Potty Break

I sometimes feel like an auctioneer. Or a flea market entrapeneur. Some days, everything with a two year old, at least MY two year old, is a bribe. "If you stay in the cart in the store you can ride the horsey at the end", "If you don't put your shoes on right now- the ones WITHOUT red sparkles and a heel - we are NOT going to the park!" "You may have pizza AFTER you eat 2 pieces of broccoli!". Do I hear three pieces? Three pieces anyone, anyone three - don't pass up this deal- you may never see another like it! FOUR! four pieces. Anyone? Anyone?... Why doesn't she just do what I say because I SAID SO?!!! Doesn't she know by now that I am RIGHT?! - Always right. No questions. What happens when I run out of bargaining chips? What happens when she no longer cares about going to the park? what happens when she'd RATHER stay home and wear her sparkly red shoes? Then I never get to leave the house - NO! There must be a better way.

Well the truth is, I'm not always right. (I know, you may need to pause to catch your breath now, go ahead. Ok ready for more shocking news?) I DO make mistakes. I'm not always sure where I go wrong, but some days, I DO know I'm not doing SOMEthing right. The other morning I cleaned up 4, yes FOUR, accidents. 3 #1's, and 1 #2. - yep. That was the day I decided we were going to do this potty training thing, by golly. I got M&Ms for yet more bribery, which I didn't think I'd have to do. I talked Piper into making the "Choice" to wear big girl panties, all 3 pair that we wore this AM. (After the last accident I gave up and she went commando - sometimes you're just done.) I think there are some things you just can't bargain. No one gets to say "poop!" until you're good and ready to poop. It's just hard to imagine actually preferring to sit in your own brown trout than to set it free in the sewers where it can live out it's life happily among others just like it. But. I'm not 2 going on 3. And. I have control over more things in my life than whether I pee in my pants or the toilet. That's what it's all about ladies and gents. Control. At least at this point. Which is why, we are taking, yet another, break from potty training. Or mommy training as we should call it.

All Things Spring

Tulips. Green grass. Allergies. Flip flops. Picnics. Kite flying. And most interesting to Piper, Bugs. She has discovered Bugs. They move! They fly! They are EVERYWHERE! To that end, they are in our house. At least A bug is in our house. A spider. A big one. I don't like spiders. I'm a little afraid of the ugly arachnoid to be honest. But I don't want to pass that fear on if possible - fear being a learned behavior to some degree and all. So I am trying to feign interest in front of Piper. I'm trying to look at it scientifically. I have my degrees in science based subjects after all. Bugs are just bugs. Spiders are just spiders....with eight, hairy, creepy legs and a big, fat, round, creepy body, and eyes - let's not go there.
Today, we spent the morning tracking the spider from the vaulted ceiling to her home (EWWWWWWWWWW!) complete with offspring (EWWWWWWWW!) in the corner of my living room. Writing about this is making my nose itch. Piper named the spider. Her name is "Fly". Why did I encourage this? You do realize, I now have to look at Fly as a pet. I cannot kill Fly. I cannot release Fly into the wild - what would her babies (again, EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!) do without her? What am I doing?
Where did this irrational fear of spiders come from? I don't know. My mom isn't really all that creeped out by spiders. I'm sure she doesn't relish the thought of sharing her space with them, but she can rid herself of them without a pep talk before and psycho-therapy after. (And, by the way, the animated Charlotte - of "Charlotte's Web" did NOTHING to warm me to spiders. She was creepier than any I've seen in real life.)
And HOW am I really going to keep my fear unnoticed. I mean really. Piper isn't dumb - far from it. She knows when I'm sad. She knows when I'm mad. I'm sure she knows when I'm about to crap my pants. (I wish she knew when SHE was about to crap her pants - but that's another subject.)
Maybe a little dose of fear is good though. There ARE spiders that WILL hurt you. Fly is PROBABLY not one of them, but you make friends with one and before you know it, you're hosting "Spiders Gone Wild, 2008".
I guess I can deal with having Fly around. After all, she's more afraid of me than I am of her, right? And her little babies, they won't leave her cozy little nest. Right?.....RIGHT?! WHAT? They will scatter like the little baby Charlottes with parachutes (going "weeeeee!") in "Charlotte's Web" all the way up to my bed???!! (I guess that movie really scarred me.) Ok, ok, breathe. I can have Brooks kill Fly tomorrow. Piper will never know. I'm an awful mother. One with real fears and a very itchy nose and a need to sleep without worrying about baby spiders invading my space. Or snakes. Or cockroaches, GOD. I better stop now.

My girls

Although I started this blog as an outlet for myself and often use it in that way, I know someday my girls will read this and I also look at this as a journal of sorts for them to see their childhood through my point of view. Perhaps more helpful and funny when they become mothers themselves, if they are so lucky. I've been feeling so incredibly blessed and blissful about my children lately and wanted to write something to them to try to express how I'm feeling.

Piper, my first, my girl. Your big brown eyes and eye lashes that go on for miles just melt me. Your sweet nature and intrinsic love for your sister, your dogs, your friends makes me burst with love for you. You are at such a fun age. You make me laugh all day long with your antics, your "tickle kisses" (that I used to play with MY mommy), your grown up play and your goofiness that comes straight from the heart. I see myself (and your daddy) in you. Some days when we go to the park, you are all thrill seeker. Running without stopping, sliding without hesitation, joining in with other kids you don't even know. And some days, like today, you need your mommy by your side every step of the way. You like to sit back and watch the other kids. You like to take the slides on a lap instead of head first. You stay on the swings forever, because it's a good view of all that is happening around you. Sometimes I'd swear you're a Gemini. In any case, you are a lot like your mommy. Sometimes jumping right in and sometimes, not so sure of yourself and hanging on to your security. I rejoice when I see you jump in and I sometimes worry when I see you hang back. I was painfully shy for some time while I was young and I don't want you to suffer that. But I also want you to be true to yourself, so I don't force you to cross out of your comfort zone. You'll learn to do it on your own, I did. And one thing I learned along the way is that hanging back and observing sometimes is more genuine. When you make a friend, it's because you really like them. You teach me so much about being a parent every day. It's not about telling you what NOT to do, it's about telling you what you do right. Which, is a lot. I'm learning that you don't need much, but you do need some special time for just you every day. You need time to not be "Piper the big sister" but just to be Piper, my girl. And I'm sorry for the days when I can't seem to find the time to make that happen. You ARE my girl. And I AM so blessed to have you. Thank you, Love, for being such a good big sister, for eating your veggies, for making my laugh and for being "my girl".

Quinn (Our Quinny) you are so little still, but already have stolen my heart. When that sweet lower lip starts to stick out, that frown can be turned to a smile with such ease. Your big blue (will they stay blue??) eyes see it all and soak it all in. I love to watch you discover your hands, your mouth, your toys, your mommy, daddy and sister. You already sense comfort in your big sister. She calms you and it's only the beginning of that - take it from me, I know how comforting a big sister can be. I love how your fuzzy blond-ish hair sticks straight out after your bath. I love your soft, soft cheeks. I love your roly poly thighs. I love your goofy toothless grin and LOVE when you scrunch up your nose in what I think will become your giggle. I love your thoughtful gaze that takes it all in. Thank you for bringing that baby sweetness into our lives one last time. And thank you for reminding me to slow down and enjoy today for today.

My girls, don't grow up too fast okay?

Renaissance Man

My mom lays claim to the title "Renaissance Man". It is what she calls my husband. It's true. I don't know how I got so lucky. In this modern day, men still often play the role of provider and part time dad. And so many of those part time dads only do the fun stuff. Take them to a movie, a park, play in the back yard. My Renaissance Man does it all. Sorry to brag ladies, but it's true. I sometimes feel ashamed that I depend on him so much. I feel I should be more, do more. I should be able to handle a day like yesterday - which was a constant mom/2 year old power struggle, and I mean CONSTANT - without losing my temper and without disappearing completely when Daddy gets home. Is it fair that he works all day with 6th graders - yes, 6TH GRADERS- and comes home to Crazy Eyes 3 or 4 times a week? Is it fair that I get a free pass to go to the gym, or where ever, every night while he does duty? I don't know, but some days I feel like I take advantage. I really admire those moms who, although they would like a break, can survive without one and still raise admirable kids.

We're nearing the end of my maternity leave and, again, I'm realizing I NEED to work. I am so grateful to work part time so I can be more than a shadow in my kids lives. BUT I NEED to work. We're not talking financial need here. We're talking sanity. I love my kids so much and MAN do I love spending time with them. But when mommy doesn't do things to make her feel like a complete person, Mommy is NOT a good Mommy. Does that make me a Bad Mommy? I guess while married to Mr. Renaissance, it's ok. We balance each other out. How did I get so lucky? He fills in my gaps and I his. Here are some examples:

-He loses the pacifier for the 500th time today, I always know where a spare is.

-I have crazy eyes when he walks in the door, he immediately takes the baby from my arms and redirects Piper while sending me out the door before my head starts to spin.

-I set out meat for dinner with no idea what we'll do with it, he turns it into Chicken Fajitas.

-He wakes up late, yet again, and I begrudgingly get out of bed even though the baby is actually sleeping in to help get Piper ready (even though it's "his job") so they can get out the door. I don't do this graciously. Grumbling occurs. (I am so spoiled.)

I'm leaving with the girls next week to Arizona and as I was looking in the fridge today in preparation for my (seems like) daily trip to the grocery store the thought went through my mind, "I'm not going to get milk because the milk drinkers will be gone, but I should get stuff for Brooks to eat next week". The next thought was "He can go to the store and get what he wants for himself." I think I get so worn out taking care of the kids that I forget that, although he doesn't need or expect it, it would probably feel nice to Brooks to be taken care of once in awhile. But the difference between Brooks and Non-Renaissance men is that he'd agree that he can go to the store on his own and wouldn't want me to worry about it.

So despite the guilt I feel when other moms I know talk about the beautiful dinners they make for their husbands, or the arts and crafts projects they do with their kids all while maintaining beautiful, clean, germ-free households, I know our kids will turn out ok because we are a team. Together we make it work. I can be who I am, and part of that is being an ok mom, because Brooks is the amazing man/husband/father that he is. And it's ok if the house is a mess for a few more years. Brooks will get to it eventually. :)

Ker-Plunk

I dropped my cell phone in the potty. KER-PLUNK. Yep. Ever have a ker-plunk kind of day? And no, it was not BEFORE I went. The fact that urine is sterile is little consolation to me. The funny thing is, the first day after it dried out and started to work again, every time I flipped it open it called my brother in law.

Fortunately, that is not how every day goes. Piper is finding her groove as a big sister. She does some really cute things like every time Quinn hiccoughs she says "QUINN!" really loudly, then Quinn hiccoughs again leading Piper to believe she is making Quinn hiccough by calling her name. She often offers Quinn her "humidifier" (pacifier) when she's fussy. The biggest event around here lately, however has been the transition to the "Big Girl" bed. WOW. It's amazing what a jump that made in Piper's maturity. I don't know if it was the move to the bed that did it or the maturity was already occurring, allowing the big girl bed transition to happen nearly seamlessly. To avoid conflict (something I've become quite adept at, at least with a two year old) I took apart her crib before she came home on the day we were going to do it. However, one side of the crib was too heavy for me to move, so I just propped it against the wall with a blanket over it. Two year olds are smart - do NOT underestimate. When she came home and went into the "Crib" room she said, "What HAPPENED?". Brooks said, as we had planned (so as not to technically lie to her), "your crib went away" and quickly shooed her into her Big Girl room where she was to sleep that night. The next day, she led me into the "crib" room and said, "That's my crib!". "No it's not." I lied in a sickeningly easy manner. To which she replied "it's my crib, but it's for babies." Yeah, that's what I meant to say..... A true Mom of the Year moment.

Here's another MOY moment: we were at the grocery store today and Piper was riding in the car in front of the cart. She kept sticking her head out and I was worried she'd hit it on something. After asking her nicely, for the 36th time, she did it again and I actually thought about lightly bumping something with her head to teach her the lesson. I quickly and silently scolded myself for thinking such an awful thought. Then......Almost immediately after, we bumped in to a stack of plastic bins with her head. I SWEAR I didn't mean to! Steering those things are like driving an 18 wheeler. At least I don't think I meant to. Did I mean to? Oh God I'm awful. If I meant to it was totally unintentional. Can I still blame it on hormones???

Life with Quinn is going pretty well. She is a beautiful, healthy, sweet thing who has, unfortunately, hit her fussy stage. A quick note to those mothers who had "easy babies". DO NOT tell that to mothers going through a fussy stage. Please, have some decency!

She has had a couple of days where she could not be put down without crying. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to CONSTANTLY have a little being, sweet though she is, attached to you for an entire day? Brooks says it gives me "crazy eyes". He looks at my eyes when he comes home and can tell how the day went depending on if I have "crazy eyes" or not. Today, is not a crazy eyes day - hence my ability to take a few minutes to write. The child is actually sleeping, though I had to lie down with her for it to happen. Sleep is good, not matter how it is attained, at this stage! For both of us actually. Sleep reduces "crazy eyes" syndrome for mommies.

Quinn is almost 7 weeks old already and growing like a weed. She's got some plush little rolls on her thighs and a nice, round, big ole head. Her beautiful big eyes are still blue and are so easy to get lost in. The fussiness will end soon, so I'm trying to enjoy the sweet parts of this phase: having her sleep, actually "like a baby" next to me and feeling her belly jiggle when she laughs in her sleep. Her almost-but-not-quite smiles. Her downy soft fuzz/hair. Her sweet smooth skin. It's so good. All of the above reduces "Crazy eyes" too.

I'm looking forward to starting a new job in April. I got laid off about 4 weeks ago. Yeah, that was a Ker-plunk, crazy-eyes kind of day. (A big sting that I'm not ready to be politically correct about just yet so we'll leave it at that.) But I am looking forward to a new adventure and in hind sight, I think it was good timing. I didn't think I was ready for this big of a change professionally, but it turns out, I am. I think it'll be a good thing.

Life is good. It's all a matter of perspective.

Worry capacity FULL

It's funny the things you forget about mothering a newborn:

Did we REALLY just go through ANOTHER whole pack of diapers? They cost HOW MUCH?

Does she really need her face POWER sprayed with milk every time she pulls off? I wish my garden hose had that much pressure. (I've decided she must secretly love that. Imagine being sprayed in the face with liquid chocolate - it MUST be something THAT good.)

WHEN will I learn not to change a diaper on the couch without a changing pad underneath?

Is it essential to have 15 burp clothes in a 5 foot vicinity? And more importantly, which one did she pee on?

Yes, the plumbing is funky and really meant for twins. Sucking on one breast gets the goods flowing in BOTH - be prepared.

And then there is the endless stream of worry. Though it is less stressful the second time around, there is no shortage of new catastrophic dangers you need to avoid. Somehow as your first child grows these dangers seem less dangerous. But NOW you have this fragile being completely dependent on you to not let her get cancer, EVER. If she EVER gets cancer it's because I used the wrong bottles, lotions, soaps, detergents, left her in partial sunlight for too long without PABA free 50 spf sunblock - or worse yet sunblock with PABA! (what the hell is IS PABA?) All I know is that it's a marketers dream, this phase of mothering a newborn. All one has to do is put " (fill in the blank) Free!" on a product, and I'm sure it's something I should buy because I don't have time to keep track of which things are going to kill my daughter and which things may mearly make her retarded - excuse me, I mean "developmentally delayed". I cannot continue to worry endlessly about every new article I read. My capacity for worrying is as full as I want it to be. So, I will just spend the extra money to buy the "_________ FREE!" products. I'm a sucker.

I am truly enjoying this time though. I am worrying so much less this time, because I know it does me, and Quinn, no good. Which leaves me more time to soak it all in and appreciate it. Because I tell you what! It AIN'T happening again! At least not if it involves pregnancy. But really, I fall in love with Quinn all over again every time she looks into my eyes. It's that butterflies in your stomach kind of love. The kind where you could literally just EAT her up, but you settle for a million kisses on all her beautiful tiny parts. (well not ALL her parts...) And I get that same feeling watching Piper be a wonderful big sister. It's amazing to me how she loves Quinn intrinsically. Like Quinn was a piece of herself she didn't know she was missing. I'm so grateful they get to experience the wonder and joy of sister-hood. And so grateful I get to be a new mom one more time.

Initiation SUCKS

The Baby is here!! And initiation into parenting of 2 was a little rough today. Poor big sister Piper has been sick and did not sleep well last night. So she was a little needy all day. I was feeling pretty good about how things were going, however. She wanted to be in my lap while I was nursing her little sister, but we worked that out. She wanted me to play when I was putting little sister down for a nap. Worked that out too. In fact, I was just saying to my friend how I was sure it would get harder, but so far, I was feeling competant. (A nice change...)

It was time to feed little sister so I put Piper in front of the computer to play "games" with some juice and a cereal bar. She hadn't eaten hardly anything all day due to being sick but she LOVES those bars so I thought it was a sure thing. I came down to check on her before I sat down to nurse and noticed only one bite taken from the bar. Then I heard whining and saw arms reaching up to me and only heard "I want attention now that you're about to nurse" which was actually probably more like "mommy I don't feel well....". (Hence the name of this blog "Mom of the Year in full glory.) I asked her to come sit on the couch next to me with her snack while I fed her little sister. We had just settled in, baby going to town on the boob and Piper was standing in front of me still whining. All of a sudden, exorcist style, up came all she had to eat today: juice (red) and cheese. All. Over. Me. (Fortunately the baby was covered with a blanket.)

WHAT DO I DO FIRST??

The dogs are excitedly cleaning up (gag), Piper is crying and miserable, the baby is still eating, I'm soaking wet with puke - I'm surprised the phone and doorbell didn't ring. I set the baby down at a safe distance from this disaster - and now she's screaming because of the boob interuption - strip down Piper, myself and plop her in front of the TV, which I had JUST told her she couldn't watch any more of today..... Oh, is THIS what it's really like??? Oh boy. What did I get myself into?!

I haven't yet gotten to the "Birth Announcement" on my blog. So here it goes!

IT'S A GIRL!!!!!

Quinn Melaina Ramsey was born on January 30, 2008. 5 pounds, 11 oz. 18.25 inches long. 37 weeks TO THE DAY!! Can you believe it? I took my last Procardia (anti contraction med) at noon on the 29th. I had a OB appointment at 3:30 that afternoon. As I was sitting in the waiting room, I noticed I had had several contractions in the last hour. When the doctor checked me she said I was 5cm dilated, 90% effaced. She predicted I would have our baby by 3 AM. We went home and started dinner. When I realized the contractions weren't slowing, I sat down and started timing them. Thankfully, my best friend Kristen was here visiting. Soon, contractions were stronger and 5 minutes apart. We went to the hospital around 7pm. We were so excited and hopeful that this was really "it"! I was checked and was still at 5 cm, 100% effaced. So off we went! At about 11pm I was at 7 cm. Soon after, everything seemed to stop. Contractions slowed and were less strong despite our attempts to keep things going: walking, jumping jacks (just kidding - but only because my feet hurt too bad). I was getting exhausted, as was Brooks. I took a bath then laid down for a bit to rest. When I was checked again, I was still at 7 cm. That's when the Doctor (not my OB unfortunately) suggested breaking my water. From our previous experience with Piper (who was born 20 minutes after the water was broken), we were pretty sure that would do the trick. After he broke the water he said "well, I'll check back on ya in about an hour". Brooks's response was "or...sooner....?" We started walking again and before long I had to really focus on breathing through the contractions that were lasting about 80 seconds and about 30 seconds apart. All of a sudden.... "Pushing!!!!!!!!!!!" came out of my mouth. It hit like a freight train. The doctor came in and casually mentioned he would check my dilation then realized that was unneccessary as he could see the baby CROWNING. He saunters over the the sink and says, "I'll just wash my hands..." You haven't washed your HANDS yet? This baby is a-COMIN! Get your ASS over here! The whole time Brooks and the nurse are telling me to NOT push. Impossible. Absolutely impossible. Finally Mr. Clean Hands gets to the bed and in three pushes, she was out. Brooks saw first that she was a girl. I was so happy. I did not even realize how much I wanted another girl until that moment. About 2 minutes later Brooks exclaims "We don't have to buy any clothes!" From my water breaking to birth was about 38 minutes. Quinn was born at 3:15 am. (wow, that's good predicting Doc.) I got my dream. Quinn did not leave my side for the next day and a half that we were in the hospital. I slept that first night with her sweet baby breath on my cheek and we took her home the next day. It was such an amazing experience. One I never want to repeat. :) 2 is wonderful. 2 is more than enough.

Big sister Piper is in love. She loves to hold her (though this has been limited due to Piper being sick!), kiss her head, help change her diaper, tuck her in. She's having what I can only assume is normal extra neediness. And I'm happy to give in when I can.

Quinn did have to make a return visit to the hospital on Sunday, her 4th day of life, because her bilirubin levels continued to rise after her she was sent home and after being on a UV light at home for 2 days. But one peaceful night of her sunbathing under the lights in the hospital did the trick and she's doing great.

This is going to be an adventure. I see Piper in such a different light now. She is SO BIG! When did she get so big? I look at her hands, which were so petite 2 weeks ago, and I see huge-ness! I look at her precious face and realize, this is no longer a baby. I feel a little shell shocked by this most of all. I am a little sad that she's growing so fast. Then I look at beautiful Quinn and realize this is only the beginning. I'm looking ahead to Piper as a big sister. Such a good big sister. I'm excited to see how Quinn encounters her world differently or similarly to Piper. I'm glad we decided a long time ago that 2 kids were enough. All is well and complete in the Ramsey household. And I probably will not be as good about writing in my blog for awhile, forgive me. :)