Nursemaid's Elbow

Nursemaid's Elbow (Radial head subluxation): This is a common injury of the small child's elbow. Tiny ligaments normally help hold the elbow together. One of them slipped between NICHOLAS's upper and lower arm bones as they were pulled slightly apart. As the bones come back together, this ligament got stuck. This ingury happens if you pull your child's hand with the arm in just the right position.

In other words, I dislocated my child's elbow.

I can not begin to tell you how awful I felt about this when the doctor told me - just as she popped the elbow back into place with her bare hands, and Nicky screamed and cried as I held him on my lap.

I am still not sure how it happened. I am NOT the type of person who dislocates her 2 year-old's elbow! That isn't ME! I don't even believe in spanking my kids, for crying out loud! And in this case, I wasn't even angry. I was only the slightest bit frustrated. I had Nate in one arm and was trying to get Nick upstairs for a nap, but he felt this was highly unjust as his dad wasn't coming upstairs to nap WITH him, and protested by collapsing to the floor in a dead weight. I was trying to pull him upright so I could pick him up and get him up the stairs. And suddenly I realized he was clutching his arm...

At the hospital I kept expecting someone to yell at me, or a social worker to appear and question me furiously. At home, Steve kept expecting the police to show up and question HIM. But no one did. All the doctors and tech people were very helpful and understanding. Although some of them seemed to think that if the spoke in "baby talk" that Nicholas would somehow understand them. ("Do yoo have a booboo? Can you show nursie whea bobo huts? See these litew man faces? See how he's reawy sad cause it huwts? See how he's happy cause he doesn't huwt? Can you point wif yoa fingew and show nursie how yoo fiew now?")

They did an X-ray, too, and ruled out any fracture of the bone or the wrist. By the time we left the hospital Nick was using his arm again and by the time we were home he was his hyper self, jumping off furniture and crying because we wouldn't let him eat his crayons. As far as he's concerned, it's ancient history. But I think I'll remember this one for a long while.

ants in my pants

You would not believe how messy our aouse is right now. Because I was feeling so sick yesterday I took the "day off," which is sort of like a cosmic joke, because I still had to take care of the kids, and no one stepped in to do my job for me so now... ants are crawling around our sink, which is filled with dishes. The dishwasher is full of clean stuff (hey - at least we HAVE one!) The washer has some wet stuff I put in to soak yesterday after Nathan - in complete disregard for my "taking-the-day" announcement, pooped through his outfit and onto a blanket... So here's a small list of "updates."

Puck, the cat, came home. The next morning I heard him meowing at the side door, his white fur completely gray and an entire tree stuck to his rear end. Glad he's back.

Nathan can now roll over quite easily from his back to his tummy! In fact, he has trouble NOT rolling over onto his tummy. This is problematic because he hasn't figured out exactly how to roll from his tummy to his back, and he HATES being on his tummy. SO I can only put him down for a few moments before the screaming begins.

We started giving Nathan rice cereal - and peas and apples. He doesn't like the rice cereal, but loves the other stuff. He gets angry as soon as I stop feeding him, and he's already tried to steal food from my plate. I can't wait until he's ready for teething crackers. But teeth mean formula full time, if you get my drift.

Nicholas has discovered the word "MINE." Everything is HIS, the toys, the pots and pans, the ceiling fan... At dinner he refuses to eat, asking to be done, but he cries if you then take his food away. "MY FOOD!" he screams. You would think we were stealing bread from a starving child the way he cries. "PIZZA! My Pizza!" HE cried last night. But he didn't want to eat it. Apparently he just wanted to hold it and take it to bed with him, which was NOT going to happen - not while I'm washing the sheets.

Month of Steve

I have officially declared June The Month of Steve. This is because our anniversary, his birthday, and Father's Day are all packed in there. And I need to find ways to make each of those days special.

Even though I told Steve not to get me anything for our anniversary, he did anyway. He bought me flowers - FLOWERS, PEOPLE! Orange roses - the peachy yellow kind with dark orange tips... I know nothing about roses. But these are beautiful. PLUS he got me a package at a local Salon / Day Spa. And that makes him a very, very great guy. Especially considering what I gave him, which was a filet mingnon and some undercooked potatoes. He has always been better at giving me gifts than I have at giving HIM gifts.

I have his birthday and Father's Day to wow him with a present. Ideas welcome.

June 1, 2002

I was a little bit sick on the day of our wedding. I had a sore throat and was feeling icky. Kind of like today, now that I think of it. But despite that, despite needing regular doses of Advil and not being able to drink as much champagne as everyone else seemed to be, the day of our wedding was wonderful. See how happy we are in the picture? And no, I'm not just thinking about how I'm about to eat cake.

Our first anniverary was a bit untraditional. I thought really hard, and decided the best way to spend it would be with my mother at a car race in a different country. Kidding. Kind of. Actually, my parents and their friend Jack somehow managed to get us tickets to the Grand Prix in Monaco, and it just happened to be on our first anniverary. My mother came with us. The race was... interesting. Hot. Smoky. Loud. I never thought I could fall asleep in so much heat and noise. But I did. My mother read a book. Afterwards we walked miles back to a cafe and my mother bought us a late lunch with champagne and we had a lovely time and the whole trip was wonderful - the WHOLE trip, even the monkey cheese part, even the long hikes up stairways, even when I spilled diet coke on those people's white sofa.

Our Second anniverary was different. I got discharged from the hospital, but they wanted to keep an eye on newborn Nicholas, so we had to leave him in the NICU. At this point they were telling us that either he'd be fine or they'd be rushing him in for heart sugery. I sat in front of the TV crying and we watched The Secret of Nihm.

Last year we didn't do much of anything. The day before we had gone out to dinner... ALONE... but it only took us about 30 minutes to get through our meal. I was already pregnant with Nathan and Nick was just 1, so we were kind of both tired and it was good to get away, even for such a short time.

Tonight I'm feeding the kids and putting them to bed early - don't tell them. I'm going to have a go at a fancy dinner - we'll see what happens. I just want tonight to be special because I love Steve so much and getting married was so... it was just... it was such a GREAT IDEA!

Little Bo Bat has lost his...

I can't find my cat. Not Frank, the one in the picture, but Puck, the huge, fluffy, stupid white one.

Under normal circumstances I wouldn't even notice his dissapearance. But as luck would have it, I scheduled a vet appointment for 11am this morning, and I was hoping to find him and get rid of that large clump of matted fur on his back before stuffing him into the carrier so that the vet would have one less reason to look at me dissaprovingly and think "she doesn't deserve to HAVE a cat."

There are two possibilities. The first is that he saw me take the cat carriers upstairs last night, somehow linked them in his brain to the vet, and ran and hid. However, since this cat eats plastic wrap on a regular basis and can't figure out how to walk around a screen door to get in the house, I'm thinking he might be lost. Steve saw him last night around dinner time, and then... well, he might have slipped outside. It's huge out there. He might have run into the road. There are animals that might hurt him... like birds and deer. He is not very bright.

In the meantime, I have run all over the house looking in every nook and cranny, calling his name and shaking a bag of cat treats. I looked in drawers, in closets, and in toilets. I am trying not to remember that time Puck got caught in the wall (IN THE WALL) at our other place. I am trying not to think about how a large, sixteen pound cat who knocks things off shelves and sounds like a heard of elephants when he runs should be a little easier to find. Especially when he's ALL WHITE.

And when I show up at the vets with only one cat instead of two, the look the vet will give me will be oh, so much worse than the one for the clumpy fur.

Two Years Ago Today

I remember every detail about this day two years ago. Well... Fine. The drugs and the actual labor have made a couple of hours really really fuzzy, but they were always fuzzy. It isn't the same as the fuzziness time gives things.

Two years ago today I became a mother. It was an outrageous experience from the start, beginning with waking my brother up (he was visiting) at 7am to tell him we were leaving. The hospital we had registered in and toured sent us to Boston so we could be closer to a Neo-Natal Intensive Care Unit. We were so scared that stupid shadow on our last ultrasound meant something was wrong with Nick's heart. We got an ambulance ride to the other Hospital, and I still think the highlight of Steve's day was riding in front while the lights were flashing.

Nicholas was born either at 8:07 or 7:57, depending on if you beleive the birth certificate or Steve. I didn't even get to hold him before they whisked him off to the NICU, and I sent Steve after them. I went from being the center to attention in a crowded room to being left all alone - and I mean ALL ALONE - in the delivery room. I was hungry, I was lonely, and I was worried about my baby. I was also very jealous when Steve came back with polaroids of him holding Nicholas. But an hour later I got to go up and see him myself.

Today, in the present, Nicholas is sick. He has one of his colds, and he is miserable. Trying to keep him comfortable and hydrated is a miserable job. But it is totally worth it. It's ALL worth it.

Morning After

Yesterday we had Nicholas's bithday party, even though he doesn't technically turn two until... gulp... tomorrow.

At this age, kids don't really play "together." I mean, they might play together, but they don't play WITH each other as often as they play NEAR each other. So when I say we went to the 2nd birthday party of one of Nick's friends, it means that his mother and I get together and watch our kids play with the same bunch of toys for awhile.

Ever since that party, where there were 30 something people, two cakes, tons of presents, and a pinata, Nick kept saying "Birthday?" We told him he was having a party. He was so excited. So when he woke up from his nap yesterday and I dressed him in his cute car overalls, he was jumping out of his skin. He could hear his Gramma's voice from downstairs. I kind of overdid it on balloons, but I think it was worth it. Steve's Aunt and cousin came, and a friend I used to work with and her family, including her little boy, James. Nick was SO taken with James, even tough he's only a little over a year old. It was great! Nick was excited about the presents, but could have cared less about the food. Including the cupcakes. (I also overdid it on the cupcakes - I ended up with something like 50 of them.) He was running around and climbing out of bed and over the baby gate long after his bedtime. I'm sure the three juice boxes and all the sugar had nothing to do with it.

Overall, the party was a success because Nicholas had a wonderful time. I would have liked to see more kids there, but I think this is my issue and not Nick's. I thought about it and decided that when he's been in "school" for a while and had a chance to meet other kids and make his own friends, his third birthday could be more "kid" oriented.

Then I got very sad at how big he was getting and decided that he's not allowed to turn three. He has to stay two for as long as he can.

Which, let's face it, will probably be only about a year.

the night was...

Yesterday was one of the most humid days I can remember. In this house. We don't have air-conditioning in the main house, so we either have to suffer through it or hole up in the den, where the windows are blacked out so we can watch movies on a big screen.

Yesterday my friend Larissa also came to visit. She's in New Jersey, and we really don't see each other very often, so I was probably more excited than you would think.

Yesterday was also the day our new dishwasher was scheduled to be delivered. I was also understandably looking forward to this delivery, as I've been washing everything by hand since ours broke. Oh, I know, poor me, but really: 3000 sippy cups a day. No matter how I tried to consolidate.

At any rate, Larissa's visit consited mainly of our pretending that Steve wasn't in the room toiling in the wet heat trying to dismantle the old dishwasher, which it turned out was hardwired into the electrical system of the house. I told him to forget it, and that we'd call an electrician on Tuesday, but he shut the electricity off and took it out himself. I was sure he'd electrocute himself or set the house on fire or something. When the new dishwasher was delivered, it turned out that needed hardwiring into our system as well - I thought these things came with plugs. Who knew? So Steve did that, too. Larissa was a huge help distracting the kids, because Nick just wanted to "help" his dad, and Nathan has turned into Mr. Drooly-Grumpy Pants. Could be teeth. Could be the heat. It doesn't really matter because there's nothing I can do and he's miserable.

By the time Larissa left we had an almost-completely-installed dishwasher, one that is now completely installed and running. Ain't Steve great, everybody? One day, Larissa should come over and we can do the dishes together. Just like old times!

I love my house I love my nest...

Snow and rain and rocks withstanding (this IS the Granite State, after all) I really do love it here. I love "Live Free or Die." I love the New England style. I'm a bit conflicted about the whole buy-a-gun-at-Wal-Mart thing...
Sure, I'm hours away from art galleries and museums, but even if I lived next door, how often would I go? I'd spend my time feeling guilty for NOT going. "Boy, I sure should get over there and see that exhibit on Degas" I'd think. And then watch Monster-In-Law on Pay-per-view. I do miss being able to go out to eat after 8pm, but let's face it, I go to bed at 9. I never went to bars in the first place, preferring to indulge in my own home, where I won't have to compete with skany 20 year olds and huge guys who don't see me - no, they really don't and they elbow me in the chest and step on my feet as if I weren't there...
The other morning there were 5 deer just casually walking across our lawn. And a couple of hours later the walked back, one at a time, one of them running... As someone who grew up in "the country" in New Jersey, this is as rural as I need to get. But I love it. DEER IN MY YARD! Hooray!

a picture is worth a thousand words

Unfortunately, I will not be posting one today. I have run out of current photographs to post. Last weekend I tried to delete the already downloaded flood photos from my camera but keep the cute pictures of Nathan and Nicholas. I went through the pictures on my camera one by one, locking the precious ones of my boys. But then I forgot to SAVE MY CHANGES and threw them all away, except some images of water and our canoe. Needless to say I was not very happy.
And I have yet to download the NEW pictures off my camera.
So no photo for YOU!
As an update, Nathan has started on rice cereal - stop the presses! He's really great at getting it EVERYWHERE and eating next to none, but it's only been a few days. What he REALLY wants is a cookie, but so far I've said no.
And I have spent the rest of my time worrying about toilet training Nicholas. I think I actually might put it off for a nother couple of months, depending on what his doctor says.

Post 153: In Which I Loose My Temper

Yesterday was not a good day. I went to sleep too late, woke up too early, and the morning was packed with fun-filled activities such as getting my car inspected while waiting with a cranky infant and a hyperactive two-year-old.

When we got home I tried to run on the treadmill. Nap time for both boys is around 12:30, right after Lunch. It doesn't always work, but I knew Nick was sleepy, and Nate had slept for 20 minutes only the entire morning (not MY idea). I put Nick down, and nursed Nate... and nursed him and nursed him... he remained awake. I tried running, thinking he would fall asleep, but it didn't work. He screamed when I left him in his bassinet. He screamed when I put him on a blanket on the floor. He screamed when I tried to feed him. I was hopping on and off the treadmill like some running rabbit on crack, back and forth, desperately flipping my Ipod on and off, whipping my sports bra on and off, and picking up Nate to place him in different locations.

Finally I yelled. "What do you want from me!?! Fine! You win! No workout for Mommy!" I can go into detail explaining just why I was so upset and in tears, but to keep in short (too late!) I'll just say that 1 - I was at my wits end to calm my child and 2 - I really, really need a good workout every few days to keep me emotionally balanced.

Nate froze, looked at me, and then, of course, really started crying and sobbing and screaming and I felt absolutely horrible and was guilty and I had to go pick him up and shower him with kisses and cuddle him and then I actually had to listen to him scream as I was taking a shower and washing my hair because he wouldn't nurse while I was sweaty but once that was done and I picked him up he was OK, even if he still wouldn't nurse. And then Linda called and I have to tell you Linda that Nate fell asleep TWO MINUTES after I got off the phone with you.

I knew he was sleepy.

Nick woke up 5 minutes later.

I don't know why I try. I should just accept the fact that it is frustrating and I can't do what I want and it's just the way it is. That way there would at least be fewer screaming fits, even if I would have to run around naked all summer because I can't fit nto any of my pants.

A glimpse into my mind

Imagine the inside of my mind. Mostly cobwebs. Dust. Globs of play-dough. Lots of cake. Hopefully well away from the dust. Light streaming in through dirty windows. Curtains billowing in the breeze. Even though the windows are shut. Thoughts swirling around and around like... um... dust in the wind.

Things to do today... get the car inspected. Am I too late? I think it's supposed to get done within ten days of getting it registered. It's been much longer. Will they still do it? Oh well. Give the pets flea drops. Steve will do that. But I need to brush them first. ugh. I need to do that. And pay attention for ticks. Gunther probably has tons of them and we just aren't getting them. The vet will yell at me if he's covered in ticks. Friday - gunther to vet on Friday. I should bring a juice cup to the car inspection place. And snacks. It will be lunchtime... I should remember a bottle for Nathan. And I book. I'll bring the potty training book. I need to come up with a plan for that. And I need to follow it through and not give in. I need to be more patient. I need a new schedule. This one has us sitting in front of the TV too much. I think I'm warping Nate's brain.OH! I need to go to Wal-Mart and get cleaning stuff... paper towels... could Nate be ready for size 3 diapers? I need stuff for Nick's birthday party. I need to clean the house. oh no. clean the house. I'll never get the house clean in time. ugh. There's already cat hair all over the place. And the cooking - I'll have to cook... I can cook Saturday night. That's what I'll do. Clean Sunday morning... does it matter? It's only a few people. What if Nick's dissapointed? Can a 2 year old be dissapointed? Maybe I got him too many gifts. Maybe I didn't get the right ones. Maybe these are too old for him. He's having such a hard time with Nate in the high chair. What if I'm maessing him up? Then he'll NEVER be potty trained. He might be a non-potty trained serial killer. And it will be my fault because I moved his brother into his high chair too soon and failed at potty training and let him watch too many episodes of Blue's Clues...

It just goes on like this forever. Sometimes there are thoughts about Jude Law in there, but not at the same time as the thoughts on potty training or ticks.

Mission Too Sleepy

Step one in my mission was to turn off the baby monitor.

(I know, I know, everyone said to move Nate to the guest room, but that required too many decisions for my sleepy self. First off, where would he sleep the guest bed? No. Because he can now roll over. And even though I know he probably wouldn't fall off a queen sized bed, I don't want to test my theory and be wrong. His crib is too big to move through a doorway without dismantling it. I could put his bassinet in there, but there are a few reasons I'd rather not do that, if at all possible, so I made that Step 2, Which I haven't gotten to yet.)

Step 1 worked fairly well. Nate woke up once - or perhaps I should say, he woke ME up once, but since the REAL goal, the secret goal, what I'm really, truly trying to accomplish is more sleep for ME, this is fine. One time, at around 1am. I fed him, he went back to sleep.

And then he woke up at 5am. It's hard to know if I should count this as a second "awake" or as a really early "getting up." I wanted him to go back to sleep. But he felt that he was ready to begin the day. Unfortunately, he woke Nick up, too. We all ended up in Nick's bed while the boys took turns singing.

I am so tired that I could not help but feel true panic as I looked at today's 5 item to do list. Clean the cat boxes? How am I supposed to clean the stupid cat boxes? AND take out the trash? No way. It requires too much planning and thought, not to mention finess. I'm WAY TOO TIRED!

My Mission Should I Choose to Accept It

Remember when I said all that stuff about Nathan sleeping through the night, only waking up once, blah blah blah...? Remember all that? I take it all back.

At first I thought this was just a phase, that perhaps he wasn't feeling well. I got up with him each time he fussed and cried. Then I realized he was waking and NOT fussing, just practicing using his voice. But guess what?

MY BOYS SHARE A ROOM! Who thought up this brilliant bit of planning, you might ask? Why me, of course. Now whenever Nate wakes up and starts fussing, crying, or even just babbling, I rush in to get to him before he wakes up Nick, messing everything up because at this rate he'll NEVER learn to put himself down to sleep. I've even gotten into this nasty habit of taking Nate into the guest bed in the mornings so I can get more sleep and not wake Nick or Steve.

My mission is to find a way to let Nate put himself back to sleep, to go back to feeding him once a night (which I consider reasonable at this age) without waking up Nick. Or Steve, if possible, but mostly Nick, because as much as Steve loves me he doesn't start crying and make me rock him until dawn when he get woken up.

Lists To Make

I am a list maker.

I suppose most people restrict their list making to activities like grocery lists, so that when they go to the store they know what they need and don't forget the milk and the butter and instead bring home a 4th jar of pickles. I use a grocery list whenever I go shopping.

But I also make a list for my weekly trip to Wal-Mart. So that I won't get overwhelmed each day, I make a weekly schedule with a to-do list for each day, including things like "Wash hair." That way I won't forget to do anything, and I won't feel that panic when I look around and see all of the things I need to do. I just follow the list.

But that's not all. I make lists of bigger chores I need to do, like paint the basement, fix the dishwasher, get a new kitchen floor. I make lists of things I need to pack when I go on vacation. My trip to France 2 months from now? I've already made a list of what bags I will bring, what will go in each bag, and what I need to buy.

I have a whole notebook dedicated to lists. It keeps me from loosing my mind - when I ignore my lists I get stressed and grumpy. Is this crazy? Seriously, is it a crazy thing? Because it seems rigid at times, and a bit obsessive. But it works for me, I really have to tell you.

what's wrong in this picture?

At a loss for a topic for today. I have a lot of options, but since I temd to be long winded I need to think on them more, and either focus them so that I'm not writing a 25 page paper on how messy Nick is, or how funny Nate is, or how obsessive and neurotic I am... or let the ideas die a quiet death,

So here's a funny photo of Nick. It's Saturday, anyway, and people don't read blogs as much on the weekend. Visuals are much more weekend-friendly.

House of dust bunnies and fog

Last night Nicholas had one of him meltdowns as I put him to bed. He does this every now and then, screaming and sobbing for two or three days at bedtime, asking to be held. I would gladly hold him, but I needed to put Nate to bed, and experience has told me that he WILL NOT fall asleep when I hold him. He fakes it and then starts screaming when you try to tiptoe out of the room.

Nate slept soundly until midnight, at which point he woke up and began gurgling as thought it were 6am already. I fed him, I rocked him, but he insisted it was daytime. The fourth time I tried leaving him be in his crib, Nick woke up and I ended up with both of them smooched on my lap, Nick with his head on my shoulder and eyes wide open, and Nathan looking around and looking for the best way to roll off my lap.

I slept the rest of the night in the guest room while nursing Nate (he was still out of sorts from his shots or I wouldn't have.)

I promised Nick a trip to the library and Steve and I need to apply for Nate's passport. I am doing laundry. It is foggy, rainy, an thundery outside. Blah.

Nate at the doctor's

Nathan had a doctor's appointment this morning.

He is doing well. He had three shots, and only cried for ten seconds after they were administered. How macho! He is 15.5 pounds, and 25.25 inches tall, and everyone remarked on how cute and good natured he was.

The problem is, the carseat / carrier he currently uses, the one I was planning on using through our trip to France in July, when I need to take both boys on a plane and will need them for the car over there... the weight limit on the carseat is 20 pounds. The height limit is 26 inches. Nate isn't there yet, but probably will be by July. I'm unsure about what I'm going to do. We have one travel carseat, but I was going to have Nick use that one... Plus there is the other issue of needing to buy a second carseat for HERE. I was thinking Nick might outgrow carseats and we could just buy a booster, but he's far from 40 pounds. It wouldn't be a huge issue, but good, comfortable carseats are expensive.

The bottom line is: I have to think on this for awhile.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY WINSTON!

I just HAD to post about our jellyfish fungus-mold thing today, but the most important item on today's agenda is WINSTON'S BIRTHDAY. I wouldn't want him to be upstaged by mold.

My brother Winston, just so you know, is turning 29 AGAIN! Or so he informed me this past weekend. But in real life, he's 30, which is the new 20. Winston is a little disorganized and confused, so sometimes people call him Kenneth, or Ken. I am pretty sure he left his phone charger at my house. I have known him longer than I have known anyone else in my whole life (besides my parents.)

Happy Birthday, Winston! I love you lots!

Chubby Rain

The other day I found tree in our yard entirely covered with these:

At first I thought I was fruit of some kind, waterlogged by the storm. But I simply couldn't remember ever seeing anything on that particular tree before. And these things looke more like jellyfish than anything else. But it simply hadn't rained enough or flooded enough to explain jellyfish washing up on a 20 foot tall juniper tree. Besides, they were only in that tree, not in the ones around it, or on the ground or anything.

Then I started thinking about this Dean Koontz book I read called The Taking. I'm not a huge Dean Koontz fan but I can't help reading his books anyway. This book involved alien life forms coming down in a rainstorm, including molds or fungi that disfigured trees and plants, turning backyards and streets into odd swampy jungly environments... A bit like the plot for the film they made in the movie Bowfinger, where the aliens come down IN THE RAINDROPS... I guess a lot of rain can make you start thinking crazy things.

We are pretty sure this is Cedar Apple Rust, which does affect juniper trees. It looks gross, but Steve assures me it's harmless, unless you happen to have apple trees. Which we don't.

Wanted: Tools to Build Ark

During the heat wave we had a few weeks back we had a picnic on our lawn. We took a blanket, packed a lunch, and walked to the edge of the brook to enjoy the weather.

See our blue house? See the clump of trees with the shed? All this is now under a couple of feet of water. The water level has actually gone down a little bit, but it is still raining. Roads are closed - Steve just called me from work to tell me how I might get to the grocery store. I wouldn't even attempt it, but we're out of milk and soda, our two most important staples. And quite honestly if I don't get out of this house for a few minutes today I'm going to go all Jack Nicholson from The Shining .

Side Note: I have an entire bookshelf dedicated to Stephen King books. And yet, when I went to look up the name of the main character in "The Shining" I discovered that I DO NOT OWN THAT BOOK! The Shining is not in my library. How can this be? How could I have missed it? And where did I read it?

I SAID send SCOOOBA GEEER!!!!

My father and my brother Winston came up to visit me this weekend, which was really nice. It rained the whole time, but I like to think they had a good time anyway. They like to come up to visit from New York City, not only to see my boys, (Nick, Nate, and Steve) but because we have a nice bit of rural property. As you can see from the photo above, we have a good sized lawn, and there's always the brook in the back for canoeing or kyaking. What? You don't see the brook in that photo? Well, it IS hard to see... it's that small black line... here, maybe THIS photo will help:




I TOLD you it was raining! Didn't I? DIDN'T I?

We usually see the water swell a bit in the spring, but this is the highest we've ever seen the brook rise in the three years we've been here. Yesterday Steve and Winston waded (and kyaked) through the water to save the canoe, which was actually in more danger of sinking than floating away. Later I spotted some Foam Targets floating away from where the previous owners had stored them behind the shed.

The scariest part took place at 10:30PM last night, when we got a phone call from the authorities stating that they were having a voluntary evacuation because a dam up the road might wash out. Steve and I talked it over and decided that the water behind the dam wasn't that high. Some houses are much lower, closer to the water, but our is up on a rise, and it would take MUCH more flooding before it even reached our basement floor. When and if the time comes he promised me we would load all babies and pets into the minivan and drive to his mother's. He's working at home today just in case.

The worst part is that the rain hasn't stopped. It keeps raining, and the report on TV said it would rain all week.

Oh! MOTHER'S Day!

When I was a kid, Mother's day was one of those "not real" holidays. Even at a young age, I felt it was just a normal day in disguise, as though I knew it was just an excuse card companies made up to try and sell greeting cards. It didn't really count. Oh, I loved my mother, and I was glad she had me, and my younger siblings. I was happy to make her pancakes or buy her flowers or a tea set, something to make her smile. But something about the day... didn't apply. I didn't understand why she needed her own special day.

Now that I am a mother, I get it. Oh! Yeah! These past few nights when I've been getting up every 2 hours with Nate? Yesterday when he puked in my hair? When Nick puked at the breakfast table? The endless loads of laundry? The fact that I haven't been out to the movies in two years? Or been able to listen to a CD that isn't the Wiggles without someone crying asking for the Wiggles? The screaming, the crying, the whining, the 3000 diapers I have chenged - and the 3000 I will still have to change... the shopping, the dinner, the clean up... THAT'S WHAT IT'S FOR! TODAY! TODAY IS FOR ALL THAT! OH! I GET IT NOW!

Thanks, Mom. Happy Mother's Day, for real. I hope you are having a good time in Thailand with Jamie - WHO HAS YOU ALL TO HIMSELF AND HE BETTER APPRECIATE IT!

Morning Cup Of Coffee

It's raining
It's pouring
Today will be boring
Nate's in bed and
Nick is fed
That's all we've done this morning


My father and
My brother
are here without my mother
We don't know what to do
The sky's gray and not blue
We're just talking to each other


I'm not great
At rhyming
Or wording, or timing
but I thought I'd try
and see if I'd get by
in this format... um... this morning.

Which doesn't rhyme. A lot of this was a bit of a stretch, huh? Well, I did this off the top of my head, and it IS the weekend, so please cut me some slack and kudos to me for trying. Not everything is genetic.

MI3

Mission Impossible: to do errands without a total meltdown.

If I do manage to get Nathan in his carseat without crying, remember to pack juice and a snack for Nick... If he doesn't manage to finish his drink within 2 minutes of getting in the car... if I manage to get through to store quickly enough so Nate doesn't have time to get figity and begin crying... If Nick doesn't throw a fit because I won't buy him M&M's... If I can get them back into their carseats without fuss...

If ALL THIS happens, then I know Nick will fall asleep in the car and begin screaming when we get home and I tell him he has to walk to the door because I can't carry him and Nate and the shopping bags.

I guess no photo today. Blogger won't let me.

The Peace Pipe

See this photo of my youngest child? See te green plug in his mouth? We're getting rid of it.

Nick never took to a pacifier, so I've never done this before. Nathan didn't sleep with it all night or anything like that, but he would calm himself with it. He fussed until one of us stuck it in his mouth.

I don't think a pacifier is evil or anything, but three days ago I noticed a little sore in the corner of Nate's little mouth. Like a cold sore, and I thought we should probably loose the pacifiers, at least for a while.

Overall, Nate has been a trooper. He's fine as long as I'm holding him. But last night and today I reached my breaking point. I simply can't spend 45 minutes of every hour nursing him. I can't even hold him that much. So now I must listen to him fuss and cry and do this funny singing thing over the baby monitor. I can't give in. No, really, I can't. I've misplaced all the binkies in the house. Nick probably has them all stashed somewhere.

Wanted: Scuba Gear

It is raining. Again.

Steve is gone tonight on business, which leaves me with the kids. We really are lost without him because I time certain events - like lunch, naps, dinner, and bathtime - around his comings and goings. And when he isn't here to help us out, our daily dance misses a few steps, and I end up feeding the kids an hour earlier than usual, putting them to bed much earlier than usual, and then they wake up earlier than usual, and our day progresses from there.

With the rain, I can't even distract them with the outdoors. I am trying very, very hard not to give in and turn on the TV, as my goal is LESS TV, not MORE. I'm also trying really hard not to steal the chocolate I got for Jamie's next care package, because it's already the 3rd bag of chocolate I got, and it's HIS. I should just go tape the box up right now. It's just that Nick is dancing all over the place. He says "Outside?" then "Daddy?" then "Anne-e Fun?" Over and over again until I start looking on the web for sensory deprivation tanks to ease my raw nerves.

This picture is of Frank, who has now taken over Nate's carrier.

Dishwashing Babe

Our dishwasher is broken.

Last week I noticed that the springs on the door had gone, so that if you opened it the door would fall ALL the way open instead of nicely staying where you put it. You had to lower it all the way each time unless you wanted to risk it falling on your toes, or a child's head, or the dog.

It got that way from Nick climbing on the open door attempting to get INTO the dishwasher and obtain the sharp and pointy knives. Also, there were sip cups in there that he could SEE, but that I kept refusing to give him, because they were empty and dirty and for all I knew covered with mold, but what did I know?

On Saturday I went to open the dishwasher and realized I couldn't. It wasn't stuck, exactly. The handle had broken. The part you usually push up to undo whatever latch is in there had snapped, and there was no way to fix it without opening the dishwasher door... which of course we couldn't do... you see our problem, Dear Liza, Dear Liza?

Eventually Steve took a crowbar and pried it open so that we could get our old dishes out. But now the front of the dishwasher is off, the thing will not open once latched, and the door is actually a leathal weapon in disguise. So I am washing all our dishes by hand until we can get our acts together and purchase a new one. Which better be soon, because we go through 17 sip cups a day, not to mention little parts to bottles, breast pumps, and the 45 dishes that I alone manage to produce each day.

OH - The picture is of my cat, Puck, who is too beatiful to be touched, but who reminds us all of his existance by leaving tufts of white hair EVERYWHERE, especially after the vacuum has been run for longer than 20 seconds.

One Thing and Another

When I come back from grocery shopping I bring everything inside and place it on the floor before putting it away. A couple of weeks ago I turned around and saw that Nick had reached into one of the plastic bags and removed a whole tomato, which he was eating like an apple, just taking bites out of it. So I grabbed the camera.

That's me. We went to the zoo yesterday, but did I remember the camera? No. I did not. But pictures of my kid eating tomatoes? Yes. I have that. Besides, photos of the zoo never turn out right. You always get someone st anding in front of what looks like an empty cage. "Is that a giraffe or a hippo? I can't tell."

I will use this photo as proof of healthy snack-giving. "Look! A tomato! We DO give him more than cookies and chocolate!"

Today is my friend Betsy's birthday.

Beleive it or not, I have spent time with her in places other than her wedding, pictured here (look! me with Betsy! See? I KNOW her! We're TOGETHER!) However, as I was looking through the photos of us together ten years ago... that would be TEN years ago... The only pictures of us together were of a certain trip to Florida, and Betsy, I love you too much to put those pictures on the internet. (NO, she was not naked, you awful people! She simply got a bad sunburn on her face!) So here is a picture of us together at your wedding.

Betsy, Happy Birthday to You! (30! She is 30! Ha ha ha! Now she is a "real" grown up like me) I hope your day is wonderful and that your 30's are as fun and eventful as your 20's... how can they not be? You have Logan.

Weather Control

I have done it! I have discovered the secret to controling the weather! Bwahahahaha!

Apparently, if I hang my laundry to dry outside, it wil remain overcast, and will eventually begin to rain.

If, however, I rush outside and remove my laundry, take it insinde, and put it in my dryer, the rain will stop, and a few rays of sunshine might actually peek through the clouds.

Amazing, isn't it?

Look Closely

This is my favorite picture of Nathan yet! Because it makes me laugh.

It's almost eighty degrees out, so I have no time for you internet people today. Must go enjoy the weather! Ta ta!

An elephant sat on...

Nick says more every day. But there are some words he will not say - some NAMES he will not say. Some he LOVES to say (Anne-e). And others he can't.

Last night, as I was drying him off after bath, I was singing Willaby Wallaby Woo (you know - an elephant sat on you?) And I was going through our names, letting him finish for me. Here's what happened:

Willaby Wallaby Wommy
An elephant sat on... Mommy!
Willaby Wallaby Waddy
An elephant sat on... Daddy!

Willaby Wallaby Wathan
An elephant sat on... Nathan! (he said Nathan, not Nay nay!)
Willaby Wallaby Wicholas
An elephant sat on... Dis. (He hasn't said Nicholas yet - he calls himself "Boy.")

Willaby Wallaby Wanny
An elephant sat on.. Anne-e!
Willaby Wallaby Wemily
An elephant sat on... Fis.

Willaby Wallaby Wamie
An elephant sat on... Inson! (OK, so now I can skip Winston)
Willaby Wallaby Wamma
An elephant sat on... Paw paw! (Grampa)

At this point I stopped because I was giggling too much, and Nick had abviously just started to say people's names and stop rhyming.

Harvard's Mini Me

I have been looking for "school" options for Nicholas. Nothing full time, just two or three days a week so that he can begin getting used to "school" and begin interacting with children his age.

Before he was born we visited one place just around the corner, and I called them and asked for updated information. This morning, we visited another location.

The first thing I did when we got home was take the two information packets, sift through the pages of program descriptions, mission statements, offered activities, and parent references, to find the most important pages of all: The Program Rates. I mean, come on, does it matter if their playground equipment is top of the line if we can't afford to step foot in the playground?

Well... I'm not sure we can afford to step foot in the playground. The place we saw today... the classroom for his age group was rather small. It would include children as young as 14 months - the only requirement is that they be walking. He would need to be potty trained before he could move up to the nursery class. And I still don't know if we could afford the tuition for two days a week.

I'm torn because I really want to give Nicholas the opportunity to interact with other kids. We do have the occasional playgroup, which is great! But seeing kids on a regular basis, and having a routine that is consistant can be valuable, too. Of course, he's still very young, but they grow and develop so quickly... Choices, choices, choices... He cried when we left.

I was wrong

Before I became a parent - about a billion years before I became a parent - I worked with kids in a daycare center. Even before then I began to formulate my ideas about raising kids and what was appropriate, and what I would or would not do as a parent. And I was wrong about some of these things. Actually, I was wrong about many of these things. I'm sure I will be wrong about many more things yet to come, especially when we get to the teenage years, but I can't think that far ahead because I start to hyperventilate.

Here is a list of a few of the things I have been wrong about to date:

- I swore I would never use pull-up diapers. They seemed so annoying and a little bit useless, actually. But recently I realized that they could be pulled up and down, where diapers couldn't. And I am really trying to get Nick excited about using the toilet.
- I was not going to feed my kids candy. It's not like I feed them spun sugar for breakfast, but recently Nick threw a fit when I didn't buy M&M's at the checkout counter, and I realized that I had gotten into a habit which was worse for him than it was for me... no more M&M's.
- I would limit TV time. And I do. It's just that there's much more of it to limit. I need to get better at it, but it's so convenient for when I need to do things like get dressed or write this blog.
- We would play outside as much as we can. Nick would be outside right now, if he could. In the cold, wet rain. Nate would never leave the house, but he has no say. I have a very limited range of tolerance to temperature, and it's usually too hot or too cold to stay out longer than an hour.
- I would not be one of those hysterical parents who called the doctor for every little thing. I am one of those hysterical parents who calls the doctor for every little thing.
- I would not become one of those parents that looses the ability to have a grown up conversation that does not include talking about the cute things my kids do. I recently realized I have nothing to speak to some of my friends about, and a lot of this is because they have no kids stories to swap. If they tell me a story about their date last Saturday, I feel I need something better than "there's a new slide at the park" or "we saw some goats" to reply with.
- I would never be caught outside the house without diapers or a bottle (or juice) or a change of clothes. This happens to me ALL THE TIME.
- I would keep pairs of my kids' socks together in the laundry. Can one defy nature? I think not.
- I would keep up with the laundry so that my little boy wouldn't be forced to wear palid pyjama bottoms with a blue striped shirt out in public. No comment necessary.

A Nose By Any Other Name would Still Smell...

In case you haven't noticed, I have started adding titles to my daily entries. It took me this long to add titles because 1) I cringed at the thought of three consecutive entries entitled "I'm still Pregnant" or "Another sleepless night" and more importantly 2) I had no idea how to get titles to show up. But now I have, and now all who read this will be subjected to titles with obscure references to the content, strange inside jokes I share with no one but myself, and other, plainer, mediocre titles beause some things do not deserve a title.

Nick slept until 7 today, which, just so you know, is pretty much like your every day person sleeping until 10am. I mean, the GLORY of sleping in so late was almost more than I could take. He was awake for about 5 minutes before he threw up. I chalked it up to a fluke and kept going with our day, but he threw up again, AT the breakfast table. So he's sick, which pretty much negates the whole "sleeping an extra hour" thing.

Now we won't be going to Story Time at the library. We won't be leaving the house. We will probably watch a lot of TV. I am stir crazy already.

Hard Day's Night

At 3am Nate woke up (for the second time) and he had just fallen asleep when Nick woke up, catapulted out of his bed, and danced in front of me waving arms crying "up! up!" He's begun waking up crying in the middle of the night. Twice I have taken him into bed with me so that we could all get sleep, and that's why this is my fault.

I rocked him. I rubbed his back. I covered his eyes with my hand so he would close them and counted to a thousand. But every time I got up to leave he would cry, stand up, and wail "room! room!" I thought about it, but decided it would be better to kick this habit as soon as we could.

It was 4:16am. Nick cried and cried and cried. He screamed and screamed and screamed. I took Nate out of the room. I told Nick I loved him. I gave him a billion stuffed animals, I gave him books to read, I gave him water. He screamed. I closed the door to his room. He banged on the door, or the wall. I had to check on him because it sounded like The Crazy Maniac was hacking him to tiny bits, and there I was, pillow over my head, just trying to sleep. What would the headlines be on THAT one? "Mother Thought Murder was Tantrum." He would stop for fifteen or twenty seconds, and then scream loudly and high enough to shatter glass. The cats reacted by running up and down the stairs very loudly and scratching the furniture in the dining room. The dog shuffled and scratched himself and whimpered. I threw some unidentified object at the dog so he would stop moving. At 5:30am Nick finally stopped crying.

Of course Nate was up just before 6am. And despite the fact that he was awake screaming, Nick woke up before 6:30. He was smiling, happy, and didn't look tired AT ALL.

This morning I was so out of it I made a huge, huge pot of coffee so that I could make it through the morning... and didn't realize I had made decaf until well into my second cup.

No Respect

When I read to Nicholas I sometimes let him "read" some of the words to me. Obviously he's not reading, but if I say something like "I do not like Green Eggs and Ham, I do not like them... " he will say "Sam I Am." Or at least "Am AM" which is pretty darn close. If I say "then the baby bird saw a..." and there's a picture of a dog on the page, he will say "Dog." He's pretty smart that way. Plus, we've read these books so many times that he could probably recite them from memory if he had the vocabulary.

The name of the book is "Are You My Mother?" In case you don't know it, or have no imagination whatsoever, it's about a baby bird looking for his mother.

"What is this Snort going to do to me?" said the baby bird. "Where is it taking me? I want to go home! I WANT MY...?"

Nick takes his sip cup out of his mouth just long enough to say "Dada."

Baby Steps

I haven't wanted to post any updates about Nick sleeping in his big bed. Every time I would think about doing it he seemed to take one giant step backwards, and I really didn't want to jinx myself. But I can now report that, most of the time, he goes to bed at night without issue, and I usually have to return to his room and tuck him in three or four times before he settles down for a nap each afternoon. The point is, he DOES finally NAP there.

I am of the opinion that I shouldn't ask too much of my kids. By that I mean, that I want to make sure Nate is comfortable sleeping in the crib before letting him put himself to sleep there, and that Nick is comfortable in his bog boy bed before putting both boys to sleep there at the same time... OH, and that Nick is comfotable with his transition to big boy bed before starting in in the potty training.

I have an issue with potty training. That issue is: impatience. Not Nick's. Mine. I hate things taking a long time. I am famous for my undercooked pasta. I planted seeds two days ago and I'm already upset that nothing's happening. I truly have no idea how I am going to deal with the issue of potty training. But now that Nick is almost 2, given the fact that he is prone to getting rashes, and the fact that he is now learning to undress himself, likes to flush the toilet, and is constantly pointing out his penis, I think it is about time.

I have started this off by giving him a small potty seat for Christmas, and he sometimes sits on it for as much as 10 seconds before begging for paper so he can flush it down. The other day I purchased Bob th Builder pull up pants. I HATE the idea of pull up pants, and I swore over and over I would never use them. But then I became a parent and realized I needed to get Nick excited about potty training SOMEHOW.

So far the biggest roadblock on our trip to diaper-less nirvana is Nick. All the books, the pediatricians, the specialists, EVERYONE, says to wait until the child is ready and willing. But if you ask NIck if he wants to sit onthe potty, he always says NO. He says NO to EVERYTHING, though, including chocolate and playing outside. Then if you don't give it to him anyway, he pitches a fit. So how am I supposed to know if No means No, or if No means "I'm not really listening and I felt like saying something and No seemed like a good thing to say at the time."

And I know that successful potty training depends on Nick's cooperation, understanding, and... well, it's HIS accomplishment, not mine. I think I'm in trouble.

A weighty issue?

Why don't they make clothing that just fits?

It's not just me. I have a really hard time trying to find clothing that fits Nick. Pants come in either 18 or 24 months. The 18 month size stops well above his ankles, giving him a Steve Urkle look. But if I try to put him in the 24 month pants I have to roll the cuffs. They keep falling down anyway because they are too big around the waist. His shirts are either too big, or they make him look like he's auditioning for "A Chorus Line." If both top and bottoms fit, they are probably not going to match.

Nathan has lots of clothes that fit. Nathan's issue is that I'm trying to fit him into as many cute outfits as I can before he grows out of them completely. I can change him 3 times a day for a week and he'd still have enough clothes.

I myself just spend 45 minutes trying to find something to wear. Before getting pregnant I used to wonder where the 6 foot tall 110lb women were, since all the pants I purchased were obviously made for them - too long and tight around the middle. But then I got pregnant and the pants refused to rise above my knees. My body changed that much. And I refuse to purchase new clothing because I DON'T KNOW WHAT MY BODY WILL BE LIKE IN TWO MONTHS. Am I still loosing baby weight? Is this it? Will my body stay this way? No one knows. I have 2 pairs of jeans that fit - and "fit" is a relative term. One pair is tight around the thighs yet exposes my underwear if I kneel or bend over. (hello - I work with kids - this is unavoidable.) If both pairs are dirty, like today, I have a number of drawstring pants my mother gave me that can work, only I tend to have the same underwear-showing problem, and they are almost all capris so I'll be cold, and I can't tell you the last time I shaved my legs I'm really sorry to say it but it's true. Once I have selected pants, I need to find a shirt that is long enough to not show off a bit of my belly, which is still pretty scarred up and stretch marky. My new chest makes all my shirts two inches shorter than they used to be.

For the record, I don't mean to be complaing about weight. That's not my point. My point is that I have nothing to wear. Nothing that fits, anyway. And if it fits, it doesn't match. It really makes me not want to leave the house because I feel so patchworky and thrown together - not in a stylish way, but in a "hey, look, that color blind lady just stole an outfit from the Goodwill Bin" kind of way.

Night of a Thousand Somethings

Steve is away on a business trip this week, which really throws off our whole routine. For one thing, I can't put Nick down for a nap or to bed without hearing him ask for Dada four or five huindred times. Getting up in the morning is the same story. No matter how many times I tell him "Daddy is NOT HERE" he just doesn't get it.

Last night I ended up putting the boys to bed 30 minutes earlier than usual, just because there was no Daddy there to rush around with, to say goodnight to - or for me to talk to, for that matter. I had 30 blissful minutes of freedom where I contemplated the night I had ahead of me and the reading, the working out, the cleaning and organizing I would fill it with.

And that's when it started. Nick woke up crying. I spent 20 minutes listening to him scream, and then 45 minutes putting him back to sleep in his own bed. 20 minutes later Nathan woke up screaming. I fed him and put him back down. But by then I was so cranky I just climbed into bed. Nathan woke up once more, and then at 3am I finally took him into my bed with me - something I never would do if Steve were here because there's not enough room in the bed for the three of us - that Nate takes up more space than you'd think.

At 5am Nicholas woke up screaming and by the time I got to his room he was standing at the baby gate doing that frantic pick-me-up dance and wacing his arms. Desperate for some sleep, I picked him up and took him into my bed, also. For the next hour I tried to sleep as I nursed Nate on one side and Nicholas stared at me on the other.

At 6am when I finally gave up I realized that Nick's diaper had leaked and I needed to change my sheets and do laundry.

Genius Boy

I recently jumped on the Sudoku bandwagon. I couldn't see what the fuss was about... people writing numbers in boxes? Math? How was this fun? But then I tried one... and was immediately hooked.

Nick is fully supportive of my Sudoku phase. In fact, as you can see in this picture, he has started doing the puzzles himself. We're pretty much at the same level, except I'm better at fitting the numbers in the boxes.

We took Nicholas to get a haircut this weekend. We went to FRANK'S in Salem, where Steve has gone in the past. Nick watched his dad get his hair cut, then he sat on his lap for his turn. I tried to get action photos of the actual haircut, but there was too much going on. Nick kept moving his head, and the lady swooped around constantly from one side to the other clipping the ends off Nick's curly baby hair... She even used the razor thingy over his ears.
Nick was incredibly brave. He didn't cry at all. I only cried a little.

Last Week was Easter, and here are some photos. I'm a week late in getting them off my camera.

Nick isn't smiling in these pictures, but trust me when I tell you he really liked the Easter Egg Hunt we set up for him... in fact, he's still walking around with those plastic eggs and putting them in baskets, behind sofa pillows, and anywhere else the "Easter Bunny" might have thought to "hide" them. It's very cute, but I am a bit tired of picking them up and finding them in odd places, not to mention of Nick's fits when I tell him the basket of eggs has to STAY HOME.

Nate's sweater was made by my Aunt Frances - isn't it cute? He only had it on for three minutes before I yanked it off for fear he's spit up all over it...

And finally we have our family photo. It was really hard to get, because Nicholas kept squirming. He's holding a jelly bean, which was the only way we could get him not to scream. But he still wanted to be running around Gramma's house in wild circles, torturing the cat, who is as big as he is and very scary.