April 27, 2010

Pigtails & Pee Pees

Tonight in the tub, James pointed to Stella, looked shocked beyond words and asked:"Sissy, where's your Pee Pee?"

We explained that girls did not have pee pees, and James said, "Well, why not?".

Before we could answer, he moved on to the next thing, pointed to Stella's rear and said, "Sissy got buns. One, two buns."

Time for the separate tubs?

And yes, those are Big Bird underpants on his head. If he won't use them for potty training, then at least we have some fashionable hats.

We may have no sense or sanity around here, but by God, we have hats.

April 25, 2010


When Jason and I started dating back a hundred years ago, his mom had these three cats. I had never seen anything like it - she would spread catnip on the floor and these crazy cats would roll around and whine and act like they were on crack.

These days, I am the catnip and my kids are the cats.

I walk in the door from work, and James or Stella (or both) turn into four-legged felines. If I sit down on the floor with them, they'll crawl all over me and make weird gutteral noises. James will rub his back against my legs, and Stella's clawing at my hair. And it doesn't stop. For hours. Until bedtime. This is the most bizarre thing. Jason does not have the catnip effect - just me.

I would consider it endearing, but it's a little nuts. I'm wondering if it's my new perfume...

At-Rank Race 2010

Fabulous weekend at the Athens Twilight Criterium bike race with our pals. Despite the torrential rains, it was a blast! Love you guys! Thanks for the memories (from what we remember), the wet hair and a whole lotta laughs.

April 22, 2010

Hot Dog Dance

So my son is a bit of a dancer. Watch out Broadway.

Are you ready for the flipping Hot Dog dance? (I didn't think so.)


April 14, 2010

Kinda Gotta Hunch

When a woman becomes pregnant, she's unknowingly sealed a deal with the hunchback devil. Another persistent joy of motherhood = the hunchback. The constant job of now looking towards the floor.

Now, I started out this gig with a little curvature of my spine, so that puts me at an immediate disadvantage.

Still, during pregnancy (pre-curvy spine or not) the hunch starts. The leaning forward into the belly. The bending down in order to see the tiniest little clothes you've ever folded. The attempts to find your ever-disappearing feet, to paint your toes.

Childbirth brings the official push! push! push! hunch. This is where you really crack the spine into submission. C-section births have a slower rate of hunch, but they quickly catch up during the later months.

The breastfeeding starts the fusing of the ever-bending spine into Igor-esqe proportions. The look-he's-latching-no-he's-not-latching bending down to look at precious baby, the constant feedings. Equals humpy dumpty.

The diapers. The laundry. The stroller. The carseat. The sitting phase. The crawling phase. The walking phase. The kids (their toys, their getups) are always teenier than you are, so you're bent down and looking down all the time.

Oh, the backaches. The backpain never stops. Lucky for me, I work. So I get hunchback breaks from the kids during the day, where I sit at my computer working (ah-hem, hunching over)...oh wait...strike that.

I would say it gets better, but tonight as I was hunched down under the table cleaning up the remnants of dinner, it occurred to me that I may possibly be in the bending position until these kids grow taller than me. And I'm pretty tall. And how long until they are taller than me (if at all)? Ten more years? Twelve? The hunchback along with my "yes, Master" attitude towards the two-year old... I'm definitely feeling Igor's pain.

I've kinda gotta hunch...that the hump is permanent.

The good news is that the children love to grab onto my fabulous humpback while I ride them around like a packmule. At least it's good for something.

April 13, 2010


Stella girl is wearing a dress of mine. My mom managed to keep it in pristine condition for well over twenty-eight years. Such care taken to hold this dress for my daughter. I was quite overwhelmed with the responsibility. I think Stella was too. Therefore, in protest, she attempted to destroy the vintage smock by diving into the square foot garden and crawling around on the pollen covered deck. She rolled around in the grass, bumped up against the house. She pulled the dress over her head, as if screaming "bring on the pants!"

She may have her mother's sense of style (hopefully, not...as I have none), but she definitely has her father's degree of daredevil.

Thanks, Mom for hanging on to this dress for us. And while these two gals do not embark on dresses very often, Stella and I are quite thankful for the stylish sentiment.

April 12, 2010

I Get Out

In much the same vein as my "Things I Would Never Do" post, I always believed that my children would be potty trained by two and sleeping in real, adult four-poster beds by the age of twenty-four months.

Two more strikes against me.

Recently, I became resigned to the fact that I really do not care if my son has a pacifier until he goes to college, or wears diapers to his junior prom. The thought of wrenching the night-time paci away from his death grip, coupled with saying "good boy, you get an M&M for poopy", all the while trying to keep his sister alive and well, working a full-time job with a nasty commmute AND with a husband who now is traveling like an Avon lady...well, it all just seemed insane.

So I quit. I just gave it up and stopped caring entirely about pacis, potty-training and the impending big boy bed. Stella's thumbsucking also does not bother me in the least. In fact, I probably encourage it. She looks like Linus when she carries a dirty t-shirt from the laundry pile whilst sucking her thumb, and we ooh and ahh over her general cuteness. Also, where I pushed James into using a spoon by his first birthday, I just let Stella eat pasta, potatoes and cheese grits with her hands, like a little miniature cavewoman. Who cares, I think. She will eventually use a spoon, fork or other utensil. Or she will eat creme brulee with her hands at her junior prom, alongside her diaper-wearing brother.

Another strike.

Of course, if motherhood has taught me anything (not sure it has, just saying), it's the fact that kids always have other plans in store. For instance, Jason walked upstairs to wake James up from his nap on Friday. He says, "Come on, buddy, let's get out." James looks at him, hops up and says, "I get out." He throws his leg over the rail of the crib, does some lightning fast little maneuver, and he's standing on the floor. He got out. By himself. The monkey is officially loose.

Therefore, my plan for not caring about the big boy bed has unraveled and I am officially caring, lest I wake up at three in the morning, to a little boy face hovering next to me, saying "I get out" and squealing with glee. Which I am sure will happen in the next four days while my husband is out of town. The thought of waking up to a face curiously staring back at me is right up there with my fear of killer whales and being buried alive. Just freaks me out.

I'm not sure my way around this one.

April 6, 2010

The Scariest Box Ever

Today, I had one of the scariest three minutes of my life. I am claustrophobic to begin with. I do not particularly like being buck naked in strange places. I am scared of being secretly recorded on a mini-camcorder and then someone posting me all over the internet on a weird website entitled "This is What Childbirth Can Do To Your Body". Oh, and I do not like using towels when I did not oversee the washing of the same.

Yes, today I went to a spray tanning booth for the first time.

It started off okay. Clean place, nice front desk person, and a coupon. She talked me through the do's and don'ts, pointed out the proper way to stand, and how to handle the blotting of the tanner after the spray is done. I learned how to rotate and point my arms, so the tanner was evenly distributed. Okay, okay, I thought, I've got this down.

The nice lady did not tell me that I would jump out of my skin when the sound in the 4x4 box started. And gasp for air when the foul smelling liquid sprayed at me like a cruel fire hydrant. The noise was like a freight train, and I was trapped in this teeny space, naked and scared I was being recorded. I was so freaked out, that I had my mouth open (perhaps in a quiet scream), and I ended up inhaling at least three solid gulps of tanner. I can still taste the stuff, two hours later. I forgot to close my eyes. I forgot to hold my breath. I forgot that I was supposed to stand on a small towel in the box, so I accidently stepped off the towel in my effort to rotate according to the rules, nearly slipping and busting my naked buns on the floor of the small, fiberglass coffin (which at this point, was surely where I was going to die).

Now, I am quite impressed with the results. And much like all good things worth having, the spray tan is a terrible journery. But alas, I'm beige as an undercooked biscuit (which is promising for me). I fear the orange as a carrot may happen once I go to sleep. Unfortunately, the stepping-off-of-the-towel incident has also caused the bottom of my feet to be the color of mud. Looking on the bright side....maybe tan feet bottoms will keep stinky feet bottoms in check.

April 4, 2010

Things I Would Never Do

Oh, the things I swore I would never do. When I was pregnant with James, my first child... the list was longer than the things I would actually do.

I would not allows pacifiers, television, baby swings, formula, store-bought baby food, fetal monitors, epidurals, negative birth stories. I could not bear the thought of colic, Mylicon, or sleep positioners. I would never let my children eat off the floor, ride in a shopping cart without a cover, use sippy cups and eat junk food.

Finally, at the top of my list was the pet peeve of car DVD players for children. Well, since everything else on my "never gonna do list" has effectively gone to hell in a handbasket, I figured this weekend and the car trip, we'd get the DVD player for the car.

Much to my surprise, the DVD player and Madagascar 2 did not do much to abate the screams, the tantrums and the overall drama of riding in the car. After cookies and an offer of hamburgers (one hamburger which was literally thrown back at us), and the four hour trip which took a whopping six hours and fifteen minutes going there, and something like eight hours coming back.... I am officially travelled out. Jason and I are rock-paper-scissoring to determine who will run to the store for milk tonight.

Overall, the weekend was fun. If we could beam up next time, then we'd be a little more overjoyed. The kids saw three great-grandparents, three grandparents, an "aunt" and the ocean for the first time. There were Easter baskets, a bunny cake, junk food and running through a new house. Oh, and James learned to play the "pee-nan-no". Can't really beat that.
Love to you all & Happy Easter!