Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Things I've learned during my week as a "mom of 2"

This blog is a little premature, as my week with Peanut doesn't end until the 2nd, but I've learned some things while having 2 kids in my care.


First, moms of multiple children must have a hidden supply of wine. I'm serious. If your house sounded like "my" house this week, and you're still sane, you must be drunk! I don't know how *you* do it with more than one kid. This weekend, I woke up not wanting a cup of coffee but craving a glass of wine...at 7am! It's not normal for me to want something besides coffee in the morning. 


Speaking of coffee, I've had no fewer than 3 cups a day, since last week. The fact that I had to sneak a cup before speaking to the kids, just so I don't snap because my internal coffee tank is on 'E', is not something I'm proud of but it was a fact none-the-less. 


The whining....it's CONTAGIOUS?!?!? Nixon's not a big whiner, but he is screechy. I know he can be annoying, but Peanut would whine about something not being exactly what she wanted and Nixon would start whining over her, and about NOTHING! And with whining comes her evil twin sister, pouting! Nixon doesn't pout. He fake cries, which I will say is annoying, but he's not a real pouter. Peanut? She's a professional pouter, right down to the silent treatment when she doesn't get her way. Is it a girl thing??


Not all kids respond to my dry sarcasm, apparently. Nixon will laugh or ignore me. Peanut would try to reason with me, when I'm not being serious, which eventually would lead to the aforementioned pouting. 


No toy is as good as the one someone else has....including drooled on dog toys! Gross, but there were arguments over dog toys.


Someone is always "right", but they don't always accept it or care. 


Singing in the car, or house, might lead to a screaming match in the backseat. Peanut likes to sing. Nixon likes me singing to him. Nixon does not like anyone else singing. Poor Peanut would just start a song and Nixon would be yelling for her to stop. She'd start whining that she was just singing and Nixon would yell louder for her to "Be quiet! Stop singing!". I did eventually get him to ask her politely to stop singing, but I'm sure I fucked up that whole situation. She's a cute singer, Dream Lights commercial being her go-to song of choice this week, and since I sing nonsense songs ALL the time I'm not one to silence any one's singing. But I can not drive safely with 2 kids going to war in the backseat! (How do you teach a child tolerance?)


If you tell a child he can't do something, he wants to do it more. Peanut goes to daycare full-time. Dropping her off meant taking Nixon into the school with us and then forcing him to leave all the cool, "new" to him toys behind, untouched. This....did not go over well. Yes, I do think its time to find a daycare or preschool for Nixon but until we find one we can afford, I'm the mom with the screaming child leaving the daycare in the morning. 


Kids, even accidental temporary siblings, can make you want to pull out your hair one minute and cry the next. Instead of an off/on switch, I'm pretty sure these two have a love/hate switch. From whining and tattling one minute, to hugging and holding each other's hands the next. Amazingly adorable!!


You can't please all the kids some of the time....or is it you please none of the kids all the time? I was not making the right choices, according to one of them most of the time. From dinner choices to who gets to choose a tv show. someone was almost certainly going to be pouting. 




Most importantly, my attention span isn't big enough for 2 kids! I can't focus on multiple voices plus complete another task, at the same time.   


So moms of multiples, I tip my hat to you and humbly say: You are better women than I. I'm doing this gig for a limited time only, you do it full-time! Please, feel free to vent about your kids....I get it now! And I promise, I won't judge you. 

Friday, July 20, 2012

...and then I growled at my child

I love Nixon. Actually, I adore him more than life itself. Most days.

But he has this new and horrible habit of stealing my coffee cup and drinking it when I'm not looking. It's a dangerous habit. Not because I add anything that would be harmful for him, to my coffee but because he's stealing my coffee!

This morning he was doing he usual, sneaky coffee stealing tricks. Until I caught him and took my cup back.
Then he came over, while I was drinking my coffee, and took the cup out of my mouth! OH HELL NO!!!! There are very few times I am speechless.
This was one of them.
I recovered, quickly.
I growled at him! I literally growled at Nixon.
Mac, sitting over at his table, said to Nixon "Nix, don't make mommy growl at you".
I said to Nixon "Nixon, stop stealing my coffee while I'm drinking it! I love you, but I love you more after I've had my coffee."
Nixon says "It not warm mommy"
It's not a good argument. He usually says my coffee is not hot, it's warm and since it's warm he can drink it.

Maybe if he drinks more coffee he'll stop growing so much??? A mom can dream can't she?!?!?

Monday, July 16, 2012

Insomnia induced musings

Do you ever sneak into your child's room, late at night, and sit on the floor next to their bed just watching them sleep? Yeah, me neither.
But for the sake of argument, let's say I am that mom. Do you know what I think about, gazing at the sleeping child smiling in his sleep as I stroke his cheek? I listen to his breathing, his sweet voice murmuring about his dreams. I watch him grasp his teddy bear and curl up on his left side, right leg stretched out with his foot off the bed. I watch his eyelids flutter chasing things unseen to my eyes but what must be vivid  dreams behind those long lashes. I kiss his forehead, stroking his hair, and tell him once, twice, a thousand times "I love you" because the nights I do this are the nights I feel I failed him somehow during the day and didn't tell him those three words enough while he was awake.

I think to myself, sometimes aloud to him, how amazingly perfect my son is. He's the single best thing I've done in my 33 years on this planet and I can't fathom a life without him in it. I sometimes think, gazing at his slumbering form, that he's a dream I'm in and will be gone when I wake up in the morning. I lean over to smell his hair, knowing if it is a dream that's the scent I'll search for forever to hold in my arms again. He's the sun, moon, stars and everything in my universe. And oh how I fear he'll be gone one day. It's an irrational fear, I know, but the nights I need to be there watching him sleep, I'm not rational most times.

I wonder if my parents ever do that. Do they hold tight the memories of my sleeping childhood? Do they, like me, wish things were different somehow?

It's awkward being around my parents. They're almost strangers to me, while other family members are much closer. I see my parents and I can't quite reach them. They're in the same room as me but I'm searching for them still.
I remember my dad used to be my world. Then, something happened and the man I knew and loved and worshiped just disappeared. In his place? An angry, ugly, sad man who couldn't love anything around him and destroyed almost every relationship he had with anyone beyond all repair. The day it happened, the day that loving, kind and caring dad left me, I never thought I'd get over.

I looked for that kind of all consuming love, for decades. It haunted me to want to love like that and I forced myself to overlook flaws, just so I could have that love. It was fake, of course, I realize that now. I lied and pretended so much, that I really believed I'd found it. With a boy. I swore I'd love forever.
Then he left me, leaving behind in his place, a wounded and hurting and spiteful man. Wielding my love for him against me like a boomerang. He'd throw it at me and use it against me to get me to do things for him, forcing me to sacrifice my own goals and dreams to help him further his own, rewarding my sacrifices with insulting words and degrading actions. Still I held on hoping his love would come back. When it didn't....
I ran from him.
I ran from everyone I knew and loved. I needed space to find myself.

I found that love, for real this time. The day I felt my child stir in my womb for the first time. It was my 29th birthday and I was just starting really show the bump of pregnancy. Lying calmly at night, curled up in my husband's arms, I'd felt the first nudging from within. Even better, I got to share it with "Squishy*"'s dad, since he was there with me that exact moment.
The moment all other loves I'd thought I had finally paled in comparison and I realized I was carrying my truest love with me that moment. I love my husband for everything he does and is in my life, but I adore my son!
As crazy as he makes me, with his constant almost mindless tantrums and his insane amount of energy and his lightening quick frustration over the smallest things, I would do anything for him.

My son, my sleeping wonderment of silence, my greatest accomplishment, my reason for wanting to build a home where ever our family goes, my heart, soul and whole being now begins and ends with his smile.

I wonder if, years from now, when he's yelling at me telling me I'm ruining his life, will I still feel this way for him? Will it go away with time or get stronger? Does he have any idea that he really is my most favorite thing in this world? I tell him, he's my favorite, but does he understand that concept?? To have a favorite? He has a favorite teddy bear, but over time he learned we had more than one of them for him. He always knew when he had the original one though. Does he know he's my original love?

Does any of this make sense to anyone else?
Am I rambling because I'm tired or tired because of my ramblings?

*Squishy was the only name we told the family before Nixon was born. We knew the name was going to be met with opinions so to avoid the inevitable name choices being tossed our way, we dubbed baby boy "Squishy". Some people pouted over not knowing the name (Marsha....cough, cough.......) and others fully embraced Squishy. A few people may have even been concerned that Squishy wasn't just a nickname and we were going to somehow actually name our child Squishy on his birth certificate. We didn't because we always knew he'd be our Nixon.

Saturday, July 14, 2012

more silliness from a 3-year old

I swear some days Nixon just amazes me. Every minute of the day he has the potential to make me laugh, cry or both at the same time. 


We watched Ice Age last night. After Mac went to bed. Just the two of us, snuggled on the couch. Nixon LOVES "dinosaurs" as he calls all things Ice Age franchise related. The first one isn't as warm and fuzzy as the movies that follow it. It's got some sad parts. Near the end of the movie, the neanderthals are searching for the baby and Manny shows up with the baby. It's a real tear-jerking scene. Damned thing gets me every time! 
It also got Nixon! In the cutest, most "manly" way ever...
me: Nixon, are you okay? (I see his lip is quivering and eyes are getting shiny)
Nixon: No mommy, its sad! The baby and the daddy are together....it's so....AWWWW!
me: Nixon, it's okay to cry when your happy. I do, a lot.
Nixon: *stiff upper lip* I not sad mommy. The baby and the daddy are together! It's good.
me: Nixon, movies sometimes make you cry and you don't know why. It's because its a good movie, right?
Nixon: Mom, the movie...I not sad over the movie *wipes his eyes because he's got real tears now* I'm sad no Popsicle before bed!
me: You're crying because I said no Popsicle before bed, at the beginning of the movie?!?! Really, Nixon??
Nixon: Popsicles are yummy, mommy. 
me: Yeah, I know. Are you sure your okay? The movie's not over yet.
Nixon: *Diego just appeared on screen* MOM, it's the lion! He came back! AWWWWW....*sniffles* I so happy!
me: Nixon, you are a mess, just like your mom!
Nixon: *kisses my cheek* I know, mommy.


It's amazing that at his age, he's developing empathy enough to cry at the end of a movie and even more amazing is he covers it up with a really silly excuse! I love this kid, I truly do. 
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We're still ass deep in boxes here. Trying to get everything in order because my mother-in-law will more than likely be here for a visit in less than a month. I'm actually really excited for her visit, because I can't wait to see her and Nixon together. He already love her so much! Whenever were on the phone, he says "I talk to Nana now", even if we're not talking to her. Earlier this week, he asked to call her twice! Then he'll walk around the house on the phone blabbing to her about his day. The best part is when he thrusts the phone in the direction of something that he's really excited about and says "See, Nana!??" like she is there with him instead of on the phone! He's so adorable! 


Back to the unpacking.....


Because of the unpacking, things get strewn all over the place. Today, Nixon found one of my bras underneath pillows on the sofa. I'm going to say, possibly from folding laundry, it how it got there. I turn to see him pulling up his shirt, and trying to fasten the bra around his chest. 


me: Nixon, why are you trying to put on my bra?
Nixon: I needs to hide my nipples mommy. 
me: Hide your nipples?
Nixon: Yeah, like you do.


Oy vey! Really, I need to (a) stop getting dressed in front of Nixon or (b) make sure Nixon knows the difference between my nipples and his nipples. He does not need a bra! Hell, let's be honest, I barely need a bra! I totally adore my son! 


He tends to be such a mini-me, in far more ways than I had ever imagined he could be!

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Conversations with my 3-year old


I have some of my most random, ridiculous conversations with Nixon. Mostly because I'm still not working and he's my main companion but also because he's got some insane thought processes going on in that precious little head of his. Well, not so little head, thank goddess he wasn't born with the noggin he's got on him now cause that would have totally ripped me a new one! Instead he was kind enough to come out and leave me with one small stitch. Let's hear it for a considerate boy from that start!! 


Last Friday, Nixon woke up and said he wanted a haircut. I tried to convince Mac it was a now-or-never thing but he said we'll do it the next day, no reason to rush. Such a silly, foolish husband I have. He didn't listen to me and the next day Nixon had moved on to his "no haircut" stance, and stood firm. For the entire weekend he held his stance. Mac went to work Monday and the haircut was presumably forgotten. 


Until yesterday. When this happened:

Nixon (after his nap) : Mommy, my hair is sticky
me: Really? Why? 
Nixon: I have too much hair 
me: Should I take you to get a hair cut 
Nixon: Umm...we need to go in the new green car. 
me: You'll get a haircut if we go in my green car? 
Nixon: Yes, but not the blue car only the green car. 
me: Go get your shoes! 

Guess who made the haircut happen today?? THIS mommy, right here!


I was especially proud of Nixon because he sat in the salon waiting for over 30 minutes before he got into the chair. He played with his cars and read a car magazine with me. By read, I mean counted cars by color on a page. When he did get in the chair, he was awesome. He smiled, giggled and told me all the colors of the razor guards he saw. 

On the ride home he says "mommy, my hair is all gone"
me: yep, it sure is. You were awesome too! I am so proud of you
Nixon: mommy, how do the bzzzz's work (Nixonese for clippers)
me: they move very fast and cut the hair as they go over it
Nixon: No mommy, how do they work?
me: I just told you.
Nixon: No mommy, how does it work?
me: How does what work Nixon? I'm driving and can't see what your showing me.
Nixon: how does my smile work?

seriously?!?!? Where does he get this stuff? Most kids do "why?" my kid does "how does it work".

And finally, in the category of paying way too much attention to what Mac does, we have Nixon coming up behind me in the kitchen yesterday and destroying a woman's (aka his mother's) self-esteem. 
I was wearing my loose and comfy jeans with a tee shirt. My jeans were a little low, because I was in the middle of putting together our bookcase and trying to make dinner. I was at the stove stirring dinner and Nixon walks up behind me. He starts pulling my shirt down over my jeans covering up any exposed skin I had. While he was doing this he was telling me "No, mommy, no no no". NO?? What?!?! Oh yeah, my husband does this all the time, telling me to cover my goodies up. Apparently my waist and back are just so sexy that a small glimpse of them will drive someone crazy.
Either that or the stretchmarks are so disturbing that he feels the need to protect the world from seeing them. He claims it's for my own good, but now with Nixon doing it...I feel ugly and very unattractive about the whole thing. 

Fucked up in such a pretty package eh?!?!

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Raising my son with reality induced honest lessons

  Let's start with, I don't do things to scare Nixon. Rather I do things so he's aware of things that just aren't right and I tell him these things whenever the moment arises. It's also important to mention, Nixon wants every boo boo and owie he gets to be kissed all better by me or sometimes Mac.

Last week Nixon was walking funny and saying his peenie hurt. During his bath, Mac asked me to take a look at Nixon's "junk" because it looked all red. Nixon cried and didn't want anyone looking at it, but Mommy needed to take a look. It looked irritated and was sensitive when I touched it, but a little neosproin overnight and it was better by morning. I did that for 3 days and now he hasn't had another issue.

Before he could even ask I had this conversation with him:

me- Nixon, I know mommy kisses all your owies better, but I won't be kissing this one.
Nixon- No kiss?
me- I'll hug and you kiss your cheek, but your peenie is a place that no one is allowed to kiss. Not even mommy, okay?
Nixon- uhhh.....
me- Nixon, if anyone besides Mommy or Daddy touches your peenie you tell us right away. You're not going to be in trouble. You aren't being naughty, but the person who does it is being very naughty.
Nixon- I pee from my peenie, no kisses it!
me- That's right Nixon! (haha for now that logic with stick, give it 10 years and I bet his feelings change on the subject *sigh*)
Nixon- Mommy my peenie's better, no kisses for it cause that is naughty!
me- Okay, mister!

I'm pretty sure I also mentioned he should avoid strangers in windowless vans, with puppies or who offer candy to him. None of that sank in, I lost him at puppies.

Next lesson?? Less backseat driving. haha (he's got a bad case)