How do I explain it?

I need help. Last night our sixth grade student came into our room at bedtime in tears.  "I hate America" was the shocking statement that was made.   We asked, why and what happened because not even an hour earlier this smart, goofy kid who takes tap dancing classes, loves volleyball and is on the honor roll at school was telling us silly jokes and practicing a moonwalk.   "I don't understand why we're scared at school, and that people hate me because I'm different."

After some digging it boiled down to just the two topics that are the most worrisome for us as parents in 2023.  Gun violence and an increasing amount of law makers across the country talking about the dangers of saying "gay", people in Drag, or books in schools that represent real life people. 

We can't do the easy and reassuring parent trick of saying "it will be ok, a shooting at your school will never happen to you" because we don't know that.  Gun violence has already touched our little family.  On a boring Saturday morning we stopped into a local mall to shop for spring clothes and there was an altercation that resulted in two people being shot.  The terror in not knowing what was happening and the need to get out of the area was awful.   We were separated and our third grader had to rely on strangers for comfort and help until we were reunited.  

It simply isn't believable to tell kids that there is no risk in going to school.  The drills they do for lockdown are more likely to be put into action than the earthquake drills we did, and the atomic bomb drills our parents did.   American kids live with a real worry that it will be their school next.

Ok, so training and preparation.  That "solves" the gun issue, but what about the other thing?  How do we explain that legislators are railing on about drag queens because it's an easy thing to vilify?   How do we explain that just because they don't feel comfortable being called a girl that they are talked about by adults in power as deviant, or suggest that they were groomed.   It feels like they are suggesting that if it hadn't been for external factors, that my kid would be 'normal.'  Oh my, was it the true story about two male penguins at the zoo who hatched an adopted egg?  It can't be, our doctor, the therapist we hired after the shooting, and even the clergy at our church have said our family as healthy, loving and frankly ordinary.   

So, I am asking for help.  How do we explain inaction on limiting access to guns that are so powerful that parents have to use DNA to identify their child, but at the same time that these same legislators will limit the use of pronouns because pronouns are are harmful?  How do we explain that the rights of American's to have guns is more important than the right for children to survive the day of school?   How do we explain that even though we have freedom of religion in America that those who believe in the Bible use it to make laws, based on their interpretation.  How do we explain that we as parents would do anything to keep them safe, but we can't stop bullets and we can't stop useless and hurtful laws.

This kid is smart and sees through the irony of inaction on something that will literally kill them and action on stuff like words that don't matter.   

How are we as parents supposed to explain it?   

Our Corona Virus Experience

Having successfully navigated the pandemic without contracting the Corona virus for over two years we may have given thoughts to being the rare exception and possibly even carriers of an antibody that when discovered could be harvested and save mankind. 

Key words:  may, possibly, could

We arrived home from our cruise at about 1am on Friday, May 6th.  Jason admitted as we drifted off to sleep that he wasn't feeling great and would take a covid test in the morning.  We agreed that we would all take a test.  

After a reasonable sleep, we woke up and tested.  He was positive and Lucy & I were negative.  

Jason made a video appointment with our doctor's office for later that morning and I made an extensive post vacation shopping list and masked up to gather provisions.   The thinking was that we would be stuck at home and maybe wouldn't have a lot of energy to make gourmet meals.  Oh, and of course vacation laundry.

He was given a prescription for an anti-viral cocktail and I was able to pick them up at the local RiteAid on my travels. The doctor suggested that he isolate from us and the fun game of masking in our own home began.   Paxlovid is a five-day regimen of 3 pills in the morning and 3 at night.  

With the groceries gathered (lots of extra great things for hydration, soups, ramen, a couple different pre-planned dinners) and about 8 loads of laundry I was DONE.  The time zone change was catching up with me and I was very tired.

So, off to bed with me.  Jason was in the basement for a night (or 4) in the guest room. First thing the next morning - a test.  That's my results up top.  You can see it's not a faint line, no squinting needed.  The day before 100% negative.   Lucy's test also had a positive result, but the line on that test was very light.  After two plus years of worst case scenario news stories, Lucy looked at me with genuine fear in her eyes and asked quietly, "am I going to die?"  Hugs were distributed, and I did my best to reassure her that the vaccine would help her from getting really sick and that we would all be ok.  

Our doctor's office is closed on Saturday, so I used the handy Doctor on-demand application that came with our insurance and had a quick chat with a medical person somewhere in the online world. I too was given the anti-viral prescription, but not Lucy.   This doctor also recommended that we three isolate from one another within the house.  So, we continued that path.

The energy I had Friday was gone. Saturday and Sunday I was one with the couch.  There were movies but mostly I was lightly napping all day, then pulling together a dinner type meal which we three ate away from each other.  Then, at bedtime - sleeping thru the night was not an issue.  

Symptoms included a terrible headache, low energy, some body aches and for a couple of days congestion (no cough, but we went thru multiple boxes of tissues.).  The Paxlovid had a terrible side effect of the worst taste in my mouth that I've ever experienced, and it went on for days.  Jason said it was like a moose set up camp and then died in his mouth.  We busted out the altoids. We knew it was the Paxlovid because Lucy had all the other symptoms but not the awful mouth. 

We did manage to come up with a pretty decent dinner for Mother's Day and we ate together that night.  Lucy managed to sneak home a 1000 piece puzzle from the cruise as a gift.   The following day was Monday, and both Jason and I worked a full day.  Thank goodness for online/remote work.  

Lucy was uninvited to attend school until Friday the 13th, but on Thursday evening when we took our 5 day follow up tests, Jason and I tested negative, but Lucy was still positive. That meant she was out of school for another five days.  She was not happy about the delayed return, especially since she was feeling just fine.

Mrs. W sent home worksheets and emailed us links to the lessons she was missing.   Yeah, so we managed to miss almost the entire school curriculum for sex ed.  But fun for Lucy we did those lessons together.  Anatomy, relationships, pregnancy, exploitation... all of it.  With charts, visuals, and worksheets.  It was fine, some of it was really awesome to walk thru at home - specifically the exploitation topic.  Since that happens to kids and it's almost never a stranger, we were able to explain that no matter what, her safety and happiness is more important than someone we know that is making her uncomfortable or hurting her. 

 There was a test today on the topics and I'll be interested to see how "we" did.   

11

 The kid turned 11 this week.  We celebrated by cooking the favorite meal: meatloaf, "Aunt Chelsey's broccoli", and bread.  I added salad and mashed potatoes because... it's a requirement.  After dinner we noshed on an awesome store bought cake which was too good.

Instead of a crazy expensive gift, we opted for a collection of smaller and more fun gifts.  Fun t-shirt, lap desk, money, things for our upcoming vacation.  

It was fun, but a lot of work for a work night.  The next day, there was an early doctor's appointment to check out pain in Lucy's back.  To be honest, the appointment seemed like a fool's errand but I was going with the flow because the complaints about back pain have been consistent. 

Well, the egg is on my face because this kid actually has an issue that is verifiable on x-rays.  It's a pretty common stress fracture in the lower vertebrae.   I'm not a doctor, but google says this type of 'defect' is pretty common in kids and will heal with rest.   This week Lucy is keeping a pain journal and next week we will consult with the pediatric sports medicine specialist to determine which, if any activities we have to cut out.

Then, to make the week even more hectic Lucy woke me at 1:45 Thursday morning to tell me about an ear ache.  This obviously isn't common in the early 11 year old age group, so I did the best I could in the middle of the night with a decongestant, motrin and a heating pad.  Needless to say we were zonked on Friday.  Before I got Lucy settled again, she said to me "sorry I startled you, I hope you didn't have flashbacks to world war 2."  I did a doubletake and said "I'm only 53, I wasn't in world war 2."  She said "well, you know what I mean."   SAVAGE.

In spite of my advanced age and hurt pride, I was able to find a doctor appointment for this morning, or thought I did.  The clinic was locked up tighter than Fort Knox.  A quick call to the hospital scheduling team resulted in our driving to Federal Way for the walk in clinic.  With the ear infection confirmed and drops on order at the Issaquah pharmacy we headed home.

At 2, three of Lucy's besties arrived for an extended party/play afternoon.  "Play dates" are not allowed anymore.  They have played a board game that involved throwing a pair of foam burritos at one another - but Jason ended that when they knocked over an antique liquor glassware set.  He didn't want to tell me what they hit (I was taking a break and working on our taxes. yuck) but when he did, I let him know that that set came from his family.  "Really? I've never seen it before."  So much for me keeping the family heirlooms alive for his side of the family.

After the burrito game was re-boxed, there was some painting of cute ceramic gnomes, pizza (of course) and now they are working on these strange candy kits.  It's like miniature gummies that come in the form of mystery powder that the kids mix with water and then mold into the shape of whatever strange thing the kid is emulating.    They are now trying to form "hamburgers" and "cheese" out of bizarre colored goo.  I'll try to get photos, but frankly that room scares me a little.

One of these angelic children has a laugh that sounds like a horse with the hiccups.  I popped around the corner to do a proof of life and then backed away slowly.   

Jason, who made was on dinner duty has moved to the safety of the basement, with a beer or two I think.   I am able to monitor the events from my office because they are not quiet kids - but the sound of their laughter is actually pretty great. 

So, it was a rough week, with some very high spots.  I think Lucy will like being 11.  But I hope the horse hiccup laugh doesn't catch on.  

No more toys for tots!

Scrooge might have been on to something.  Not the hardhearted lonely part of him, but the frugal, thrifty stingy side.  

My child is an 'only'.  She's a much loved, very sweet almost three year old who will not be having any siblings. She is the only grandchild on both sides of her family.  This kid is connected to six adults who think she's pretty amazing. At two and three, gifts for her are easy to come by and of course, always appreciated.

In addition to the influx of gifts at birthdays and the holidays random things are picked up from time to time.  Meet Edgar the 5 foot tall teddy bear that had to come home with us from Costco.  Lucy has a kitchen with a microwave, cook top, oven complete with a roasted chicken, all the fruits and vegetables one could think of cooking with, stir fry equipment, a wooden birthday cake and for Christmas she received a toaster, espresso maker and a percolating coffee pot.

Edgar N. Bear

The added kitchen gear was not her main Christmas present, for that she received a 4 foot by 6 foot barbie doll house with a toilet that flushes, a piano that plays, a working elevator and a swimming pool. 

She loves these toys and does in fact play with them.  She also sleeps with characters from Toy Story (Buzz, Woody, Jessie and Hopalong), Nemo and Mike Wyzouski from Monster's inc.  

Before Christmas we did a weeding of the baby toys to cull down the clutter and to eliminate the items she no longer plays with.  I'm of the opinion less is more, and yet as hard as I try it turns out that more is more.  

I worry that without moderation, Lucy will end up a spoiled brat who has little to no appreciation for all the wonderful things in her life.   We just finished Christmas and her birthday is coming right up - so there is a new round of gifts that are winging their way to our home.   Savvy Disney has rock bottom prices on the remaining characters from Monster's University and I don't know how we'll ever live without a Terry & Terri doll.

Terry & Terri Perry

I feel like the horrid mom when we (my beloved and I) discuss what to buy the kid and he's so very excited about all the deals and how much she loves these things when they first arrive.  Some things are popular and then get put in a corner for a long time.  The Boo doll from last Christmas didn't really find her groove in the play rotation until this fall.  Now, she's everywhere - or was until Woody and Buzz arrived on the scene.

Don't get me wrong, Woody and Buzz are helpful friends to have.  When Lucy is acting up, or not wanting to transition from one thing to another a quick talk with them clears things right up.  

"So boys, would you like to come up stairs and take a bath?"

"Yes ma'am, we'd be delighted!"

The next thing we know, Lucy is holding hands with Buzz and Woody and upstairs we go.  If only all the toys were that helpful.   It would be even better if the toys would spring to life and put themselves away à la Mary Poppins.  That lady had a gift. 

In every family, people take on certain roles.  Jason is the fun dad who manages to find all the wonderful toys that a girl could want.  I'm picturing that amazing moment when Shirley Temple awakes in the attic to discover that it has been magically adorned with Indian silks, warm clothes and bacon.   My role it seems, is more of the stingy Miss Minchen, whose sole desire it is to rob the child of all wealth and joy by keeping the tide of gifts to a reasonable flow.

For me, it is not about preventing Lucy from having a wonderful childhood and plenty of wonderful things - I mean come on, she's a great kid who deserves the best, but rather about moderation.  I fear the day that she counts the holiday gifts and is disappointed because last year she got more.

Someday, mark my words - if we're not careful this will be Lucy's Christmas haul:

Changes

In a fit of non-productivity, I reviewed the posts on the baby blog that I kept leading up to the arrival of our girl.  I wish there was a way to archive the blog to keep it offline - perhaps I shall call the folks at shutterfly and talk about the need for this service.

It's fun to go back and get into my own head during the exciting time of waiting for the reality of where we're at today.  I scan those pictures from the ultrasound and try to make the leap to the face of the little girl who begged me to stay in bed this morning and drink more pretend juice and eat more pretend beans (M&M's).

There was such a level of the unknown during that time.  Anticipation and longing to know if this kid would bring the joys of parenting that people talk about.  We knew there would be agony and frustration, but people imply that it's all worth it.  Turns out - our girl is willful and tests us a lot, but she is happy in our home and we are happy with her in it.

Then

Now

Things have changed a lot since those early days.  Lucy jokes around with us, sure it's little kid humor but it's great.  This morning she climbed on Jason's back and we "lost her".  We looked all over the bedroom, under the bed for her.  She giggled and laughed as we searched.  I hope I never for get the sound of her little voice "I'm here Mommy, I'm right here."  When we found her I gave her a big hug and told her that I had missed her.  She hugged back and said "me too."  Come on... how awesome is that?

Lucy has 'things' now.  She loves her bike and thanks to bike days at school is getting quite proficient.  We take the tricycle to the park and she zips around.  She accepts the helmet and is happy to wear it.     She is also starting to want money - change really.  She likes it and asks for it.  Today she unzipped my wallet and found all the coins.  I explained that they were mine and that if she wanted money we could work out some chores for her to do to earn her own money.  Cleaning her room and picking up her toys shouldn't be earning activities, but we'll come up with something.

We were in Long Beach last weekend and while it was far from sunny and warm we had a nice time.  We abandoned the port-a-crib and took a small cot for Lucy.  It started out as a major failure, but ended up working out marginally well.  Once we moved the cot into the big closet in the room we were in she had her own room and was able to shut out all distraction and fall asleep.  For naps it was a lot like locking her in a closet, but when she fell asleep it was on the cot.  Night time was a lot easier.

The biggest thing it did for us was to confirm that it was time to convert her crib to the toddler bed.  We did it the day we came home and we hope that by Saturday nap time that she'll be so use to it that she WILL nap in it.   So far, it's been three nights and there have been no incidents of falling out although last night she woke up around 12:45 and seemed lost in the bed.  I went in and laid her back down and she was fine.    She was super tired as it was the final night of swim lessons and we got home LATE.  This is not a kid who regularly goes to bed at 9pm...that extra hour matters.

The 'new' bed!

We're about to leave for vacation and while we're only going to visit the Denver grandparents there is a lot of prep work to do.  I have a business trip earlier in the week and when I get back we leave less than 12 hours later.  This weekend will be a mush of packing, and planning.

I'm looking forward to vacation (even though I'm not being a very good employee right this second.)  The bookclub ladies were kind of surprised when I said that the trip was going to be fun.  It's reasonable to think that a vacation to the in-laws is more of an obligation than a vacation, but as I've said before the in-laws are good people who are relaxing and enjoyable to be around.

Let's do all keep our fingers crossed that Miss Lucy naps while there.  She was a bad napper when we were there last Summer, but I think we'll be able to wear her out more this time.

Oh, and because this is MY blog I can proclaim for the world (5 readers) that my big girl told me this morning that she needed to pee, and actually did it on the potty!  It's the 3rd time and it's not a huge trend, but today was the first time she took off her diaper to do it.  The other times it occurred at bath time so she was diaper free.

For the vacation, instead of hauling a stroller and a port-a-crib we'll be bringing a bicycle helmet and a toddler potty insert.  See... life changes quickly.

Monster Shoes & a name change

I thought that the rate at which Lucy blew through clothes that first year was shocking but at the same time with each change of size 0-3 mos to 3-6 mos came with amazing developments in her personality.

The growth has seemed to calm down, we aren't completely changing wardrobes every three months, but her feet... oh man, I think her feet are growing at a stunning rate.  Maybe it isn't the case, but now shoes are setting us back about $35-$50 a pair.  This weekend we had her feet sized and ended up leaving the store with:

Dress Shoes - white sandals
Tennis Shoes - a girl must be able to run freely
Play Shoes for summer - ok, so maybe she doesn't 'need' keens but they were so great last summer because they work in the water, they work on rocky beaches, they also have toe coverage for the school playground that is covered in wood chips.

and, because we love options a pair of Red and Purple casual shoes.

Of course, her whole wardrobe is PINK and none of these shoes except for the fancy sandals really go all that well with a pink puffy girl, but she seems to prefer fun shoes.  In fact, we are all very sad to retire the Yo Gabba Gabba vans.  She growled at them every time she put them on.  "Monster Shoes"  - very cool.

  

I'm sure we'll end up buying more shoes before we hit the heat of summer, and I guess that is fine.

We had been going to the stride rite store for shoes, but Jason suggested we stop at Nordstrom and while I loved the idea I must complain that the options were so good that we probably purchased at least one pair of shoes that we didn't 'need'.  Stupid excellent service.

Lucy was great during our shopping adventure.  She was delighted to get a balloon and when we were finished we stopped at the cafe for a cookie.  She loved the idea of a cookie, but mostly sucked the green sugar off the top of her portion of the shamrock leaf.  Oh, and she drank 90% of my sparkling lemon aid.  "Screw that vanilla milk crap, mommy's juice is 10 hundred times better."  Thankfully she's mastered the straw and no backwash happens.  (backwash and snot bubbles gross me out. gag)

She was a bad napper this weekend, but slept well at night.  I'm thinking the three hour naps might be gone until the next growth spurt.  And there's the trade off, good sleep equates to big feet.

Oh, and here's a new development, she has been waking up really upset after these short naps.  She's in a tantrum like state for about 10 minutes when she wakes up.  I feel badly for her, because she's simply upset and there isn't much to do.  We cuddle, comfort and keep her safe, but she's wailing and producing tears.  Poor little bug.

Last bit of news.  She corrected me this weekend when I called her Lucy.  "No mama, Lucia!"   So, I told the day care today that they have to stop calling her Lucia and call her Lucy.  I love them a lot, but she is Lucy.  It would be so wrong for me to call a kid named Juan John unless asked to by the parents or little Juan himself.   At 2 - it's too early for Lucy to decide to change her name.  I'm the mommy and I say so!

We can afford pants, she just doesn't like them.

Why she won't wear pants at home is a mystery.  She's so busy you would think pants would be helpful.

We now have rules like "everyone wears pants to dinner". This is not a statement I thought I'd ever have to utter.  "Keep your pants on please."  That is something I think every wife says from time to time, but setting a rule about wearing pants at the table is not what I expected from parenting.

We use the super exciting Elmo underwear to keep her from stripping out of the diaper too.  I thought I would explain why there are underpants over a diaper.  Don't judge me...you try to manage an almost 2 year old.



And yes, she is calling herself "Lucia".  That's what the teachers and kids at daycare call her.  I don't really mind, because she knows how to say Lucy and she responds to Lucy.  I have made it clear that they can call her Lucia, but when writing her name it will be L-u-c-y.   Hopefully this is only a phase, but when I drop her off in the morning the other kids call out in excitement "Lucia is here! Lucia is here!"  I wonder if they are a bit envious that names like Lily, Connor, Zoe and Mason don't have Spanish equivalents.

Perspective

It has been a booger of a week.  Work has been very busy and the moments to do those little things that make working a home a treat have been few and far between.  I don't mean bubble baths either...on a normal day I can keep the laundry moving through it's cycles and get at least a load or two washed, dried and PUT AWAY - not this week.  Heck, this week I haven't been able to break to run downstairs for lunch until after 2.  Yesterday I ate a small bite at 2:30 and then surprise surprise had no interest in dinner.

It doesn't help that I'm coming off a nasty cold.  Last Wednesday when I was in Salt Lake City (for a day) I managed to get over to my niece who has a daughter who is 21 days younger than Lucy.  Wrap your brain around that.  He's 49, I'm 44, Erika is 20, and Lucy and Aisley are almost 2.  What was I thinking???    Anyway, she's a sweet kid and can say her colors, lots of words and the baby is pretty bright too.  (ooh... I'm bad!)  The baby had a minor fever while I was there but I wasn't too worried.  Fevers happen all the time, a slight ear infection, a new tooth anything sets those small people off.

The next day however, I got a text from my brother saying that Aisley had developed a bad cough and they took her to the doctor who swabbed her nose and diagnosed Flu A.  I had to look it up to see why it wasn't just 'the flu' and it turns out that it IS just 'the' flu but it closer in makeup to it's dangerous cousin the bird flu.  Regardless, FLU!?

By Friday afternoon I felt like I'd been hit by a truck and a call was made to our doctor.  There was a lengthy rundown of symptoms and I was told to go to bed, take some stuff, drink tea and ride it out.  We had a great weekend.  Thankfully, I'm the only one in my house that was affected although I do have a new found appreciation for the frustration Jason has been feeling over his lingering cough that has been affecting him since before Christmas.

While Lucy isn't sick, she has been a special joy to be around the last few days.  She came home from day care on Tuesday and whined and cried until bedtime.  I know there will be days when she is off her game too, but man oh man...that kid can yell and push my buttons.    Then yesterday, she took a 3 1/2 nap at school.  She came home happy and while there was a battle at dinner about why she can't put her feet on the table, she was a better kid to be around.

So, I'm tired not feeling back to my own self, Lucy is off, Jason has is own stuff going on and I want to whine about it.  I'm entitled right???  No. You. Are. Not.

My complaints are valid, but come on TP have some perspective - your buddy Jay is going though chemo while trying to spend as much time as possible with his 5 year old.  Your other friends are embarking on a scary medical journey of their own with their newborn son and a couple you've known for 15 years has decided to divorce.  It's time to do some counting of blessings Terri...

So, here we go, a small list of things I'm rather happy about:

• My family
• My home.
• My job, even when it makes me crazy.
• That there is world class chemo for a sick friend.
• That there are scary medical procedures for this beautiful boy.
• Toddlers who nap.
• Warm feet
• Cold Medicine
• friends who are in my life, and ones who aren't that I still love.
• good books
• tv shows that I can disappear into. 
• homemade dinner that tastes like I want it to taste.
• things that make you laugh.
• A warm shower.
• Waking up before Lucy does.
• Coffee in the morning
• a valentine's gift for my guy that is meaningful.
• Dinner with family who are also friends.
• Sugar cookies (that I'm going to bake during my lunch hour today.)

The Mommy Koolaid

Hi, my name is Terri and I'm a mommy-aholic.

I can no longer fool myself into thinking I'm a balanced person anymore.  I post stories to Facebook about my kid, I take pictures of Lego creations she has made with my husband and I even posted a picture of her on this blog in a diaper.  Sure it was an Instagram photo so it looked vintage, but still it was nothing more than a kid in a diaper and rain-boots standing by a Christmas tree.

I follow a blog called "STFU Parents"* and it is a place for all people to post online parent fouls.  Things like when someone posts a "Remembering D-Day, thanks for your service." on their Facebook page and some clueless mom adds her own comment like "Oh yes, it was a great day when Dylan was born."  Uh... D-Day - not about your kid!

Or, when someone posts that they are super tired because they have been working really hard, some mommy will add "Try doing that with four kids at home."  Hey lady, just because parenting can be an energy sucking vortex doesn't mean you have the market on all 'tired' or 'busy' situations.  

I find the site amusing and a bit of a touchstone.  I am relieved to see that I am not guilty of many of the parental offenses in the public social world  but I give myself licence to perpetrate all sorts of parental over-sharing in this forum. 

The diaper picture however made me stop and think about my attitude and judgement.  I am aware that a certain fog of brain damage occurs when you become a parent.  Brain damage like secretly thinking that other people's children are nice, but your own are PERFECT.   It also includes thinking that taking the picture of her with poop on her hands or spaghetti all over her head is funny.  For the record, your children are also perfect and I have not photographed poop.  Spaghetti head - guilty.  I have the parental brain damage.  There I said it.

Before my own child came into our world if you asked me what the words that came to mind when I saw a kid running around wearing just a diaper and I was being honest my own social prejudices would spew out of me in an ugly way:  Trashy, Unkempt, Welfare, Bad parenting, Child Neglect Trailer park, Spaghetti-O's  (ooh, the honesty... it hurts me.)

I have a child who is well cared for, clean fed and we are attentive. She lives in a nice place, she can pay her rent (with assistance from the tall people) and she also likes to be NAKED.  At the end of the day her parents like to change out of their day clothes into what we call "squishy pants" - essentially pj bottoms, good cozy socks and tops.  Lucy likes to rid herself of her glitter and water based finger paint stained shirts and toddler jeans and be free.  There isn't much difference between squishy pants and a clean diaper.   I apologize for any judgement I may have passed on random naked toddlers.  I have been informed by a specific toddler that there are times when she will flat out do what she wants.

We are able for the most part to keep her clothed when other people are around and when we're out in public.  However, there was nakedness at Thanksgiving.  I can see where she might have felt comfortable.  After dinner there was a palpable vibe of "oh, I wish I wasn't wearing these tight pants" going on in every corner of the house.  Lucky Lucy, she was able to pull off her dress and be done with it.  I bet Uncle Marty was a bit envious.  Thankfully, he doesn't wear a diaper so the pants stay on.  WHEW.

I will keep monitoring STFU Parents to keep my public parenting infractions to a dull roar but if you see them know that I AM holding back way more than I post.

Speaking of things I wanted to share:  

Last night we sang "Old MacDonald" in the bathtub.  Her 'EIEIOooo" makes up for the fit she threw in Target.  Well, not totally, but I forgave her for my having to carry her out of the store while she screamed and tried to get away.  These battles are rough, but she will learn that safety things are NOT negotiable.   I was thankful to receive thumbs up and nods of encouragement from other parents as I manhandled her out of the store.  Funny how a "you can do it" or "it'll pass" from a total stranger with calm kids in tow helps.

I drank the mommy koolaid, but thus far I'm not posting pictures of her 'art' to Pinterest... yet.

*STFU means "Shut the f*ck up"

Questionable Parenting

I still feel like this blogging thing is a nice creative outlet.  However when I am inspired to share my deep and meaningful inner thoughts I tend to find myself knee deep in crayons, apple sauce or life safety issues for a toddler.

I'm not complaining (much).  This parenting gig is pretty great.  She thinks I'm awesome and wants me to play with her all the time.  My heart melts when she grabs my hand or when we're talking with someone new (to her) and she hides in my legs.  I do recall when I was a kid how there was safety in those parental legs.

Lucy knows she's supposed to sit when she eats and she knows where the "jellies" are.  Jellies are fruit snacks made with fruit juice - essentially candy with the idea of fruit to make us parents feel better.  When we enter the kitchen she plops herself on the floor in front of the pantry door and sweetly asks 'jess pees' this translates to "May I please have a jelly snack; I'm quite hungry and you were put on this earth to meet my needs." Note her excellent use of the semi-colon, an art lost on most toddlers.

Last night I gave her the little bag of delightful treats and decided to sit with her while she ate them.  Yup, I'm the kind of mom who will plop herself on the floor.  It serves multiple purposes, it shows her that the floor is for all people and helps me find the dust bunnies that I can't see from my staggering height.  Ok, 5 foot 5 inches tall is not staggering per se, but it is hard to find all the dust bunnies from that altitude.

We were sitting on the floor with our backs resting against some cabinets. Her feet were stretched out in front of her as were mine.  As mine are a tiny bit longer than hers (see above noted paragraph) my feet were resting on the bottom rung of a nearby stool.  She and I were deep into a conversation about the merits of grape vs. cherry jellies when she started to skootch forward on her bum.  I was about to ask her where she was going when I figured it out.  She slid forward until she could prop her feet onto the foot rest where my feet were.

I know... trite parenting stuff.  GET A ROOM.  But wait, this is my room.  So I get to tell you (if you're still here) how it made me smile, but also made me take a mental note that this little jelly filled being is seriously paying attention to what is going on around her.  No more off color sarcastic jokes that "she doesn't understand".  The last thing I need is for her to make a "dirty sanchez" comment to the teachers at school.

It's kind of a silly story - we have an entire community of Fisher Price Little People. They are pretty cute and have come into our home on airplanes, trucks, buses and the Super Friends transportation system.   They are quite the ethnically diverse group and we have named each one and made an effort to keep the names in line with their heritage.  Lele is on her way to visit family in Hawaii, Jamal is the airplane pilot.  Pat is the androgynous tourist.   Madeline is the token disabled kid (glasses AND a wheelchair.)  Mr. Sanchez is the school crossing guard. It's a toss up as to whether he is Hispanic or Indian but Lucy cannot pronounce Gaurav or Chandramouli just yet, so Hispanic he shall be.   Well, last night Lucy took a diaper off one of her dolls and gently placed Mr. Sanchez (and a rather fresh Lego lady) into the diaper and we, the inappropriate parents, made a Dirty Sanchez joke.   I guess at this point you're either eye rolling at our horrid child rearing  skills or running to the Internet to look it up.  For the record knowledge of what a Dirty Sanchez is does not imply participation or acceptance of such activities for this household.   You may do what you like - but ick.

Madeline and Mr. Sanchez

"Dirty Sanchez"

Gosh and now that I've written Dirty Sanchez into my blog four times it will pop up whenever someone does a search for it.  What a boring shock that will be.

I would like to note that at no point was the DS phrase mentioned out loud in front of the child and we have always spoken of all the little people with the utmost respect.  Other than influencing the origins of their names they are all equal in our eyes.  I'm however ashamed to admit that pretty little Lego woman is a problem and we do find her in many compromising positions with her two Lego men friends.  If it keeps up we may have to send her to readjustment camp to focus on her morals, if she can't change her ways that little girl slut may have to move out.

On a more acceptable parental activity front. We put up our Christmas tree and took the strategy to install the tree (pre-lit) one day and put up soft kid-friendly ornaments the next and then fill it in with all of the other special items the following day.  She is naturally drawn to the tree, but after explaining that we look with our eyes and not our hands, and then a quick round one, round two of time outs for grabbing items on the tree she seems to appreciate that we're not messing around with our statement that she isn't to touch the tree.    We have left off the delicate antique glass ornaments this year and the candy canes are still up for debate.

That's where we are this week.  I'l check back in later and I'm sure there will be pictures of the kid in the future.

How to piss off a toddler

Over time Lucy has warmed up to Auntie Chelsey, but Chelsey does not get the same baby lovin' from Lucy that I get from her daughter.  Sure, sweet JP is working me for my access to treats like crackers and chips, but I'll take my baby love where I can get it.

We were over at their house last night and after dinner had moved to the floor in the living room.  The girls had every toy out and were busy moving between the toy kitchen, the puzzles, and the baby dolls.  One of JP's dolls had a sound box in her back and I just had to turn it on.  You know me, can't leave anything alone.

The creepy little doll had barely enough battery to sustain the weak but never ending cry.  It was frightening to me and I was expecting it to make noise.  Lucy on the other hand freaked out.  She cried and ran to the nearest adult who seemed safe.  THIS WAS NOT MOMMY.  I made the situation worse by trying to get the damn doll to shut up but in doing so hugged it and gave it a motherly pat on the back.

I believe it was that exact moment that I became Mama-non-grata.  Lucy wanted nothing more to do with me for the rest of the night.  She sat safely in Auntie Chelsey's lap and played with puzzles but wouldn't come to me.  When Chelsey moved closer to me (with Lucy in tow) Lucy simply stood up and went over to the safety of dad.  NICE.

I will tell you that I make a purposeful effort NOT to always be the one to run to Lucy's aid when a trauma occurs.  If she knocks her self down and Jason is closest he is the parent who provides the comfort.  Sure, I want to throw whatever thing I'm doing on the floor, knock over the kitchen table to get to her, but alas it is good for her to know that we both are comforting on a bad day.

Last night though, she was scared and mad.  It made me sad to be the source of that agony.  She manages to well up with actual tears all the time, but these cut me to my core.

Thankfully, as far as 'things that mommy has done me wrong" lists go, this error in judgement on my part seems to have been forgiven.  She was cuddly with me this morning and did not want me to leave her at school.  We'll see if she remembers the creepy doll next time we're over there.

A bird in the hand is MUCH better than this

WARNING:  Parental over-sharing is about to happen.

In case you don't want to read on, here is a picture of a spooky spiderweb in the tree in front of our house.  I wouldn't want you to think that you surfed over here for nothing.

Ok, with that taken care of lets move on to what I'm thinking is hopefully the worst of the worst of parenting activities.  Lucy pooped in my bare hand.  See, now you're disgusted and wish you had clicked away after looking at my pretty spider web.

How on earth does a 19 month old kid poop on their mom!?  This is the question that I'm sure you were just noodling on, or more than likely wish you weren't noodling on.

Here's our story. Friday I was home working trying to catch up from being at the conference all week when the phone rings at 11:20 am.  The caller ID says it is the day care.  I answer without a hint of fear, heck maybe they just wanted to call to say how nice Lucy's hair looked or to remind me personally that they were going to be closed Monday.  Either way, I answer the phone "Lucy's mom".  Sigh.  It is when you are least expecting things that the the world goes wonky.

Lucy got into an altercation at day care with a member of her class (they won't tell me who) and she got bit... hard.  The little carnivore broke the skin and drew blood.   Calmly I ask if she's ok and tell Miss A. that I'll call her back in about 30 minutes.  Honestly, this was not a panic situation, but I decided to call the pediatrician just to see what they suggest.  My hope was neosporin and hugs.  NOPE.  We were given the first available appointment at 1:50 pm.  That pretty much ends my super productive work day as there is no taking the kid back to day care at this age.  Once we pick her up she is ours again.  This isn't a school rule, but a know thy toddler thing.  Eventually, she'll go to the dentist or doctor and get taken back to school, but under the age of three, I don't think it's happening. -Late afternoon or early morning appointments are my goal.  1:50 is smack dab in the middle of the day.  ICK.

Lucy's bite looked like it hurt.  While the doctor cleaned it with super special medical soap she told me that a human bite is second only to the bite of a kimono dragon or some other mystical being.  Either way, it earned Lucy a 5 day round of antibiotics.   This disappoints me because unlike liquid tylenol or advil she HATES it, so each dose is a wrestling match and this is her third round in 19 months and since eventually the virus' will adjust to the antibiotics I hope to keep her exposure low in case we run into a scenario in which it is dire.  With that said, I did not push back on the doctor in this case.  My medical degree has not yet arrived in the mail (the post is slow from Nigeria) so I deferred to my more papered colleague.

The trouble with antibiotics is that they can upset the tiny tummy.  (See, now we're getting back to the original topic.)  Our poor girl has not responded well and has had a mild diaper rash since day 2.  Since we were home through Monday I was able to keep the diaper rash to a dull roar because I'm only managing one child, whereas day care is managing 8-10.  I can spot a poopy diaper and respond instantly, but the teachers are busy breaking up the bite to the death wrestling matches over toy ownership.

Fast forward to bath time two nights ago.  Lucy won't sit in the water because it hurts her bottom.  I get her all scrubbed and clean and we're spending a few minutes (safely) playing with the tub toys on the ledge when I spot the tale tell (tell tell?)  signs of an impending poo.   We've experienced poop in the tub before, which is an unpleasant event that results in an emergency bleach of the tub, all the toys, my hands, and anything else I see.   To avert the tub contamination, my instinct was to reach out and 'take the poo' and flush it.

I don't tell you this story because I think it indicates what a good mother I am.  I tell you this story because I had an idea that poo would be part of the parenting gig, but voluntarily taking one in the hand wasn't on my list.

As I was telling Jason about it he said that he was proud of me.  You see, I'm grossed out by lots of things - snot bubbles, for one, make me gag  (GAG)  and this hits high on the gag meter.   I told him that I did ok when Lucy was throwing up and for 3 hours or more I held her while she threw up all over me.  I think I was able to do that for her because she's a small person who didn't understand.  I told Jason I couldn't do it for him.  He disagreed and then said 'if I was really sick you could do it, now if I pooped in your hand that would be a different story."  INDEED

I think we can all agree that the marital vows did not, do not and never will include adults pooping into the hands of their partners.  I don't even think it needed to be said - but I am glad we are crystal clear on that front.

So, there's my gross story.  Today is Lucy's last dose of the bad liquid, we have no rash left to speak of and last night she sat in the tub while having her bath.  Things are back to normal... until the phone rings again.

That's better!

Miss Rosario was in class this morning. Lucy hesitated at the door but by the time I stepped in and stowed Lucy's replacement diapers Lucy was happily sitting at the breakfast table with cheerios, toast and juice. "Mama who?" I gave her a quick smack (kiss) on the head and off I went to start my day. So much better than tears!

In the "maybe a gadget will do it" category I bought a cute toy that seems like a good find.  The OK to Wake! Owl has a couple features that I think I'm going to love.  The primary thing is that his little face lights up and turns green when it is ok to wake up.  (I set it for 6:00 am.)  She can touch his tummy at anytime (like she does the glo-worm) and if it isn't 6:00-6:30 the face is a soft yellow and it says nicely, it's not time to get up yet, and then plays music for a minute and then goes back to "sleep".    At bedtime, it plays music for 5 minutes (about 4 minutes and 45 seconds longer than the glo-worm.)

The reviews say that once a kid masters the tummy activated sound that they adjust well to the green light approval.  To make sure she understands I will make sure to be there when the Owl turns green to reinforce the message.   Well, I'm actually away this weekend, so Dad will be on Owl duty this weekend. If I come home and the clock is set to 9:00 am, someone will be in trouble.    HA HA  as if she wouldn't body slam her bed through the doorway by 9:00 am.

Don't leave me!

not my legs

According to the National Institute of Health, and every mom friend I have in the world, separation anxiety is normal at this stage of the game with Lucy.   The NIH says she will grow out of it by the age of two and that leaving her with trusted care givers is a fine way to help her learn that mom & dad are coming back.

This is all well and good, but it is hard to hear her cry the ugly cry when I leave her at school.  She doesn't do it every day, but now that it is fall the primary morning teacher Miss Angelica is on a personal errand - dropping her own kids at (real) school and the office manager Ms. Lindy is holding down the fort with the toddlers.

Ms. Lindy is a kindly lady who likes the kids, but she has a different rhythm and Lucy feels it.  The 'regular' teachers say that Lucy is fine after I leave and we were told before SA started that the best thing to do is to make the good-byes quick and loving.  It's hard to muster a breezy "bye-bye" with kisses when she's experiencing a real emotion.  As MOMMY my instinct is to hug her and hold her until she calms down.  OBVIOUSLY that instinct is 100% counter productive in this scenario.  She's safe, all the other kids are fine (even little Lily who was the SA queen 2 months ago) and time will take care of it.

It's funny how some of the mommy instincts will actually bite you in the butt after a while.  One mom friend from work told me she was exhausted (her daughter is a year old) and I sympathetically asked "what is going on?"  "Nap training" was the answer.  What?  I've never heard of that as a thing and I wondered is there an Olympic sport in the art of napping?  If so, my dad might be an Olympic medal contender.

No, it's not a sport but she shared that now that her daughter is a year old they (she and the nanny) are training her to nap without being held.  WHAT!?  Yes, you heard that right.  For the entire first year of this lovely child's life the mom or the nanny has cuddled her during daytime naps.  I'm sure this felt natural and wonderful.  I mean who doesn't love a sleeping baby, but holy cheese balls batman baby naps are for the entire family.  During naps I have napped, done laundry, showered, done my hair for real (not just a pony tail), worked in the garden, read, cooked, taken baths, mowed the lawn, painted (yes), had personal moments with Mr. tpgal, and cleaned house.  Clearly, some of those activities are far more fun than others and seldom did more than one or two ever happen at each nap time, but I can't imagine sitting quietly in her room for two hours each day.   Our situations are different, their daughter is home all day with a nanny and a works at home some of the days mom and ours goes to a day care.  The option to hold and cuddle her during naps wasn't present for us.  However, now that their little princess is a year old, being held for naps is her expectation and she's not transitioning well.  When I talked to the mom they were four days into this adjustment and I do hope for their sake that they stuck it out and now have a routine.

Lucy will put up a fight at nap-time from time to time, but it is short lived and she always ALWAYS wakes up a happier, more pleasant child.

At bedtime, we have a routine.  A bath (now around 6:30)  which is followed by reading books (1-5 depending on her ability to participate. The more active she is at reading time the more tired she is (again, that doesn't seem right, but it is true.)     Once the books have been read, we put them away and go brush our teeth.  She happily walks over to the sink, and starts to climb the step-stool.  She plays with her tooth brush and with that one or the one in my hand we brush those little pearls well.   Once the teeth are brushed she wipes off her hands and then gets to shut off the light in the bathroom.  (why this is fun I don't know, but she loves it.)  Then it's kisses and dad puts her to bed.  By the time he gives her her blanket she's doing the cutest yawns.   Sometimes she talks and jabbers away, but she's not unhappy.    We know that putting her to bed while she is awake had saved us and will continue to save us hours of agony.

The NIH says that in a severe case of separation anxiety that it can extend to bedtime, and we have our fingers crossed that she knows we are here for her even if she doesn't see us in the room.

For the record, in no way do I feel that our parenting techniques are perfect and the comments about my co-workers situation shouldn't be considered mom against mom judgement, but merely a "damn girl, that sucks".

A huge mess

Lucy and I were hanging out on the front porch "playing with bubbles."  She wouldn't let me hold the bubble gun and then fixated on the tub with the bubble solution.

Let the zany antics of a 16 month old ensue.

The joys of mommyhood

For the most part, this parenting thing is very rewarding. It ticks all the boxes for "you get way more than you give". When Lucy sees me for the first time in a while, be it first thing in the morning, coming home from day care, or when I come downstairs after a moment in the loo, she lights up and either reaches for me or now that she can, runs to me. The "I'm the greatest thing in the whole world" meter ticks pretty high at those times. Sure, it's a bit narcissistic, I'm aware that a dog who is beat frequently will continue to love and adore his master, but this isn't the same kind of relationship. I seldom make Lucy sleep outside or beat her with a stick. She gets all the fresh water she wants and a 1/2 cup of crunchy food in the morning. She's a happy girl.

I wont fall!

Actually, there are numerous things she does that are adorable and bring me joy. Small things such as when she's done with her milk it is important that she (and only she) put the lid to the bottle back on. She does NOT want help. She has embraced the art of 'kissing' and while she blows kisses to all the teachers and classmates at school, she saves the special kisses for Mommy and Daddy. These kisses are mouth kisses, but she leans in with her mouth open and makes contact while saying "aahhhh". We are working on teaching her to kiss with her mouth closed, but every now and then it is my treat to take a milky, open mouthed kiss from my little peanut. She dances, but doesn't shake her booty just yet. Thus far, when the music moves her it is a head shaking and arm twisting joy. I think the booty moving will come when she's more solid on her feet. Speaking of... as she's zipping around the house on her two feet there are times when her center of gravity gets out of alignment and she will make every wild move to avoid falling over. Every now and then we catch her in a I'm-not-falling-off-this-balance-beam arm flail that makes us giggle.

Her love affair with the stairs is waning, but that just means we have to be on high alert. Our original idea of keeping she play world limited to the kitchen/family room area was not an achievable (dare I say a delusional) idea, Lucy is everywhere in the downstairs and we spend our weekends and evenings in a constant two person parade around the house. We take turns with her while the other parent does fun things like make food, clean up food, and other life chores. Laundry happens during the week while Jason & Lucy are away. That perk is reason enough for me not to change jobs. I can see how people who work outside the home and have one or more little people have piles of laundry in various stages of completeness.
Lucy's other 'cute' trick these days is a fascination with any gadget with buttons. The little cd/radio player in her room is an amazing toy. This little 7 inch square cube has no less than 20 buttons that she can click, click, click. This morning she somehow set a snooze alarm that nearly caused my heart to stop when it finally went off. The alarm was so loud that it sounded like the walls were shaking. I know someday she will set the thing to go off at three in the morning and we'll go crazy trying to figure out what it is. As buttoned items go, the tv remote use to be the #1 coveted toy, but the iPhone is now the top 'want!'. This brings me to the ugly truth about parenting.

Kids are jerks.


I didn't make that up, Christopher Walken said it in his interpretation of the classic story "Where the Wild Things Are." He also said 'kids like George Wendt', but that didn't resonate with me as much as the declaration that 'kids are jerks.'

Lucy expresses her jerkiness in lots of special ways. Her inability to cope when things don't go her way is a small sign of this fact. I will do something horrible such as not give her the phone, not let her walk in the middle of the street or change her diaper after she's made a 'boom boom' (that's grandpa's term) and she will hop up and down, cry, with actual tears and hit a pitch with her voice that moves the water in my inner ear to the point that I'll have to lay down to get my balance back. Other tricks include slapping, and the oh so cute body flop and kick. I've read that all kids go through this and we are working on "identifying our feelings" so that when she CAN talk she can calmly say "damn it mama, I want the remote or I'm going to feel angry." We are very much working on making it clear that slapping and grabbing are not ok, but unlike a four year old these are lessons (for Jas & I) in being consistent, firm and calm.

She's not a possessed child (all the time.) We have figured out that most often when she's acting up something else is wrong, and it usually can be remedied with sleep. However, those moments of wickedness on her part wear on a person. I can see where parents with out other coping skills (aka GIN) can forget themselves and respond to the toddler temper tantrum in like fashion. I'm aware that these frustrations will lighten up and then be replaced by some other trauma like having to eat peas when pizza is wanted. The naming of feelings feels a little bit like parental mumbo jumbo, but when she's able to express the difference between mad, scared and hurt it will make calming down a bit easier.

The things that Lucy wigs out about seem to change daily, but then so does her world. This morning she was pissed that I wouldn't give her my coffee cup, but then she also explored the upstairs bedroom, closet, bathroom loop on her own for the first time. (This reminds me honey, we MUST put the cupboard door safety locks on the cabinet in the laundry room this weekend. She doesn't know those cabinets are there yet, but she'll find them and all the cleaning stuff is in there.) We were able to do our morning routine with her doing laps. Well, my modified morning routine anyway. I use to shower in the morning and do my hair - now, i shower at night and if I'm lucky I get to wet my head down to do my hair, but more often than not...ponytail. I can see why after having three hundred children Kate Gosselin opted to chop of the ponytail to save herself some time in the morning.

Sure it looks stupid, but it's not a mommytail!

Back to our story,  every day is something new and the 'good crap, she's a jerk' moments are fewer than the 'oh, I have the sweetest baby in the whole world' moments.  Both are probably a slight exaggeration.  Also, I've met some of your children and they are also sweet angels who are above acting up because you don't happen to have seedless jam on hand, so don't go all crazy on me any say that I'm disparaging YOUR child.  I'm only speaking a truth that few parents will admit.  It is a GOOD thing we love these little beasts because there are times when a kennel could come in handy.

Weekend Recap

I did win money in the huge Mega Millions lottery.  I scanned my ticket this morning and the report came up that I'm a $2.00 winner.  I told Jason and he asked for $1.  As Washington is a community property state, I guess I have no choice but to share. It kills me to give up half of my winnings, but honestly, he's worth it.

My Smart GuyFriday, we got word that Jason passed his certification exam for the new technology platform he attended training on.  There were six people in his class and of the five that took the test earlier, only one passed.  He had to wait a week to take his exam (due to some crisis at work) and the results from his co-workers was making him nervous.   He applied that energy into studying and taking the practice tests and not only did he pass, but he did so with a very good score.  Way to go!

Happy Anniversary
Saturday, we strapped the kid into the safety seat and drove to Shelton to attend the 50th Wedding Anniversary party for some old friends. . Shelton is a small, logging town about 30 minutes outside of Olympia, and it's kind of on the way to the strange land where the Twilight Vampires live.  I did expect sparkly people to pop out of the woods from time to time.

The party was nice, but other than the happy couple we didn't know anyone.  There were people there that knew my parents, but the host was bad at introductions and would introduce us at "Art's daughter" but didn't offer the other persons name.  I did have a conversation with a gal who went to high school with my dad and his sister, but it was a short conversation.

Also, while sitting on the couch I found pin in the cushion.  Clearly, the lady or lord of the house is a sewer and crafts on the couch.  From that moment on my comfort level for letting Lucy roam on the furniture dropped to zero.  I'm sure I looked like a crazy person patting the furniture and picking at the cushions, but I couldn't get the memory of all the pins that would be everywhere in Aunt Evelyns furniture. on her floor, or when she'd leave my house after a visit.  She was not baby compatible.

The groom, Mike seemed smaller than I remember.  Granted I was wearing tall shoes, but for the first time ever he sort of felt old.  He seemed pleased to see us and I'm glad we went.  I had forgotten how he calls his wife "Mother".  Listen up boys, referring to your wife as Mother is creepy and wrong.  Jason calls me "mama" from time to time, but he does it when he's speaking on behalf of Lucy.  "Mama, can you get me a clean pair of pants?"  It is not "Mama, where would you like to have dinner tonight?" or "Mama, wanna make out?"  ICK

We stayed at the party for about an hour and then used Lucy as an excuse to move on home.  We decided not to backtrack and drove up the peninsula to Bremerton and took the ferry across to Seattle.  Our GPS decided we wanted to take the Southworth / Vashon ferry and we didn't figure out the mistake until we were at the Southworth exit off Highway 16.  It was 4:05 and we were hoping to make the 4:15 ferry.  I knew we wouldn't make it and would have to make Lucy suffer through an hour wait at the ferry terminal.  Thank goodness for Jason because he has faith.  We paid the toll at 4:13 and were the 3rd to the last car on the ferry.   Lucy was happy to be home and even managed to stay up and play until almost 6:45 pm.  (party girl!)

Sunday, Cranky Sunday
What is it about a kid who stays up "late" that feels the need to wake up early?  Our night owl from the night before woke up to start her day at 5:45 Sunday morning.  (Today, Monday, she had to be woken up at 7:00 am!)   We don't stay up late unless we have plans, which is a good thing, because even with a 10:00 pm bedtime, 5:45 am on Sunday feels early.

I'm not touching you!

With such an early waking we had time to make breakfast and have a leisurely morning.  In spite of the cup of good coffee and the excellent peanut butter toast I was cranky yesterday morning.  I was irritated at my most excellent spouse and knew it was borderline irrational, so I tried to keep it to myself.  However, in my state of spitefulness I picked up my own breakfast dishes and put them in the dishwasher, but did not touch his plate.  I wondered how long he would let it sit on the table before he did anything with it.  I finally put it away, while he was making dinner.  You can't be irritated at someone for their failure to pick up after themselves when you a) leave shit everywhere too and b) they are making you dinner.

My attitude adjustment came far later in the day, so during church I was still cranky and not at all happy with the discovery that it was Palm Sunday.  Now, as a day Palm Sunday doesn't piss me off, but they give out palm fronds and the kids (Jason and Eric) can not help themselves by using it to poke their neighbors.  To be fair, Jason didn't actually poke me in the face with the fond, but somehow being poked and having the thing .25 centimeters from your face feel like the same things.

After church, we headed home for a two hour nap for little Miss 5:45 is Awesome!  Jason did some work and I watched tv and sulked.

 We ventured out in the afternoon to the outlets in Woodinville.  The Hanna Andersson store does wonders for my mood.  The kid clothes are happy and bring summer into my world.  I hope Lucy likes girly stuff because I think it's the cutest.

Eddie Bauer had some nice finds too, including a very casual, but pretty summer dress for me and a pair of shorts I would not have purchased had they not been 50% off.  I was not at all pleased to discover after we left Woodinville that the clerk did not actually give me the 50% off for the shorts.  Grumble.   Rather than head back to Woodinville, we're going to stop at the outlet store in North Bend on our way to visit the Granger Grandparents and if they can't make the price adjustment I'll simply return the darned shorts.  Grumble.

All these minor irritations were nothing compared to how bad I felt for Lucy.  She had a "poop situation" or rather "I need to go and can't" situation.  Poor little bug worked on her problem all day and it was horrible to not be able to help her.  We loaded her up on juice (prune) and fruit as well as water but I think we may have just been adding pressure to the backlog (sorry for that imagery.)  Finally, at 5:30 she worked something out and it was clear she felt a lot better.  I warned the day care teachers that she might be extra poopy today but thankfully they haven't called to say "come get your angry, pooping child."

 What I find ironic is that she has one teacher that makes it seem like Lucy is the only child who "goes" a lot at school.  "Oh, every diaper, is poopy."  Where as, I know for a fact that everybody poops.  I read a book once.   I guess I shouldn't feel judged when Lucy goes on a regular basis, it is far worse when she doesn't, as that's when I know that her diet is off.

By bedtime I had shaken off my dark cloud and went to bed with a sunny attitude.  One of the frustrating things about a bad mood is that it seems to cascade; my ability to roll with normal minor issues is diminished and I'm not the person I want to be.  Thankfully, that was yesterday, today I am very much back to normal.  In fact, when I cut a hole in my shirt while removing tags from the pretty Hanna Andersson clothes I didn't even cry or curse.  The other good thing... only 13 sleeps until we leave for Maui.

Maui!!!!!!!!!!!

Parents of the year

Jason, hands down, wins husband/dad of the year award for taking care of Lucy while I was sick.  Granted he didn't really have a choice, the simple act of getting up to do anything would cause my fever to spike and I had to change pj's multiple times during the weekend simply to avoid the chills.  (Sweat through the pj's then get cold because of the wet items.)  But, he made it ok for me to sleep the illness off without any guilt that he was tired or needed a break, and for that I'm very grateful.

Here's a parenting secret that no one wants to say out loud - no matter how much you love your baby it is exhausting to be "on point" at all times.  Her needs come first, and you don't realize how much you need 10 minutes to collect your own thoughts until you don't have 10 minutes.

There is a fair amount of guilt when you have feelings of relief when the baby finally takes a nap and you can sit and 'veg' for a moment.  There is (internal) pressure to get the house spiffed up or take care of those things you can't do while the baby sleeps.  Sometimes this works.  Case in point, Sunday while Lucy napped Jason and I were able to put up the holiday lights on the front of the house.  When you're solo parenting, you need that nap time to rejuvenate yourself.  Sometimes it doesn't work, when I was sick, nap time was a much needed dad break.  Our house was a messy land of bottles, toys, half sorted mail, un-stowed groceries and other evidence of projects half completed.

I know that I have a good partner because he didn't complain about this weekend of solo parenting nor did he think it was a burden.  Parenting is something we knowingly signed on for and it is fantastic when there are two of us to make it easier, but both of us are aware there will be times it is a single parent activity.    Ages ago, I heard the husband of a friend say he was "babysitting" and my girlfriend flipped out a bit and had to remind him that he was not babysitting, but parenting.  Technically it is just a label, but for my friend the difference was the implication that his being "on point" was unusual.  It has been over 10 years and this man has showed himself to be an excellent father, so this verbal misstep wasn't a critical parenting fail.

Before the baby came, we did lots of reading and a common theme came up over and over. Parents are tired.   "I feel like I haven't slept in 15 years", "I haven't slept the whole night through since 3 months before the baby was born", "I'm asleep before my head hits the pillow."  I would confirm that indeed, I like these parents am tired, but it is not an overwhelming weariness that some of the girlfriends described.  I'm thankful for that, especially since I'm doing this parenting thing 10-15 years later than most of my peers.  I was worried that the 'tired factor' would be like a fog that would plague me every day.

Now for the reason that I get parent of the year.  Last night we had a bathtub / poop situation.  I thought the grossest thing I would have to deal with in relation to blow outs that escaped a diaper, or boogers.  Oh boogers are so very icky.  <gag>    Lucy is so happy in the tub, she loves to slap at the water and chew on the float toys. Bath time is a great way to spend 30 minutes with a tired girl at the end of her day.  I really do love it and while it oddly conflicts with my need to be doing multiple things at once, sitting on the floor by the tub is a treat.  Last night, well, not so much.

I went to get a towel (2 feet away from the tub) and came back and she was making the "intense" face.  I knew what was happening, but my options were slim.  I could freak out and grab the naked, wet and actively pooping child and put her on the floor, in the clean towel I just grabbed, hold her in mid air or I could let her finish and then take her out of the tub immediately.    I chose the last option - it seemed the least messy.  I did try to scoop up the toys (but ended up bleaching them all anyway) and wash cloths that were in the water.

Poor Lucy - once she was done she knew immediately that things were not right.  I mean, normally there is poop and it stays in the diaper until Mom or Dad make it go bye-bye.  It is very contained and she never has to see it.  She was unhappy with the situation and did not mind the quick extraction from the tub.  I got her cleaned up, a sponge bath after the bath, dressed and then took her down to dad (who was making me dinner).  Then I had to come back and clean it up.  I considered just moving to a new house, but the idea of packing up all those DVD's makes me nauseous.   When I was done, the tub was properly cleaned and the bleach smell as abated as of this morning.   The cleaning fairy comes Friday  and she may be cleaning the cleanest tub in town, but that's OK with me.

I used the "sanitize" mode on my fancy washer for the first time (towels, rugs, wash cloths, my shirt) and I feel safe in that the situation has been contained.  Lucy doesn't seem traumatized, which is nice.  I would prefer for her not to have poop hangups.  I'm a bit traumatized but I guess that is to be expected.

Logic says there will be something MORE disgusting in my future, but I'm thankful I can't imagine what it might be.

I feel confident that this month, Jason and I have earned our 'parents of the year' badges.  Someday, when Lucy is 15 or 16 I'll retell the poop in the tub story in front of some new friend or maybe even a boyfriend.  Oh, I can't wait.

Squawking Lucy

We may need more coverage than that...

BTW... it's a joke