Just pee already!

It would probably be more enjoyable for all of us to have a sweet update on baby Jedi, how he is deliciously fat, smiley and fitting in with our family very well.

Buuuuuuut.....instead I'm going to tell you about how Gizmo makes me see red, and how the toddler stage sucks, and how I hate it so hard.

Gizmo has been potty training for a few weeks now. Really, he is pretty good at it. I haven't had to do hardly anything. That's the best kind of potty training. (Moms, my advice to you is: if you try potty training, and you are putting in more work than your toddler, then stop and try again in a few more weeks or months!)

We only very rarely have accidents. Of course, I am still doing diapers when we go out for over an hour. And, of course, the only accidents we do have include a horrible mess to clean up (like peeing on my couch, or pants full of crap).

Recently, we started putting Gizmo to bed in his underwear. It started as a mistake. But when he woke up dry and was able to get to the potty to pee, we figured we'd try it more often.

But this morning, Gizmo refused to pee on the potty. I let it slide for a bit, and went ahead and served him breakfast. After his food was gone, I asked him again to go potty. He refused. So I told him that he would be grounded from the tv until he peed in the potty. But rather than deciding it would be a good idea to pee in the potty afterall, he decided to throw a tantrum.

Now, I am not a patient mother. I am a big time yeller. And when a toddler flops all over me in an irrational meltdown, especially while I'm trying to nurse a baby, I get especially ragey.

After about 20 minutes, I had almost completely lost my cool. I was able to lay Jedi down (asleep, by some miracle) and I carried Gizmo to the bathroom, stripped his pants off, and perched him on the toilet seat. (His preferred method of eliminating is squatted with his feet on the seat.) And still, he refused to pee. He climbed down, and I put him back. I told him that he could not leave the bathroom until he peed.

We fought and fought and apparently I was losing, because the kid wasn't peeing in the potty. So I started yelling.

"WHY WON'T YOU JUST PEE ALREADY!?! IF YOU WANT TO GO PLAY! ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS PEE IN THE POTTY!!! WHY DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT!?!?"

And then, over an hour after waking up and holding it in, Gizmo lost control of his bladder. But he wasn't all the way on the toilet. And he still didn't want to be peeing. So he got pee everywhere. The floor, the toilet seat, his legs, his feet, his shirt, and his hands...grasping himself in a desperate attempt to defy the command to pee in the potty.

And then I lost it all over again, because there is no rational reason for that mess to have happened, and I was going to have to clean it all up. Toddlers are always irrational.

The socks

This past Saturday, the Hubs took Bug and Gizmo out shopping. I spent a glorious morning cleaning the kitchen....and sitting on the couch browsing Facebook on my tablet. When they got home, Hubby made lunch, and then took the kids out AGAIN (despite the drizzly, cold day) to have an "adventure" out in the trees behind our house. Apparently, they looked at holes in the ground and built a lean-to.

When all the boys were back in the house, Gizmo took off his shoes and socks. He is really good at putting his shoes away, and his socks into the dirty laundry hamper (which is through the kitchen, in the laundry room).

Off Gizmo went to take care of his socks, when all the sudden I hear him crying dramatically in the kitchen. He came into the living room and settled onto my lap in a ball of tears.

"What's wrong!!!???" I asked, "Are you hurt?"

"No...."

"What happened? Why are you crying? Are you sad about something?"

"Yeah. My socks!" it was kind of hard to understand what he was saying, through all the tears.

"You're sad?"

"My socks"

"Your socks??"

"Yeah!" more crying.

"What happened to your socks? Did you put them in the laundry?"

"No. My socks in garbage!" even more crying. Really, very dramatic, very sad crying.

"You threw your socks in the garbage?" I'm beginning to understand, and I am amused.

"Yeeeeah." another breakdown of tears.

So Gizmo had accidentally put his socks in the garbage, instead of the laundry. And he was very upset about it. Especially since the trash had been taken out recently and he couldn't reach the socks on his own, to move them to the laundry. I'm sorry to say I burst out laughing once I understood what happened. Poor kid.

I tried to console Gizmo as I asked Hubby to retrieve the socks. Once Gizmo knew that his socks had been safely moved to their proper location, he calmed down pretty quickly. And with a sniffly, quivering voice, he said "thank you" to his father, for saving his socks.

Gizmo Update

Ok....second post within the week. I'm getting better already!

I felt like I should do a series of updates on each of the boys, since my last post was all about me and my whiny pregnancies. (Seriously, the hubs told me that I focused on everything that has been going wrong. To which I say, "Well, duh! That's what happens when you combine depression with the first half of pregnancy, and put it all on a blog with the word 'lamentations' in the title!" But, I'll try to do a little better now.)

I chose to do Gizmo first, because he's going to be the poor, poor middle child soon.

Gizmo turned 2 back in August. OOOOH.....two! He reminds me a lot of Bug at the same age, mainly because he also likes to run around naked-butt. You'd think potty training would be going better. Oh well. He often strips himself. Then he will actually put his clothes in the hamper...diaper and all, sometimes. Just a couple of weeks ago, I missed a diaper while sorting the clothes for washing, and it ended up in the machine. Of course, I had no idea until I opened the lid and found that all my clothes had magically turned into high-tech water crystals! Luckily, my parents were in town visiting, and my mom was able to help me laugh about the whole thing. I'm sure that if I had found that mess alone, I would have crumpled into a sobbing heap of misery on the floor. We shook out all the clothes, making a huge mess. Put all the clothes in the dryer. Ran an empty wash cycle to clear out the washing machine. Cleaned up the floor (made jokes about diaper filling snowballs). Then I'm pretty sure we had hot chocolate. And I didn't rewash that load....it came out of the dryer looking just fine. I'm a lazy mom.

Gizmo's vocabulary has just exploded in the past few months! He and Bug always have adorable little conversations....you know, before they end up fighting. Gizmo is constantly asking "Why, Mommy?" Which turns into the verbal equivalent of a Matryoshka doll, with me answering each "why" and having him again ask "why".

"Please get off the counter, Gizmo."
"Why, Mommy?"
"Because, you always grab a knife when you're up there, and I don't want you to have a knife!"
"Why, Mommy?"
"Because, knives are sharp. And I don't want you to hurt yourself."
"Why, Mommy?"
"Because, I love you, and it would make me sad to see you get hurt. [Plus, I don't want to have to take care of any ridiculously self-inflicted wounds!]"
"Why, Mommy?"
"Ugh....just....BECAUSE!"
"Why, Mommy?"

Obviously, he is just helping me develop my logic skills.

Blessedly, Gizmo has started sleeping in his own bed throughout the whole night! We had a few setbacks, with the usual winter illnesses running their courses. And he always seems to wake up between 6-7am, which stinks. But at least he isn't digging his feet into my thighs anymore. And I'm getting a nice break before sharing with the new baby in a few months!

Gizmo is pretty physical, stubborn, and has a bit of a violent streak. I don't know whether to blame that on him being a redhead...or him being a toddler. Gizmo hits, pinches, scratches, bites, spits and kicks. Bug wasn't nearly so bad. Of course, Bug didn't have to compete with a brother, so that might have something to do with it. It's distressing, as a parent, though! I hope he doesn't act as poorly during disagreements in the church nursery as he does at home!

Regardless of his bad behavior, Gizmo can be a pretty cool kid! He plays video games better than I do. And he likes to sing and dance. Plus, he is sooo daggone cute. And he definitely uses that to his advantage...the little stinker!

Seriously. A tangent post.

For some reason, my blog has seriously taken the back burner in my life. And when I say back burner, I mean the back burner on some stove in someone's possibly abandoned house that I've never been to before. I've been turning into a ravenous crafter of late (and spending most of my online time perusing Etsy for ideas or Ravelry for patterns). I'm definitely more likely to have a crochet project in my lap than a new post idea in my head. Maybe because it's much more brainless? And I really feel like this stage of parenting has totally decimated my thinking powers. Some of the things I've had running through my mind lately have been: Why do toddlers like to eat crayons? And how do I get a specific one to stop? And speaking of eating and stopping, how do I get this toddler to stop biting? And how am I going to piece that reconstructed shirt dress together? And how do I get my kids to play nicely? And should I take a nap today? And how do I keep this crazy toddler from getting into everything and climbing onto everything and whining about everything and begging to nurse 24/7 and messing up everything that I clean withing .02 seconds of me cleaning it?

As you can see, I have a lot of questions about how to have the perfect toddler. And by perfect toddler, I mean a responsible adult in a toddler body.

Basically, the toddler stage is by far my least favorite of the stages I have encountered. (I'm sure people will tell me that teenagers are worse, but in my particular stage of life, I really don't know if I can accept that.) I think having a toddler is harder because I also have a preschooler who still acts like a toddler sometimes....and hasn't quite figured out how to play nicely.

And speaking of preschool, some of my friends from church and I have put together a joy school for our preschool aged children. We meet once a week at our church building and we take turns teaching about letters, numbers, shapes, colors, and various other topics. It's pretty exciting that Bug is old enough for this type of stuff! And I really love being so involved!

Shortly after celebrating Gizmo's first birthday, we cut his hair. It was a sad and difficult thing for me to do. I loved his curls so much! But, everyone was calling him a girl, and the hubby didn't appreciate that. So he said the curls had to go. The really sad thing, though, is that people still call Gizmo a girl...even without the curls. I guess he's just pretty.

And speaking of pretty, we let Bug pick out his own Wii remote (because he's learning how to play Mario, and that's awesome and fun) and he chose a pink one. There's actually something that I really love about having a boy who has the favorite color of pink!

Bug is really growing up! He reminds me all the time. ("Mom. Me big, right?") I am thrilled that he is totally potty trained. He sits in a booster seat in the car (and even buckles his own seat belt sometimes!) But he is turning into a total drama....king? He fake laughs. He fake whines. He fake cries. And he exaggerates practically everything. (His coloring isn't right...."OOooooohhhh man!!!! I haaate that!!!") I've started having to remind him that if something frustrates him, then he needs to put it down and walk away. He isn't very good at remembering that, though. If the hubs talks to him, when he was talking to me, he says, "Don't talk to me! I talking to mommy!" Or if he goes to the bathroom (usually when he's pooping) and I ask him -anything- he will yell, "DON'T TALK TO ME!" Like I said. Drama.

And Gizmo is growing up. Or at least climbing up. He climbs on EVERYTHING. Bookshelves, kitchen cabinets, bathroom drawers, computer desk, beds, tables, chairs. He is either a monkey, or he has sticky tree frog pads on his hands and feet, because he climbs onto things I had no idea he could. His balance is impeccable! And my nerves are always on edge.

So....that's what's up right now....and now I need to go crochet some more.

On the move. On the table.

Bug and Gizmo are very different, but at times, so very alike. Bug was....is....very physically active. And hyperactive. Gizmo seems to be just as physically active as Bug, but he is so much more mellow about it. Or maybe just quieter about it? I can't really tell. It just seems that his physical milestones are less in-your-face than Bug's were....in a different way than the "Oh, he's just the second one, so you don't notice as much" kind of way.

Gizmo started walking withing the past two weeks or so. It started out with just two or three steps in between over enthusiastic family members. Then he started taking more steps, moving from the couch to a toy in the middle of the room.

Now he can walk quite a bit without grabbing onto anything. And he stands up on his own, too.

Of course, if you notice him and give him praise, he gets really excited....which apparently shuts off his balance completely. Then he will stand up, fall, stand up, fall, stand up, take two steps, fall...all while flapping his arms with joy and grinning like a maniac.

This morning, while I was making a pie, I head Bug sternly telling Gizmo, "No Gizmo! No climbing! My water!!!" I turned around and Gizmo was ON THE TABLE!!!! Our kitchen table. Apparently, he had used a stuffed animal as a stepping stool onto a chair that was pushed out, and then from the chair climbed onto the table. And he was about to dump Bug's cup of water everywhere, right before I intervened.

I have to admit, I was shocked to see Gizmo up there. He isn't even 11 months yet (just 5 more days for that), and he climbed onto our table! Without me noticing until he was up there! I actually shut him out of the bathroom this morning while I took my shower....I'm just beginning to realize that might have been an unwise decision. I guess I'll have to start making sure chairs are all pushed in before I leave Gizmo to play by himself for longer than 2 minutes! But then I'm sure he'll find something else dangerous to climb on!

Bug sings the ABCs

Bug has been learning his ABCs. And he loves to sing them. Except....he's really not that great at it. It usually goes something like this:

"A, B, S, 9, 10, 18, a wunney, A, B, S, O, P, orange, X, Y, Z....."

Over and over and over again. I haven't quite figured out how his alphabet seems to have WAY more letters in it than mine does (and it also has way more numbers, colors, and made up words that resemble real words). Sometimes he starts out singing "Twinkle, twinkle little star" and it turns into his alphabet. Which, you can't blame him for that, since it's the same melody. It's actually all unbearably cute, though. So cute that my little sister recorded it on her phone for her ring tone.

I just have to keep telling myself that someday, he will be a genius and all this hassle of learning numbers, letters, shapes, colors, animals, etc. will get sorted out!

Thank you for everything! And you're welcome, too!

My two year old is growing up. In fact, he's almost three.

And he is showing that he is growing up. Last week, he asked to help change Gizmo's poopy diaper. (And, remember, we know that when Bug says, "I hep you!" it really means, "Let me do it!") It was quite funny to watch Bug trying to wipe the baby's butt clean.

He also has started saying prayers. All by himself!! Ok...well, I do have to prompt him a little bit, after he's gone on and on and on saying the same things. ("Thank you. Thank you. Welcome. Thank you. Blue's Clues. Thank you. Play. Thank you."  "You need to bless the food." "Food. Thank you.")

The first prayer he said by himself, he kept pausing after every word, wanting me to repeat it. I don't know if that is because that's how we taught him how to pray. Or if he wanted to make sure that I actually understood what he was saying.

Bug is also learning how to count on his fingers. He has been (kind of) counting to 10 for several months now. ("One, two, three, eight, nine, two"). But now he is learning to hold up his fingers. And...just weeks before his third birthday, we taught him how to hold up two fingers and tell people his age. Usually, when people ask him what his name is, he'll hold up his fingers and say, "TWO!".

Hopefully, if we make a big deal about his birthday, he'll transition easily to holding up three fingers!

Oon Arteeest!

On Sunday, we had a friend over with her kids. These kids are crazy when they are together. Fighting, jumping, wrestling, chasing, playing. Most of the time, we just sat on the couch and laughed. But, the rest of the time, we were chasing kids around trying to keep them out of trouble.

We had to contend with dinner....you know...getting the right kids to eat the right food off of the right plate.

We had to lock doors.

We had to fish a whole roll of toilet paper out of the toilet. (And when I say "We" on this part, I mean the Hubby.)

We had to remove toys.

And just when you think they are settled down and being quiet.....(this is when seasoned parents know something is up)....you find them using marker to practice their art skills on the walls.

And doors.

And window.

And bed.

And glider.

And toy bins.

And their bodies.

I had to laugh when I saw it. Of course, you have to laugh at disaster sometimes. So, we got out the rags and soap and those supposedly wonderful Magic Erasers. We were able to get most of the marker off of the doors and window. We don't really care about the marker on everything else....except the wall. And that's exactly where we -couldn't- get the marker off.

The walls in our apartment have exactly -0.01% gloss in them. My father-in-law says that makes it easier to paint them after tenants move out...which they are required by law to do, I guess. I say it is so that the walls soak up everything and are impossible to clean. And that means little bits of our security deposit are being manipulated away by the glossiness-less of our wall. But, whatever.

So, because our walls are flat as flat can be, nothing we did took that marker off. Sure, it faded a bit. And smudged around a bit. And that Magic Eraser was able to remove a fine layer of paint. But the marker scribbles are definitely still there.

At least it was in the kid's room.

Food on the Floor

I'm going to blame the lack of blogging lately on the fact that my computer is hooked up to our TV right now. You know, so we can watch hours and hours of "Psych" on Netflix instant download. It's hard to type up posts when you aren't sitting at a computer desk. (In fact, I'm sitting at the table, typing this up, and I'm not even looking at the computer screen...er...the TV screen. I'm sure this post is going to need extensive editing!)

I really don't know what I'm going to blame the lack of vacuuming on right now. I have no excuses. But, as I'm sitting at the kitchen table, I'm painfully aware of the large amount of stale food under Bug's chair. Really, it's disgusting. I just want to know why he has to drop such large amounts of food on the floor.

Yet...during lunch today, I had a bit of a humbling experience, when it comes to food on the floor. I was eating a meal that I just invented, that I will call "Taco Mess". Not quite a soup, not quite a casserole. Anyway, I was asking Bug why he kept dropping beans on the floor (he won't tell me), and all the sudden, a piece of corn rolled off my fork and onto the floor. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't have happened if I wasn't so worried about Gizmo. You see, Gizmo was strapped onto my chest in the ring sling, fast asleep. I didn't want to drop food on his head. And I didn't want to bump his back into the edge of the table, so I was having a bit of a hard time getting the food from my plate to my mouth. And then it happened. I dropped food on the floor.

Now, Bug doesn't have to eat his food with a baby strapped to him, but I imagine he still stits there sometimes, wondering how the heck he is going to get the food from his plate to his mouth without making a mess. Sometimes it workks, sometimes it doesn't.

After most meals, I stick Bug in the shower...and vow to vacuum "today"....which may mean "next week". How long will it be before I can move to only vacuuming once a month?? Or, better yet, once a year!

How to put on your shoes

This past Friday, I was getting myself and the boys ready to walk to a friend's house to play for a bit. We were all dressed and ready, except for shoes. I needed to sit down and nurse Gizmo right before we left, so I told Bug to get his shoes and put them on his feet.

Bug got his shoes out of the closet, plopped down and tried putting them on his feet. He usually doesn't have any issues putting his own shoes on, but he was struggling. I called from my seat on the couch that he needed to put -that- shoe on the -other- foot. He obeyed.

But, he was still struggling. I finally noticed (from my seat on the couch), that the tongue of the shoe was scrunched up. I told Bug, "You need to pull the tongue out!"

Now, before we go further, I must explain, I have told him this before. I have showed him what it meant, and explained how it helped his foot go into the shoe more easily. This is not a new concept.

So....back to where we were...I told him, "You need to pull the tongue out!"

And he stuck his tongue out. And just happened to get his shoe on at the same time! He looked so pleased that it actually worked. I laughed. A lot.

Then we went through the EXACT SAME THING with the other shoe. Bug really things that sticking -his- tongue out helps get his shoe on!

And, once again, I laughed. A lot.

Gizmo's First Hickey

I know babies are often referred to as being "cute enough to eat" or "delicious" or "yummy" or some other good-food analogy. But, it is extremely important that these things aren't taken literally.

Many parents, also, like to play games with their young children by giving them "munchy" kisses and saying that they will "eat you up!" and the like. But, it is extremely important that these things aren't taken literally.

And toddlers shouldn't attempt to play these games with babies.

Bug has recently been "tasting" Gizmo by taking huge, sucking "bites" out of his arm (followed by some dramatic lip smacking and "mmm"-ing.) It started out as just little "bites" and licks. Then, all the sudden, I noticed that Gizmo has THREE hickies on his arm!!!

I've informed Bug that this kind of play is inappropriate. I hope he understands. But, I know it will be hard, because babies really are so tasty!

Brothers

I have to admit...I really hoped that our second child would be a girl. But when my hubby announced that we had another boy, all that hoping didn't matter any more. I was in love. Totally outnumbered. But in love! I immediately thought how wonderful it is that we don't have to buy a bunch of new clothes. And then I thought how wonderful it is that our boys can be best buds growing up. Not that a daughter couldn't be best buds with Bug...but I think the bond will be different as brothers.

I'm already seeing some brotherly bonding going on in our home. Bug LOVES to give Gizmo kisses. Especially on his nose. Bug loves to hold Gizmo's hand. And he loves to tell him it's "uh-day" (aka, "OK") when Gizmo is crying.

Last week, while I was doing the dishes, Bug was picking out a movie to watch (which, he does all by himself all the time...Mr. Independent). He decided on a DVD and marched right over to Gizmo, who was lying on the couch. Bug then held the DVD right in front of Gizmo's face and said, "Day? Yeah!" ("Ok? Yeah!") Then, he put the movie in and watched it.

I couldn't stop smiling thinking about how awesome it would be if they always get along so well!

Declawing...revisited

Life as a stay-at-home mom can be very repetitive. Oh, don't get me wrong. I absolutely love being able to stay home and raise my family. But, sometimes I don't even know what day of the week it is. It's almost always the same: wake up, breakfast, dishes, laundry, lunch, vacuum, dishes, clean [a room], laundry, change a diaper, shower, dinner, bedtime. Over and over and over.

And those little fingernails keep growing. No matter how many times I clip them, I have to do it again and again. Clipping fingernails is torture. TORTURE. For both me and the kiddo. When Bug was little, people would tell me to just clip his nails once he was asleep. To which I would say, "ARE YOU FREAKING CRAZY!?!? Do you know how long it took me to get him to sleep!?!?" Bug was a pretty light sleeper. I know that he would have woken right up on the first clip if I had tried to declaw him while he slept.

So we did this.

Now that Bug is older, the rolling and punching and kicking is worse. And it hurts more. But, those nails still need to be clipped. And now Bug has -words- to put along with getting his nails clipped. "It hur's!" he whines, "It hur's!!!!"

Can you believe it? This kid apparently has nerves in his fingernails.

Rocking horse

My dad made Bug a rocking horse for his second birthday (per my request). Bug LOVES it. He rides like the wind at least once a day. My dad was tickled to find that similar horses sell online for anywhere between $200-$500!! Not including the cost of the tools he took to build it, which he already owned, the horse cost him less than $40 to make. And I'm tickled that I didn't have to pay a single thing for the lovely horse! It is definitely nice to have family with special talents!

But, apparently, Bug didn't like the ears on the horse. First, he bit the tips of the ears off, (they were made from a sturdy foam-like material). Then, he eventually tore them completely off! (We need to get some scrap leather to replace them...just another item on the "to do" list!)

And he has colored on the horse's back...with both pen AND blue highlighter.

And, even though my dad took precautions in his design to prevent tipping, Bug rides the horse to the limit. If he gains one more pound, I'm sure the horse will tip forward!

I guess until Bug needs stitches in his head, I'll keep enjoying the horse along with him! Yee-Haw! Or...as Bug says, "AAAAHHHH-HAAAAA!"

Pwned!

Apparently, I have a "look" that I give Bug when he is being bad. It's kind of a sideways glance with scowling eyes.

Well, Bug has perfected that look, himself. And every now and then, if the hubs and I are doing something bad (i.e., telling Bug to stop doing something that he doesn't want to stop doing), Bug will give us the look.

Sometimes he will give us the look AND shush us...with his finger pointed either at us or at his mouth...at the same time!

Sometimes, when I'm yelling (or I prefer to say "sternly reprimanding") at Bug for something, if he is close enough, he will put his hand over my mouth to get me to be quiet. Or he'll shush me.

He seems to shush me a lot.

My Little Helper

I actually like vacuuming. I just don't do it very often. Probably because I have to rearrange the whole house just to vacuum. I -must- move everything and vacuum underneath it....except the really big stuff...like the couch.

I don't like it when my husband vacuums. Which is probably why he doesn't do it very often. He just goes around what is on the floor, and rarely moves anything. Except maybe the toys. Yeah, he usually cleans up the toys first.

But, living with a toddler means you HAVE to vacuum at least, oh, I'd say at least once a month. Or every two weeks, I guess. In the meantime, there can be quite the accumulation of dried -er- food...items, underneath the toddler's high chair.

I have found that the best way to take care of this problem in between regularly scheduled vacuuming, is to have a toddler (which, is obviously taken care of, or you wouldn't have this problem in the first place) and a hand held vacuum cleaner.

All you do is give the toddler the vacuum, direct him to underneath the table, and tell him to suck up all the "yuckies". If he doesn't seem interested (unlikely), offer to give him some yummy juice, if he sucks up all the "yuckies".

Works like a charm!

Grow up...today.

I can't believe how big Bug is getting. I find myself staring at him all the time wondering where my little baby went, and where this little boy came from. It might be part of those pregnancy hormones. And realizing that I'm going to have two kids pretty soon! Of course, everyone always says that they "grow so fast". There is a reason that saying is cliche! It's so true! My dad told me that once he got married time started speeding up. And every year, time passes a little bit faster. He says he blinks once and twenty years have gone by. Time hasn't started going THAT fast for me...yet. But I am amazed at how quickly it has been passing since I got married!

This is the summer of major changes for Bug. I almost feel like I am letting him grow up too fast. I worry that he isn't ready, even when he shows signs of being ready.

Major change number one: weaning. It was a surprisingly easy process. I think I was more unprepared for weaning than Bug!

Major change number two: moving to his own bed. This process has only just begun. So far, so good. I just hope he doesn't get too jealous when the new baby gets to sleep with mom and dad. (And, we've almost had to start all over again, because we let Bug sleep with us a lot while we were in Texas, and a lot since we've gotten back home. Surprisingly, however, Bug did NOT sleep with us -every- night while we were in Texas. Slow and steady wins the race, right?)

Major change number three: potty training. We haven't started this one yet. Although Bug loves to sit on the potty, and will pee in the potty without any extra encouragement from me. I really need to just train myself to teach Bug how to go potty, and how to tell me when he needs to go. I'm putting it off, but I know it will need to be done this summer.

Major change number four: becoming a brother. This is just the cherry on top! All these changes, and suddenly, Bug isn't going to be the only kid vying for attention from mom and dad. Jealousy. Anger. Violence. I worry about all those things that might happen. My grandma used to tell stories of when my mom brought me home from the hospital. My older sister was 18 months, and she thought that mom had brought her home a doll to play with. I hope it works that way with the new baby and Bug. I would rather him think that the baby is for him, than for him to think that the new baby is replacing him!!!

Those four things are MAJOR! Are they not? I mean, for a two year old! I just hope he doesn't regress when the baby comes. I worry, as any parent might, whether I am doing the right thing at the right time for my child. This parenting thing is really emotional!

To Texas. And home again.

Well, we are back from our trip to Dallas (as of Saturday night) and I am starting to get back into the swing of things. Meaning, our dishes need to be done, the carpet needs a good vacuuming, and I'm sitting in front of the computer while Bug eats mushy Cheerios.

Let me just share with you a little of how our week went in that great state of Texas.

First, we had the drive down there. It was 16 hours long. 16 hours. We left at 4am, EST, to get down there at a reasonable hour. Bug was AMAZING. I can't believe he handled the drive so well. We stopped every two to three hours to walk around, eat, and take potty breaks. Bug entertained himself in the car by throwing Goldfish at mommy and daddy in the front seats. Luckily, daddy decided it was more funny than something to get upset about, and calmed the mommy before she could threaten to turn the car around!

Bug also entertained himself by putting his blanket over his head. He would then call out "MOMMY! DADDY! MOMMY! DADDY!" until we replied, "Where is Bug? Where on earth could Bug be? I don't know where Bug is?"...you get the point. Then, Bug would uncover his head and yell, "Ah-da!" which is his form of "Ta-da!" And mommy and daddy would both have to say, "THERE he is!" And then the game would start over again. And again.

16 hours.

While the Hubs went to his training (remember, this was a business trip for him that I tagged along on, and not a family vacation) I tried to not go insane. Luckily, I have a cousin that lived only 40 minutes away from our hotel. So, I hung out with her and her family a lot. She has two young boys close in age to Bug, and she is expecting her third....it was nice to know I wasn't the only pregnant woman suffering in the heat of Texas!

My cousin took us to her local pool, that has a GREAT kid area. I had to fight Bug to get him covered in sunscreen, and then to even get him in the water at first. But, once he found out that it was actually fun, I could hardly get him to slow down enough to pull up his swim trunks. And boy oh boy, did I have to keep an eye on those swim trunks. I have a scrawny little kid, and pretty much the only thing keeping the trunks on his little booty was the liner! I really should have just let him run around in the swim diaper. And when it was time to go, Bug wished it wasn't. And frankly, I wished it wasn't either, just so I wouldn't have to fight with him. I secretly wished we could have stayed there, cool in the water, until Bug passed out from exhaustion. That would have been nice.

We also went to a petting farm. It wasn't all that spectacular, but it was free. And they had a turkey that was a big hit with the kids, for some unknown reason. And a cute little bunny, that Bug insisted needed a handful of bedding on its back. Poor little bunny.

It was so hot that day at the petting farm. You know, not being in water. I was sweating so badly, and I got a prickly heat rash under my ample pregnant-woman bosoms. Lovely. And then my husband told me that he would love to live in Texas...and I couldn't convey to him just how uncomfortable I was.

But, the trip wasn't total misery, exactly. Because I got to go swimming again. And again. And again. I don't think my swimming suit every properly dried out the whole time I was down there. Most of the time (like at the hotel pool, that didn't have a "kid" area) Bug sat next to the pool and put his feet in the water. Then he commanded me to swim to the other side, or to go "unner" the water. And one time...just once...the baby within pushed just right on my bladder, and I realized I had about .02 seconds before I couldn't contain it...and...well....we don't necessarily have to finish that story. But come on! Pregnant woman in pool + toddler that doesn't want to leave pool + not enough time to get to the proper facilities even without a toddler that would scream and resist the whole way = I guess you're welcome to come swim in my toilet.

Near the end of the week, we got to go out to dinner with the Hubs' new boss (by the way, the Hubby got a promotion, and it goes public today, so I'm gushing on the blog about it) and some other work friends. We went to Pappadeaux Seafood Restaurant. Bug ate some alligator and loved it so much, he threw a fit when it was gone. Too bad it was the appetizer for the whole table. And I ate crawfish etouffee (my first time eating crawfish and etouffee, which I've wanted to try since the first time I saw the movie The Princess and the Frog). By the way, it is 10 times more embarrassing to have your kid throw a fit when you are in the company of your husband's employers and they are the ones paying for the meal.

All in all, it was a pretty good week. Although, I did have to eat pizza four different times. (I remembered to bring Tums, so I guess it wasn't so bad!) And the trip back home went much the same as the trip down. "Where on earth could Bug be?"

16 hours.

Bug-isms

[All posts this week have been scheduled. I am on "vacation" (accompanying my husband on a business trip) right now in the Dallas, TX area. Probably dying of heat. I will, hopefully, blog all about the trip when we get back. Including the insanely long drive, the insanely hot heat, the insanely boring days, etc.]

Life gets infinitely more exciting with a toddler when that toddler starts to talk. Or at least tries to talk. Back in March, I did a post about Bug's expanding vocabulary. He is definitely improving. Here are some more of the things that Bug says now:

"Da da do?" -Where did it go? Usually said while playing a game. But often said after he is caught with something he shouldn't have. If mommy tells him to "give it to mommy", he hides it behind his back and asks, "da da do?" Too bad mommy is smarter than that!

"Na na no." -I don't know. If we ask him where something is, he will either go get it, or just plain tell us that he has no idea!

"Yeah!" -self explanatory, a form of "yes", but oh-so-cute coming from a two year old. We usually prompt him with a question that will get an enthusiastic "yeah!" answer, to get him to stop a tantrum. As his grandma said recently, "Boy, that kid can turn it on and off quickly!" To which we reply, "Yeah!"

"Doctor" -lobster, seen in the tank at the grocery store. This makes me wonder if he will end up calling doctors lobsters?

"Buh-buh-bubble" -bubble...nearly always said with a stutter! If he doesn't want to take a shower, I ask him instead if he wants to play with bubbles. What two year old can resist?

"Dars" -Cars, the movie. This is Bug's favorite movie. And while I am completely exhausted from my pregnancy, he gets to watch it quite often. (Shame on mommy!)

"Douche" -shoes. I promise. I think Bug has some form of dyslexia of speech. He tends to swap the hard sounds of words, or end his word with the most prominent sound of the word he is trying to say. It definitely makes for some pretty humorous mess ups!

Oh, my achin' pelvis!

How horrible is it that I didn't write anything about Mother's Day, on this blog that is all about being a mother?? So, a whole week later, I did want to mention a little bit about my Mother's Day. The Saturday before, the Hubs took me out on a date. We walked around a large mall, and ate at our favorite Mexican restaurant (where I actually tried to speak confidently in Spanish, and made myself look like an idiot...and the hubby wonders why I rarely try...) The dawn of Mother's Day came peeking through our bedroom blinds. I kept my eyes closed and laid on the bed in a drowsy half sleep. I heard Bug squirming beside me. Then, I felt two little fingers grasp my old mascara and sleep encrusted eyelashes and pull one eye open. "Boo!" said Bug, once my eye was open enough that he could see me in there. There really is little better than a "good morning" from a two year old!

I also got a comment from a friend at church, on Mother's Day, that I was looking "so big"! Apparently, I officially, undeniably, unquestionably look pregnant. Another friend overheard the "so big" comment and later said to me, "I don't think you are getting big." I told her that it was ok if I was getting big...because I'm pregnant, and I'm -supposed- to be getting big! She said, "Yeah, I know. But you don't have to say it that way. It just sounds bad." I asked her if people should instead say, "My, my, you are looking very pregnant today!" And I think that works.

And while we are on the topic of pregnancy (like I ever talk about anything else, right hubby?) I have diagnosed myself with Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction (much to the hubby's exasperation, right hubby?). Some people think that I [over]diagnose myself with minor annoyances just to get out of doing my squats to prepare for birth. Not true. I honestly have a horrible pain in my pubic ligaments! ESPECIALLY when I roll over in bed. And even when I am just walking around like normal. I probably irritate it by climbing over the gate to get in and out of my kitchen 15 million times a day! This is one thing that I didn't have to deal with during my first pregnancy. A friend of mine assured me that all the real aches and pains show up in the second pregnancy.

My poor husband. He is such a guy. You know how guys are...they want to fix everything. And they think there should be or actually is a solution to everything. This makes voicing pregnancy complaints annoying for both of us (maybe I should just keep my mouth shut, for both of us....but then I wouldn't be a woman!). He says, "Do this and it will probably go away." I say, "No way am I going to do that, because it will make it worse!" I'm telling ya, you can't fight Relaxin!