true mom confessions

1. one handed typing as bobo is sleeping on a very uncomfortably reclined me right now.
2. i love both of my kids dearly. mr. hard-to-nap and mr. hard-to-nap-revisited or Chuckles and Bobo as they are also known (hey I am two handed typing now, hope Bobo doesn't move much). But oh man, this is exhausting.
3. I am not an intuitive mother and i have no idea how to learn to be one (definition of intuitive probably means I can't learn how to do it, huh?). Example: Bobo is crying. I have no idea why. None. So I look at my chart (must have a chart) and see how long it's been since he ate. 2 hours, is that long enough to be hungry again? How about diaper? Maybe tired? Bored, cold? I have no idea. I just scroll through things until he stops screaming or daddy comes home. I was the same with Chuckles. This is why I believe in schedules (or at least routine). If it's time to eat, feed them, time to nap, put them to sleep, etc. Otherwise, you're on your own.
4. I think I love Chuckles more. But not really. I just know him better. Does that make sense?
5. Sometimes, I put blankets on the baby.
6. Sometimes, I let Bobo sleep on his stomach (on my lap of shoulder as in right now).
7. I'm not working, I send my older kid to school part-time and I just called the cleaning lady to get that going again. Am I lazy? Are my standards too high (and trust me, my housekeeping standards are fairly low)? Am I just trying to do too much? Am I inefficient? Do I like sleep too much and others are foregoing that to keep their balls in the air?
8. I only made two kinds of Christmass cookies (but hey, they're from scratch and I involved the pre-schooler in the making so it took twice as long).
9. I got my husband the lamest Christmas gifts ever BUT he didn't get me anything (I bought stuff for me and told him he had to wrap it himself).
10. Baby elf ear is clearing up and becoming normal ear. I am sad. My last baby ever is growing up.

sub-part E: freaky things I do in bed

• rhymes with hecks did happen and it wasn't terrible. after a 5-month hiatus, I was nervous that it would be unpleasant, but it wasn't. Must get IUD soon.
• I slept on my stomach. after a 5-month hiatus from that (maybe more), I was nervous that it would also be unpleasant, and it was. A little. My knockers are a wee bit sore what with the constant attention they receive from Baby Elf Ear, and laying on them was not doing them any favors.
• Lay on my back and try on my regular jeans. Cannot even get them past mid-thigh to see whether I can zip them. Maybe next year.

Outnumbered

I am so outnumbered. And in over my head.

Do you want to know who asks for help out with their groceries? THe answer is me. ANd the elderly. Actually, I don't ask for the help. I must look totally overwhelmed because people keep offering. Even at the stores that don't typically offer that service (think Aldi). And in totally not me fashion, I am accepting the help. I need it. Two kids, 10 pounds of clemtines, 16 pounds of milk, an extra-large bottle of vodka (I swear, it's a Christmas present), a jumbo pack of diapers, and I needed the help. The baby bucket car seat carrier took up the whole basket. Big kid in the seat (which couldn't go all the way back because of the car seat in the basket) and all the groceries on the rack/shelf underneath. Good times.

What's the deal with the Nicole Kidman/Chanel commercials?

Here's a story.
Of a lovely lady....

Bobo was happily nursing as is his habit. Also as his habit, food in made poop come out. I finished nursing him and headed up to the changing table. I got to the bottom step and heard Lisa The Cat start to puke. I set Bobo down in his little chair and I relocated Lisa from the carpet to the tile to facilitate clean up. I picked Bobo up again and started up the steps. I got to the second step and heard Chuckles in the kitchen say that he was wet. I asked why. He spilled his milk. Now, I know I only put a half ounce of milk in the cup, so it couldn't be that bad. I set Bobo back in his little chair. Chuckles was soaked. I have no idea how. I cleaned the floor, table, the place between the table where things go to become sticky, the booster seat, the chair under the booster. THen I realize Chuckles's clothes were soaked. He was stripped naked in the kitchen because he was that wet. I sent him to his room to get clothes. I picked up Bobo and plopped him in his crib while I tended to Chuckles. I got Chuckles dressed, went in and changed Bobo's still-poopy diaper. As long as I was upstairs, I brushed my teeth. Got both kids and headed back downstairs. I cleaned up the cake puke which was quite easy to clean off of the tile. Chuckles asked for lunch as it was now 11:00. I obliged. I heard Bobo deposit poop in his diaper again. Didn't I just change him? Yes I did, but he'd been sitting in it for a half hour. Bobo was changed. Time to feed him again. I just get Bobo settled to eat (which is quite a production what with the pillows and the repetitive stress injury I have from my nursing position). Chuckles needs milk since he spilled his earlier and the cup and remaining milk were set in the sink. I can't get it for him. I told him to wait. He decides to get it himself. There is nothing I can do. He pulls a chair over to the cupboard, gets a cup, gets the milk out of the fridge, climbs up on the chair and pours it into his cup. He replaces the milk in the fridge. Success. Success. Milk has been acquired and I didn't have to do anything. Woo Hoo. I count this day as one for the "Good" column.

The Sights of the Season

Hi. My name is Bobo and my mother dresses me funny.
From my head to my toes, she dresses me funny. I will so get even with her later.

But I am cute.

And this is a picture that could have been good if Bobo had been into the baby photo shoot, which he was not.

Nasty elves at work...

Look, it must be Italian. It's Fragile (pronounced frah-gee-lay)...

Gratuitous Santa photo. Note children not screaming, so that's good. One chld is sleeping and that is just fine with me.

I told you I was going to the 25th anniversary of A Christmas Story at the Indiana Welcome Center. I went. The Santa was nice but the kids did dismount via red twisty slide (only one of my kids did the slide and he would not wait for me to get my camera out).

Where were you at 3am?

I was being pooped upon. No harm, no foul.

I wrote a song. It's set to the tune of that Christmas ditty about the kid who needs front teeth. It goes like this:
All I want for Christmas is a Full Night's Sleep
A Full Night's Sleep
A Full Night's Sleep
All I want for Christmas is a Full Night's Sleep
So I can wish you Merry Christmas
And mean it

So, that's where I am. I found two places with free photos with Santa for tomorrow. Am not looking forward to waiting in a line but one of the places has the Actual Macy's Window Displays from the movie A Christmas Story (you know, you'll shoot your eye out). It's the 25th anniversary of that movie and it was set in Hammond, IN which is super duper close to where we live so it seems like it might be cute. And I want a Red Ryder bee-bee gun this year.

I have noticed a recurring theme around blog-land and in real life at the library where I saw actual real people with actual real children. The theme is that when your second child arrives, you first child watches more tv . Now this is no scientific study or anything, but I know of 6 people who will say this is true. I concur. The only thing I can say is I hope in a few months (maybe 3, since I keep my expectations low) I won't be using the TV as much as I am right now. And the pacifier. I hope I won't be using the pacifier quite so much.

I am starting a new paragraph but other than that I have no way to transition to this next topic, so don't get whiplash as we move about quickly. I really enjoy the mailman coming because it gets me out of the front door and feels like my only link to the outside world. Pathetic yes, yet it's my reality.

I do not think I will be baking 9 varieties of Christmas cookies. I must make my pecan sandies/snowballs. I'd like to make oatmeal cranberry cookies since I am the only one who makes them. And I'd like to make cut out sugar cookies but I just don't know whether I have it in me. It would require cleaning the kitchen both before and after and I just don't think I can. Maybe only two varieties of cookies this year. Will keep you posted.

900 posts

I have 900 posts inside my head but since Blogger doesn't read minds, I actually have to find the time to type the post into the computer. Very inefficient.

By the numbers:

• 5 - number of tubes of petroleum jelly we have already consumed on Bobo (really, that's a lot of grease!)
• 200 - approximate number of diapers already changed (possibly more, often in quick succession)
• 8, broken - number of hours of sleep I got last night but not restful
• 9 - approximate weight, in pounds, of Bobo
• A jillion - approximate size, in comparison, of Chuckles when playing rambunctiously near Bobo
• 15 - pounds I still need to lose
• 3 - number of reasons I won't lose those pounds (Christmas cookies, hot chocolate, and an appetite that does. not. shut. off, ever. And also whipped cream in a can.)
• 36/38E - Nursing bra size I am using, although I suspect it is wrong. 38C is definitely wrong (too small!).
• 3-6months - size of clothes my 3-week old baby wears (it's a length issue)

I feel pretty good. The doctor gave me the go-ahead to normalize my life. Cleaning and exercising are still strictly forbidden. Doc said exercising, I added cleaning for good measure. I anticipate that rhymes with hecks will resume in a week or so, if I ever stop bleeding. Rhymes with Hecks has been gone for so long (4 months, 5, who knows?) that I wonder if I'll remember how.

I have taken both children out of the house by myself. I have cooked and bathed - just not all in the same day. My husband was off work for almost 3 weeks and when he went back, everything exploded and he's been working long and odd hours since. This has annoyed me to no end, but bolstered my confidence in my ability to have two kids and do OK by myself. We'll see whether confidence or annoyance wins long-term.

I (ridiculously) hosted Thanksgiving and a party the Sunday after. Paper plates were enjoyed by all, I hope. My husband deep-fried a turkey. I am attempting to get out of attending the holiday festivities with my extended family. It's just too much for one day. But I know I'll get flak because everyone wants to see the new baby. Must stand ground. Ugh. Can't I hire someone to do this for me?