On To Christmas

First of all, can we get a BIG round of applause for sporadic blog posting? Without it, the internet would be full of senseless ramblings like mine (instead of just half-full).

*clap*... *clap*...

Anyway... in case you're wondering, not much has changed around here. I'm still trying to get better at housework, and still failing miserably. There have been minor improvements, but things ain't gonna git real good until we get a dishwasher. And a maid.

One month til Christmas! We put the tree up last night; just the tree, of course, so we could see how Hurricane Ike reacted to it. Last Christmas he was 10 months old and he easily breached my carefully erected defenses; this year I'm saying "to hell with defenses!" So far, so good. Ike didn't notice the tree for several minutes this morning (possibly because he was up before sunrise), and all he's done to it since then is drive toy cars on it and chase the cat under it. Next step: lights!

I shouldn't be surprised. We went to the "festival of trees" here in town last weekend and Ike actually behaved very well- especially foror a notorious rascal, demolition expert and general rabble-rouser drpooed without warning into a sea of artificial trees, bright lights and shiny ornaments. He gently poked at a few ornaments, ran off to visit his favourite tree several times, and only pulled one little green ball off of one tree. Good, right? Yeah, I'm still sticking with plastic ornaments at home this year.

Simon's Playschool class (20 4-year olds meeting two mornings a week) performed during the "musical entertainment" on Sunday afternoon. I don't know about the "musical" part, but they were definitely entertaining! They sang (hollered) Jingle Bells, Up on the Housetop and We Wish You a Merry Christmas; Simon kenw a few of the words and just danced along to the rest, looking like he was desperate for a potty break. It was great.

I guess this officially kicks off the Christmas season. Good luck, folks!

What is with these CHILDREN?!

(Further evidence that I don't watch my children every moment of every day)

Sleep Deprivation Experiment: Day 1,346

Maybe it only seems like it's been that long since I had a full night's sleep. There must have been a few nights somewhere in between Simon learning to sleep through the night (usually) and me having another adorable parasite inside me messing up my sleep, but I don't remember them. It certainly feels like it's been too many years since I really felt well-rested... actually, I don't remember what that feels like. Is it good? Someone remind me, please!

Ike is now 1 year, 2 months and 12 days old, and I still can't fill in that annoying little space in his baby book that says, "I first slept through the night on ___________". Every parenting book I've read clearly states that a normal, healthy baby has no physical need to be up two or three (or hey, even one!) times a night for bottle or boobage, but here we are. I've tried going in and rocking him without feeding him- it just pisses him off, and buying new jammies after he's hulked himself right out of them was just getting too expensive. I've tried letting him cry; the problem is that he doesn't stop and go back to sleep like he's supposed to- not within the time I'm willing to let him cry, anyway. Also, here's always the problem of his crying waking his big brother up, too- and he's not a great sleeper himself. Between the two restless wonders over there, there have been recent nights when I was up 5 times between 10 (when Simon finally quits playing in his room and goes to sleep) and 6:15 a.m. (when Ike wakes up).

I'm convinced that the boys are actually secret agents of some evil researcher doing unethical feildwork in the field of sleep-deprivation.

So where does this leave us in the morning? On a fast train to Crankyland, that's where it leaves us. I don't want to get out of bed- in fact, I have trouble even waking up a lot of mornings, never mind rolling over until I land on the floor. Ike generally wakes up in a good mood, but then, he's probably been asleep for at least 11 hours- and he'll be having a nap soon. Simon will be up by then, though, a three-year old running on 9 hours' sleep who almost never naps anymore, ready to whine the morning away:

"Mommeeeee! I need appa-JOOOOS!"

"My Ta! Mommy, get me my Ta! ... Noooo, you get it! I'm too tiiiired!"

"I want Smannies for breffast!" (Smarties-and no, he didn't get them)

Case in point: at this moment, Simon is sitting on the couch. His juice is on the table, exactly 2 steps away from him. He wants me to get his juice for him, because "I can't weeeeech it! I can't get it- you getit, I'm so tired*!" I don't think so.

And me? I'm more than a little cranky, too. I have very little patience for whining any time, but even less when I haven't had more than 2 hours' uninterrupted sleep in a week.

But enough of my bitching. I have to go make some waffles for this kid before his head explodes.



*And no, I have no idea where he heard the phrase "I'm so tired"- certainly not from me... *ahem*

Poop Patrol (Waaay TMI, especially during lunch)

Simon has decided on a career and we couldn't be prouder of our little man. He's showing some promise, and has great enthusiasm for his position as Poop Inspector.

It's a surprising career choice for him- Simon still isn't showing much interest in using the potty, except for when he remembers that he gets stickers and can earn presents from his efforts. Then he hops up on the toilet, grunts, strains and farts for a few minutes, saying "Go poo potty... get car! Go poo potty... get... CAR!" Then he gives up.

Poop in DIAPERS, though- now THAT interests him. He spends a few minutes in denial each time he goes ("Simon, did you poop?" "Noooooo!"), but once he's moved on to the acceptance stage of diaper changing, he's quite interested in the process. "I make-a da Big Poopie!" he announces proudly. "I see da Big Poopie?"

And so he sees da Big Poopie. If it's not too messy, he helps flush da Big Poopie down da big toilet, and says, "bye-bye, Big Poopie!" I WILL draw the line the day he asks to "touch-a da big poopie," though.

And it's not just his own Big Poopies that are in need of inspection. No, sir! Every time Ike gts his butt changed, Simon asks, "Ike make a Big Poopie?" If the answer is no, he goes back to whatever he was doing. If yes, he scurries over and hunkers down, waiting to see what wonders await within his brother's diaper. Comments follow: "Ooooh, it's YEWWOW!" or, "Oh, Ike, dat's a big MESSY poop!" or (slightly alarmed) "What's DAT?!"*

After sufficient inspection has occurred (and a quick glance IS NOT ENOUGH), Simon nods and goes back to his irregularly scheduled programming.

It's a tough job, and the pay sucks, but Simon seems to feel that someone's gotta do it, and if he's the only one willing to take an interest in da Big Poopies, so be it. He's a godsend, that one.



*"Dat" was chunks of carrot from the previous day's soup. Why do I bother?

Zee camera, she eeez not workeeng. NOOOO!

To be fair, I guess this camera doesn't owe us much- it was a hand-me-down from a friend that we got after our first digital camera broke. I'm not hard on my cameras, I swear! The first one just stopped flashing (and then stopped everything else), and this one... well, I have no idea what's going on, but it's not happy, I can tell you that.

And when did I discover this? After Simon convinced me to put his old Superman Halloween costume on Ike. It looked ADORABLE- even more so after Simon put his Superman pajamas on. My little Supermen! My SuperBabies! And Simon wasn't even smacking Ike.

Oops- that last sentence jinxed everything. Simon just started screaming at Ike after a good 10 minutes of playing peacefully in the same room. I guess I should go...

The Rules of "Mine"

PUBLIC NOTICE

All residents of and visitors to this residence (henceforth referred to as "the house") are encouraged to read the following and to retain this sheet for future reference. In the event that a resident of the house is too young to read, he will be yelled and/or screamed at without restraint or mercy until the Rules of Mine are understood and obeyed.


Simon wishes to make known to all (and especially Ike) the following information about various items contained in the house:

1. a) The living room couch, should Simon be occupying any place on or around it, belongs to him. Any attempt to approach, look at, or touch said couch will result in ear-piercing shrieks of "NOOOO, IKE! IS SIMON'S COOOOUUUUCH!"

b) While Simon is in possession of Simon's Couch, Ike shall not approach or touch the associated coffee table. Such attempts or actions are punishable by screams of "NOOOO, IKE! DON'T TOUCH SIMON'S TAAAAABLE!"



2. The house rules state that any toys kept in the living room are for sharing. Simon hereby reserves the right to override this rule at any time, but especially when he is tired and/or cranky. Notice shall be given in shriek form: "NOOOOOO, IKE! DAT'S SIMON'S TOOOOOY!"


3. a) In the event that the television is on, Simon assumes full control ("Mine-ness") of all audio and/or visual output. Should Simon be in a bad mood, Ike will be notified immediately. "IIIIIKE! NO, IKE! NO WATCHIN' SIMON'S MOOOOOVIEEEEE!"

b) No attempts shall be made by anyone to sing or dance along with any movie or television program. Doing so will result in dirty looks and/or requests such as "No, Mommy! No dancin', Mommy!" or, "IKE! You no dance! It's SIMON'S movie!"


4. In the event that Simon decides to share his stuff, the recipient of such offer is required to accept this offer. Should the recipient is not interested in the particular toy or object being offered, Simon shall continue to press it into the recipient's hands or, if that fails, shall whack him on the head with it.


5. Simon will acknowledge the fact that other people own things- for example, "Dat's Ike's tiger!" Please note that such statements do not imply in any way that Simon will not expect to have use or possession of such objects, should he see someone else playing with them.



These rules and guidelines are subject to change at any time and without notice. Adults are encouraged to help Ike remember the Rules of Mine, as this should help avoid screaming, yelling, grabbing and/or pushing.

Thank you.

-Simon

Some Pics From Last Week... Fairly Random

Ike takes advantage of Simon's sleepiness and plays with Simon's 'Snicklefritz' while he's not looking.

One on the only two people in the world I don't resent for sleeping for a long time and/or peacefully.

I didn't get a cake on my birthday because we were out all day, so AJ bought me one 9 days later. Sweet!

Not actually sure how to caption this one, except to say that Gus is, in fact, a loser.

The happiest sandwich I've ever made by accident. Two shakes of the mustard bottle, one swirly squirt, look down, and oh! Look who's a happy, happy sammich! Not for long, I'm afraid...

My Shortest Post Ever

You wouldn't believe how much this looks like "Ike's dwink!" (bottle nipple) to some three-year olds- or how quickly their mommies can move to grab it before they try to use it as such:

WARNING: if you are a dude and/or squeamish and/or wary of TMI, maybe just move along without clicking...

http://www.divacup.com/

Need... More... Drugs...

Today was a bad day to be in my house. I tell you this so that even if you've had a bad day, you can say, "Well, at least I wasn't visiting THAT house today!" And then you can jump up, click your heels and whistle as you strut down the street.*

I'm not even sure where to begin... does 4:15 this morning when Simon was screeching and ended up on the couch count as last night or today? I'm guessing that an hour later, when Isaac woke up and wouldn't go back to sleep, even after a nice, warm bottle... that counts as today. In any case, we had an early start. I had the beginning of a headache lurking at the base of my skull, but only until something in my neck popped. After that, it was no longer the beginning of a headache, but a big, snarling, vicious migraine.

You know, one- and three-year olds are surprisingly indifferent toward other people's suffering, especially if it interferes with their little schedules. When Simon woke up (on the couch), he was crying. He spent the rest of the morning doing some more crying, some screeching at Ike, and some whining- just to keep things interesting. Every sound was like knives in my ears. A tired Simon is a cranky Simon, and Simon seems to be a firm believer that misery loves company. Ike just didn't understand why Mommy was sitting and/or lying around so much and not moving her head, and he couldn't figure out why she was mumbling about "caffeine IV" and "you people are killing me**" and other such nonsense.

I took the Advil liqui-gels, I drank the pot of tea (and consequently peed 5 times in an hour), I avoided moving when I could. I tried not to watch Simon eating bologna with ketchup, because that really made me want to barf. It wasn't a fun day for the kids- or for me.

AJ had been at work until 3 in the morning, so I couldn't wake him up to help me; in spite of what I said in my last post about how jealous I am of the fact that he's allowed to sleep for 8 hours at a time, I know he needs it. He got up at 1:20 this afternoon, and though the boys didn't settle down or get quieter, they were happier having their daddy around. In fact, Ike refused to have his nap and cried "Da! Da! Daaaa!" when I tried to put him in his crib. After he finally gave in and went to bed, and I left Simon and AJ watching home movies (not AJ's favourite activity) and went to have a nap. I jammed those blessed earplugs in my head, pulled up the covers, inhaled (my side of the bed smells like my sweet pea hand cream- so yummy) and passed out for an hour, until AJ had to get ready to go again.

I'm OK now. My head still hurts, but not as much as it did. I still have no energy, but I'll be able to do some quiet activities with Simon tonight, and I might even survive the Battle For Bedtime. It has taken me an embarrassingly long time to write this post because I keep forgetting words- words like "indifferent" and "crib"- but it's done. I suppose I should try to get some other things done, too, like the dishes, and maybe tidying up this mess that's been accumulating at my feet all day.

Bleeeeargh.

I'll do it tomorrow.

Simon, go to bed. Mommy loves you, but I need to sleep.



*Seriously, do it. And send video.

** The phrase Simon chose to pick up today was "Kill me!" As in, "Unnnngghhh, are you people trying to KILL ME?!"

Like Talking to a Wall (-E)

(Out for supper, waiting for AJ to cme back from the car with Simon's WALL-E toy)

Me: Simon, do you want chicken, spaghetti, or pizza?

Simon: WALL-E?

Me: Yes, Daddy's gone to get your WALL-E. Do you want to eat chicken with fries, or spaghetti?

Simon: I want WALL-E.

Me: I understand that, my love, but what to you want to EAT?

Simon: WALL-E?

Me: You want to eat WALL-E?

Simon: Pweeeeease!

Me: CHICKEN or SPAGHETTI?

Simon: I. Want. My. WALL-EEEEEE.

Me: I'm ordering you the chicken and fries.

Simon: WALL-E.



(20 minutes later, after the kids' food has been ordered and the conversation has moved on):

Simon: I have chinken? Chinken and fwies?

Me: Holy delayed reactions, Sime-man!

Queen For A Day

So... my birthday. It was great.

When I woke up on Monday morning, it was freezing cold and pouring rain- not great if you're planning on driving for an hour on bumpy, twisty-turny, up-and-down roads. I decided it would be OK if we just spent the day at home; AJ had Tuesday off, too, so shopping could wait.

Yes, my big birthday event was shopping. I had no idea what to ask for this year for my birthday. I don't want to get much in the way of clothing until I lose a few more pounds of this "baby weight" (ha, ha!), and everything else I really want is too expensive- digital SLR camera... sewing machine...good scanner/printer... laptop computer... yeah.

The weather cleared up by the time AJ was out of bed, and after everyone was dressed (in spite of Simon's protests), we headed out. Simon fell asleep in the car, but Ike stayed awake- and, amazingly, didn't cry. He also didn't poop that day- I guess that was my present from him. So thoughtful, my baby!

We stopped at Value Village for a few minutes so I could pick up a few more 45's- I'm doing greeting card-related things with them. Shhh- don't tell!

Then on to the mall. I love just hanging out with all of my boys. We looked through the book store... um... ok, that's really the only store we did much in. It's not a great mall. Still, AJ managed to bash his head on one of the rides he was helping Simon into (he's got a nice lump now!), and he and I had a very mature discussion about why the heck the hair salon is called "The Head Shoppe." I mean, really, people! "I just need to sweep these hair clippings into this dustpan, but while I'm down here..."

Michael's was the big shopping stop. I could spend thousands of dollars on art/craft supplies in there any day- but I managed not to. Still between what AJ and the boys bought for me and what I got with birthday money from AJ's parents, I did quite well- paper, large square hole-punch, a book of quotations, double-sided tape, a 12x12" storage box... good stuff. Now I just need to find the time to use it all!

We headed to East Side Mario's at 5:30, and it was a wee bit crowded. Actually, a lot crowded- enough so that they opened up a little room in the back to seat us and a party of about 12 people. And so we waited. And waited... and waited. 20 minutes later, a waitress came in- for the other table. AJ spoke to the manager. It seems there was a "mix up"- basically, they had forgotten about us. The boys were very tired and hungry at this point, but they behaved themselves so nicely- Simon played with his stuffed Wall-E he'd brought along, and Ike chewed on the table (and the highchair... and my hairbrush...).

We got an apology, and the manager/owner put the kids' order in right away so that they'd get their food quickly. Our waiter came in a few minutes later and took our order. The kids' meals came (chicken buddies!), and we waited... and waited... and waited...

We ate our salad and bread. We ate what the kids didn't want of their meals- excellent fries, by the way. And then, at last...

We waited some more.

The kids were done eating. The waiter came back and told us it would just be a few more minutes. We asked for the cheque and to get our meals to go. So we got the cheque. And we waited. Etc.

We had our coats on and were ready to go when our food finally came. In case you're wondering, we didn't have to pay- not even for the extra kids' meal they'd accidentally sent to our table while we were waiting. We still left a tip for the waiter, of course- he was a good guy, really nice, and it wasn't his fault they FORGOT ABOUT ME ON MY BIRTHDAY! I may need therapy.

Quick stop at Wal-Mart = new book for me to read (My Sister's Keeper, by Jodi Picault- I'm almost done already), face wipes, and perogies, and then we headed home. The long drive can be kind of nice when the kids are asleep- it's really the only time when AJ and I have nothing to do but talk.

I didn't do any housework on my birthday. It was great- until Tuesday morning. Ugh. Sometimes these things come back to bite me in the ass.

Thanks, all my boys, for a great birthday!

Happy New Year

Yesterday was my birthday. While many people choose to reflect on the past year at New Year's, I prefer to do so on my birthday. At New Year's there are too many people doing it, and the air gets all clouded up with people's Very Deep And Meaningful Thoughts. Suffocating, really.

And so I reflected a bit. Life was certainly different a year ago! We were living in a smallish basement apartment that was loud when people were upstairs and had a leaky ceiling in our closet, which led to mold problems. AJ was working at a job he hated, and was deep in the process of applying for something better- but it was a long road. Simon was almost 2 1/2, an adorable little man, but not talking too much (not in english, anyway- he was fluent in Simonese)- and Ike was 9 days old. I was still recovering from a c-section and trying not to worry about getting ready to move, which would be happening in just a few months. We had no money, but we had each other, we had good friends, and we were lucky enough to have my mom in helping out with Simon and Ike.

In the last year: We spent 6 months apart, with the little guys and me staying with my parents while AJ was away at training- the hardest 6 months of my life, but not nearly as hard as it was for AJ. Now that we're all back together, we're living in a different province, in a town that's new to all of us. AJ likes his job, and he's making better money. Until we get some debts paid off there's still not a lot of extra money, but that's getting better. We live in a house- an actual house, with no one living above or below us. Simon is talking a lot more and more clearly, and he says the sweetest things, and Ike is a sturdy little bulldozer of a 1-year old, always ready with a smile for his family (or random ladies he wants to flirt with).

And what about the coming year? I don't make resolutions, but I like to think about what I'd like to accomplish. I'd like to read more books this year. I'd like to spend more time doing activities with the boys, and I definitely want to get outside when the weather improves! I want to be healthier; I want to exercise more, eat less (but better), and get off the damned Effexor and get my other antidepressand dose down to at least a normal level. I'd like to sleep through the night, but that really depends on a certain outside influence (not mentioning any names... *ahem* ike)

Sounds ambitious, doesn't it? Little by little, though, one or two things at a time, I'll do the best I can, and it will be good enough. I'm done with perfectionsm

Oh, and my birthday, the day itself, was great. More on that later!

A Comb and a Brush, and a Brain Made of Mush

I was going to write something nice for you today, I really was. I even put some thought into it, if you can believe that. But you, my friend, are out of luck.

We had another one of those nights that leaves what's left of my brain in a puddle of mush, sloshing around in the lower half of my cranium; the top half, incedentally, is left empty, and the thoughts I manage to produce are getting distracted by the echo, so even they're not working for me. Echo! Echo! Echo!

So yeah, long night. Simon decided to stay up to keep me company until 10, because goodness knows I can't be left ALONE if AJ's at work. He finally went to bed (with his new friend "Blue," who was to be the topic of a far more coherent and entertaining post), I tidied up a bit, got changed, climbed into bed, and- "WAAAAAHHHHH!!!"

...and spent the next 30 minutes trying to get Ike back to sleep. No, not back to sleep- he was perfectly happy to sleep with his dear little noggin resting on my chest while I sat in the rocking chair. The problem was getting him to stay asleep when I had the audacity, the sheer nerve, to put him down. I even tried taking him to bed with me, forgetting that he's a BIG boy now, being one and all, and he's not into that anymore.

So then I rocked him again and cried because he's growing up, and we won't have these cuddly times forever, you know! I desperately tried to press that moment into my brain while simultaneously losing my mind from exhaustion. Perverse? Perhaps.

So then I put him down, he cried, I left, and he settled down at last. I closed my eyes, and AJ came home. I muttered several things at him, none of which I can remember now (and which almost certainly didn't make sense, anyway), and fell asleep. Some time later, just before AJ came to bed, Ike started crying again. He had a bottle, and we all went to sleep. Until Simon woke up screaming for the third night in a row. He went back to sleep on the couch, and I went back to bed. Again.

After that, it was smooooooth sailing- Ike was only up one more time before he woke up for the day at 5-something, bright and cheerful. "Hi, Mommy! I had a FAN-STINKING-TASTIC night! What's wrong? Why are you crying? Silly Mommy!"

So yeah, me and my brain of mush are just going to have to save that good post for another day. You know, whatever it was that I was thinking about. I can't remember.