Four more years

So. We had this election here, in case you hadn’t heard. Back in 2008, I was overjoyed that Barack Obama was elected. I had even volunteered for his campaign.

And I still think he’s a good president. Has he accomplished every single thing I ever wanted? Well, clearly not, of course. That would be impossible. But I at least feel like things are moving in the right direction.

But, rather than go into what I think this means for the future of our country and all of that (which I’m sure has been discussed thoroughly on a million other blogs and far more eloquently than I could state it), let me say this on the topic of kids and the election:

This is the first time that Catie has been interested in any type of news or current events. During the last campaign, she was so little – she wasn’t even 2 years old yet – that she really had no clue what was going on. Now she’s in kindergarten where they have mock elections and she wants to ask me questions about why I like Obama more than Romney. (Believe me, trying to explain foreign policy and healthcare and equal rights to a 5 year-old is no easy feat.)

I also realized that I have to be so careful of how I phrase things to her. She asked what a President is and why we have elections, and I explained that while some countries have kings and queens, we have a President who’s in charge, but only for a little while, and then we choose a new one (or we can vote to have the same one twice in a row). Somehow she conflated the idea of royalty being a life sentence with the presidency, and she said, “Why do the people voting for Romney want President Obama to die?” Wait, WHAT?? No, baby, they don’t want him to die. (Well, a few fringe extremists might, but I’m not telling her that.) I tried to explain that NO NO NO, that’s not it at all, it’s just that some people think that Romney would do a better job, but that even if Romney wins, Obama would still be alive, and his wife and their 2 little girls would be fine too.

This morning when she woke up, she asked me who won after she went to sleep, and I told her that Obama won, and she said, “YAY! Because we wanted him to stay our President, right?” That’s right, Bug.

My little tomboy is wearing a dress. This is such a rare occurrence that I felt like I should document it.

She blows my mind, that kid.

I suppose by the time the next election rolls around, I’ll be explaining all of these concepts to Lucy for the first time, and Catie (as an almost-10 year-old) will understand it on a completely different level than she does now.

A little leaf crunching before daycare.

Hard to imagine. But then, looking back at my archives from 2008, I could never imagine Catie as the big kid she is now. I guess that’s just how it works.

Random aside, but since I’m talking about politics, and since 4 states voted for marriage equality last night, it reminded me of this:

Catie used to love to go to Chick-Fil-A. It used to be one of our weekly things that she and I did. I liked that their chicken was actually identifiable as chicken (instead of the chicken mush you get at McD’s and places like that), I loved their diet lemonade, and Catie loved their indoor play areas.

Then there was that whole thing this past summer about how they contribute to several anti-gay causes, and I just couldn’t bring myself to give them more of my money. Catie asked me about it, and I said, “The man who is in charge of Chick-Fil-A thinks that everybody doesn’t deserve to be treated equally, and I don’t believe that. He says that only some people should be allowed to get married, and I think that anyone should be allowed to get married if they love each other. So we aren’t going to go there anymore, or give them anymore of our money, until they stop being mean to people.”

And you know? She totally accepted that, without question. A few weeks later, my dad offered to take her to Chick-Fil-A for lunch, and she said, “No, Pop-Pop, we don’t go to Chick-Fil-A anymore.” And she basically parroted back exactly what I said.

My dad got annoyed, and glared at me and said, “You’re indoctrinating your kids already?”

And you know what? Yes. Yes, I am. And I’m proud of it too. If both of my girls grow up with empathy for others, and feeling passionately that everyone deserves to be treated equally? Then I think I will have done a damn fine job of raising them.

A very dino Halloween

Halloween was especially fun this year, since it was Lucy’s first time getting to trick-or-treat. Technically, she went along last year, but I carried her in the Baby Bjorn the entire time, so that didn’t really count.

I was thinking that since Lucy’s favorite thing in the world right now is the TV show Yo Gabba Gabba, I might dress her up as one of the characters. I was thinking that DJ Lance would’ve been hilarious, and Foofa would’ve worked too. Her favorite character on the show is Muno, but I’m sorry, I can’t bring myself to dress my child up as a character that looks like a giant knobby red dildo. I just can’t. It’s bad enough that she sleeps with a plush version of him, I already worry about what that’s doing to her tiny toddler psyche.

But then, Catie wanted to be a dinosaur (again – this is kind of a recurring theme for her), and she asked if Lucy could be a dinosaur too. And, well, quite honestly, the idea of big and little dinosaurs was too cute for me to pass up.

I didn’t really get good pictures of the two of them together because they were constantly on the move, but…

Catie, my big scary dinosaur:

Catie the dinosaur at the daycare Halloween party

And Lucy, my tiny baby not-scary dinosaur (although she was happy to “ROAR!” for anyone who asked):

Lucy the baby dinosaur. I die.

I mean, are you kidding me I can’t even.

(As for not being able to get pics of them together? This was pretty much the best one I got:

Catie and Lucy, my big & little dinosaurs

See? Impossible!)

We did the Halloween party and parade at daycare, then went to my parents’ house for dinner, before going out trick-or-treating. We decided to trick-or-treat in my parents’ neighborhood, because the houses are on smaller lots, so they’re closer together, and the area is less hilly than my neighborhood, so I figured it’d be easy for the kids to walk it and hit a lot more houses in a lot less time. (I also figured that Lucy wasn’t going to last too long, since one year-olds aren’t exactly famous for their attention spans.)

Overall, really, it was great. Catie is old enough now that she knows the drill of saying “trick or treat!” and “thank you!” at every house. She’s a pro now and was totally easy all night.

Lucy wouldn’t say trick-or-treat, but every time someone gave her candy, she’d wave and say, “bye-bye!” and then blow them a kiss. So, yeah, pretty much the cutest thing ever, and she got a lot of “Awwwwww!”s from other parents.

Catie declared this to be the “Best Halloween EVER!!” Which is funny since that’s also what she said last year, and I’m guessing it’s likely what she’ll say next year.

The kids took a while to come down from their sugar highs and go to sleep, but they’re snuggled in their beds now, probably dreaming about cute little dinosaurs and chocolate.

I think I’ll go join them.

Happy Halloween, everybody.

Saturday at the farm

So, I guess after you do something two years in a row, it officially becomes a “tradition”? It feels like it, anyway. The past couple of years, I’ve taken Catie to this great local farm here. (Last year, I didn’t bring Lucy because she was too little to enjoy it.)

I was thinking that we were going to miss the farm this year because we hadn’t done it yet, and I don’t even know if they’re open after Halloween, and the forecast this weekend looked sketchy at best. (Oh, hi, Hurricane Sandy! Thanks for going a little farther north than us.)

As it turned out, on Saturday afternoon, it was overcast and windy, but there wasn’t any rain, so my mom came over and suggested we take the girls to the farm. I was supposed to meet up with one of my friends and her daughter for a playdate, so I called and asked her if she wanted to go to the farm instead of her house. I think she was relieved to not have to host a playdate at her house, because she jumped on the idea immediately.

Catie impresses me every time she decides that she’s going to “be brave” and try something new. This year, I didn’t have to coax her to climb on the hay bales. She was all over them, and climbed as high as she could go.

Catie on the hay bales at the farm

She stood up there with the wind whipping all around her and shouted that she was queen of the world. It was a very Titanic kind of moment.

She also posed with her friend Morgan for me.

Catie and Morgan at the farm

Is it possible to get a photo of 5 year-olds where they aren’t giving you fake smiles? I’m highly doubtful.

I plopped Lucy about halfway up on the hay bale stack, and she loved it. (I wasn’t too worried about her falling off, because I was within arm’s reach of her, and also there are several inches of hay-padding on the ground.)

Lucy on the hay bales at the farm

(Note the mud on her pants & shoe. If there is a mud puddle anywhere within a mile radius, Lucy will find it and fall in it. I cleaned her up the best I could, then figured the hell with it, she was fine and her clothes were all washable. She didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.)

The pony ride is always Catie’s favorite part of the farm, and this year we thought Lucy might like her first pony ride too. My mom walked beside her to make sure she didn’t fall off, and she LOVED it.

Catie on the pony rides

Lucy's first pony ride (with assistance from Mimi)

Another thing she and her big sister have in common, clearly.

After a couple of hours, the kids were worn out. We stopped at the pumpkin patch to get a pumpkin before we left. I tried to get a picture of the three girls (Catie, Lucy, and Catie’s friend Morgan) next to the pumpkin measuring chart, and this is how the majority of my pictures turned out.

This is basically how most pictures turn out when you have 3 kids in the "5 & under" set.

Yeah.

I finally got this one.

The best group shot I could get.

Fine. That’s as good as it’s going to get.

Oh, about that pumpkin? Here’s my lazy mom shortcut tip: don’t carve the pumpkin. Just draw on a jack-o-lantern face with a Sharpie. It takes 2 minutes and you’re done. Plus, no mess. WIN.

Lazy mom shortcut: we don't carve pumpkins, we draw their faces with a Sharpie. Took 2 minutes. Done.

Overall it was a really fun day. I’m grateful the rain held off until later so we were able to enjoy the farm this year.

more whining about how tired I am

Ok, I can’t leave that last post at the top too long because it’s making me uneasy to have my heart all splayed out like that.

Hey! How are you? Let’s change the subject, shall we?

So, yeah, to follow up on our sleep issues: Lucy is sleeping a little better. I took the advice of… oh hell, I forget, I think a bunch of y’all said it… and I switched the nighttime bottle to just plain ol’ water instead of milk. I think she’s starting to realize that it’s not worth the effort. She’s slept through the night a couple of times, but she still typically wakes up at least once. Which is better than three times a night, so I’ll take it.

Also, I think that maybe Lucy is about to hit another growth spurt, because lately, I pick up the girls from daycare, get home, serve them dinner, Lucy INHALES her food (like, every single thing I put in front of her and then she says “Mo’! Mo’!” while doing the sign for “more”). After dinner, I give the kids their bath, and by the time we finish that, she is usually losing her mind, screaming from exhaustion. She’s been in bed by about 7:30 the last several nights.

This also means she’s wide awake and ready to start her day at 6 a.m. Which, no. Mama is not a fan of this trend.

Oh! And? She’s been napping for like 2 1/2 hours at daycare every day and her teacher says she normally has to wake her up because Lucy wants to sleep longer.

I’m thinking that eating tons and tons of food, plus excessive sleeping, is probably a sign of an upcoming growth spurt, right?

Sigh. Y’all, she already wears 2T pants and 3T shirts. SLOW DOWN, LUCY! It’s not a race, for God’s sake.

Daycare is closed. Having breakfast with my buddy.

All I can say is, thank God I saved all of Catie’s hand-me-downs, or I’d go completely broke trying to keep this child in clothes at the rate she grows.

about The Guy

I keep thinking about things I should write about, and typically I use this blog as a way to sort of write out what’s going on in my head, because it helps me process things if I can put them into words. But lately, there’s only one subject that keeps coming to mind.

The Guy.

I don’t even know where to start with this.

We’ve been seeing each other since March. For a long time, he was just one of a few different guys that I was dating. He was seeing other people too. We both got separated around the same time last year, so neither of us was ready to jump into any serious relationship “thing” right away.

But we sort of kept gravitating back to each other. He’s sweet and kind and smart and funny and geeky and all of those traits that attract me. He brought me flowers on Mother’s Day. He texts me every day without fail (typically many times a day). I can be nerdy or goofy or sarcastic or whatever, and he “gets” me. His kids are a little older than mine (they’re 8 and 5), but they’re close enough that he has a pretty good idea of what my life is like.

He calls me Sweetie.

A couple of months ago, I said something to my mom about how I really liked him. She started getting upset, telling me that I shouldn’t be getting serious about anyone yet, what about the kids, yadda yadda…

Then she said, “I mean, go ahead and have your fun, just don’t fall in love with the guy.”

*blink… blink-blink*

After taking a minute to process that, I said, “Uhhh… Mom? Did you just tell me to go get laid?”

She said, “I can’t believe I said that. Forget that. And don’t you dare blog about it!”

(Sorry, Mom! It was too funny to leave it. I laughed for days about that one.)

[For the record, as far as my mom’s concerns about the kids: he’s met Lucy a couple of times, because she’s so young that I don’t worry about her questioning who this person is or what my connection is to him or how he fits into our lives. He met Catie once for about ten seconds, when he came to the door to pick me up and the girls were with a sitter. He was introduced as “Mommy’s friend,” I didn’t hug or kiss him or even touch him in front of her, and she was so distracted by having the baby-sitter there that I think he barely registered on her radar.]

Anyway, as for me “going and having my fun”… that part? With him? Uh. Well. I try to keep my blog relatively safe in case any family members happen to read it, so let’s just leave it at HOLY FREAKING OMG WOW YOU GUYS.

Ahem. So. Yeah.

I don’t know exactly what it was that triggered it, but it’s starting to sink in that he has become much more than just a guy I’m casually dating. I really, genuinely care about him a lot. This was not supposed to happen, I was not supposed to like somebody this much so soon, but there it is.

And the weird part, is that realizing this – realizing how deep my feelings are for him (and no, I’m not saying the L-word because I just can’t bring myself to go quite there yet) – brought up a whole mess of fears and anxieties that I didn’t even know I had. I was suddenly crying constantly. Which is particularly noteworthy since I normally have a hard time crying. But here I am, closing myself in the bathroom after the kids are asleep so they don’t hear me, and sobbing my eyes out.

I try so hard to live my life with this constant attitude of “no, it’s cool, I’ve got this.” I hate the idea of feeling like a victim. I don’t want to be whiny or needy. So I try to give off this illusion of super competence. Truthfully, I am absolutely terrified of getting hurt again.

And on Monday, when I texted him and said that I was feeling stupidly weepy and emotional? Rather than run for the hills, he texted me back immediately and asked if he could take me to lunch so I could talk. He held my hand across the table while I talked and tried not to cry again.

(I hate crying in public. I find it mortifying. I’d rather fall down, or have a wardrobe malfunction, or accidentally fart or God, just ANYTHING, but don’t make me cry in front of strangers. That’s one level of humiliation I can’t handle.)

After lunch, he walked me to my car and he hugged me and petted my hair for about 5 minutes in the parking lot.

And afterward, I felt so much calmer. I’m not crying anymore. I think I’m almost (dare I say it) happy?

I don’t know what to make of this, y’all. This was so not part of the plan. But I think it’s good.

Still sleepy

So, the big-girl bed transition for Lucy… God. I swear this child is going to be the death of me.

On the upside, she doesn’t climb out of the bed or anything. She goes to bed easily. As long as she has her Yo Gabba Gabba dolls to cuddle with (specifically Muno and Foofa, I don’t know why they’re the chosen ones, but whatever), she settles down and goes to sleep when I put her in the bed.

But she still wakes up at least 2 or 3 times demanding the bottle. She doesn’t climb out of the bed, she just sits up and screams until I come to her. (I’ve started packing a mini-cooler with an ice pack & a couple of bottles to leave in my bedroom, so at least I don’t have to run downstairs to the fridge. Small things, I guess.)

Bedtime prerequisites: bottle & Yo Gabba Gabba dolls.

I took the advice of y’all who suggested an extra bedtime snack. She usually has some fruit before bed (usually blueberries or grapes or whatever fresh fruit I happen to have in the house), but the idea of extra protein hadn’t occurred to me. So I’ve been giving her whatever I can entice her with – leftover rotisserie chicken, bologna, cheese, etc. – and I’ve tried adding more simple carbs (usually Ritz crackers or something similar) to see if maybe it would keep her full longer. So far, it hasn’t helped.

As for co-sleeping, I would TOTALLY let her sleep in the bed with me. It’s a king-size bed and I’m the only one in it, so it’s not like I’m hurting for space. But she cannot seem to sleep with me. One night I tried it, and she squirmed and thrashed around for nearly an hour, then finally she sat up crying and screamed, “Nigh-niiiiiiight!!!” She was exhausted but couldn’t get comfortable in my bed. I said, “You want to go back to Lucy’s bed?” And she said, “Yah!” So I took her back to her bed and she was asleep in about 20 seconds.

To be fair, Lucy has never been a co-sleeper. I wanted her to be. When she was a tiny newborn and Dave was sleeping down the hall in the guest room and I was all alone with her, I desperately wanted her in the bed with me so I wouldn’t feel so lonely and isolated. But she couldn’t sleep there. Every time I moved, it woke her. She couldn’t even sleep in the pack & play next to my bed. She was in her crib in the nursery with an air filter for white noise by the time she was 6 weeks old.

Oh, I also tried taking the girls to the playground after daycare in the evening to see if maybe a little evening fresh air would help her sleep better. Or if, at the very least, she might burn enough energy to really exhaust herself. No luck there either.

As for the bottle issue? Ok. Yes, I know that she’s 16 months old and should be weaned off the bottle now. I know this. Catie was off the bottle by the time she was 14 months old. But with Lucy… no. I don’t have the internal resources to wage that battle. She doesn’t get the bottle during the day at daycare, because they don’t give bottles once the kids move up to the toddler room. And she’s adjusted fine to that. But when I go pick her up, I better have a bottle with me or she is going to FREAK THE EVER-LOVING HELL OUT for the entire drive home.

The bottle is her comfort thing. And you know what? It’s FINE. I don’t care. I don’t have the energy for this fight. I can almost guarantee you that she won’t still be asking for the bottle by the time she’s in elementary school. So for now, I don’t really give a crap about the bottles. She can keep them as long as she wants.

So… yeah. Meanwhile I’m still being woken up multiple times a night and I feel like death.

This too shall pass, right? I mean, eventually? She has to sleep through the night SOMEDAY, doesn’t she? (Please say yes.)