Monday, August 29, 2011

Mama Wears Combat Boots

Mama Wears Combat Boots

The Mama Uniform

The Mom Uniform

Mama's Night Out

Mom's Night Out

Mama's Capri Uniform

Mom's Capri Uniform

Death to Naptime

I'm not sure what's happening in our house.

Sophie is 3 and a half. She has started to give up napping. I'm cool with this decision or "down wit it" as the younglings say. The only problem with her wanting to give up her afternoon nap is that by 5:00, demons start pouring out of her mouth and ears. Big purple demons with pitchforks, torches, butcher knives and clipboards asking if you have a minute for a small survey. They make her rampage through the house knocking down her brother and looking for small animals to stomp.

So I've started doing the Mom Thing of "You don't have to sleep. Just lay down and rest for a while." This isn't going over well, either. She takes this time to pin Pink Baby and Ernie to the wall by the crib rail and then strip her fitted sheet off the bed and wear it like a cape.

Next is my two year old, Gideon. The Boy still needs a nap and he will still take a nap.


First he has to do the I'm-Not-Tired dance for about 4 hours. Then he has to stare into space like a zombie for another 30 minutes. He has to refuse all food you give him and then try to eat the dried up macaroni that the vacuum missed on the floor under the ottoman. He has to stop playing with all 10 gazillion of his toys and only want your skillets and something from the recycling bin. Then he has to crawl all over you like you are Kilimanjaro. (YOU ARE THERE.) Once you get him into the bed, he has to take off the fitted sheet (what is with this?!) and try to crawl under his mattress.

Then he will finally pass out cold 20 minutes before you need to leave to go somewhere.

Milly takes about 3 naps a day. Well, according to the schedule, she takes 3 naps a day. In truth, she screams like she's being skinned alive until I feed her a bottle and then will army crawl over the entire living room looking for razor blades to swallow. She will slither up behind her brother and grab his ankle causing him to leap 40 feet into the air and clutch the ceiling fan. Then, when she is yawning, she gently lays down and everything is wonderful.

For about 40 minutes.

My mother has asked me before why I put my kids to bed at 7:00. ("It's so early!)

Mama's tired, yo.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

The Pros and Cons of a 6 Month Old

Pro: She only drinks formula. I never have to fret and decide about what she's going to eat or not eat.
Con: She spits up 19 gazillion times after each bottle. Almost always all over me. ON PURPOSE. (Seriously, she turns away from the burp cloth or rips off the bib and aims for my pants.)

Pro: She nurses to sleep delicately against me. There is nothing like a contented, sleeping baby cuddled on my chest.

Con: She only naps in 20 minute stretches and then acts like a cranky tiger after playing for another 20 minutes. Ferber himself would walk out saying "Dude, I have no idea."

Pro: She is my first child with hair! Beautiful, wonderful hair since birth!
Con: Cradle cap. Ew.

Pro: She makes funny faces.

Con: She's probably about to yack on the carpet. Seriously, this kid has no constitution.

Pro: She's my most contented and easy going baby. So far her sister has peed on her face and her brother has stepped on her face in shoes and she was fine minutes after each incident. Nothing really makes her mad.

Con: Except teeth. (Which you can barely see in the picture.) They are coming in one at a time and slower than molasses.

I think I'll keep her. And possibly buy stock in Resolve and Shout.

Monday, August 1, 2011


This morning I cheered on a three year old as she removed her gown and put on pants. I also explained how cream would make her red butt feel better so that she would allow me to put it on her because everything must be explained now.

Then I wrestled my very angry, very poopy 2 year old little boy until he was clean. He wanted to grab handfuls of poo to fling at me because I was stifling his creativity or something.

Lastly, after feeding my 6 month old daughter, she leaned back and sighed. Then she gave a tiny cough and explosively spit up all over me. And then leaned back and sighed again.

My life is magical.