...That's not great.

Mother's Day by the numbers.

Hours I slept in after the kids got up: 2.

Cards I received from RD and the kids: 2.

Eggs, toast, and waffles I was delivered in bed: 2, 1, and 1.

Eggs, toast, and waffles delivered to me, but consumed by Sis: 1, 0.5, and 0.5.

Mimosas consumed by 11:00 am: 3 (I would not recommend).

Hours spent with mimosa "spillage" on my white t-shirt: 4 (I am SUPER classy).

Hours spent on my new MacBook while lounging in bed: an embarrassingly large amount.

Calls I made to my mom: 1.

Years I have been a mother: 5 (amazing!).

Bubbles.

This weekend gave me hope for many summer weekends filled with f. Friday evening I finally finished painting the kitchen. I had just one more wall to complete, and it had been mocking me for MONTHS. Saturday was a bit rainy, and in the morning the kids rain errands with RD and Bubba figured out how to play games on Sesame Street. A mellow day, but we got out in the evening to attend a fun birthday party that just plain wiped the kids out. Which is always a good thing.

Then Sunday brought sun; glorious SUN. The kids and I had a lazy morning, while RD worked on a list of mosquito tasks: siliconing all the door hinges, adding molding underneath the door to the garage, putting out the deck furniture, getting the oil changed and more.

We went out to the deck to play with the bubbles the kids received from the previous evening's birthday party.

   

They love to blow bubbles. And, frankly, I can't blame them.

   

I would love to have Sissy's hair; because come on. RD's genes are good for at least one thing: curly hair.

Completing my kitchen painting process energized me to get some additional spring cleaning done. I moved and cleaned under and the sides of both the stove and the refrigerator (PS. NASTY). I hung a bulletin board in the kitchen. I wiped down the kitchen cabinets. I packed up and stored my winter sweaters. I folded and put away three loads of laundry.

And then I weeded the front yard.

The bubbles were more fun.

Easter Round-up.

How was your Easter? Our was great, although I am still recovering from eating the better parts of two separate Monkey Bread creations.  I've been so good on my "non-diet" diet that I honestly think all that sugar was a nasty shock to my system. Let's just say the gastric impacts were less than pleasant, for sure. We attended a brunch on Saturday with a bunch of friends and kiddos, and the kids were able to get outside and do a good ole, old fashioned egg hunt.

No such luck on Sunday, where were were greeted on our drive to visit Grandpa and Grandma with rain, rain, and more rain. The egg hunt at church had to be moved inside, which as fun as it sounds, is limited by the fact that there are only so many places to hide eggs in the nave; above the pew or below the pew. 

We got back to my parents house to settle the kids with lunch and then naps.  The first part (lunch) went well, the second park (nap) did not. Bubba will be five in a few months and could go a day without a nap (although, he still naps everyday, you would not be a mess if he missed one), so it's always hard to get him to sleep when not at home.  Sissy would. just. not. go. to. sleep.  We can't do what we do at home: which is unscrew the light bulbs and close the door. At Grandpa and Grandma's she's in a walk-in closet (with a sink) on a mattress.  Not ideal.  It took us an hour and a half to get her to sleep.  By that time, Bubba was awake.  The Easter Bunny was supposed to visit during nap, so when Sissy finally got up (rather, we woke her up), I had to keep the kids in the master bedroom while RD hid the eggs.  You can see how happy they were with their loot. 

I'll take a heart attack for $1,000, please.

Last Sunday, RD's sister was able to spend the morning with us.  She lives in Oregon, but was in town for a personal event.  She takes her self-proclaimed role of "favorite aunt" very seriously, and the kids are always happy to see her.  Since I went out with some girlfriends the night before and was out pretty late (don't forget to ask me to tell you that story); RD planned to take her and the kids to the beach for the morning.  While still pretty cool around these parts, we had a lovely, sunny weekend and he wanted to take full advantage of it. 

I woke up around 10 am and called to check in with them.  We thought that she'd be staying for dinner, but it turns out she planned on leaving at noon.

I took a shower to wipe the FILTH off (but, can you really wash of drunk?), ate some breakfast, did some dishes, and then settled down with Newsweek on the couch around noon to wait for them to return.  RD is notoriously bad with time, so when he mentions a time, it's more of a suggestion.  But with his sister along, I thought for sure they'd be pulling up at high noon.

Well, noon turns to 10 after, then 12:20, then 12:35.  At 12:40 pm the phone rings.  "It's them!" I thought.  I jump up from the couch to get the phone in the kitchen.  The caller ID says, "Children's Hospital Seattle".

That's not great.

My heart pretty much leapt into my throat with the following thoughts bursting through my head, all in 2.36 seconds:

What happened?

Who's hurt?
Where's RD?
HOLY CRAP!!!!!
Who can drive me to the hospital?

I actually answered the phone, "WHAT HAPPENED!?!?!??!?!??" 

"Hello,"the monotone voice on the phone said, "I wanted to first say that this is not an emergency.  I am calling from the Children's Hospital Foundation...blah, blah, BLAH."  I pretty much tuned out after that.

What their caller ID should have said: "NOT AN EMERGENCY - Children's Hospital".

I still ended up donating $100 to their fund raising champaign.  That must be part of their plan - distract us with the possibility of our children needing their services and then we'll agree to anything.

To note: Children's Hospital Seattle is really actually quite fantastic based on the experiences we have had.  These have included a few emergency room trips for croup (most times in and our in under two hours) and a series of tests when Sissy was diagnosed with a heart murmur at 9 months old.  All the testing when so smoothly because everything there is sized for children and the nurses, technicians and doctors are skilled at working with kids.  For example, the EKG technician blew bubbles during the test which helped Sis forget she had about 20 things taped on her body.  While she does have a murmur, it's an innocent murmur, which means there are really no health issues (Sissy just has a little tendon flap in one of the chambers that causes a strange heartbeat).   RD has a heart murmur called a mitral valve prolapse, and, while he doesn't really have any issues related to this so far; he always takes antibiotics before seeing the dentist.   Oh, and he's been told he may need a valve replacement around 50 (which is no longer that far away!).

Overheard on the couch.

My daughter is a thumb sucker. There, I said it. We're not really bothered by it, and neither is our dentist or pediatrician. In fact, I think it's kind of sweet, even though I notice the thumb sucker overbite in her smile. What interests me the most is that while she was a fussy nurser, she started the thumb sucking at nine months. Even though we know (based on the two separate researchers) that most kids (between 91-95%) stop thumb sucking on their own by the time they are 5 years old, with her third birthday approaching, we've started to talk about thumb sucking habit with Sissy. You know, try to have a reasonable and logical conversation with a two and a half year old. Because that ALWAYS works.

Me: Sissy, why do you suck your thumb? Sissy: Cause I HAVE to. Me: But why? Sissy: CAUSE I HAVE TO (loosely translates to "why are you bothering me you crazy women?"). Me: Can you suck the other thumb? (She is a passionate left-handed thumb sucker.) She tries it for a few seconds; then switches back. Me: Do you think you could stop sucking your thumb. Sissy: Nooooooooo, I don't wanna. Me: But why do you do it? Sissy: Because I like it and it feels good. It's like talking to a twenty-four year old man.

      

Baby Loves Disco; but Mama hates it.

On our last day of the "week without Daddy" we ventured to downtown Seattle with friends to check out Baby Loves Disco - Seattle.  In theory, there was potentially alot to love: a cool venue, lots of play toys, great DJ mixing dance songs, kid-friendly food and drink, and swag.  Unfortunately, it was everything I hate: a wait to get in, helicopter parents, crowds, disappearing children, and a line at the ladies room.

Even though we had purchased tickets before hand and they were to be waiting at "will-call"; we waited 20 minutes in line to get in.  Apparently, "will-call" loosely translates to "wait in the rain with two kids on a busy street in Pioneer Square while a women with a clip board checks names off the list".  However, people who didn't have tickets could head on in and purchase them inside.  This makes no sense to me.  On the positive side, they had a good way to dealing with the kids safety - each child got a one time use Tyvex bracelet to wear and their parent would get the corresponding ticket - so no one could leave with a child that wasn't theirs.  Once we were safe, we headed down a STEEP set of stairs (remember, these events are held in dance clubs) into the venue.  They had a few activities in the foyer (like coloring, etc.), a "chill" room, a dance area and a snacking area.  The music was loud, but fun.  The kids loved it - there was shakers for them to use, bubbles, a disco ball and lighting effects. 

       

My main challenge was in keeping an eye on my kids (and the kids I was with).  Instead of allowing the kids to dance in the middle of the floor, with the parents along the edges, the dance floor was a mix of tall (adults) and short (kids) that made it IMPOSSIBLE to keep track of the little ones.  And they actually weren't moving around very much.  Now, I understand that with younger (24 months and below) kiddos, you would want to be right next to them, so there should have been designated areas.  I "lost" view of one of the kids probably a handful of times and had to go searching for them.  Not fun.

Now, I'm not one to bad mouth without my share of some solutions to make it a better event.  There should be a better system of getting people inside.  Waiting, with kids in tow, should be avoided at all costs.  There seemed to be little or no staff presence inside - it would have been great if there was someone to "lead" the fun.  Another good idea would be to have a fenced in area to dance in, with one exit and entrance, so the older kids could get their dance on inside, while parents could dance outside while keeping an eye on them. 

Honestly, I'm not sure we will be back.  At least we can say we've been AND it killed the final four hours before RD's return.  So, it had that going for it, which is nice.

Co-sleeping: A love story.

Bubba usually comes into my bedroom sometime after midnight.  He will only emerge from his room after we've gone to bed for the night and the hall light is off (that's his cue that the coast is clear).  Most nights I don't even know that he's crawled into bed with me, I just know that I've been awoken by a bad-breathed toddler in the morning asking, "Is it wake-up time?"  By this time, the two of us occupy approximately 1/8 of the king bed.

++++++++++++++++++

I have never been a great sleeper.  Combine anxiety plus light sleeper; and you get a bunch of crap.  That's one of the main reasons why, when my son was born, we choose not to co-sleep.  I couldn't even sleep with RD in the bed (PS. that's a whole other post!), let alone a baby!  (I have since learned, however, that we did "co-sleep" for awhile.  We did not "bed-share", but he was in a bassinet next to me in bed for the first month or so.)  Bubba moved seamlessly into his crib, with alot of help from Dr. Karp's swaddling and swooshing noises.  God bless the five S's.

All that being said, I am a big supporter of so-sleeping.  I think the recent backlash against co-sleeping is another example of allowing our ethnocentric American ideals get the best of us.  I'm not a scientist or a doctor, so I invite you to go read more about mother/baby sleep research and information at Dr. James McKenna's site.  He is a doctor (anthropologist) who studies mother-baby sleep patterns - and provides great information on safe co-sleeping.  And co-sleeping doesn't necessarily mean sleeping in the same bed as mom, rather sleeping in close proximity, whether that be a bassinet or having the crib be in mom's bedroom.  Dr. McKenna explains all this much better than I ever could, so I encourage you to go and read for yourself.   

When my daughter was born, I had gotten better with my ability to fall and stay asleep.  We followed the same system as we did with my son, and she transitioned into her crib at about a month.  I, however, would bring her into my bed with me to nurse and sleep in the wee hours of the morning.  I felt confident in my ability to safely sleep with her; that I was able to relax and we both would get more rest.

I think since I was such a crappy sleeper, I was anal about providing the kids with a good sleep environment:  firm mattress, with no blankets or pillows; black out shades on the windows; a nightly routine; and, of course, their "sound machines" that make their wind noise.  Both kids developed good sleeping habits, and by 5 months they were sleeping from 7pm-7am with nary a peep.

All the baby books encourage you to provide a consistent sleep environment, but what no one tells you, however, is that the same kids that sleep great at home (due to the routine) have a BITCH of a time sleeping anywhere else.  Whenever we traveled, we needed to take the sound machines, the blackout fabric and on and on.  Also, since they weren't used to falling asleep with anyone else in the room, they would have trouble sharing a room with each other (or with us!) in hotels or at friend's houses.  Much to the annoyance of my family, we always needed multiple places to stick my kids (and RD) when we would travel. 

Which leads me to the summer of 2006 and a trip with my whole family to central Oregon.  Every summer we take a week vacation to somewhere warm and enjoy the family time with my siblings and their families.  We couldn't monopolize as many rooms as we usually require, so I decided to have Bubba and I share a queen bed.  Since it was a new place and a new experience for him, I would lay with him until he feel asleep.  A few days into our week, I started napping with him.  Lovely!  I had never really been able to nap before (not even in college), so this was a treat for me. 

We returned home and everyone returned to their corner (er, I mean, bed).  Except Bubba started coming into bed with me at night.  At first it was 3 out of 7 nights, and it slowly increased to every night.  And, then I started taking naps with him on the weekends.  How can I say no to, "Mommy, can I sleep wif you?"  You can't.  RD and I thought he would phase out of it at some point, but it hasn't happened yet.

And you know what?  I like it.  Neither of my kids are snugglers and it allows me to enjoy his babyhood just a bit longer.  He also usually sleeps later in the morning, which is a plus for everyone.   As long as I am able to sleep, too, I'm happy with the situation.  We've even had Sissy join us on a few occasions, and we all still wake up on that same 1/8 strip of the bed.

++++++++++++++++++

Now that I have taken my resolution of better sleep habits for myself, I am less reliant on my weekend naps with Bubba.  A few weeks ago, out of the corner of my eye, I watched as he fought sleep.  His eyes, with his eyelashes that go on forever, would go something like this:

Blink, blink, open.  Blink, blink, blink, close, open.  He watches the ceiling and fights it off as long as he can.  Blink, blink, close.  Sleep.

It takes me back to the time when he was little baby, and I would nurse him to oblivion, swaddle him tight, then sit down with him in the rocking chair and lay him across the Boppy and lock eyes with him as he fought off sleep.  It was the same process: blink, blink, open.  Blink, blink, blink, close, open.

Blink, blink, close.  Sleep.

I guess I'll revel in his childhood as long as I can.  Because one day, he'll decide to sleep in his own bed all night.  Until then, he's welcome in mine.

My baby girl has all growed up.

Sissy spent her first night in a big-girl bed last night.

We've been talking about it FOREVER.  Bubba moved out of the crib and into a bed shortly before her turned two to make way for Sissy.  To prepare, we moved the bed in early, picked out bedding together, talked about it endlessly, etc.  He made a seamless transition.

Even though she's been climbing out of her crib for about nine months, we've been dragging our feet making the move to a bed.  Do you know how much twin beds cost?  Geesh.  Our daycare provider sold us a cute bed frame from Ikea and we purchased a waterproof mattress cover and sheets, but actually getting the mattress was endlessly delayed. 

On Sunday, I went out to a mattress chain looking for some good deals on mis-matched sets and year end models - my plan was to get a mattress and box-spring for about $200.  However, as soon as I saw what the $99/each piece models look and felt like I raised my limit (it was like prison issue mattresses).  They had a clearance model (regularly $200/each piece) on sale and I took it - $260 total, including tax.

I sent RD to pick it up last night (did you know that a twin mattress and box-springs will fit in the back of an X-terra?  well, you do now) and they didn't have the model the said they did, so they gave us an upgrade.  He basically came home with a $650 mattress set for $260.  Score!

I told him that perhaps I should be the one sleeping on it.  I was only half joking.

Since we can't have any milestone without documenting it with my Nikon - here's Bubba and Sissy in her new bed.  I still have to sew her some sort of bed skirt or box-spring cover.  We're also planning to move the bed to another wall in her room once we've removed the dresser we're using as a changing table.  I have to paint a smaller dresser this weekend to replace it.

The both insisted that they take a picture on Bubba's "old" bed, too.  He instructed her to put her hand "behind his neck."

Then, it was silly pose time.

And, a bit to my surprise, she went to sleep last night with nary a peep (usually she protests a bit) and did not fall out of bed.  Bye-bye babyhood.

Of pinkeye and ear infections.

We should have expected something was about it happen. 

Bubba shot out of the bed sometime in the middle of the night Wednesday at our hotel.  He wasn't making any sense and I couldn't get him calmed down.  I rushed him into the bathroom (to avoid waking Sissy); and there, finally, I was able to rouse him out of his half-awake shrieking and get him calmed down.  Back to bed we went. 

Thanksgiving Day he awake with red eyes and gunk (parents, you know of what I speak).  Yummy.  His right ear hurt, too.  It's not a huge surprise, since he's had 1,208 ear infections in his four and a half short years of life.  The problem with my kids (especially before they could talk) was they had no real symptoms of ear infections; no fever, no night waking, no pulling on ears.  At least now he can tell us what is wrong.

Today, we visited the doctor and because of some mix-up (mostly with my doctor's office!), we had to go to Bartell's not once, not twice, but THREE times to get his medications.  And none of those visits were to drop off the prescription. 

The only silver lining is that the Bartell's is right next to a Starbucks, so I had an excuse to get two lattes today.  Score one for me.

Overheard in our basement yesterday.

Bubba: Wow, Mama, your tummy is big.

Me: Really?

Bubba: Are we going to have another baby?

Me: (pause) Ah, no.

RD:  (laughter)

Nice.