I love my kids so much, I really do. But the whining. Oh the whining. It goes right through me.
Instead of those signs that say Live, Love, Laugh, I'm getting them a set that say Whine, Cry and Be Territorial of Your Goods by Saying MINE Whenever the Other Sibling is Holding Something of Yours.
Today was my first day of nothing since August 2.
Just nothing. Finally. No work, no drill, no fun stuff.
But I accomplished a bunch.
Yay for Newport and bachelorette parties with fun girls. Not so sure if I should say yay for the espresso XO tequila but last night it seemed like a very good idea.
And yay, especially for people that ask "what's your secret?" when they find out your age.
I'll take that.
Rocking a pair of high heels for work today. But bringing along sandals, just to be safe. I'm very sensible like that.
Usually I only wear cute, although somewhat orthopedic looking shoes, but this black pair that make me about 4 inches taller were on my shoe rack, calling to me this morning.
If they don't work out, I'll never wear them again.
So, I am big on grooming. I think it is important for people to take care of themselves.
I can accept the things that people can't change - like nose hair (euw) and ear hair (euw) on guys, as long as they take care of it. I don't mind if they have it, as long as they trim it when necessary and it doesn't get out of control. It's not pretty, but what can ya do, really.
I do have some certain issues I can't ignore. Long fingernails on a guy or dirty fingernails on anybody make me feel a little bit ill and I think it's completely wrong.
On that note, I'm trying to make sure that my kids realize the importance of keeping themselves hygienically clean now, so when they are older it's not even a question.
So.
I haven't had my toes painted in about a month. They really needed some love.
The day that John was supposed to have off and that we didn't have anything else going on- today - he ended up having to do work at home. That's fine, but I am not letting that stop my toes from being cute.
John is at home working but at a point where he can break and Julia could really use a nap. He puts her down and TJ and I skeedaddle out.
We go to a new nail place in Providence.
He brings his Tag book.
We get seated in side by side black leather pedicure chairs. He looks at me to turn his on. Within ten minutes, he's changing the settings and the back massager is vibrating his head like he's at a Guns n Roses concert.
He's smiling at me and nodding with approval.
I ask the girl if they would cut his toenails. She agrees and I'm psyched because whenever we try to do it at home, it turns into SCREAMING and YELLING and CRYING and whimpering. It doesn't work out well for anyone. It's almost like the end of the world.
"TJ, she will cut your toenails so gently," I tell him.
"No thank you," he tells me.
"TJ, Daddy will give you extra money in your allowance."
"No."
"We'll take you out for a pu pu platter."
"No."
"I will kiss you and hug you."
"No."
"I'll buy you silly bands."
Pause.
"OK!"
So, he lets the girl cut his toenails, file them, put lotion on them, put a hot washcloth on them and massage his feet.
The $2.99 I spent on the silly bands at the CVS next door is the best money I have spent in a long time.
How to make your Mommy cry if you are 2 1/2 years old:
As your mommy is about to walk out the door, make a sad face and say "Mama, don't leave."
I feel as though I have fallen off the face of the earth, or maybe into a parallel universe.
I give TJ a big irthday hug and tell him "I love you, my little baby."
TJ: Don't call me that any more. I'm a big boy now.
My hair has been called curly.
I have called it frizzy.
But never, in my 40 years, have I heard it called squiggly.
Until today.
I can't stop thinking about this statement that the man behind me at the restaurant said to his date (?) tonight:
"All the American dentists recommend flossing your teeth every day. You should try it."
I can't stop thinking about this statement that the man behind me at the restaurant said to his date (?) tonight:
"All the American dentists recommend flossing your teeth every day. You should try it."
TJ tells me he is going to be a veterinarian.
Julia wants to be an airplane pilot.
Liki, or Tiki, I never remember, the yellow one is still missing.
TJ is convinced he escaped like Nemo.
In the last month or so, I have had two mishaps with the iron, both resulting in pretty bad burns on my arm.
The first one I thought was bad, it's an inch or two across, but it's a relatively thin burn that happened when I was reaching for something and touched my arm on the hot iron, while I was ironing (this is important to know for the rest of the story). I moved it away quickly but it still got me. It is in an awkward place, it's on my wrist, about an inch down and now I have a scar straight across my right wrist that I am really self-conscious about.
The second incident was way worse. We have a Rowenta iron that turns off automatically. Good feature, right? The only thing is, that if it's left plugged in and gets jostled, it gets turned back on. Not a good feature.
I wasn't even ironing this time. I was in the bedroom, where I had recently relocated the iron and ironing board. I had been meaning to bring them back down to the basement, because it just wasn't working out. But I hadn't yet.
I somehow managed to press the top of my left arm against the hot iron, hard. And it must have been for a while, because this burn was much worse. It is about two inches across and half an inch wide. And blistered and turned colors and HURT. I couldn't believe it.
Neither one of them are pretty. The newest one is finally healing and it looks bright white against my tan arm.
Whenever someone asks me what happened, I tell them I was ironing and I had an accident.
No one can believe that I iron.
That's the response I get from almost every single person. "You iron?" they ask me, incredulously. "Yeah, don't you?" I ask.
No.
Nobody does.
Seriously.
Me and my mom.
That's it.
In the whole entire world, we are the only ones left that iron.
I love to iron. I only really iron pants and certain shirts. It's relaxing to me. I throw in old Seinfeld episodes and watch those and iron lots of clothes at a time. I don't put clothes into my closet that need to be ironed until they have been ironed. My mom used to do the same thing. John calls it ironing in bulk.
I have been leery of ironing since this happened, but I'm sure I'll get back into the groove.
Hopefully if I'm wrinkly, people will understand why.
I had a dream I lost 16 pounds. I looked exactly the same, but the scale said 16 lbs less and I was super psyched.
There's no way in hell I'm starting a new job and not getting at least SOME cute new outfits.
My closet is looking better...
I'm also nesting. Cleaning, tossing, organizing.
Feels good.
The good news is that I can stop subscribing and receiving emails from careerbuilder, monster and rijobs.
The bad news is that many of my old work clothes don't fit. The good news is that I get to go shopping. John tells me I shouldn't expect my clothes from six years and two babies ago to fit, necessarily. The bad news is that my credit card is mad at me and so is my waist. So maybe I'll wait until I'm in a better place, weight-wise and money-wise to update my wardrobe and make do with what I have until that happens.
We got Julia's hair cut over the weekend.
Just a few inches cut off the back. It was getting too long compared to the front. Although she still has her short little baby hair underneath, which has yet to grow.
The hairdresser, Yolanda, said "we gotta take care of that Baby Mullet!"
Julia sat there very quietly in the chair and said over and over, very softly, "I'm getting my hair cut."
It's more of a bob now and really cute.
John says we won't have to get it cut another for another 2 1/2 years.
Julia wants to do everything that TJ does.
Including not taking a nap.
Sometimes when Julia does take a nap, I let TJ watch tv.
But if Julia hears him asking me, forget it. No nap for her. "I want to watch tv," she'll tell me.
So TJ and I came up with a secret code. If he wants to watch tv, he knows to ask "Can I eat the cauliflower?" and we both know what that means. Julia has no interest in cauliflower.
It gets pretty funny sometimes with my 4-year-old asking me "Pleeeassse, Mommy, I really want to eat the cauliflower!"
Nothing prepares you for running outside. Except for running outside.
Ran on Blackstone Boulevard for the first time in a long time today. I do go to the gym and do usually at least 30 minutes of cardio a couple or three times a week. It's so different than running on the earth.
Did 30 minutes, some walking was involved. Felt good, though, really good. Wish I had the opportunity to do it more.
I wish I could get my ipod to sync with my Nike shoe apparatus thing. (There's definitely another name for it, but I forgot it right now)
Julia, on her Elmo phone: Hi Elmo, it's me Julia. I love you. Bye!
As we are walking out of Nordstrom, with no new shoes, because my feet are an 8.75, not an 8, not an 8.5, not a 9, TJ says "poor mommy."
I am in the kitchen making food for Julia and I hear her saying the alphabet from her seat in the dining room.
A...B...C...D...E...F...G...H...I...J...K..L...M...N...O...P...Q...R...S...T...U...V...W...X...Y...Z.
She knows the entire alphabet!
And we didn't teach it to her.
Hm. I wonder what else she knows.
John cleaned out the fish tank and still no Liki.
Seriously? The fish just disappeared.
Today, Julia is messing with a light switch. On, off, on, off, on, off, on, off.
TJ decides he wants to do it too.
So, he moves her aside. In not a nice way. And starts turning the light switch on and off.
Julia sidles up to him, and BOOM, gives him a giant push and knocks him right down on the floor.
She's only done anything like that one other time, when she was really little and TJ used to get in her face. CHOMP. She bit his nose and he never did it again.
TJ loves to call certain people. Mainly his grandparents, his Auntie KK and Shelby.
He leaves sweet messages, like this:
Hi, it's TJ, calling you to say hi. I love you. Bye.
He speaks clearly and slowly and sweetly.
He has a new thing lately. At the end of the message, he adds in something crazy, like "You're a cow." or "You're a mountain." or "You're a house."
Both he and Julia think it's hilarious.
We seem to be missing Liki, the yellow fish.
Tiki is the only fat fish in the tank now.
I am convinced that Tiki ate Liki. John says it's not possible. I'm not so sure.
Why do weekends have to end.
Friday was a motorcycle ride (only my second on John's bike, it's hard with two little kids!) to do an errand, then a quick run to the beach, then pick up TJ and go to lunch. Then pick up Julia, go to the gym and finally home.
That was only one day.
Saturday we went to Six Flags for the entire day which I am totally convinced would be a fun place to go without the kids. It's hard because of their different ages, they can't go on the same things, so John or I would have to stay with one while the other did something else. Or waited.
We had fun with them, but I was dying to go on the Bizarro roller coaster which didn't happen. Ended up going on Catwoman's Whip with TJ three times instead. And lots of little planes and cars and helicopters that go around and around in circles, with both kids. TJ and Ava and Nichea and I did go on a tube down a river. Nichea was drenched. It ran in their family, as Jesse ended standing underneath a bucket the size of a small house that tipped when filled with cold water. TJ may have been under it too.
The water park was fun, but again, was mostly chasing around the little ones while huge water slides and a tubarubing manmade "river" was calling my name. They had a blast and we didn't get home until about 11 pm. Yawn.
Yesterday we spent the day at John's friend's house with their two kids for a bbq. A fun day.
Now I'm ready to start my relaxing weekend and do stuff around the house. Wait, what do you mean it's Monday?
In car with TJ. Go through a yellow light. Ooops. Red.
TJ: MAAAmmmmaaaaAAAA. You just broke a red light.
He looks behind us.
Good thing no police officers saw you.
TJ has been to the movie theatre to see three movies in his four (almost five) years.
#1. The Princess and the Frog.
A date with his little friend Ava. He loved it. I loved it.
#2. Toy Story 3.
A family outing.
I thought it was scary, a little. He loved it.
#3. Despicable Me.
Just he and I, on Julia's first day of school.
He watched about 50 minutes of it, then declared it "too old" for him so we had to leave.
My little Squee started going to daycare ("school") today.
She wore the cutest little blue batik dress with fishies on it and her white sunglasses with diamonds on the cat eyes. And socks and sneakers. A girl has to be able to run.
She had a great time. She is already learning names and making friends. And she told me she wants to go back tomorrow to see her new friends, Katiebell and Ellie.
Between birthday parties, other events and drill, we are booked on Saturdays and Sundays pretty much until mid-September.
What color toes do you end up with when you let your 4-year-old pick out the color?
Blue with sparkles.
That was after I ruled out the florescent pink.
Lesley got us front and center for Blue Man Group. The poncho section.
It was fun!
Drumming on pipes, unblinking, big, expressive eyes and paint flying everywhere.
Banana smoosh in my hair.
Woke up this morning, groggy, and thought it was Monday. Argh! Camp starts today! John is late for work. What am I doing today, what's going on? Need coffee! Blah! Blah! Blah! (insert freaking out hands by sides of head here.)
Then I realize that it's Sunday.
Aaaaaahhhhh. Breathe in. Breathe out.
Nice.
My back is sunburned and red like a lobster.
Mama at 7:20 a.m.: C'mon, Squeeolio, Mommy needs coffee.
Julia: And I need chocolate milk.
TJ swam for the first time over the weekend.
He was wearing a life jacket but he definitely knew what to do - he kicked and moved his arms in the right way.
Just a little more confidence and he's going to be a fish.
Growing up. Sniffle sniffle.
UPDATE: the next evening, TJ swam all by himself in the pool at the gym! It was such an amazing experience, like watching the kids take their first steps all over again!
Yay for TJ!!!
I have never let TJ see fireworks or go to an Airshow, because I know he hates loud noises, so why even mess with it.
He's almost 5 now so I figure it's ok now. Alas, can't find any fireworks, or firecracks as he calls them, that work with our location and our schedule.
Luckily, we are staying at the Camp for 4th of July weekend and the neighbors of the Camp have some. They are shooting them off over the pond. We wake up TJ to go outside and all of us are watching them through the tree and TJ is pretty psyched about that.
I realize that the kayak is still out and suggest that they go out for a nighttime float. They do and have a much better view of the firecracks.
TJ tells John "This is my first time seeing them! I have never seen them before." I would say from a kayak in the middle of a pond with your dad is a pretty cool way to see your first fireworks.
Doctors and carpentry and a job interview have led to conjunctivitis (pink eye) for both Julia and I, an almost completely new bathroom at the condo, and maybe a full time job.
Driving tonight was an adventure. A giant hawk flew into my windshield. Hard. Smashed the entire windshield. Pulled over at McDonalds to look at it and lost my fruit smoothie somehow, immediately after buying it.
TJ was a crabbo on the right. I now understand how things (toys, etc.) end up on the side of the road. Frustrated parents throw them out of their window after their stubborn 4-year-old throws it at them as they are driving. Not like I would do anything like that...
Oh. And Julia threw up.
Julia somehow launched herself from the crib today.
Not quite sure what she did but I heard a boom. When I walked in, she hightailed it out of the room.
So apparently she's not hurt.
Playing Santa with the kids. Yes I know it's summer. I do what they want.
TJ tells me: You have to be Santa, the alarm clock and the Mommy.