I have often said that I think T is paranoid. I understand where it stems from in his line of work, but I also think he takes it too far. It's taken months of discussion and pleading on my part to convince him that starting a blog about the family wouldn't be a bad thing. When he finally caved, I was so excited. We've talked about my postings and he's enjoyed reading them for the most part.
If you've stopped by in the last few days, you may have noticed that the postings have changed some. T came home and told me that he really didn't like the idea of using names in my posts. I, of course thought immediately that he's just being paranoid, again, but to avoid any type of debate, said okay and made the changes to all previous posts. My only complaint afterward was that it's difficult to distinguish between T and I (me) or T and I (our son). But, the changes were made and I assumed that would be the end of it.
If you're reading this post now, it's because you've gotten my invitation.
Part of the reason I wanted to start a blog is because it's amazing how to network with old friends through the system. From my sister's blog I was able to find blogs from so many people we grew up with. It's like a better, cleaner version of myspace.com. I've enjoyed reading about past friends lives and where they are now and their kids and what they're doing. I was hoping through my own blog I would find more of these friends from growing up, friends from high and college and so forth. Plus, I wanted a place where I could write what was on my mind. Whether it was good, bad, or ugly. I was hoping mostly good, but let's face it, there is usually plenty of bad material you can choose from too.
Either way, T still wasn't happy with the change. He wanted to move the blog into our password protected website, but I really didn't like that idea. It would have required an extra step of logging in every time someone wanted to read the blog, and if by chance, someone was able to network around to find my blog, they wouldn't have access to it.
So this is where we are. I've made the blog invite only, and there is only an additional step once. Which, if you're reading this, means you've already taken that extra step and I appreciate it. If you didn't get an invitation and were new to the blog, you needed to make a request to view it and chances are, again, if you're here, I approved you.
I'm hoping making this change will make T happy and it will be a compromise; anyone who knows the two of us, knows neither of us are great at compromising, but I'm trying here and I hope he'll be willing to meet me halfway. If not, chances are this blog will be a goner because I'm really not a fan of putting it on the website.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
One of my favorite days of the week...
It's easy to understand why most people's favorite day of the week falls on the weekend. No school, work or most other responsibilities. It's typically a time to relax and get ready for another week of To Do's. I love the weekends because T is home from work and we can do things as a family; whether it's chores, running errands, sitting home doing nothing, or the occasional weekend getaway. (Granted, that happened more frequently before we added two kids to our family.) I can even say I love weekends more because T has a three-day weekend every weekend. How great is that? For me, that means an extra day of having someone else help out with the kids so I can grocery shop or run a few errands by myself.
But, I've forgotten how much I enjoy one other day of the week. Thursdays! Yup, Thursdays. I used to hate them. When I was working, Thursday was like a big tease. Close to the end of the week, meaning it's about to be the weekend, but far enough away to know you still had another day of work to get through.
Now, as a SAHM, I love Thursdays. I'm fortunate enough to have a lot of family live nearby. Both my own family, and T's. I love that. In almost two years, we've never had to ask someone outside of family to watch the kids, which is nice because we can leave them knowing they're well taken care of by people who love them.
But an added bonus is T's mom. She has quite a few grandchildren living in the Valley and wants to see them regularly. Last year when I was pregnant with I, Diana offered those of us with kids not yet in school a free afternoon of babysitting each week. I must say, I'm almost sorry I didn't take advantage of it then and there. But, since D was only about 6 months old when I got pregnant, I wasn't ready to give up any time with her. Not even one afternoon a week. I already felt like she wasn't going to get the attention and love that she deserved because we'd be adding a newborn into our family again so quickly. I wanted to make sure I spent every minute with her I could making sure she knew how much I loved her.
So, after Ic was born and T finally went back to work, Diana brought up the offer of babysitting again. This time, with a newborn and a 15-month old, I jumped at the offer. We looked at our schedules and made a standing appointment. Diana would come spend four hours or so every Thursday with the kids so I could do whatever I needed to get done. How lucky am I?
This has been happening since roughly the first of the year, but during the summer, there have been a few weeks here and there that Diana has been traveling and I haven't had my Thursdays off. I know I will get flack for saying this, but do you know how long the week is when all of a sudden you don't get that break? I know, I'm only alone with the kids four days a week, what in the world can I complain about. And I promise, I'm not complaining, it was just a major readjustment to not look forward to Thursdays the way I had in the past.
Well, yesterday Diana was back. All week long I was looking forward to my few precious hours of alone time. I must say though, it's very rare for me to spend these hours alone. And that's why they are so precious to me.
I mentioned that I have a lot of family nearby, so oftentimes my Thursdays are spent with my mom. She comes and meets me at the house and we are able to go to lunch and shop or run errands for the afternoon. I have come to cherish these afternoons and the time spent with my mom and I know I have Diana to thank for offering to take the kids each week. So thank you Diana for your generosity, it means so much to me. And it's now no wonder why Thursdays are my favorite!
But, I've forgotten how much I enjoy one other day of the week. Thursdays! Yup, Thursdays. I used to hate them. When I was working, Thursday was like a big tease. Close to the end of the week, meaning it's about to be the weekend, but far enough away to know you still had another day of work to get through.
Now, as a SAHM, I love Thursdays. I'm fortunate enough to have a lot of family live nearby. Both my own family, and T's. I love that. In almost two years, we've never had to ask someone outside of family to watch the kids, which is nice because we can leave them knowing they're well taken care of by people who love them.
But an added bonus is T's mom. She has quite a few grandchildren living in the Valley and wants to see them regularly. Last year when I was pregnant with I, Diana offered those of us with kids not yet in school a free afternoon of babysitting each week. I must say, I'm almost sorry I didn't take advantage of it then and there. But, since D was only about 6 months old when I got pregnant, I wasn't ready to give up any time with her. Not even one afternoon a week. I already felt like she wasn't going to get the attention and love that she deserved because we'd be adding a newborn into our family again so quickly. I wanted to make sure I spent every minute with her I could making sure she knew how much I loved her.
So, after Ic was born and T finally went back to work, Diana brought up the offer of babysitting again. This time, with a newborn and a 15-month old, I jumped at the offer. We looked at our schedules and made a standing appointment. Diana would come spend four hours or so every Thursday with the kids so I could do whatever I needed to get done. How lucky am I?
This has been happening since roughly the first of the year, but during the summer, there have been a few weeks here and there that Diana has been traveling and I haven't had my Thursdays off. I know I will get flack for saying this, but do you know how long the week is when all of a sudden you don't get that break? I know, I'm only alone with the kids four days a week, what in the world can I complain about. And I promise, I'm not complaining, it was just a major readjustment to not look forward to Thursdays the way I had in the past.
Well, yesterday Diana was back. All week long I was looking forward to my few precious hours of alone time. I must say though, it's very rare for me to spend these hours alone. And that's why they are so precious to me.
I mentioned that I have a lot of family nearby, so oftentimes my Thursdays are spent with my mom. She comes and meets me at the house and we are able to go to lunch and shop or run errands for the afternoon. I have come to cherish these afternoons and the time spent with my mom and I know I have Diana to thank for offering to take the kids each week. So thank you Diana for your generosity, it means so much to me. And it's now no wonder why Thursdays are my favorite!
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
mmm, Ice Cream
Since we stayed at Grandpa and Grandma Bailey's house while in California, T and I had a constant mission to keep D out of trouble. There were so many new things for her to explore that we were always following her around making sure she wasn't touching something she wasn't supposed to. Because of this, T and I tried to keep both the kids happy and occupied as much as possible.
To do this, we decided to let D experience her first ice cream cone. Of course, she's probably been eating ice cream since she was two months old thanks to Grandpa Kreipl, but we figured at 22 months, she could handle her own cone. So we loaded the kids into the car and headed down the hill to the local McDonald's. I certainly didn't know this (why would I) but this particular McDonald's had mini ice cream cones for kids. Mini isn't the right word. Tiny is more apt. This cone would have been a bite and a half for an adult, but it was just perfect for D. Not to small, and just the right size to fit in her hand.
At first she didn't know what to make of this thing. When she finally decided to hold it she put her finger in the ice cream once or twice, then decided to eat it, loving every bite. We couldn't have made this excursion without the camera, and since you've already read how many pictures were taken over the course of this trip, I'll just tell you that about 50 of them were of D eating her ice cream.
To do this, we decided to let D experience her first ice cream cone. Of course, she's probably been eating ice cream since she was two months old thanks to Grandpa Kreipl, but we figured at 22 months, she could handle her own cone. So we loaded the kids into the car and headed down the hill to the local McDonald's. I certainly didn't know this (why would I) but this particular McDonald's had mini ice cream cones for kids. Mini isn't the right word. Tiny is more apt. This cone would have been a bite and a half for an adult, but it was just perfect for D. Not to small, and just the right size to fit in her hand.
The Cone
At first she didn't know what to make of this thing. When she finally decided to hold it she put her finger in the ice cream once or twice, then decided to eat it, loving every bite. We couldn't have made this excursion without the camera, and since you've already read how many pictures were taken over the course of this trip, I'll just tell you that about 50 of them were of D eating her ice cream.
D's first bites
Enjoying every bite.
I getting in on the action too.
All in all, not a bad hour. D's first cone and an ice cream treat for T and I for under $2. Plus, the added bonus of nothing broken at the house.
All clean and all smiles.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Too cutsie??
Apparently my blog is too cutsie. T told me that I'm not being real in my writing. I think he wants me to rant and rave about the frustrations my children can bring into my life each day. I don't really think that's what this blog is for, but I'd be lying if I didn't say T was right too. I need to vent about things occasionally too. So here's my attempt at being real.
My kids do frustrate me. They drive me crazy sometimes. D bites, pulls out her hair, throws multiple temper tantrums for no apparent reason in a matter of minutes and screams and yells and cries. I may bite, and well, that's about all I does. The rest of the time he is smiling and laughing or sucking his thumb or sleeping. I can't complain about that AT ALL!
But even though I have those days that I just want to shut my door and leave them be, or shut them in their cribs and forget they are there for 10 minutes in order to gain back my sanity, I love them to pieces. I wouldn't trade them for anything and their safety is always at the forefront of my mind.
For example, yesterday was one of those days. Both of them were tired, and when that happens they cry and whine and D is more prone to tantrums. I know this, but sometimes it doesn't change the fact that I just don't want to cope.
BUT...
I love them. They come first. Always. When we got home yesterday, Michael (the dog) had gotten into I's trash can full of dirty diapers. Three of them were strewn all over the carpet. (Michael is locked in I's room when we leave the house. That's where his food and water and doggie door is.) Now, on more than one occasion this has happened. A smart person would realize that Michael likes the odor of the dirty diapers, will get into them, and will eventually get in trouble for it, so this person should probably make a change. Apparently we aren't smart people, because here we are with our second child in diapers and still, a trash can with no lid on it. But, of course, it's Michael's fault for getting into the dirty diapers.
Anyways, back to why my kids still come first.
After cleaning up the mess, T sprayed febreeze and lysol all over that room. It was such a strong odor. But what was my first thought, "make sure there is circulation in there while I's sleeping." See? My kids are always at the forefront. I do love them. Even though they make me crazy sometimes. It is so easy to receive a cute look from either one of them to wipe away the memory of the previous tantrum. But it doesn't change the fact that I had to deal with the tantrum too.
It kills me that most moms don't talk about their frustrations. I know that others have to feel this way too. Just because I want or need a break away from my kids DOES NOT make me a bad mom, it makes me human. I would worry if I didn't enjoy a few hours away from my kids. Or if I never wanted to leave them. I need that. I think most moms probably do at some point or another. But, most I don't think are willing to admit it. Not out loud and not for the world to read.
What that makes me, I'm not sure. But I'm hoping T will say it makes me real.
My kids do frustrate me. They drive me crazy sometimes. D bites, pulls out her hair, throws multiple temper tantrums for no apparent reason in a matter of minutes and screams and yells and cries. I may bite, and well, that's about all I does. The rest of the time he is smiling and laughing or sucking his thumb or sleeping. I can't complain about that AT ALL!
But even though I have those days that I just want to shut my door and leave them be, or shut them in their cribs and forget they are there for 10 minutes in order to gain back my sanity, I love them to pieces. I wouldn't trade them for anything and their safety is always at the forefront of my mind.
For example, yesterday was one of those days. Both of them were tired, and when that happens they cry and whine and D is more prone to tantrums. I know this, but sometimes it doesn't change the fact that I just don't want to cope.
BUT...
I love them. They come first. Always. When we got home yesterday, Michael (the dog) had gotten into I's trash can full of dirty diapers. Three of them were strewn all over the carpet. (Michael is locked in I's room when we leave the house. That's where his food and water and doggie door is.) Now, on more than one occasion this has happened. A smart person would realize that Michael likes the odor of the dirty diapers, will get into them, and will eventually get in trouble for it, so this person should probably make a change. Apparently we aren't smart people, because here we are with our second child in diapers and still, a trash can with no lid on it. But, of course, it's Michael's fault for getting into the dirty diapers.
Anyways, back to why my kids still come first.
After cleaning up the mess, T sprayed febreeze and lysol all over that room. It was such a strong odor. But what was my first thought, "make sure there is circulation in there while I's sleeping." See? My kids are always at the forefront. I do love them. Even though they make me crazy sometimes. It is so easy to receive a cute look from either one of them to wipe away the memory of the previous tantrum. But it doesn't change the fact that I had to deal with the tantrum too.
It kills me that most moms don't talk about their frustrations. I know that others have to feel this way too. Just because I want or need a break away from my kids DOES NOT make me a bad mom, it makes me human. I would worry if I didn't enjoy a few hours away from my kids. Or if I never wanted to leave them. I need that. I think most moms probably do at some point or another. But, most I don't think are willing to admit it. Not out loud and not for the world to read.
What that makes me, I'm not sure. But I'm hoping T will say it makes me real.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Razor Sharp
Those are the words I would use to describe my children's teeth. And how would I know, you may ask? I felt them. ALL of them.
Yup, yesterday I was not bit once, not twice, not even three times. I was bit four different times by my precious children. Now, I love my children dearly, but come on, why do you have to bite your mother? I'm the one that feeds you, plays with you, stays home with you all day long. I'm the one that sings to you at night, changes most of your diapers and just keeps you occupied and happy throughout the days. Why must you bite?
I, I can understand. He's just getting his teeth, so he's figuring out what they're all about. My gosh, he only has two. But boy can they cause some damage when I'm feeding him. I can now honestly say I'm glad I couldn't nurse D past the four-month mark. I was done nursing before she even had teeth. I'm thinking I've done my time with I at eight months old. It's about time I cut myself loose. Who knew that two little teeth could cause so much pain?!
As for D, I knew it was bound to happen. This is my 22 month old daughter who bites anything nearby when she's upset. Always has. As soon as she's frustrated she is biting her toys, the table or even her own hands. I was always so sure that she would never bite us. Wrong! I can't even tell you what happened yesterday to make her so upset, but she was on my lap and I apparently did something to set her off because the next thing I know, she's bent her head and bit into my hand. Talk about being stunned.
Anyone ever have similar problems? How do I address this? Should I assume since it happened once it's bound to happen again? Do I now worry about D playing with her brother? Any advice is greatly appreciated.
As it is, I'm just trying to remember that D was just displaying anger and frustration the only way she could. Is that a good approach?
After all, today's expression of anger was ripping at her hair.
Yup, yesterday I was not bit once, not twice, not even three times. I was bit four different times by my precious children. Now, I love my children dearly, but come on, why do you have to bite your mother? I'm the one that feeds you, plays with you, stays home with you all day long. I'm the one that sings to you at night, changes most of your diapers and just keeps you occupied and happy throughout the days. Why must you bite?
I, I can understand. He's just getting his teeth, so he's figuring out what they're all about. My gosh, he only has two. But boy can they cause some damage when I'm feeding him. I can now honestly say I'm glad I couldn't nurse D past the four-month mark. I was done nursing before she even had teeth. I'm thinking I've done my time with I at eight months old. It's about time I cut myself loose. Who knew that two little teeth could cause so much pain?!
As for D, I knew it was bound to happen. This is my 22 month old daughter who bites anything nearby when she's upset. Always has. As soon as she's frustrated she is biting her toys, the table or even her own hands. I was always so sure that she would never bite us. Wrong! I can't even tell you what happened yesterday to make her so upset, but she was on my lap and I apparently did something to set her off because the next thing I know, she's bent her head and bit into my hand. Talk about being stunned.
Anyone ever have similar problems? How do I address this? Should I assume since it happened once it's bound to happen again? Do I now worry about D playing with her brother? Any advice is greatly appreciated.
As it is, I'm just trying to remember that D was just displaying anger and frustration the only way she could. Is that a good approach?
After all, today's expression of anger was ripping at her hair.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Who does that?
We went to California for three and a half days. We drove over Saturday and drove home Tuesday. Not a long trip, just a long weekend. We saw family and went to the zoo. That's it. Nothing else. Just family and the zoo. Any idea how many pictures were taken over the course of those 80 hours???
536.
In just over three days we took 536 pictures of our kids seeing great-grandparents and spending time at the zoo. What normal parent does that?
Instead of showing you all 536, or even half of them, here are a few of my favorites:
536.
In just over three days we took 536 pictures of our kids seeing great-grandparents and spending time at the zoo. What normal parent does that?
Instead of showing you all 536, or even half of them, here are a few of my favorites:
D blowing bubbles
A family photo in front of the zoo
T and I
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Our Two Year Old Coke Addict
Yes, you read that correctly. We believe our two-year old is addicted to Coke. Coca-Cola that is. T is a big fan, and often I am too. I try to be good and drink water, but sometimes you just want the caffeine.
While in California this weekend, T drove through a fast food restaurant to get himself something to drink for the road. As soon as his Coke was in the cup holder and the straw inserted, we hear the most pathetic whine from the backseat. We turn around and D is pointing at the cup and whining, "Coke, Coooke." How awful. Not even two and she already knows what Coke is.
I'm just grateful that the whining stopped when I gave her the sippy cup with water. I'm hoping she was just thirsty and not already feeding a Coke habit.
While in California this weekend, T drove through a fast food restaurant to get himself something to drink for the road. As soon as his Coke was in the cup holder and the straw inserted, we hear the most pathetic whine from the backseat. We turn around and D is pointing at the cup and whining, "Coke, Coooke." How awful. Not even two and she already knows what Coke is.
I'm just grateful that the whining stopped when I gave her the sippy cup with water. I'm hoping she was just thirsty and not already feeding a Coke habit.
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