive, I came back in the kitchen to finish the dishes.

Ten seconds later, she's running into the kitchen carrying her potty by the handles, screeching "I PEED ON MY PRINCESS!" And indeed, there were three drops of pee in there.

We called Daddy and Mema and she told them her exciting news and then we sat down and make a Potty Sticker Chart. She gets three stickers every time she goes on the potty - one for each hand and one on her chart. I told her that when she gets 10 stickers on her chart, she can come shopping with me and pick out a toy. I'm not sure if she gets the concept, but she likes the idea of getting stickers (thank dog we got 98593859034850934 sticker books for Christmas).

So for the sake of my bank account (size 7 diapers and 4T pull-ups are quite pricey) and my sanity, let's all hope that this morning's dribbles turn into progress and she continues to piss on those princesses.

Warmth

Tonight, Mike and I took down our Christmas tree and decorations. I know it's early but when you're in a small house and your children's toys take up three rooms and are leaking into your living space, you start to get a little twitchy. Well, maybe YOU don't, but I do. I'm a twitcher. I feel much better now that all the clutter is gone although I do miss the warm glow of the tree twinkly lights.

Speaking of warm, it was 70 degrees here in Jersey today. And humid. Which probably explains why my throat feels furry, like I swallowed a cat or perhaps something smaller, like a hamster. The humidity kills my allergies when there are wet, moldy leaves on the ground. However, we did get outside this morning and Charlotte rode her tricycle, played on her swingset, and sat barefoot in the sandbox. In December.

I put Sawyer in the baby swing we have on the swingset, thinking that since he loves when Daddy tosses him in the air like a ragdoll, he'd love the swing. Um, no. He balled up his fists, tightened his eyes, and went stone cold and silent. I think he might have even started shaking. If he wasn't so scared, it would have been funny as hell. Ok, so it was still funny but he was scared enough that I plucked him out of it right away instead of running for the camera, which is what my immediate thought was.

I spent most of the day watching football and trying to explain to Charlotte why we hate the Jets. She didn't get it, but now she knows that Brett Favre is "GOING TO BREAK A HIP MOMMA!"

I love my kid.

Post-holiday-post

Why is it that on the days the toddler actually sleeps past 7 am, the infant wants to par-TAY at 6 am?

Or when the toddler is "skeered MOMMA" and won't go back to sleep at 5:30 am, the infant sleeps till 7:30?

Sleeping overall has been better around here. Sawyer is still rolling onto his belly and getting pissed off. He can roll back over on the floor but won't do it in the crib. He's also started wedging himself in the corner, flipping around, etc. We're up at least once a night to rearrange him because he's got himself in a pickle and is pissed about it. Mike said something the other day that summed up the essence of our nights: "It seems like we spend half of our night trying to get our kids back to sleep." Yes. Yes we do.

But it's better. Not great, but better. I'm functioning well and I hope as I continue to eat well and get back to the gym, that it will get even better. Although, I'm sure by the time Sawyer is sleeping through the night, I'll be collecting AARP letters. (I'd say Social Security, but it seems unlikely my generation will get any of that.)

I hope all of you that celebrate Christmas had a wonderful magical holiday and that you're not buried beneath the rubble of what looks like an exploding toystore. Because I'm a little (okay a lot) crazy, most of Charlotte's toys were put away and organized after she went to bed Christmas Eve. She got so much stuff, I put some in a bucket to pull out "for a rainy day." I'll take them out slowly so that she can enjoy them each, instead of just wading through a sea of pink and purple sparkly things. Of course, she still has so much stuff she doesn't know what to do with herself.

One of her favorite things is this:



A vintage kitchen that took Mike and my brother-in-law Mark almost two hours (and Mark is in construction management) to put together. To their credit, this was some heavy duty piece of furniture and they WERE drinking and doing this while I sat on the couch sniping Nazi bitches in Call Of Duty.



There was princess stuff.





I counted no less than 10 pairs of shoes and slippers and I am not exaggerating.



There were art supplies galore:








There were funny faces:



There was family:



And glee over Wii games and Kinex:






There were attempts at getting a decent picture of Daddy and Charlotte:





There was Dora stuff



and boas.



And of course, the ever-present happy fuzzy-headed baby



Hope you had a great Christmas!

This just in

The breeder sent a Christmas picture of Phoebe!

Tidbits

Random Pic of Baby in Racoon Hat:



Random Pic of toddler in her favorite hat. One of my mother's friends knitted it and it's so urban hippie and she loves it. She's far more stylish than I.



I was doing dishes the other day and noticed he got really quiet in his jumperoo. This is why. Poor guy jumped himself to sleep.



I got around to posting the recipe for what I've named "Ma's Peppermint Cocoa Cookies with White Chocolate Chips" over on Chop. Stir. Mix. Don't they look yummy? They're like a slightly chewier thin mint.



Cass has started posting her weekly pictures and weights over on Life After. We've also revamped the site and Cass did a quick redesign to include everyone - not just us post-partum - and we invite anyone who'd like to join us. She's also started a Flickr pool for us to put our week-by-week pictures where we WILL be watching ourselves shrink. Iif you'd like to join click here to request.

Shoot one of us an email or leave a comment if you think you'd like to be a part of this.

Countdown

These past few days have been filled with cookies, shopping, baking, shopping, working, cleaning, baking, shopping, ad nauseum.

I love it though. Even though I have $3.97 left in my bank account, I am going to have a wonderful magical holiday, complete with heartburn and a hangover.

We do Christmas Eve at our house and always have. It's when we exchange all the gifts. Santa comes and leaves one or two big unwrapped presents (this year, it will be a kitchen, train set, and keyboard) but mostly we make it a family occasion the day/evening before.

I love hosting this holiday and we've been to the food store at least four times already to get all of the things we need. We make it an all-appetizer night. No big meal. Just lots of little fun things. This year, I'm making beer bread, homemade pigs in a blanket, crab meltaways, spinach dip in the pumpernickel bread, and of course the obligatory crackers and cheese, chips and dip. Mike is making his famous butternut squash tortellini with a brown butter sauce with walnuts and cranberries. It's a Giada De Laurentis recipe and even though I want to feed that skinny bitch a burger, she sure knows how to cook.

I've already made three kinds of cookie dough (one which my mom and I concocted this past weekend: Peppermint Mocha White Chip. Recipe to follow on Chop. Stir. Mix. tomorrow) which are hardening in the fridge. It's so much easier to roll them in plastic wrap, let them harden and then cut them instead of messing with the spoons. I'm also making my famous chocolate cake from scratch with my homemade chocolate icing - all of which is a lot easier than it sounds and so much better than the box.

Mike is actually working Christmas, but it was his bargain for Christmas Eve off and he doesn't have to go in until 10. We'll have plenty of time in the morning to do Santa and the stocking, which by the way is four feet long, literally. It's a handmade one from my grandmother and everyone has one. It took Mike and I $180 to buy enough stocking stuffers to fill it for Charlotte - we got her all new art supplies, some candy, some little toys, etc.

Christmas Day I also start what I'm calling Journey to my Jeans, because I have this pair of jeans I only wore a few months in my life and I want to get my ass back in them. Even if it takes a year of me posting weekly pictures and facing that scale, I WILL get in those jeans. I also have another post up at Life After on body image and how it can affect a marriage if you're interested or would like to weigh in (no pun intended).

I'm actually really looking forward to this new start and it will be the best Christmas present I can give myself.

Well, except my puppy who I pick up in THREE WEEKS!!! Could you not just EAT her?


(She's all the way on the left. I think. Hell, who cares? They're all cute as hell. Doesn't the one on the right look like a lamb?)

So, what are your plans for Christmas? What are your traditions?

Rollin'

Remember that cute little baby that finally learned to roll over from back to belly? Yeah, well he's apparently forgotten that he knows how to roll from belly to back. So now his cute new fun trick is to roll over in the middle of the night and scream like someone is plucking out the four hairs on his head with rusty tweezers until one of us goes and flips him.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH.

That is the sound of my soul dying as we were finally starting to get some sleep. I'm sure it's a phase and will pass quickly and in the meantime, we're in a tummy-time bootcamp so he can re-learn. Problem is that he HATES his tummy and even though I know he can roll over that way, he refuses and just mushes his face into the floor screaming like a surly teenager.

He goes down at 630/7 and we've been dream-feeding him around 10 pm before we go to sleep. He finally got the concept and now sleeps till 5, when he'll take another bottle and go back to sleep until his loud ass sister wakes him up. We've finally been getting good chunks of sleep and it feels GOOD, especially now that I'm not coughing myself stupid all night.

Quick Poll

I am feeling much better in the respiratory area. Coughing is minimal and the cold seems to have gone. Whether the antibiotics made the difference or the virus ran its course is unknown. What I do know is this: these antibiotics are seriously effing with my intestines. I run the gamut from nausea to No Good Very Bad belly aches. I am definitely NOT pregnant, so remove that thought.

What do I do? Keep taking the antibiotics as prescribed for the next few days and suffer through Intestinal Distress Gate'08? Or assume the virus has passed and stop taking them?

EDIT: Husband informed me I WILL BE taking the antibiotics for the prescribed time because he doesn't want to listen to me whine me to get sicker. However, I'm still interested if anyone has any ideas on how to help this stomach issue.

I've been taking acidophilus to try and counteract the killing of the good bacteria in my body but it doesn't seem to be working all that well.

The Anatomy of a Milestone

Step 1: Think about objective. Scope out area.


Step 2: Get some momentum.


Step 3: Swing leg in the air like you just don't care.


Step 4: Tilt back giant dome to allow body to follow.


Step 5: Mission Complete.


Step 6: The Holy-Shit-I-Just-Did-That Face complete with the fuzzy spiked hair for added "wow" effect.


Step 7: Pride


Step 8: Woo the ladies with new skill.

In which I get all historical on your asses

Christmas for many is a deeply religious holiday, celebrating the birth of Jesus who many believe is the son of God, which I deeply respect. Now, hold that thought and I'll be back.

--

Historically, before Jesus, the Pagans celebrated a few holidays around this time. One of them was Saturnalia (if you watched Big Bang Theory this week, that was slightly explained) - the celebrating of Saturnus, the god of agriculture.

The holiday began on December 17 and lasted through December 23, despite both Augustus and Caligula trying to shorten the celebration. It was a time of complete and utter celebration, which often turned to debauchery. People adorned themselves and their homes - covering their bodies in jewelry and their houses with wreaths, garland, and gold bows and ribbons, the traditional color of Saturnalia. Roles were reversed and masters served their slaves and parents served their children, slaves were allowed to gamble, schools were closed, people gave each other gifts, feasted, drank and made lots of babies.

By the third century of that era, the feast of Saturnalia was eventually replaced with the celebration of Sol Invictus, the celebration of the Winter Solstice, which was on December 25th. It is through this holiday that The Mummers seemed to have emerged - a group of people dressed in festive costume going from house to house, singing and dancing - which may have given birth to modern caroling. The word "yule" means "wheel" and a yule log was burned as a symbol to honor the sun. Mistletoe was revered as a sacred plant and the kissing under it began as a fertility ritual.

By the fourth century, the Christians assigned the celebration of the birth of Jesus on this day as it was already being celebrated by the pagans they were trying to convert. Based on historical descriptions found in the Bible, Jesus was more likely born in the summer or early fall.

The Greek letter "chi" which looks like an X was often used by theologians to abbreviate "Christ." The "-mas" part of the word Christmas came from the Latin word for "mass." So, next time you see a bumper sticker or someone tells you to "Keep Christ in Christmas," you can remember this. This is of course not to say that there isn't a huge argument that Christmas has in fact become desecular, many people forgetting the reason they celebrate the holiday. But it is a piece of historical evidence that people are not trying to "cross out Christ" but that it simply started hundreds of years ago as a simple abbreviation.

Okay, so let's recap:

-Saturnalia was a feast of food and drink in which much merriment was had. People partied like Roman rockstars, exchanged gifts, and decorated their homes with boughs of holly.
-Sol Invictus, the Winter Solstice, replaced this holiday and created The Mummers, yule logs, and mistletoe.
-Christians chose this day, December 25th, to celebrate the birth of their Lord because the people they were trying to convert already celebrated this day.

Now, back to my original thought. Christmas, for many people - many of my friends - is a very religious holiday. They go to church, they read the Bible, they teach their children about the birth of Jesus to virginal mother Mary, and celebrate the birth of their Lord and Savior. When the actual event happened is irrelevant, but for many Christmas is a day to celebrate their sins being wiped clean by the sacrifice of a man who was born as the son of God. This is something I truly and deeply respect.

But it doesn't mean I have to believe the same way or celebrate Christmas the same way. It doesn't mean I have to believe in "the" God or that Jesus was his son.

I can celebrate these holidays with my family however I want because men and women die each day ensuring I have that right.

I will teach my children about Jesus and about God. I will let them read the Bible if they want. I will not withhold any religion from my children, and let them chose any or none to believe in.

But Christmas doesn't have to mean the same thing to everyone. It is a time of magic and wonder, merriment and feast, giving and love.

No matter how it started, how you celebrate it, or what you believe, there is certainly magic in the air this time of year.

Love. Give. Laugh. Eat. Drink. Be Merry.

Rated E for "Effing Violent"

After we put the kids down, straightened up the house, got everything ready for today (read: set the coffee pot and did the dishes to make sure the coffee travel mugs were clean), we finally sat down on the couch to play Call of Duty.

"Did you play through the Japanese board today?" Mike asked me.

"Yes, but a different one. They started you in the middle of a bunch of Japanese banzai attackers running at you. It took me like 15 tries to beat."

"Well, you finished it at least."

"Yeah, once I figured I had to stab those banzai bitches in the neck and could shank the others with my bayonet."

"I love you."

Verdict

Bronchitis and a possible lower respiratory tract infection which could "quickly turn to pneumonia and YOU NO WANT THAT over Christmas," says Dr. Liu.

Bollocks.

I'm on the damn antibiotics.

I caved

I have a doctor's appointment at 2:15 today.

The coughing was better overnight, but I also totally drugged myself with OTC meds before I went to sleep. It seems back in full force this morning.

On a non-related note, I starting posting over at Life After again after totally being a slacker. This time, I talk about accountability. And because I am having a seriously hard time finding motivation to lose the rest of this weight, I will be posting my weekly weight, pictures, and have committed to 25 days of exercise in 37 days. In front of the world (ok, well maybe the few hundred people in the world that reads this blog, but that's enough for me).

Hold me.

Stubborn

I'm stubborn. Huge surprise right?

No, like really stubborn.

So when it comes to having a cold, I know I will fight it off. I wait it out, drink tons of fluids, take extra vitamin C and zinc. And usually, within a couple of days, I win.

I am losing this one.

I'm allergic to sulfa antibiotics so I grew up not taking very much of anything. That and having a mother who's a nurse, I've had it drilled that "viruses are viruses" and your body needs to fight them, and antibiotics only help with bacterial things. As time has gone on and I've had children and read and researched, it has become increasingly evident that we are a society of pill-pushers. That doctors are giving people and their children antibiotics for every sniffle, cough, and ear infection to placate. Then they feel better in 3-5 days and think the antibiotic that has cured them, when in reality, that's the time it takes a virus to run its course.

When you have a cold, antibiotics will do nothing except help your body build an immunity to the antibiotics, rendering them useless when you actually DO need them. So other than when I was in labor or had back surgery, I haven't had an antibiotic in 10 years or so. And as a result, have a stellar immune system, where I get maybe one cold a year.

Because of my allergic reaction to one form of antibiotic and my belief that they're usually unnecessary, my children have never had them and thankfully, have never been sick enough or had an illness that has warranted them. Every cold, cough, snotty nose, and puking episode has been fought off, cleaned up, and moved on.

I realize that there are most definitely some issues, sinus infections, bronchial infections, etc., that will be helped and often NEED antibiotics to cure, but I think as a society, we focus too much on medicating things that don't need to be medicated.

All of the above being said, when do you know when you need something? When do you know when it's no longer a virus or something you can fight on your own?

I started this cold last Sunday and it's been a full week. It has seemed to settle in my chest and take up residence, like those disgusting little mucous families on the Mucinex commercials. I am functioning fairly well, though I'm sleeping even less if that's possible. I cough all night long. I even cough in my dreams and wake myself up. I keep Mike awake. I've offered to go sleep in the finished basement but he refuses to let me do that.

I cough all day long, way worse at night, and constantly feel like I have to clear my throat. There's a rumbling deep in my chest I haven't heard since I had asthma as a kid. I can't take a deep breath without being sent into a fit of coughing.

I keep thinking I'll wake up better and won't have to call the doctor. I'll give it one more day, I'll give it till Wednesday, maybe I'll see how I feel after the weekend. I'm always making an excuse, hoping that I'll fight this stupid cold and win.

When do I throw up the white flag?

Memories Made

She may not remember this day, but her father and I sure will.

Waiting for the train:




Riding the ferris wheel in Toys R Us:



Evidence that she is my child, she spent 90% of her time in Toys R Us in the book section.



She literally sat and looked at this book for 20 minutes and without complain, put it back when I told her she couldn't have it. I may say a lot about her being the devil, but she never throws fits when I tell her she can't have something she wants. She wordlessly puts it back on the shelf and goes about her way. But she loved it so much, I snuck another copy to Mike to go buy for her for Christmas from Santa, along with a Barbie mermaid she fell in love with while we were in here:



Then we walked



until we decided we needed beer something to eat and stopped at one of my favorites - Harverst Moon Brewery. Charlotte got her own "magic soda"



-- a Shirley Temple.

By the time we were done sampling beers eating, it was finally dark out so we made our way to Rockefeller Center. Since I wasn't pay much attention, we overshot it by a few blocks. This was not a problem for Charlotte because due to Mommy's poor navigation skills, we got to go to Build-a-Bear, where of course no child of mine would choose a sissy bear:



After she held her poor dinosaur by the throat, stuffed her, put a very terrifying "roar" sound in her, and dressed her in a butterfly fairy dress, she named her "peepee."

Two-year old humor never ceases to amaze me.

We walked Fith Avenue a little more and looked at the store windows, where of course this was Mike's favorite:



We actually have no idea what it means, but it was still funny.

We also got a chance to go to the Disney Store, which if you haven't ever been in NYC, is basically like crystal meth for toddlers. On the upside, Richard Kind held the door for me as he was walking out with a little girl.

Charlotte fell in love with the Ariel dresses but they were $60 and um, no.



We did let her pick out and buy a Little Mermaid playset for being such a good girl all day so she did not leave the Disney Store empty handed.

Finally, we got to the tree:



where I put Charlotte on a literal pedestal thing so she could see better and she proceeded to screech with glee at the top of her lungs so loudly, a crowd of about 100 people started laughing and squealing back. She'd squeal, they'd squeal, she'd clap, the whole plaza would clap for her. She put on a little show from her perch:



Finally it was time to head home. But not before some subway dancing:



where again she had the whole crowd cracking up.

That's my girl.

And these are OUR memories.

Making Memories

Everytime we plan something big with Charlotte, something I know she'll love, there are always the people who say, "But she won't remember any of it."

They're probably right. I don't remember anything from when I was two.

But I'd like to think that even if she doesn't remember things, she remembers the feelings behind them. I want her to remember being happy. And to me, being happy and having great experiences helps mold her character and make her into the person she will become. Even if she doesn't quite remember the event. If something ever happens to us, I want her to know we loved her enough to make these memories with her, even if the only recollection she'll ever have of them will be in photos.

So tomorrow, we drop Sawyer off at my mom's and we hop on the train. Within the hour, we'll get off in Penn Station, in the middle of Times Square and meet my sister, friend, and nephew. First, we'll go here:


(Toys R Us)

where they have this:



and this:


(A life-size Barbie dreamhouse. I swear, she's going to pass out.)

Then we're going to try and hit here for the Christmas puppet show:



Then, we'll make our way down 5th Avenue looking at all the lights in the window displays. By nightfall, we'll end up here:

Rockefeller Center

She may not remember it, but it's going to be one hell of a day.