Yesterday W was sitting at the counter with my dad while they were eating lunch. W kept asking for something over and over and I was getting frustrated because I couldn't figure out what he wanted. It sounded like he was saying "Sesson doe coo" (he calls himself Sesson, how cute is that?) Finally out of frustration I took him off his chair put him down so he could so show me what he wanted. The problem was that he couldn't show me what he wanted because as I soon found out, the only thing that he could use to show me was on the counter. So instead he grabbed a pen and said very slooooooowly, "Ses. Son. Doe. Coo." and then it hit me. He was asking for a sudoku puzzle to do, just like my dad. My dad is pretty much obsessed with soduku and does it all the time. W wants nothing more than to be like my dad so it was only natural that he would want to do a puzzle while he was eating too.
Now whenever he eats, he asks for his doe coo puzzles. He sits there with his pen and paper and studies the paper, makes a few marks on it and then takes a bite. Then process is repeated until he gets bored and shoves the pen too close to my eye and insists I draw him a WoodyBuzz Liening MaCeen choo-choo car. Whatever that is.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
identity crisis
When W was about 18 months old, his daddy started reading him Goodnight Gorilla before bed. I never read it to him, because I don't read and certainly don't believe in reading to my children, so I never really looked in the book until one night when my husband was gone and W insisted that I read it to him. As we were flipping through the pages, he was pointing out all of the animals and making the appropriate sounds, most of the time, until we got to the page where all of the animals go into the bedroom. There is a woman on this page and W pointed to the woman and proclaimed her to be "MOMMY!". I was taken aback at first and then thought, "haha, funny. Daddy taught you that woman is Mommy because Mommy is not very pretty when she wakes up and probably looks like her". (this is the best picture I could find of her. You can't see her very well, but you get the point. Lets just say, she's not exactly the best looking woman in the world.) 
So in my postpartum hormonal state, I stewed and cussed at my husband silently for a few days, as W would yell out "MOMMY!" every time we saw her, until my husband came home. As soon as he walked through the door I threw the book at him and asked him why on earth he would be so mean as to make W think that woman looked like mommy. Surely I couldn't be THAT ugly, right? My husband swore up and down that he didn't teach W to say that and he thought I had taught W to say that. So the kid had to have come up with it on his own. I thought that maybe he just thought every woman was mommy, but he didn't do it for anyone else, except for the ugly gorilla woman.
A few weeks after I had forgiven him for thinking I was ugly, we were watching tv, because again, I don't read, and Heidi Klum came on the screen. W screamed out "MOMMY!" again and would do it every time she came back on. I was so So SO happy that he thought she was mommy. That was much better for my ego than him thinking I looked like the gorilla woman, for sure.
I knew deep down that W had to have good taste in women because he's had an insane crush on Heidi since he was like 3 months old, no joke. I was always stoked when the Project Runway reruns would come on because I knew I could get a quick break every time Heidi was on the screen. Once, we had a VS catalog with Heidi on the cover and the kid walked around with it for 3 weeks straight. He would just sit and look at it, so obviously in love. I'm convinced that the gorilla woman = mommy thing was a fluke. Either that, or I just spent WAAAAAAAAAY too much time laying in bed like the gorilla woman and that is where he got that association from.
Just recently, as I have become obsessed with Project Runway again, has W been seeing a lot more of Heidi and has started referring to her as Mommy again. I love that kid. Seriously. Not only does he call her Mommy but he calls every pretty woman he sees Mommy and it makes me smile. I know he does it because it makes me smile (and because I give him a cookie every time he does it) but I'd like to think that he really means it. Since he is so young and impressionable, I will keep reinforcing this delusion, just so I can feel better about myself. Is this what they call brainwashing?
So in my postpartum hormonal state, I stewed and cussed at my husband silently for a few days, as W would yell out "MOMMY!" every time we saw her, until my husband came home. As soon as he walked through the door I threw the book at him and asked him why on earth he would be so mean as to make W think that woman looked like mommy. Surely I couldn't be THAT ugly, right? My husband swore up and down that he didn't teach W to say that and he thought I had taught W to say that. So the kid had to have come up with it on his own. I thought that maybe he just thought every woman was mommy, but he didn't do it for anyone else, except for the ugly gorilla woman.
A few weeks after I had forgiven him for thinking I was ugly, we were watching tv, because again, I don't read, and Heidi Klum came on the screen. W screamed out "MOMMY!" again and would do it every time she came back on. I was so So SO happy that he thought she was mommy. That was much better for my ego than him thinking I looked like the gorilla woman, for sure.
I knew deep down that W had to have good taste in women because he's had an insane crush on Heidi since he was like 3 months old, no joke. I was always stoked when the Project Runway reruns would come on because I knew I could get a quick break every time Heidi was on the screen. Once, we had a VS catalog with Heidi on the cover and the kid walked around with it for 3 weeks straight. He would just sit and look at it, so obviously in love. I'm convinced that the gorilla woman = mommy thing was a fluke. Either that, or I just spent WAAAAAAAAAY too much time laying in bed like the gorilla woman and that is where he got that association from.
Just recently, as I have become obsessed with Project Runway again, has W been seeing a lot more of Heidi and has started referring to her as Mommy again. I love that kid. Seriously. Not only does he call her Mommy but he calls every pretty woman he sees Mommy and it makes me smile. I know he does it because it makes me smile (and because I give him a cookie every time he does it) but I'd like to think that he really means it. Since he is so young and impressionable, I will keep reinforcing this delusion, just so I can feel better about myself. Is this what they call brainwashing?
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Saturday, February 16, 2008
too bad they are all taken...
Yesterday, Valentine's Day, I had to go to town to run my requisite errands. You know, getting the diapers for the baby bums and some kind of fruit snack that doesn't contain any kind of fruit for W to eat because that is the only thing he will eat these days, especially if they are in the shape of Nemo or Dori. Anyway, I wanted to just make a quick trip into the store because CB was screaming, but I quickly realized that wasn't going to be an option.
As soon as we walked in the store, we were in the flower section and it was FULL of men. Like, 20 of them. All walking around with this dazed and confused look on their face. What should I choose? Roses or Carnations? (Go with the roses, dude!) Red or Pink? (If you love her, go with the red. If not, go with the pink... or maybe yellow if you are gonna breakup soon) But, wait, I'm not sure she likes roses, should I go with the lilies? (Only if you plan on using them at your own funeral!) Roses aren't enough, should I get her chocolates or a balloon? (Sigh. Chocolate.) But that balloon plays music. (NO!) She won't think I think she's fat if I get her chocolate, will she? (Well, do you think she's fat?) Maybe I should get chocolates AND a balloon. (Dude, seriously. Skip the balloon. Make her dinner instead.) It was insane. I watched a few guys for a few minutes and they were really struggling. At least they were trying, I give them major props for that.
It was actually pretty sweet and endearing to see all of these guys thinking so hard to figure out what the perfect Valentine's Day gift would be for their sweetheart. Never mind that it was 3:30 on V Day and you know they had all forgotten about the day until they went to work and their women coworkers were complaining about how their husbands and boyfriends had forgotten it was V Day, and then realized they were screwed. If all of these dudes weren't taken, that flower section would have been a perfect place for a single woman to meet a good guy. I think I will tell my single friends to hit up the flower section of the store come Mother's Day because you know it's going to be prime picking! They will be sure to find a kind, lovable guy who loves their mother and treats her well, and what is better than that?
As soon as we walked in the store, we were in the flower section and it was FULL of men. Like, 20 of them. All walking around with this dazed and confused look on their face. What should I choose? Roses or Carnations? (Go with the roses, dude!) Red or Pink? (If you love her, go with the red. If not, go with the pink... or maybe yellow if you are gonna breakup soon) But, wait, I'm not sure she likes roses, should I go with the lilies? (Only if you plan on using them at your own funeral!) Roses aren't enough, should I get her chocolates or a balloon? (Sigh. Chocolate.) But that balloon plays music. (NO!) She won't think I think she's fat if I get her chocolate, will she? (Well, do you think she's fat?) Maybe I should get chocolates AND a balloon. (Dude, seriously. Skip the balloon. Make her dinner instead.) It was insane. I watched a few guys for a few minutes and they were really struggling. At least they were trying, I give them major props for that.
It was actually pretty sweet and endearing to see all of these guys thinking so hard to figure out what the perfect Valentine's Day gift would be for their sweetheart. Never mind that it was 3:30 on V Day and you know they had all forgotten about the day until they went to work and their women coworkers were complaining about how their husbands and boyfriends had forgotten it was V Day, and then realized they were screwed. If all of these dudes weren't taken, that flower section would have been a perfect place for a single woman to meet a good guy. I think I will tell my single friends to hit up the flower section of the store come Mother's Day because you know it's going to be prime picking! They will be sure to find a kind, lovable guy who loves their mother and treats her well, and what is better than that?
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
to my sweet cb
You are now 1. I'm sure everyone is tired of hearing it, but I really cannot believe it has been a year since you came into this world. When you were born, you were the most beautiful baby I had ever seen. And I can get away with saying that because your brother wasn't a beautiful baby; he was handsome, and there is a difference. ((Actually, he looked exactly like a smurf when he was born, but we don't have to tell him that))
You still are the most beautiful baby I have ever seen, even if those jerks in the Gap baby photo contest don't agree. Everyone else thinks you are the most beautiful baby too. We are stopped by random people at least twenty times whenever we are out for them to tell us what a perfect little one you are. I'm beginning to think your mutant power is that you can melt even the coldest hearts with your sweet smile and big eyes. Without much effort, you can make the grumpiest old men coo and coddle over you. It's amazing. I guess I would rather have you melt hearts than walk through walls, so that works for me.
Your dad is worried for your future though. He's scared he isn't going to be able to keep the boys away. I'm pretty sure you will be able to hold your own but he doesn't believe that. He's always talking about his plan to make sure no boy ever touches you. I'm not really sure what that plan is though... I tend to tune out as soon as I hear phrases that contain "M16" and "scare him a little bit". I really don't think you will have any problem fighting the boys away because as sweet as you are, you really do know how to assert yourself and you are very selective about who you let into your life.
You have never had any problem letting me know what you want and don't want. You spent four straight months screaming at me not to feed you certain things. If only I had listened, life would have been so much easier. If I had figured out that you had such food issues earlier, we could have avoided giving you 1.5 mL of 7% alcohol two times a day from the time you were 9 weeks old because we thought you had reflux. That actually could be one of the reasons why your dad worries for your future. You took those meds like a sorority girl taking a shot of tequila and didn't even cry for a chaser. Too bad it didn't even help you sleep better.
I had no idea a baby could live on 6 total hours of sleep in a 24 hour period. I also didn't know that babies existed who wouldn't go 10 waking minutes without crying. You were exhausting, really. It wasn't your fault and I will never blame you, but my goodness! I have no idea how we survived. I really, really don't. They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and that scares the crap out of me. I don't know what is in our future that we need to be stronger for. Those months were the hardest of my entire life and I can't even imagine any more months that could be harder. I don't even want to try to imagine what could be worse than those months.
After I figured out what it was that was bothering you, you became a different baby. I got my sweet little baby back and we got our lives back. I will never forget the first night you slept more than 2 hours at a time. I actually got to dream. I hadn't had a dream in ages because I was never able to get into a deep enough sleep. You always had this sixth sense and would wake up exactly 3 minutes after I would crawl into bed. I'm so glad you have lost that sense. I'm so glad that you will now sleep up to 6 hours at a time. I don't care if you don't sleep through the night yet. You clearly aren't ready to and that is fine. I won't make you or try to force you to.
You do everything in your own time, just like your mama. This is glaringly clear given the fact that you didn't roll over until 2 weeks after you started crawling. I'm glad I know this about you now and can accept it because I think that will help avoid some friction as you grow up. If I ever forget it, I'm sure you will quickly remind me because that is just how you are.
I wouldn't trade you in for anything, even with all the hard times and giving up coffee. You are worth it. You have taught me so much about myself in the past year. I am stronger than I thought I was, I have more willpower than I thought I did, and you have taught me that I am a damn good mother, despite what the "others" say. You make me smile and I love to watch you grow and learn. I look forward to seeing what adventures you bring us in the coming years. I look forward to watching you and your brother grow up together and I look forward to the day that your daddy comes home and you get to know him again. You are a daddy's girl at heart and I know you two are going to be close. Even if he seems a bit crazy, it's because he's crazy over you and only wants the best for his baby girl.
I hope and pray that the next year is better for us and that you continue to get healthy. You are doing better now, but I know everyone would like to see your body catch up with your head. There's nothing really wrong with having your weight be below the 3rd percentile and your head above the 95th percentile, but at some point, it's gonna be a problem. I'm already having a hard time getting your shirts over your head. Good thing summer is coming and you can wear dresses with large neck holes.
You still are the most beautiful baby I have ever seen, even if those jerks in the Gap baby photo contest don't agree. Everyone else thinks you are the most beautiful baby too. We are stopped by random people at least twenty times whenever we are out for them to tell us what a perfect little one you are. I'm beginning to think your mutant power is that you can melt even the coldest hearts with your sweet smile and big eyes. Without much effort, you can make the grumpiest old men coo and coddle over you. It's amazing. I guess I would rather have you melt hearts than walk through walls, so that works for me.
Your dad is worried for your future though. He's scared he isn't going to be able to keep the boys away. I'm pretty sure you will be able to hold your own but he doesn't believe that. He's always talking about his plan to make sure no boy ever touches you. I'm not really sure what that plan is though... I tend to tune out as soon as I hear phrases that contain "M16" and "scare him a little bit". I really don't think you will have any problem fighting the boys away because as sweet as you are, you really do know how to assert yourself and you are very selective about who you let into your life.
You have never had any problem letting me know what you want and don't want. You spent four straight months screaming at me not to feed you certain things. If only I had listened, life would have been so much easier. If I had figured out that you had such food issues earlier, we could have avoided giving you 1.5 mL of 7% alcohol two times a day from the time you were 9 weeks old because we thought you had reflux. That actually could be one of the reasons why your dad worries for your future. You took those meds like a sorority girl taking a shot of tequila and didn't even cry for a chaser. Too bad it didn't even help you sleep better.
I had no idea a baby could live on 6 total hours of sleep in a 24 hour period. I also didn't know that babies existed who wouldn't go 10 waking minutes without crying. You were exhausting, really. It wasn't your fault and I will never blame you, but my goodness! I have no idea how we survived. I really, really don't. They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and that scares the crap out of me. I don't know what is in our future that we need to be stronger for. Those months were the hardest of my entire life and I can't even imagine any more months that could be harder. I don't even want to try to imagine what could be worse than those months.
After I figured out what it was that was bothering you, you became a different baby. I got my sweet little baby back and we got our lives back. I will never forget the first night you slept more than 2 hours at a time. I actually got to dream. I hadn't had a dream in ages because I was never able to get into a deep enough sleep. You always had this sixth sense and would wake up exactly 3 minutes after I would crawl into bed. I'm so glad you have lost that sense. I'm so glad that you will now sleep up to 6 hours at a time. I don't care if you don't sleep through the night yet. You clearly aren't ready to and that is fine. I won't make you or try to force you to.
You do everything in your own time, just like your mama. This is glaringly clear given the fact that you didn't roll over until 2 weeks after you started crawling. I'm glad I know this about you now and can accept it because I think that will help avoid some friction as you grow up. If I ever forget it, I'm sure you will quickly remind me because that is just how you are.
I wouldn't trade you in for anything, even with all the hard times and giving up coffee. You are worth it. You have taught me so much about myself in the past year. I am stronger than I thought I was, I have more willpower than I thought I did, and you have taught me that I am a damn good mother, despite what the "others" say. You make me smile and I love to watch you grow and learn. I look forward to seeing what adventures you bring us in the coming years. I look forward to watching you and your brother grow up together and I look forward to the day that your daddy comes home and you get to know him again. You are a daddy's girl at heart and I know you two are going to be close. Even if he seems a bit crazy, it's because he's crazy over you and only wants the best for his baby girl.
I hope and pray that the next year is better for us and that you continue to get healthy. You are doing better now, but I know everyone would like to see your body catch up with your head. There's nothing really wrong with having your weight be below the 3rd percentile and your head above the 95th percentile, but at some point, it's gonna be a problem. I'm already having a hard time getting your shirts over your head. Good thing summer is coming and you can wear dresses with large neck holes.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
hobbies
The past 2 weeks have been a bit out of sorts due to lots of traveling on my part and the fact that both monsters have been sick and it's been raining non stop. I'm not really one of those uber creative and energetic moms that can take a piece of string, a milk cap and a piece of half ply toilet paper and make something amazing for the kids to play with, I don't do kids songs, and I really don't do many kids shows, so the monsters have gotten a little bored and stir crazy.
Because I'm not into the educational and age appropriate crap, W had to find a good activity so he learned the art of Rock Band, which, let me tell you, is one of the few things on earth that makes me want to gouge my eardrums out with skewers. I would rather shoot myself in the knee and watch it bleed than have to endure listening to the "music" on that "game". As if the music wasn't bad enough, one is then forced to listen to the tap tap tap of the fake drums and/or the tap tap tap of the guitar repeatedly. For Hours. And HOURS. All because your brother feels like he HAS to complete every single song perfectly. Add in the singing part of it as your sister and dad try to match the tone and lyrics, which they don't even know in the first place... listening to drunk karaoke while suffering from double ear infections and a migraine would be more enjoyable. Seriously.
Anyway, W really likes to play Rock Band though. He asks for it all the time. Because the guitar is three times his size, he plays with the little bilingual guitar he got for Christmas. He rocks out just like he's one of those animated freaks on the screen and throws that thing around like a pro. If he had hair, and got into my makeup, he would look like that dude from Quiet Riot, minus the STDs.
He is decent at throwing a guitar but his absolute favorite is playing the drums. If I tell him he gets to play drums, I can get him to do pretty much anything, including getting him out of the bath without protest, without using the sure fire normal bribe of anything that contains sugar and red dye, preferably #40. Scary thing is that the kid actually has decent form and can keep a beat. Maybe one day he will make me rich.
Count us in! 1. 2. 3. 4.
CB on the other hand is a bit too young for the Rock Band. When given a drum stick, she just tries to eat it. So I was really surprised when one day, she got a hold of her brother's markers and paper and started to color. That girl loves to color. She takes it so seriously too. I was fully expecting her to eat the paper like she normally does, and the markers too, but she actually made a beautiful picture that we will send to her daddy, as soon as I get off my lazy butt and get to the post office.
Now whenever she sees the markers and paper, she crawls over to color. She does it when her brother is coloring too. They sit and color and laugh. It's really adorable. Like a scene in a Lifetime movie, but not quite as cheesy. I'm thinking this little hobby of hers is going to be a long term thing because before we went shopping today, she grabbed a marker and would not let go. She held onto that thing for the entire 20 minute car ride, the entire hour we were in Target, the car ride to Costco and then finally let it go when she fell asleep in Costco, about 30 minutes after we got there. Crazy girl. All I can do is thank God that this hobby of hers doesn't make my head pound and ears throb. Plus, if we hone this skill, she could really make me rich! I've seen those kids on Oprah. Have you seen the price people will pay for "art" these days? I'm gonna be able to buy a REAL designer bag instead of risking life and limb to get a good knock off on the Czech black market! And then I will take the rest of the money and build a sound proof room for her brother to play in.
Because I'm not into the educational and age appropriate crap, W had to find a good activity so he learned the art of Rock Band, which, let me tell you, is one of the few things on earth that makes me want to gouge my eardrums out with skewers. I would rather shoot myself in the knee and watch it bleed than have to endure listening to the "music" on that "game". As if the music wasn't bad enough, one is then forced to listen to the tap tap tap of the fake drums and/or the tap tap tap of the guitar repeatedly. For Hours. And HOURS. All because your brother feels like he HAS to complete every single song perfectly. Add in the singing part of it as your sister and dad try to match the tone and lyrics, which they don't even know in the first place... listening to drunk karaoke while suffering from double ear infections and a migraine would be more enjoyable. Seriously.
Anyway, W really likes to play Rock Band though. He asks for it all the time. Because the guitar is three times his size, he plays with the little bilingual guitar he got for Christmas. He rocks out just like he's one of those animated freaks on the screen and throws that thing around like a pro. If he had hair, and got into my makeup, he would look like that dude from Quiet Riot, minus the STDs.
He is decent at throwing a guitar but his absolute favorite is playing the drums. If I tell him he gets to play drums, I can get him to do pretty much anything, including getting him out of the bath without protest, without using the sure fire normal bribe of anything that contains sugar and red dye, preferably #40. Scary thing is that the kid actually has decent form and can keep a beat. Maybe one day he will make me rich.
CB on the other hand is a bit too young for the Rock Band. When given a drum stick, she just tries to eat it. So I was really surprised when one day, she got a hold of her brother's markers and paper and started to color. That girl loves to color. She takes it so seriously too. I was fully expecting her to eat the paper like she normally does, and the markers too, but she actually made a beautiful picture that we will send to her daddy, as soon as I get off my lazy butt and get to the post office.
Now whenever she sees the markers and paper, she crawls over to color. She does it when her brother is coloring too. They sit and color and laugh. It's really adorable. Like a scene in a Lifetime movie, but not quite as cheesy. I'm thinking this little hobby of hers is going to be a long term thing because before we went shopping today, she grabbed a marker and would not let go. She held onto that thing for the entire 20 minute car ride, the entire hour we were in Target, the car ride to Costco and then finally let it go when she fell asleep in Costco, about 30 minutes after we got there. Crazy girl. All I can do is thank God that this hobby of hers doesn't make my head pound and ears throb. Plus, if we hone this skill, she could really make me rich! I've seen those kids on Oprah. Have you seen the price people will pay for "art" these days? I'm gonna be able to buy a REAL designer bag instead of risking life and limb to get a good knock off on the Czech black market! And then I will take the rest of the money and build a sound proof room for her brother to play in.
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