Scary As Can Be

Halloween at our house was good fun. I mean that with the slightest sarcasm.

Waiting an entire day to put on a cute costume to go collect candy from people who tell you how adorable you are is pure torture for a kid. By the time Daddy came home, Bella had already wiped off her rosy cheeks and yanked out her bow, Ava had a run in her pantyhose (get used to it, love) and her nose was green slime. The whining had nearly driven Mommy over the edge as she was beginning the sick day from hell.

However, once we showed up at the fall festival (I think it is so silly that this is the new Christian "PC" for Halloween) and saw all the fairies, princesses, goblins and an entire family of The Incredible (seriously. How cute is that?) Bella and Ava both lit up with excitement.

We ate, we walked, Bella jumped in the bounce houses, exiting them as only a princess could.

Ava walked and ran everywhere. Yes, ran, at least as much as pudgy tiny legs can muster up. I envisioned her face planting in the asphalt as she decided to test her new skill, in new shoes and a fluffy costume. My heart couldn't keep functioning in my throat so we distracted her with a brain-rattling carnie train ride.

It really was a fun family night watching the girls enjoy themselves so much. Then with amazement as our three year old ran like a freight train fueled by pure fructose until she crashed into a cotton pillow wall. First thing she asked for the next morning? Candy, of course.

How was your Halloween, or, Fall Festival?

Tub Talk

"Look, Mama, I have a tail!" *splish splash*

She pretends to look sad, eyes downcast.

"I wish I was a yuman."

A human?

"Yes. I wish I was a yuman so I could marry my guy."

I don't say anything, I just keep scrubbing her down, probably a little too vigorously.

"Alls I have is this tail. I have two arms, a tummy and seashells on my boobies. See?"

"But (again with the downcast eyes) I wish I was a yuman like my guy. Papa told me not to go to the Seawitch but I did'n listen. Papa wants me to stay with him and my sistuhs but I need my man so I need legs."

A dramatic sigh as she splish-splashed some more.

Rather than throw up on us both, I silently curse Disney and offer to wash her hair in the pretend beauty salon, complete with Marge the Hairdresser. When that distraction failed, I dangled the promise of a popsicle if we ended this episode of Mermaid Angst immediately.

Sugar overrules a guy any day when you are three.

67 Days, 1597 Hours, 95824 Minutes..now 95823 Minutes..

...'till Christmas.

Last year was a nightmare trying to shop with two babies. I can only imagine the hellish adventure this year with a very verbal 3 year old and fidgety one year old who wants to roam the aisles (Roam. HA. Try run) rather than sit in the cart.

And because I am SOOOO smart n' savvy, I am doing most of my shopping online. It is fantastic. Some stores offer free shipping, some $5 across the board, others have online specials. It is very fun and I can load up the virtual cart, change my mind five times, then order!

However, it appears that I've forgotten who I am.

Yesterday, one of my husband's gifts arrived. I diligently put it in the Christmas gift box hidden somewhere in my house.

On the way home for dinner, we're just chatting about our day and the upcoming week. Out of nowhere, I change the subject and blurt: So do you want your Christmas present now?

Him: Um, what?

Me: Well DO YOU?

Him: Sure, is it shoes?

Me: YES

Him: Dress shoes?

Me: Eh...no. Shoes? Pshaw. What shoes? I haven't gotten you anything yet. Quit pestering me! Christmas is still two months away!

In my opinion, he stared at me a little too long for a person who's driving a small tank.

Head On! Apply Directly To The Forehead. Head On!

I'm kidding. This is not a commercial for Head On!

Actually I want to answer Dr. J's question about feverfew. My husband gets seasonal migraines and suffered for years because Excedrin and Tylenol don't work. The migraines would be so bad he could hardly function at work. It was awful and broke my heart to see him go through each attack.

Then a long-time trusted family doctor suggested he try feverfew rather than a prescription that could lead to issues with high blood pressure.

Feverfew, High-Parthenolide, commonly known as Bachelor's Buttons, contains niacin and iron and provides nutrition to the central nervous system. This herb offers nutritional support for migraine headaches. High-Parthenolide Feverfew delivers 500 mcg of parthenolide in a total of 212 mg of feverfew--from a specially grown "high parthenolide" feverfew leaf--per capsule. Parthenolides are sesquiterpene lactones, the major dietary components of feverfew.

These have saved his life and if that seems too dramatic then it definitely saved his sanity! He starts taking feverfew late summer and continues on through spring. It takes about a month for the feverfew to really be effective and that's why he begins taking it before fall starts.

Of course no woman should take this if she's pregnant or nursing. And I highly recommend the pills with the crushed feverfew leaves as opposed to feverfew free leaves for tea. Unless you like the taste of dirt and bark, then more power to you :)

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Thank you everyone for all the advice and thoughts on organics! I definitely have to continue my research, especially on those items like milk that we use every day. Silly me thinking I could trust companies to just do the right thing :)

It Ain't Easy Being Green

It started with recycling. Hubby began insisting on recycling about three years ago and I think we're pretty darn good at it.

He buys organic feverfew for migraines (works like a champ!) and organic lotions/deoderants. He tried just baby talc but let me just say that we live in Texas so talc and my nostrils are not man enough for his pits in 100 degree heat.

Then after Bella was born, I made the decision to buy only organic milk and then all organic dairy. Easy enough and makes perfect sense for a baby's body, right? Now if I was a even better mama, we'd be doing goat's milk and not cow but I'm not there yet.

Today we spent a eye-popping amount of money on all organic foods at Whole Foods. And it isn't that it all costs so much more than "conventional foods", just that the additional dollar or two more per item for being organically grown adds up quickly!

There's the argument that studies have shown no advantage to buying organic. I disagree. My husband's family elders grow most of their food or buy it locally from other farmers and they are very healthy, active 80 and 90-somethings. Even with his grandfather smoking like a freight train and drinking more than a brewery can churn out in a day, he still works from 4am to 5pm (okay, with a couple of naps sneaking in).

My husband and I have decided to make some lifestyle changes. We are stepping away from processed foods. Slowly. Gotta give ourselves some time to recover from the lack of instant gratification that comes from boxed cookies or potato chips.

We are committed to eating organic, whole foods. We are going to even switch to more "green" housecleaning products. We plan to grow our own herbs, which we attempted a few years ago until the cilantro went nuts and ended up 4 feet tall with flowers all over. Pretty but not tasty.

I used to make fun of those hippies eating organic but it seems so logical now. We aren't going vegetarian because we don't mind a nice juicy steak. However, we do require that lovely cow be fed grass and not grain.

Sure, there's hype and it is deemed trendy to be organic. Yet it is going back to the basics. Simplifying the human diet as it should be. Will we be healthier? I can't see how we wouldn't be.

Will we be broke? Eh, check back with me on that.

What's Mine Is Mine, What's Hers Is Mine.

Love is patient and love is kind. Unless you are three and one.

Ava had a fun birthday party on Saturday, complete with balloons, birthday cake and sugar rushes. Bella had a great time trying on all of Ava's new clothes and playing with her new toys.

We've officially begun the lifelong journey of learning to share.

Being a firstborn, I try hard to keep in mind what it's like, rather than get completely frustrated, when Bella kicks her little sister out of her room. Or yells at the 21-pounder for wallowing all over her before she's had her wake-up milk.

Explaining repeatedly that Ava gets first dibs on her own toys or that Bella has to share HER toys within reason is exhausting. Bella simply sees no reason for either.

Beyond sharing things, I work daily to share myself with the girls. I have to remind myself of the emotions that come with being the oldest. There are more expectations with the older child which can result in frustration and jealousy of the little one being canoodled while big sis has to fend for herself more. The balance of teaching Isabella independence yet allowing her to be snuggly and needful is very important to me. And her.

So that brings me to my questions:

What rank, if any, are you in the sibling order?

What have you liked most and least about your place in the birth line?

What, if anything, do you wish your parent(s) had done differently with you and/or your siblings?

Did your parent(s) do anything special just for you?

My husband is an only child and the addition of Ava to the family has already been an eye-opening, amazing experience for him. There's no such thing as a perfect parent, but we strive to be good parents. Our goal is to raise healthy, happy, kind and giving children. The dramatic flair both girls possess is just pink icing on the cake!

One Year Today

Dear Birthday Girl,

I can't believe we've already had your sweetness for a year!

You are the light of your sister's life. Isabella adores you and loves being your big sister.

You grew from tiny peanut to sittin pretty and before we knew it...

you were climbing into and out of trouble.

However darling you may be, dear Ava,

Willie still doesn't like his ears tugged.

Your smiles, your giggles, the way you cuddle with one arm curled tightly around my neck. How you suck your finger and thumb till they are raw. The way you look at us with a sparkle in your eye just before going off on another adventure, certain to result in shredded paper or half-eaten crayons/playdoh/books.

How your precious nose wrinkles when you are frustrated or simply want to hear yourself breath funny. The way you plink on the piano so proudly while standing on tippy-toe. Or hold a fresh diaper under your naked behind and squat on it as if to help me out. And those sweet, wet baby kisses at bedtime.

Ava Elizabeth, we love and cherish everything about you. Thank you for enriching all our lives.

Love,

Mama, Daddy and Bella

Happy Birthday, Ladybug!!

21 lbs, 30 in
Perfect in every way :)

Puff Jenny

Yesterday, during a wonderful performance of

Something Imaginary by Isabella,

a cute little bumblebee maraca flew into my face.

This morning, the teacher got a sobbing,

wailing, oops-she-peed-on-the-floor-so-sorry Bella

plus her mother looking like this:

I'm wondering if Ms Woodsen will ask Bella later

today what happened to her mama or

if she'll just conclude that we are fully dysfunctional.

**UPDATE**

Nobody told me that two days later it

would hurt like a mofo and look like this!

I know, I know. POOR ME!

Gonna Eat Alotta Peaches

So we went to the country this weekend. We've been going alot lately because my husband's 82 year old grandmother had back surgery and needed help around the house while she healed.

I love the country. In theory.

The clean, crisp morning air. The soothing sound of the tree leaves rustling in the gentle breeze as I sit on the porch swing with my littlest one before everyone else awakes for the day. Fresh garden vegetables and Granny's famous homemade jelly on her superb buttermilk biscuits.

Then I look over to my left and there's a huge spider. I hate spiders. My skin starts to crawl and I get the uncontrollable willies.

I look behind me and there's the world's most GIANT FREAKIN SPIDER. It is white with brown and black stripes. It's body is at least the size of a large marble. It's legs are a good two inches long. Yes, in the milli-second that I saw that spider and went into willies convulsions, that is what seared into my brain.

The rest of the weekend I was on spider patrol. It didn't help much when Bella woke up and said she saw a big BIG spider in the sky when she looked out the window.

It appears I've passed on this unfortunate reaction to God's gross creatures to my oldest daughter. She doesn't reserve the willies just for spiders. It also applies to grasshoppers. Like the one in Granny's kitchen we were all cooing over and having a great nature moment with. Until it jumped on her.

Isabella immediately screamed in sheer horror, began running in place and the willies overtook her tiny body. Everyone at the table stiffled their laughter but I immediately understood her reaction and held her close to me, trying to calm her and convince her the grasshopper just wanted to say hello.

Her hero, Daddy, captured the grasshopper in his hand and together they walked outside to set him free.

Bella had a good five minute conversation with the grasshopper no longer in her personal space way out there in the field.

"Goodbye, Mr Grasshopper! Your family is waiting for you! Eat a good breakfast! I hope to see you next time but don't jump on me, ohay, Mr. Grasshopper?"

Schoolyard Brawl - Toddler Style

Bella has an ongoing issue with a little girl she calls "Mad Girl."

It started when the little girl was swinging (don't these things always start over a swing?) and Bella wanted a turn. Now, granted, I am getting Bella's version of this which makes her out to be the kind, generous playground angel.

Bella says she asked the girl if she could swing, the girl said "No!" and pushed her. With her feet. While swinging. Sounds to me like Bella was standing in front of her and just happened to be in the way of simple swinging procedure preceded by an emphatic "No!" to her request.

However, Bella has since called her Mad Girl. She mentions her every day that she's gone to the playground.

Yesterday, she said that she yelled at Mad Girl. I asked what was said.

"I told her she's not friendly and I AM FRIENDLY!"

We apparently have to work on tone and delivery when one is supposed to be more friendly than her opponent.

I find it very interesting that, like her mother, early on Bella prefers friendships with boys as opposed to girls. She says her best friends are Mitchell and Gavin. She does have a little friend and cousins who are girls but for some reason at school she has boy pals. And what's funny is that everything about Bella screams Uber Girly! The apple didn't fall far from that tree.

I'm just trying to find enough excuses to beg out of another Girls Night Out tomorrow evening.

I am friendlier than YOU!!!

Conversations with a 3 Year Old

Bella's peering behind the couch and I hear a muffled question, "Mama, how did that big bug fly back here?"

I tell her that I have no idea. She stares at it some more then says, "I think it went to heaven. That means it got dead."

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Tuesday Bella was a very big girl and stayed for lunch as well as naptime on the condition that she would NOT have to actually sleep.

When I got there to pick her up, they of course had to wake her.

On the way home she was very excited to talk about her day, announcing proudly, "And I laid there but I DIDN'T SLEEP!"

Okey-doke, pumpkin. You really showed us.

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Bella's going to a Christian school and unfortunately, she refuses to sing "Jesus Loves Me" correctly, thanks to a little doll from China that sings it like a valley girl.

Her version? Jesus loves her because the bottle tells her SOooOooOoo.

I may get an eyebrow raised from the teacher on that one.

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While traveling to the country, we got pulled over for speeding on the highway. As I was giving my best annoyed eye roll to hubby, Bella was evaluating the situation.

"Daddy, it is NOT very safe for that man to stand in the street!"

Hubby agreed and explained that he was driving too fast and the police officer just wanted to tell him to slow down.

Bella pondered that for about a nano-second, then said, "Well, it still isn't very safe to stand in the street. Will you tell him?"

Eh. No. We're just going to take our ticket and go about our merry slow way.

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Ahhhh...the wonderful world of three.

Never lacking in imagination or drama.

Big Girls Really Don't Cry!

Today was Bella's first day of school and she did beautifully, restoring my faith in our decision to take her out of school last fall and wait until she was three.

This is what she WANTED to wear her first day:

(that is a visor connected to the fabulous sunglasses. Thank you, Oma!)

Monday we met her teachers and asked all the pertinent questions like (listing them for Aunt Amanda's viewing)

1) Who takes the kids potty? (bathroom in the room, door wide open, no yelling about having just pooped)

2) How do you discipline? (remove from situation, distraction, floggings with a wet noodle)

3) Do you call if there are tears of tremendous unhappiness? (they give child 30 min trying numerous tactics, then call the mama and hope she's not pretending to not hear it)

4) Even though Bella leaves at noon, can I stay and take a nap with the children? (A stare, then firm "No.")

Bella's best friend, her beloved Mitchell, is in her class. At their teacher meet n' greet, they held hands nearly the entire time. Fortunately, Mitchell is more ga-ga over Bella than she is for him. After about 30 minutes, Bella crossed her arms and growled when he tried to hold her hand for the umpteenth time.

This morning she woke up ready to go and there were no tears when we dropped her off. She was the first kid there, which was great so she could get acclimated. AND she could direct the kids as they came in to where they should play and with whom.

This is right before school. So excited. So much backpack.

We picked her up at noon and as expected, she was upset because she wanted to have lunch with the other kids. That's fine but the stickler is if she stays for lunch she has to stay for nap and she is NOT all about that. When she's bigger, she told us with a grin and skipped out of the school, giant backpack bouncing on her back.

A good first day. I am pleased.

This is Ava wondering when the heck she gets her nap and when it stopped being all about her.

Lil' Miss Manners

We are all about good manners that are age appropriate. For example, I will accept a "yes" over a "yeah" any day. We encourage the "yes ma'ams" and "no sirs" but won't enforce it until Bella's older. For now we are content to be that little reminder voice she hears but doesn't register.

However, I do wonder what the etiquette is with strangers on a few things.

Like during checkout yesterday, Isabella asked Mary the Clerk how old she is. When the lady either ignored her question or honestly didn't hear her, Bella asked again, loudly.

Was I supposed to hush her? Wouldn't it be a bit absurd to tell a 3 yr old that she can ask another child how old he/she is but not a grownup?

When Ava's cruising around she tends to grab onto anyone or anything in her path. That often means she's grabbing the knees or purses of others. I try to allow babies (even other people's) to explore as much as they want as long as no one is getting hurt or bothered. Containing a 10 1/2 month old for 60 minutes is ridiculously impossible otherwise.

Is this inconsiderate of others who may not think Ava's the most adorable ladybug in the universe? Crazy thought, but I guess it could happen.

I do teach Bella to be thankful and loving. Today was our last day of gym class so she finger painted a picture for Mr. Jeremy, her teacher. We rolled it up, wrapped a pretty ribbon around it and Bella presented it with great enthusiasm and a touch of bashfulness this morning.

Isabella is very good at thanking people when they hold doors open for us or when we leave a store. She thanks everyone, in fact, assuming they all live there and we'll see them next go around.

What do you expect from your child(ren) whatever their age at present? Is there anything you consider yourself a stickler on?

Tidbits n' Pieces

Happy Monday, All!

We've had an interesting last few days. First (second?) Ava's got her second tooth. Yay for her, boo for my boobies. We are going to have a serious talk about her knawing habit.

Our little love gave us a bit of a scare last week. She ran a high fever for several days with no other symptoms other than vomiting a good sippie cup's worth the morning we took her to the doctor. Because of the results fo her 9 month anemia test coming back low, the doc was concerned and rushed bloodwork at the lab. Ava is fine and probably had a virus but is okey-doke to continue her mama knawing.

While at the ped's office (one of Bella's favorite places on Earth), Bella wowed the doc with her lack of doctor fear and endless chattiness. I never interfere (ie. save the doc) from her verbal spewing because it is cute and fun to watch someone else get an earful.

Bella: "Soooooo, doctor, do I get a sucker because I am really REALLY good?"

Doc: "Sure, honey! What color would you like?"

Bella: (pause) "Mmmm, I think I don't know which one to choose, so I should have TWO suckers."

Ha! She picked a pink one (of course) and a blue one (Daddy's favorite color).

Since we were actually there for Ava, the doctor began to examine my very unhappy short one. Have I mentioned that Ava's scream could shatter glass? The examination room surely had shatter-proof windows.

As Ava and the doctor wrestled with the stethescope, Bella began singing and swinging her leg around: "Youuuuu are not listening to meeeeeeee. Noooooo, youuuuuuu are not listening to meeeeeeeee."

Psshhh. We pay our pediatrician to LISTEN, you know.

That was a long day for everyone though a pretty good one for Isabella :)

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Have you SEEN the new show on NickJr? It is something ridiculous like Yo Gabba Gabba. More like Holy Crappa Crappa. Seriously? With all the children's shows out there, you had to pick this one to add to your morning lineup? Perhaps it is meant to deter children from watching television. That makes total sense. When my own 3 yr old begins cleaning up her toys rather than watch TV, you know it is bad. Maybe NickJr is GENIUS.

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Would you like to make a fast and delicious dessert to impress everyone who knows you and those who wish they did? Well, I have the boxed dessert for you! It is by Krusteaz and they are pecan bars. My beloved sister turned me on to them and I amazed everyone with my incredible baking skills Saturday night. The most difficult part of the entire process was my husband prying them from my hands to take to the party.

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Hope you all had a great weekend! Have I told you lately how much I like you?

This October will be four years since I got paid to work. (Like how I stated that, all you stay-at-home moms?)

Anyway, that seems so long ago yet I can still remember everything about my job as if I was there yesterday. Weak coffee. Endless office gossip. Walking the stairs 15 times a day to exercise so I could pig out on whatever was in the break room. Arrogant executives, ignorant managers, emotional employees hired and fired like a revolving door spinning out of control.

I loved my position in Human Resources but I grew to hate the company. They were ridiculous and unethical. We in HR championed them to play by the rules, or at least exhibit human compassion, to no avail. Plus they fired me. Slam to the ego, let me tell you.

It was one of the weirdest times of my life. I like to think that God was so busy trying to figure out why the US was in Iraq, He had a fleeting moment to recall that I needed to be fired 3 days after being promoted. He wiggled His fingers and there you have it. To this day it is the only thing that makes sense to me.

Two weeks later, after thinking I had high school mono or something that might kill me, I found out I was pregnant. Four years later, I have a 3 year old and almost 1 year old. That seems so insane! My life is far richer and more blessed than I could've ever imagined.

However, I have thought about the repercussions of staying home. A recent study suggested that when you leave the workforce for just 3 years, you lose 38% of your salary when you try to get back in. Ouch.

Yeah, yeah, a few companies are hiring former SAHM's and transferring their home skills into workable skills but, c'mon, you and I know those employers are few and far between.

While my top priority is caring for my children, what if I need to go back to work one day? If it is 10 years from now, will I have to resort to retail? Or an underpaid and under appreciated receptionist? Will I need to go back to school? Could I stomach the corporate world? I don't think I'd have the tolerance for it. Even if I were to return to advertising and marketing, the crap that comes with it gives me tired-head to think about. Honestly, 3 year olds have better logic than adults most days.

For now I'm perfectly content to wipe little bums, play dress-up, live in the kitchen and apply makeup once in a blue moon. The time I get with my children is priceless. My husband always tells me he's envious of all the moments I experience with our children. What is routine to me is magical to him and I certainly never want to lose sight of that.

Have you thought of the what-ifs? Can you imagine going back to work? If you work, could you imagine not bringing home a paycheck and spending 24-7 with your kid(s)? Moms make all kinds of sacrifices on a daily basis, but what if you had to suddenly change what you've been doing for years?

Do tell...

First Impression

Yesterday while chatting with hubby on the phone, holding my darling baby girl as she giggled and played with my precious 3 year old, I felt the vibration of a blood-curdling scream erupting from my tiniest tot. Before I could blink, Bella was screaming and running out of the room holding onto her butt.

Why?

Because of the indentions she put on her sister's thumb with her teeth.

After an eternally long 3 minute time-out in her room, I asked Bella why on Earth she bit her sister. Very matter-of-fact, she replied, "I wanted to watch Little Mermaid, Mama."

Not the way to go about it, my dear.

Me...me...me...

Phew...growing from 9 months to 10 months old was exhausting and liberating!

I got a new tooth. Finally. Mama was beginning to wonder if I literally had jaws of steel since I had no teeth but could bite a raw carrot in half. Don't worry, she's since pulled out that handy list of have-nots for us infants to munch on.

And I walked. Yeah, yeah, please keep your cool. I took some steps to show that I so know how to do it and I've turned back into an all-fours speed demon. That's the real reason Mama lost all that weight.

She was going to put me in a little gym class but apparently I showed her a wee bit too much of my skillz and she's not sure she wants to "fan that flame." Dangit.

That's it in a nutshell. Lovin the food, still gettin boob, climbing everything within reach while trying for what's not, taking a few steps here and there to wow the crowds and in all just enjoying the attention that comes from being TOTALLY CUTE!

Back To Reality

Isabella has a fantastic imagination which thrills me and worries me at the same time.

As my mom and I've discussed my own childhood imagination, it was hard on me as well as her that I was such a daydreamer. Report cards generally had side notes about me being a good student except for spending so much time in LaLa Land.

Creative minds lead to wonderful things too. I am an artist, though out of practice other than drawing shapes and preschool artwork. I have always loved to read. I have big dreams of big things I'd like to do in life such as open a children's art studio in an old warehouse and hire local art institute students to teach.

On the other hand, a vivid imagination can be stressful or even frightening.

Since I was a child, I've gotten the heebie jeebies from leaving dark rooms or laying in bed in a very dark room. Kinda ridiculous since I always prefer to sleep in total darkness. I remember being a kid and laying in my parents' very large wooden CREEKY bed. I'd lay perfectly still, barely breathing, smack in the middle, covers up to my chin and tucked all in. I wouldn't look to the sides for fear of seeing the huge, gnarly green hand with thick yellow fingernails reaching for me. My heart would thud so loud I swear I could hear it. Then I'd begin to think that whatever was under the bed would just start stabbing at me from beneath the bed! Reigning that fear in long enough to doze off was often a challenge.

Sad part? I still get creeped out like that.

In recent months, I've been struggling spiritually. Questioning everything in and out of religion. Then one night as Ava snored sweetly next to me, I fell into a deep sleep only to be awakened by an incredible force pulling me. Not pulling my physical body but my soul. I fought it furiously with my mind but my body couldn't move. I was truly terrified. Then pissed. I yelled at it, "Let go of me, asshole!" Yeah, I cursed at an evil entity trying to swipe my soul.

When I was able to force myself to wake up, I was so scared I couldn't move for a moment which was even scarier. Finally I was able to snuggle up to my innocent baby girl, praying her precious spirit would protect me. Then I prayed mightily for forgivenes, for peace, for strength.

Now I'm not sure if it was imagination run amuck or literal come-to-Jesus moment for me. Either way, that night has me wondering/worrying if Bella will also experience the negative sides to creative thinking.

For now, it pleases me to see her twirl about the house pretending to be Peter Pan. She insists we address her as Peter Pan and that we don't ignore Tinkerbell who's always exactly where we aren't looking for her to be.

It is sweet and fun to pretend with my 3 year old. I want to continue to foster her imagination but I hope to also help her learn when to let go and return to reality.

Now I must go practice my air guitar lessons.

No Junk In The Trunk

When I got pregnant with Ava, I was 10 pounds heavier than when I was pregnant with Bella. May not seem like much to some but adding pregnancy weight to that, I thought surely I was doomed to forever wear 2 sizes bigger than what I'd been my whole life. Very traumatic.

A friend of mine started doing Weight Watchers. Her mother had joined and gave my friend all the info. She exercised (hahahaha..whew, the idea of doing that is friggin hilarious) and now she weighs what she did in high school. 123 lbs.

I KNOW!

When I'd had enough of the post-baby blubber, I asked her for help. She gave me all the WW materials for nursing moms and I began the diet immediately. I wouldn't even call it a diet. It is a change in the way I eat. I still snack all day. I eat chocolate and carbs. I just do it in moderation during the week, then lose my mind on the weekends. Sort of like college, but we won't go there.

Other diets nearly had me convinced that the WW diet was awful because you have to count points, when in fact it is so easy that I know in a nano-second how much I should or should not eat. 3 pts for a can of Coke or 3 pts for cookies? Eh, food please.

AND...I have lost 20 pounds. I've reached my goal!!

I highly recommend this diet. No, I'm not paid to say that though I'd surely accept payment in large bills, rolled not folded, faced the same way. WW is especially awesome for busy moms or nursing moms. Both of whom deserve a vacation from feeling like a beached whale.

However, if anyone can tell me where my butt went, I'm sure my husband would appreciate it.

*** Breaking News ***

Last night, Ava took her first steps free of any help.

She did it three times and was extremely proud of herself, squealing her delight,

while a little part of me was sad to see this huge milestone so soon upon us.

What's next, I ask. Reading?

Slow down, ladybug!

Razor Tooth Tiger

She is quick and quiet. She'll climb to her destination in a flash, teetering on the edge only for a moment before lunging forward to safety. She looks down, pleased with herself as she feeds on the crumbling tasty treat she'd come after.





She stops chewing and furrows her brow. A low growl begins. Then her tongue starts rolling around, in and out of her mouth, flicking bits of food all over herself. The growl is now louder then suddenly erupts into an ear-piercing screech as she rocks on all fours. She stops, smashes her gums together and grins, pleased that she made her sibling jump out of her skin.





Then she crawls over to her mother, demanding nature's snack. The mother protests. The growling begins again with the little one. She starts screeching again and as her mouth opens, the light bounces off what appears to be one tiny razor sharp tooth. The mother cringes and gives in, intent on weaning her little tiger sooner rather than later.

She'd Quit But Everyone Hates A Quitter

You mothers know your children. You can practically anticipate their next move or even thought! Then your child does something to remind you that he or she is a fantastic little individual and you should never underestimate her.

If you've been reading this blog for awhile then you know our struggle with Bella and her pacifier. The paci is Bella's vice, her smoke, her drink, her Godiva (yeah, it's mah weakness).

The dentist, who we've come to know better than her pediatrician these last two years, said that kids over age 2 with a pacifier become truly addicted to it. They believe they simply cannot sleep/survive without it. Sadly, with Bella, tis true.

So for the last 6+ months, we've been building up daily to her 3rd birthday. Rather, the week after her third birthday so she wouldn't always associate turning 3 with her parents ruining her life. (oh yes, drama of a 3 yr old equates to that of a tweenager)

Then she got sick. VERY sick. We thought she had a UTI but thank God the tests came back negative for it. Nevertheless, the week affectionately known as Hell Week, was set aside until she recovered.

Last night as I was tucking her into bed, she asked to sleep with me. I said no, she begged, pushed out a tear and I told her that she could sleep with me but NO PACI. She spit it out and trotted off to my bed all the while chatting about how much she loves me and I'm her best friend.

People, this child who's slept with a pacifier 95% of her life did not sleep with one last night.

Not a tear was shed. She didn't wake in the night asking for it. She woke up HAPPY!

I'm trying hard not to get too ahead of myself in thinking I can toss the Silicone Demon back to Satan but I am optimistic.

I don't care if she sleeps with me for the next 10 years if it means no more pacifier. Yes, you can remind me of that declaration when I'm complaining that my 13 yr old won't get her butt out of my back.

For now...victory for us all and a date with the playground for Bella.

When it was cute.

Who's Who At 9 Months

Let's play a little game.

Do you know which pictures are Bella and which are Ava?

They are both 9 months old when these were taken.

Most are easy but you may not know them all!

Bella never crawled. She tried for half a second then two weeks later began walking. So now that I have a crawler in the house, it has been fun as well as educational.

Ava can go from room to room at lightning speed. It is amazing! If I'm in the other room and she needs to find me (which is always, as of late), she'll wail "mamamama!" and bolt towards me, stopping only to eye a speck of leaf to determine if it is worthy of a taste before proceeding.

Ahhhh yes. Crawler's appetite. A walker looks for food bits on tables, toys or leftovers at their highchair's footrest. A crawler finds edibles in obscure places like corners, under the couch or behind furniture, smashing their cranium in awesome determination to retrieve a smidge of bug parts. They go out of their way for food inspection.

And Ava's learned the art of carrying something while crawling. She figured out quickly that it is uncomfortable to carry with one hand when crawling as it will crush fat fingers so she just puts it in her mouth. I have a human puppy.

She's quite pleased with her new skill. She's mastered it well and I don't know if she'll walk by ten months like big sister because Ava can high-tail it to her destination on all fours without injury (unless Mama puts a dress on her to trip on and smack her nose on the floor. Sorry, honeygirl!).

"They" say 50% of babies crawl. Guess that holds true in my house.

Go baby!

Wrestlemania

It looked to be a tough fight.

Aggressive Baby vs Lazy Cat.

Ooooh, low blow, Ava.

The two fist grip with a body squish. Bold move!

That's right. Look your opponent in the eyes before taking him out.

And the winner is...

Aggressive Baby!!

Next scheduled fight:

Whenever Lazy Cat decides he wants more of it and lays next to Aggressive Baby.

Fuhwee At Last, Fuhwee At Last!

Our little Bellarena is three years old.

WHERE has the time gone?

My 5 lb 12 oz teensy sweetpea is now a robust 27 lb chatty Cathy. And her favorite color is pink, in case anyone without ears didn't hear that all weekend.



While we might have an idea what traits our newborns might have as they grow, we can never come close to imagining what wonderful individuals they will continuously evolve into. Or what profound effect our children will have on our own lives.



Isabella is confident, yet a bit shy around those whom she may not know well. A daydreamer like her mother. A sensitive soul like her father. She is expressive with her words though she will often get lost in thought. Bella still asks about the "sleeping" dried-up butterfly Daddy put in the garden a month ago.



She constantly challenges and teaches everyone around her. To be more creative, funnier, sweeter, kinder, more giving, more loving, more informed, more patient, more trusting...to be better people.



So here we go, beginning the wonderful journey into the 3's. I've been given a taste in the last couple of weeks how they might be. Full of emotional ups and downs, pure laughter, heavy sobs...all within a matter of seconds. It is like having a toddler teenager.



And I'm okay with that. Just gonna have to wean Ava so I can start drinking. I'm KIDDING. I think. Get back to me in about six months.



:)



Happy Birthday, Angelgirl!!

Funny Phonics

Bella speaks extraordinarily well but she, like any other toddler, has trouble pronouncing certain letters. For her, it is "r" and "k".

Last night she was in the shower, her new favorite pastime, and husband decided to conduct English class.

H: Bella, can you say "O"?

B: O!

H: Good! Now can you say "kay"...for "K?"

B: Kay!

H: Great job! Are you ready to get out of the shower?

B: O'HAY!


*sigh*

Tagged

Louann tagged me which is good cuz I've had no creativity to post anything this week.



What were you doing 10 years ago?


I lived a very different life as a very different and unhappy person.



What were you doing 1 year ago?



Preparing to celebrate Bella's 2nd birthday as I continued to blimp out with pregnancy. Bella still looked like a baby then. Hey, wha happen?



Five snacks you enjoy

1. Godiva chocolate dipped biscotti to go with

2. Starbucks venti white chocolate mocha followed by

3. Lemon poundcake with thick white icing to be chased with

4. Sweet tea and

5. 100 calorie pack of Chips A'hoy. I'm all about balance.



Five songs to which you know all the lyrics

I know a little of the lyrics to a whole lotta songs



Five things you would do if you were a millionaire
I would invest it and become a BILLIONAIRE so I could...

1. Buy an island

2. Build a resort on that island for family and friends to visit. Note, I said VISIT.

3. Build a fantastic home somewhere in the US where there are no tornados, earthquakes or hurricanes. What does that leave...Arizona? They have monsoons. Crap.

4. Set up and fund the very best research lab/facility to find a cure for Cystic Fibrosis

5. Create the children's art studio I've always dreamed of.

SPEND SPEND SPEND! I'm sure that's understood.

Five bad habits

1. I binge on things like cookie dough, 5 packs of M&Ms or french bread with sweet butter. My butt is widening just thinking about it.

2. My imagination puts me into over drive of worry for my children. Random, weird things.

3. I don't take enough "me time" for things like unaccompanied baths. It is not relaxing to have one infant clawing to climb in and a 3 yr old helping you to wash your hair with one of her millions toys crowding the tub.

4. I start projects but don't always finish them (husband will fall out of his chair that I've admitted to this)

5. I rarely floss



Five things you like doing

1. Love to draw. I think I remember how but currently it is mostly shapes and flowers.

2. Love to read. I think I could still read books without pictures but it is ify.

3. Engaging in a full conversation with my husband. That is usually when the kids are sacked out in the car on a trip somewhere. So we get to talk about once a month.

4. Pretend play with Bella. She is hilarious and it is a treat to be a guest in her world of make-believe.

5. Pretend shopping. I love LOVE to look at catalogs of things I'll never buy but picking one thing off every page that I'd have to purchase.



Five things you would never wear again

1. Short shorts *shudder*

2. Uncomfortable high heels for the sake of other women

3. Backless tennis shoes. So dumb.

4. Blouses with shoulder pads (I second Louann on this one!)

5. Reba McIntire 90s hair (yes, I did)



Five favorite toys

1. DVR on the TV...life saver

2. Computer. Helps keep me sane and in touch with reality. Sorta.

3. Cell Phone. Far less disruptive conversations if I am defensively driving while the children are strapped in the back seat with gadgets of entertainment.

4. Bath tub. Oh how I miss thee.

5. CDs...any that my brother and sister make for me. HINT HINT

Okay, you're it...

Candid Camera

If my girls were celebrities, they'd surely be picky about their photo ops.

This one, for example, would be lovely in Parents magazine.
All cute and posed. No need for the fashion police either. Just pure adorableness.



But all celebrities have photos taken for which they'd NEVER want anyone to see. It might ruin their reputation for being adorable!

So this one would probably show up in some rag like Planet Poop or the New York Postpartum.

Happy 8 months, Ava Elizabeth! All your grinning, raspberry blowing and extreme crawl races fill our hearts with great joy.

Paging Doctor WhatsHerName

I'm going to the doctor this afternoon. I've been sick since Monday and can't seem to shake it. Like all good citizens, I avoid doctors as much as possible. However, facing the weekend in and out of fevers and the lovely attitude that accompanies feeling like warmed over doodoo, I took my sister's advice.

Problem? I have had one doctor the last 7 years. My OBGYN. I'm pretty sure he's not interested in checking anything neck up.

So I've located a doctor on our plan and get to start a whole new relationship with someone who's hopefully been in practice longer than I've been a mother.

The upside? 2-3 hours in a doctor's office. By myself. I may actually get to finish reading an article. Or two!

I'm All That And a Bag of Chips

We just got back from seeing my family in East Texas. In my brand new used 4Runner. It even has that used car smell with the nice new car spritzer.

I love it. We all have our own personal space during drives. That way, when Bella vomited Sunday's entire menu, it remained in her own personal space.

Ava was delightful the whole weekend. She took heavenly naps, laughed, screeched with delight and let everyone hold her for at least a nano-second +1. Bella had a bit more of a drama riddled time but that's par for course these days.

On the drive back there was the usual holiday traffic and prayers for especially long naps went unanswered.

While inching along the highway, my husband pointed out a cute dog peering out of the window. I don't look into other people's vehicles. A good example why I don't? As husband was pointing and chatting with Bella about the dog, the people in the vehicle thought we knew them and were all craning to see who we were in order to wave back. Even rolling down their window just in case we wanted to give a shout out. Awkward.

So as we keep crawling home, an 18 wheeler pulls up next to me. I really never look at those drivers. They are usually oogling hard for a glimpse of cleavage which I didn't even own until I had babies.

I made the mistake of looking at Trucker Man cuz he was right next to me and through the corner of my eye I saw his arm moving. I glanced super fast to see him tip his coffee mug at me and grin toothlessly while his window was down.

"Ewwwwwwww!" I said, shuddering dramatically. "Truckers are so gross! All horny and icky!"

Husband said the usual husband stuff, "Yeah, cuz you're HOT."

Then Trucker Man moved up next to the vehicle in front of us and I watched him talk to whoever was in there, then wave the vehicle over to his lane.

To get around the stalled out 18-wheeler in my lane.

Oh.



So, my friends, let that be a lesson to you. Truckers are not always horny and icky. Sometimes they are also friendly.

Something To Talk About

I'm not a girl's girl. I don't have a gaggle of girls that I like to hang out with. My best friend is my sister and my next best friend is Cathleen, Bella's best friend's mom (got that?). Most women get on my last ever-lovin nerve.

I've always been that way. One friend at a time. Low maintenance friends at that. Except with my sister, it is required we email/call every day or every other day. She helps keep me sane.

Tomorrow, I'm meeting some new women. Cathleen is making me do it. OKAY, she's not making me. It is an organization of stay-at-home moms who have playdates for their toddlers. But they also have a Girl's Night Out. Before Cathleen even finished her sentence about the GNO, I shot it down. Why?

It is far easier for me to mingle with moms when I have my kids with me. I feel like the focus is off of me or something. I don't think I'm all that but when I'm around a bunch of women, I feel like the intense white light of interrogation and judgement is upon me. But I have no idea what I think they are judging me on!

Granted, alot of women are snippy, catty and clustered together in their little groups with an invisible shield up for no intruders. I've seen this at Bella's gym class, her school and on the playground.

But that's me judging them, isn't it.

For whatever reason, when I enter the vacinity of a group of women, I get all verklempt. If all eyes are on me when someone asks a question, I turn bright red and words dribble out of my mouth like I'm on heavy medication.

I guess you could say I'm socially inept with females. However, I can hang with my husband's friends or socialize at his work functions like a superstar. I enjoy mingling with his co-workers or laughing at the endlessly retold stories by his friends. And I have no problem when those friends happen to have a girlfriend that week.

So what's the deal? Increasingly I hear how important it is to have women in our life. That it is supposed to keep us grounded to have that GNO.

Am I missing out on this big secret to happiness as a woman? Am I unfulfilled and didn't know it?

I know that I'm smart, funny and delightful to be around. My mama tells me so. Now that I'm a mama too, do I have to start being a girl's girl?

** UPDATE **

It went well! I really liked the "host mom" and a couple of others. When it got too gossipy I would just take Ava over to play with different kids. Bella was a bit sensitive but she only knew one child and overall she adjusted really well with a complimentary toddler fit when it was time to leave.

I have to say though with the way those 10 kids could tear up a house, I don't think I'll volunteer my home just yet!

A Leg (or two) To Stand On

Fat thighs are apparently helpful if you're

7 1/2 months and determined to stand vertically.

She really doesn't understand why

she can't just get up and go like big sister.

So, she practices.

All. Day. Long.

Worry Warts n All

My mom once told me that once you have children, you never ever stop worrying. Naturally, having my parents worry about me when I was younger was more annoying than appreciated.

What Mom didn't tell me is how irrational those fears can become!

I would imagine most pregnant women have over-the-top fears because we all know that absolutely anything can happen in those 9 months. Or we feared giving birth, not only for the baby's life but our own. Then of course the fears that baby wouldn't be healthy or perfect. We can mostly blame hormones for those panic attacks.

But what is with the constant dramatic "what-ifs" that pop into my head all the time?

What if I'm turning a corner while holding the baby and practically knock her head off on the door frame? Okay, done that. Twice.

What if I'm carrying my baby, I trip and lose grip of her only to watch helplessly as she rolls 2 feet away on the parking lot. Yeah, that happens in slow motion it turns out.

I'm constantly doing safety checks.

Is the knife block far enough back on the counter? Should I just do without knives for the next 10 years?

With all the perusing of the fridge Bella does, could she possibly pull it on top of her? Is she Mighty Mouse and I didn't know it?

Cribs are supposed to be safe but can I really leave Ava in there to play freely? Is there some crazy way she could get a limb yanked out of socket through the bars? I did the coke can test with them. Is that enough?

In the past if someone cut me off when I was driving, I would yell or make eye contact, cuz we all know that is intimidating. Now I'm afraid someone will pull a gun on me or my family. Someone needs to create a baby-in-the-vehicle force shield.

While I don't own one and don't plan to, I finally understand kid leashes. I've had Isabella disappear into the clothing rack and I nearly passed out in sheer panic until I heard her giggles from deep within toddler pj's.

Being in public, I constantly worry that someone is eyeing my children for the perfect opportunity to snatch one. While part of me thinks that is extreme, the other sees those creeps in the pedophile section of the paper or hears the horror stories in the news.

I know that I cannot protect my children forever but as long as they are dependent on me for their well-being, it is my job to be on constant surveillance. At home, in public, it is my job to protect them to the best of my ability.

However, I don't want to be That Mom who doesn't know when to chill and let her child venture from the nest a bit. Fortunately, I don't really have to face that challenge until fall when we attempt preschool again. I was pregnant with Ava the first go-around with Bella's school, so we'll see if that was hormonal or I'm just always a frantic freak.

What do you fear most? If you have more than one child now, what is it that you have maybe loosened your grip on?

** Please note: In reviewing this blog entry, I do hereby acknowledge that I am about due for the return of Woman Week as it has been 15+ months since the last one **

A Blessed Day

Our babies are the best gift my husband and I could ever give this world and each other. Two tiny human beings who have such an incredible impact on our lives and the lives of those who've met them.

I knew I always wanted to be a mother but I never imagined a love so fierce that it makes my heart skip a beat.

Who knew I could function on so little sleep and still keep up with a toddler and an infant? Or that nutrition and bowel movements would become such an integral part of every day? I never sang in public until I had a toddler. Now it is nothing for us to break into song while grocery shopping! Hearing Bella's sweet voice belt out "Happy And You Know It" is worth all the wincing at my tone-deafness.

To hear my children's laughter is the highlight of my day. When they cry it breaks my heart into a million pieces but when I can comfort them the world rights itself once more.

These tiny souls of light and love teach me every day how to be a better person. How to be more understanding, more giving, more loving.

When Bella was born, I looked down at her wrinkled red little self and wondered if I could truly love her more than I love me. Could I and would I sacrifice myself for her or any child of mine if I had to?

Before Ava was born, I worried..will I love her as much as I love Isabella? Am I going to be strong enough for these girls? There for them in an instant and stepping back when they need me to?

Of course. I'm a mother.

I'm Mommy.

And I'm blessed.

Happy Mother's Day to all you moms and may you also feel blessed this day.

Hello, Lovey

I could never get Bella attached to anything besides her pacifier. Ava doesn't take a pacifier and appears to no longer have interest in her thumb (thank heavens).

Today she found a "lovey" for herself. A dish towel.

She was laying next to me playing with it, rubbing her face, covering and uncovering her face with it, "talking" to it and hugging it close to her. I admit, I got a little jealous.

So when it came naptime (we are in the throes of learning to nap without nursing), I lay her in the pack-n-play with her dish towel.

I have not heard a peep. I just got done sneaking in to make sure she's still breathing* and there she is, curled up with her dish towel.

If anyone needs a plastic key impression, just see Ava's forehead.

Looks like my mom is gonna have to point me in the direction of more dish towels for backup.

*For all who may be concerned, though she's been sleeping on her tummy for a couple of months, I won't let her have her dish towel buddy for night sleeping till she's older.

Jumpin Snooze

A good reason Mommy doesn't exercise.

It is exhausting.

All Together Now...

Potty training is a family affair. This, I did not realize until we embarked on the journey.

There is constant potty surveillance. Whether it is to make sure Bella doesn't go without telling me to help her or locating a bathroom immediately upon arrival anywhere outside of the home.

Then there are the potty conversations. We went to dinner with family on Tuesday night and before leaving the restaurant, Bella announced she had to potty...again.

As she's sitting on the pot, she yells (as if I'm not 2 inches in front of her), "Mommy! When's the poop gonna pop out?"

The lady in the next stall of course started laughing.

After finishing up, we wait in line to wash our hands. I spend most of the time in public restrooms now telling Bella to quit touching everything. I think I'll bring gloves to slip onto her hands once she's washed them because she HAS TO throw away the paper towel into the trash, even if it requires jumping up and into the trashcan.

And we all know that bathroom doors are the nastiest, so as I cut Bella off before she can reach the door handle, she points out that the lady over there has germs too and we better not touch her. Ha.

While I'm elated Bella is diapers no more except night time, it is rather humorous to me how going to the bathroom is the number one most important activity throughout the day. And it is fine by me!

She is a lady, after all...

1/2 Birthday + 1

Ava is 7 months old today!

Yes, that is a bow velcroed around a wisp of hair.

As you can see, Willie is a glutton for punishment.

He lays just within reach then cries out loudly as if greatly

surprised when she grabs chunks of skin and fur.

It's okay, baby, kitties don't taste that yummy anyway.

Happy Seventh Month, Honeygirl!