Chuckles got his first 6-year molar and has another wiggly tooth up front (and the new tooth has already erupted behind it). There are big happenings in his mouth. I sense braces in our future. Are those expensive?
Bobo is (basically) potty-trained. I took a big box of diapers back to Target (wrong size, regardless and I have another big box still at home) and traded those size 5 diapers in on teeny weeny, tiny hiney diapers. Those up to 10-pounds diapers are awfully tiny. And so cute. And so little. And I bet they’re soft too since I got the really expensive* ones (not that cardboard sandpaper I had been making Bobo wear since he turned 3). But, I haven’t opened them yet because I do not invite the jinx into my home. I am far too smart and superstitious for that.
I have officially now declared myself all better from whatever the heck that was that laid me out like that. I was sleeping 11-12 hours a day, could not stand for more than 6 minutes, and was unable to walk more than about 200 feet without feeling like I would pass out. It took almost 4 weeks to recover. I had no fever and no other symptoms. I thought I might have just had easy pregnancies before and this is why some women don’t like being pregnant, but I recovered, so I am guessing there was something unusual going on. I was too weak most days after going to work and getting the kids in pajamas and off to bed that I hadn’t checked my email in weeks and hadn’t sent out thank you notes for Christmas gifts (if you know me, you know how horrible I felt about the no thank-yous). I couldn’t even stand up for showers. I sat for my showers (and then needed help getting up and out of the tub). But I am better now. Whew.
Mr. Long-Suffering, while picking up my slack and worrying about me, did remark that when I don’t leave the house (and am too tired and weak to sit at the computer), I don’t spend much money. He figured the good people at Discover Card would be calling to find out if I’m alright. On the upside, we did finally get groceries purchased and I made some really exciting purchases at Target (like tiny hiney diapers and stain remover! And toothpaste, deodorant, and a new Libman Wonder Mop mop head!). I have very little brand loyalty, but my Target list was very specific (Nads, Resolve, Totally Toddler stain remover (which they didn’t have so I bought Dreft stain spray), Libman mop head, and 20-Mule Team Borax). It’s the little things, apparently.
We took the kids to the Sibling Class at the hospital. The movie had been updated since we took Chuckles before Bobo was born (and a good thing too since I could have been the little kid in that movie..and now the movie has PIRATES. Everybody loves pirates.). Both kids enjoyed it, but they displayed their entirely different personalities. Chuckles sat back and observed the entire thing in a most detached fashion. Bobo jumped in when asked about whether there had been any changes at your house (his answer: “I got a new big boy bed that used to be Chuckles’s. Now I share a room wif my brudder. Mike the Painter came and painted my new room. Chuckles got a new bed. And I got a binky hook and a night light.”). One of the families in the class is expecting twins. Kids have no filter. Older son: “When my dad found out we were having two babies he was really shocked!” We all laughed, because yes, that is probably true. Then, he went on to detail all the changes that are happening at their house (lots of painting and organizing…possibly a small amount of panicking).
I know that my boys share a Y chromosome, but I am pretty sure they got all the opposite chromosomes for the other 45. They are so different. One has sandy blond hair, the other has white blond, one is fair-skinned, the other is more medium-to-olive, one has blue eyes, the other has green (though they used to be a crystal clear blue), one has narrow feet with toes that can be bent over to make a fist, the other has wide feet with toes that are all mashed together and don’t bend, one has a chin dimple, the other does not but has a cheek dimple, one has hair that tends toward wavy when it gets long, the other has the straight hair of his mother, one is outgoing, the other is more reserved, one eats veggies, fruit and carbs, the other is strictly meat, beef, and sausage, one is cautious and the other is not-so-much. I figure when they’re older and do things together, the outgoing one will make sure they have fun, but the cautious and reserved one will make sure they don’t get into trouble. It’s a nice combo.
As part of the big room re-org, everyone moved one bedroom counter-clockwise (or something). Mr. Long-Suffering and I gave up the master bedroom (which is only master because it’s largest…it’s not a master suite or anything and didn’t have a bathroom or a walk-in closet like today’s modern homes/McMansions). Both boys are now bunking in there (which has been painted a lovely shade of blue by Mike the Painter…as Bobo mentioned in the Sibling class). Mr. Long-Suffering and I took Bobo’s room, which for all intents and purposes was just the guest room with a crib and some nursery-themed wall clings. The nursery that we made before Chuckles was born is being converted back into a nursery. Chuckles had not wanted to give up his room before Bobo was born, and we didn’t make him so he had been living in the smallest bedroom.
Somehow, that smallest bedroom was also the dirtiest room in the house. We have hard wood floors throughout the upstairs, and if you know how that goes, you know about the dust rabbits I found under the bed and behind the dresser. Did you also know that I had to vacuum out the Zhu-Zhu pet habitat and had to vacuum each Zhu-rat because they were filthy and had been living under the bed? It turns out Chuckles also has a bad case of pack-ratism that I let get out of hand. I found one of my slippers, a missing puzzle piece, an empty apple sauce squeezer container (with cap on so it wasn’t really gross), 14 empty oatmeal canisters (each of which had been cut, colored, stickered, taped or otherwise turned into art, a project, an invention, or a craft with the addition of a paper towel core or some self-sticking foam), two bags-worth of paper recycling, countless strands of beads, plastic rings, fake teeth, super balls, and other goodie bag junk, Valentine cards from 3 years ago, some much-prized mulch, a few shells, and 15 labeled, washed and stacked yogurt containers. His treasures. He’s so going to wind up on Hoarders some day. I did the bulk of the trashing while he was at school on MLK Day. I had off; he had school. I have no idea where his stuff went, if he asks (which is true since I have no idea where it is now).
After the cleaning was done (or done enough to move the furniture), the boys set off for their first night ever of sharing a room/first night in a big boy bed. And it was a school night. But what are you going to do? After about 20 minutes, Chuckles came out of his room, “Bobo is talking to me and won’t let me sleep and is walking around.” So Bobo was put back in his bed, re-kissed and re-tucked, told to stay there, and then we built Chuckles a defensive wall of pillows so his brother can’t see him. It seems to be working (mostly). There have been a few extra night wanderings, but it’s within one standard deviation of the mean, so I’ll call it typical.
Last night, during The Letter Show (aka Wheel of Fortune), I hit the wrong button on the remote. Either that or that giant solar storm that hit yesterday did something to the TV, but I think my remote ineptness is more likely (at least I don’t have one of those Universal Remotes that could accidentally launch a Fail-Safe style nuclear war). Anyway, the screen went black and green letters came up and Bobo asked, “Why does that say ‘video’, and where did Vanna White go?” I was…stunned and not because he knew Vanna’s name. “Why do you think that says ‘video’?” “V-I-D-E-O. Video.” “OooooKay then. Let me get Pat and Vanna right back for you.” Also, if you ask him what he wants to name the baby, he will answer “James Ferguson” (a kid in Chuckles’s first grade class). This would make the Letter Show a lot more fun.
If you ask a variety of people in our lives what they want to name the baby, you will get a shocking variety of answers. Gilbert, Tiberius, John, Anthony, Tony the Shark, Zoltan (apparently the most popular boys’ name in Hungary?), James Ferguson, Munker, and Quayden (but pronounced like John because someone thinks she is funny).
My least favorite part of potty training? When the kid half-way wakes up in the middle of the night because he needs to pee, and starts whining/crying. You go in there, ask if he needs to go potty, he has no idea because he’s asleep and new to the whole pain=potty thing, you take him to the bathroom and as soon as you pull the (dry) diaper off, he pees on the rug and your pajamas pants (the only pair that fits your current girth).
Speaking of jammie bottoms…I just discovered that there is something called pajamas jeans. I am intrigued because I am lazy in many ways. But for forty bucks, I’ll just stay intrigued. I was really interested in Eggies (again because I am lazy...and love hand-boiled eggs), until I saw a real-mom review on GMA one morning before Christmas.
Before Bobo was born, I investigated maternity leave options and was delightfully and pleasantly surprised to find out that we received the two weeks prior to our due date, the 6-8 weeks of disability, followed by 12 weeks of FMLA that did not need to run concurrently with the disability. That gave me 22 weeks off. That’s practically 5 months. I was elated. I had seen an email go out about a year ago saying that we no longer get the two weeks before our due dates off. I was a little disappointed, but it seemed very generous to me at the time, so I figured that during these tough economic times, it made sense to eliminate that perq. You can take vacation for those two weeks or if you’re really miserable, get disability for pregnancy-related conditions (which change to birth-related conditions after birth). Or you can work up to your due date (and beyond). So, I filled out my paperwork for disability and FMLA to get my 20 weeks off (8 of disability plus 12 of FMLA) and was shocked when I got the paperwork back allowing 18 weeks. Nowadays, our disability insurance provider is only offering 6 weeks after a c-section. I’m speechless. That’s…just…I’ve had two c-sections before and am not generally walking upright at the 8 week time frame, let alone the 6 week. It usually takes me a good 9 weeks to feel mostly human again. I’m sure that if I were to have my doctor write a note saying that I was still disabled at 6 weeks, that I could get 8 weeks off of work, but really…the standard has changed? That’s just crazy-talk.
*I had coupons.