Mad Mrs. E

Sunday, October 2, 2011

beauty and the beast

It's safe to say this kid is going to break many a hearts.
'Specially mines.
It's a curse to breed such good looking children...
le sigh...

Or maybe he won't be voted biggest flirt. He'll be the class clown.
Most likely to make you laugh milk out of your nose...

for now, the superlative goes to...

most likely to be loved by his mama...
aww...

and on the otherside of the rainbow..
(friday 9/30/11, dusk)

there's a 3 year old who is going through some phases...up, down, twist and shout,
follow the unpredictable and colorful pathways...

Some say the "terrible twos" others say "terrible threes." We're on the terrible three team.

It's like "opposite day." But everyday is opposite day. And then when you give him what he asks for he cries about it and says he wants the other thing. It's pretty fun. Especially when you're up every 2 hours at night to nurse a floppy baby.

"Enjoy this time."

Oh I AM.

For example, it's saturday morning and I decide to take both boys to the library. Dad stays home to get another hour of sleep. After an hour at the library I ask Milo,

"Do you want to stay for storytime at the library or go to the playground?"

"I want storytime."

So he sits with a few other toddlers and grabs an egg to shake along with the music. After a minute, he returns the egg and says to me,

"I want to go to the playground."

So we get in the car, I strap in a sleeping Ari. I strap in a content Milo. I get in, put the car in reverse...

And guess what happens.

"I WANT STORYTIME!

STOOOOOOOOOOOOORYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME!!!!!!"

IWANTSTORYTIMEIWANTSTORYTIMEIWANTSTORYTIMEIWANTSTORYTIME!

WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

and then the baby wakes up.

And then there is synchronized crying. It should be an Olympic event. (parents of at least 2 children, can you feel me?)

I make the executive decision to NOT go to the playground. NOT go back to library. Sad children need to go home.
Fifteen LONG minutes later...we arrive home. Crying/whining/screaming/end of the world noise is still full on.

The baby is soothed by nursing. Milo, however, is sent to his room to continue his tantrum without an audience. Not a time out, just time to vent his frustrations over being wishy washy and beyond reason and completely ridiculous. I suddenly hear banging and kicking on the walls and punching/banging on a window. Paired with blood-curling screams of anger.

Toddler rage issues are awesome...

I'm starting to remember why I picked up smoking again shortly after I gave birth to Milo.

And I really don't want to start smoking again...

Perhaps a precription for Ativan is in order...

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

One month old! (what?!)

If you've been watching/following this blog for awhile, you'll remember that every month for a year, I snapped a pic or twenty of Milo next to his monkey. It amazed/es me how quick these offspring grow in the first year!

So here I am again, but this time with a duck, to measure Ari on his growing adventure, the monthly weed-like growth of an adventure:

"It's ok, Ari, mom made me do this, too! Every month for a year!"

It's hard being 3 days old.

3 days

1 month

I'm 1 month old! ROCK ON! Fist Pump!

Grow on with your bad self!
xox

Monday, September 26, 2011

Ari's movie: from EPT to birthday

Sunday, September 25, 2011

on the breast

Due to tongue tie and a sleep deprived, impatient, and anxious first time mom, Milo was not breast fed. So I took the road less travelled and pumped 7 times a day and supplemented with formula. Yes, it was a major pain in the ass. I knew with Kid Dos that I would not go down that ridiculous road again. If Ari wasn't into it and I wasn't into it, then formula would be measured and poured into the loving arms of a sterilized bottle.

However, Ari has been a super champion -let me show you how it's done- feeder of the breast. I now "get it" when other moms speak highly of breastfeeding. I used to think they were lying. And I will breastfeed until it no longer works for one or both of us.

Or until he turns 5. Whichever happens first. (haHA!)

In the past month, here a couple few things I've learned:

You know you're a breastfeeding mom when...

-You're not embarrassed to push on your breasts in public to see which one you left on.

-You here the catch phrase, "The baby is fussy...he wants some of that 2%."

-You feel the tingle/burn of your milk coming in and think, "He must be hungry." -AND THE BABY IS SLEEPING.

-When you tell people, "He drinks from the tap."

-You go visit your brother and need to nurse. An hour later when you nurse again, you notice you're missing a nursing pad. As you're leaving and saying your good-bye's you add, "I lost a pad somewhere in your house. Sorry 'bout that."

-You leave the house sans cleavage and then develop amazing cleavage within hours.

-After nursing in the car you forget to snap your bra and pull down your shirt. And then you walk out, in public, totally oblivious to it.

-You shamelessly re-snap or unsnap your nursing bra in public.

-You have perfected your hide -n- seek skills.

-You wake up at night to feed the baby and can't tell if your sweating or if its breastmilk all down your chest/stomach/sheets.

-When your toddler finds your pump and pretends to express milk from his own chest.

-You're out of reach of some nursing pads, so you use whatever towel/shirt/baby blanket to stuff in your bra.

-Your baby unlatches because he's choking due to a strong let down.

-"Crying over spilt milk" has a new meaning to you.

- You wake up in the middle of the night and see a pond of milk on the sheets, milk pouring out of baby's mouth and pooled in his neck, boob hanging out...but you're too tired to care so you just shift the both of you to the side and go back to sleep.

-You swear it's like 90 degrees in your house.

-You marvel at nearly every diaper change that this poo/pee came from YOUR milk. AWESOME!

-You love how accessible, easy, and FREE the milk is! And maybe it's just me, but breastfed babies are just way, way cute:

Case in point

It doesn't get any more delish-ness.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

A dash of relaxation mixed with equal parts work and volunteering

Life under the big top of baby/toddler parallel raising phenomenon. It's about balance. It's about not enough sleep. It's about too much laundry and not enough wine in the fridge. And it's about discovering new Apps on the phone to occupy your mind when all you seem to do is breastfeed and change yet ANOTHER DIAPER.

It's about super human powers really...

75 percent (estimated, because TIME? Hell if I know...) of the time we're doing some version of this.

And I just keep on taking pictures. Lots and Lots of pictures...
Because someday (soon) I'll be looking back on these early days and musing about how tiny he was and how far we've come...and Oh, those were the days...

the days when he would sleep anywhere...

anytime...

and Milo...

oh, Milo, my Milo...
(finding alternate uses with the Moby wrap when not in use)

He's just a carefree 3 year old.
Oh, those were the days...

"Hi! I gave birth 19 days ago!"

My husband would argue that we're doing more of this than the other. And when I say "this" I mean cleaning/painting/rearranging furniture.
You know, all the shit the parenting police would be "tsk tsking" over.
Why aren't you SLEEPING WHEN THE BABY SLEEPS!

Husb takes a break from painting our bedroom to change the young darling...on a side note, I had completely forgotten how many diapers a newborn goes through...SHEESH!

p.s. We haven't started the cloth diapering yet...but it's coming! YesYesYes!