Mandajuice

Lies and manipulation

Today I was organizing a new  file drawer (yay for preschool!) when I came across the yellow tablet I was using right after Genoa was born.  I had put it aside to save my notes about the hospital, my log of labor contractions and several pages of right boob/left boob nursing times.  I actually DO keep that stuff since it's something I want to remember.

Even more memorable, but something I had already forgotten, was a quote I'd written down so I wouldn't forget to blog it.  Alex's first lie: 

Dave:  How did the tape come off the couch? (our leather sofa has a rip in it that I've taped shut until I can find a leather repair kit.  The boy knows that touching the tape is VERBOTEN!)

Alex:  A pinsquito* came in and bite-ed it off!

*pinsquito is Alex-code for mosquito.  Nice try buddy.

I also found a note I wrote just last weekend.  We were leaving the park and Dave had just finished scolding Alex for not cooperating while he was attempting to put him in his car seat while standing on a busy street.

Dave:  I love you, Big Boy.

Alex:  DON'T SAY THAT.

Dave:  Why not?

Alex:  Because it's not true.

He's not even THREE yet.  We are SO in for it.

In praise of my new cell phone

Please tell me you can hear this!

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Developments

Just like her brother did, Miss G is racing right through all her developmental milestones.  She smiles!  She giggles!  She belly laughs!  And I am loving every single second of it.  I haven't talked about it enough, but I am totally and completely smitten with my baby girl.  She is so sweet and cuddly that she makes me want to have a million more chubby wubby girlies.

Her latest thing is reaching out and grabbing stuff: 

And putting it into her mouth:

Because she is already teething.  Yes, you read that right.  She's only three months old!  Nothing has poked through her gums yet, but the drooling and the chomping (yes, even on my boobs) has begun.  I'm guessing we're only about a month away from actual teeth.  (Alex got his early too.)  My poor nipples may never recover.

Six things that each deserved a whole blog entry

1. Getting an IUD is completely benign.  I was sure that the promised "mild discomfort" and "menstrual-like cramps" was really code for "feels like an episiotomy of your cervix".  But I was totally wrong.  I didn't even feel the doctor put it in and the cramping was exactly as they described.  As soon as my girly bits stop smelling like Betadine, we are clear to reconvene our procedure. 
2. For the first time ever, we put Alex to bed early last night for being bad.  He just would. not. behave.  No matter what.  The second I turned my back on him, he chased the dog under the kitchen table with a plastic toy. Which he then threw at me when I scolded him.  When I put him in his room for throwing his toy at me, he threw legos at the baby gate.  When we finally let him out, he refused every food known to mankind and then while "helping" his Dad make some peas with butter, he pretended a binder clip was a bulldozer and smushed Dave's sandwich bread.  While Dave and I cleaned up the water he "accidentally" spilled all over me, he made a little mountain of peas on the kitchen table and then purposely knocked over his water glass.  We just couldn't stand to be around him anymore.  He fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow.  Apparently the not-napping is not-working.
3. Three weekends ago Alex had his first middle-of-the-night-barf-o-rama-fest.  I've been meaning to write about it ever since.  He made it almost three years before throwing up for the first time!  And I was sure that since it had never happened to him before, it would COMPLETELY freak him out.  But he handled it like a champ.  After it was all over, he adorably said to me "my tummy doesn't feel sad anymore, Mommy." 
4. I can't get enough of The Dog Whisperer.  Where was Cesar Millan when Harry used to poop in Dave's shoes every day?  What is it about that dude?  The fact that I just ASSUMED he was adorably homosexual (those ROLLERBLADES!) until his wife and two children popped up in an episode?  Whatever the lure is, the whole show just confirms that I am a horrible dog owner.  Watching it has actually guilted me into playing fetch with the dog on his morning poop walks.  Either way, I am totally Harry's bitch.  Calm and assertive my ass.
5. I'm pretty sure my teeth are rotting right out of my head.  Since the medical bills from Genoa's birth are really starting to pile up, I decided to go to one of the Dentists that is covered 100% by our insurance.  I dragged my mom and the two kids along with me when I thought I had a 1:30 appointment, but they pretended they'd never even heard of me.  The office was FILTHY.  It smelled like B.O. and the waiting room was a veritable circus of toothless freaks.  And then Genoa started to scream her guts out while I was negotiating a new appointment and I knew I was going to have to nurse her right there in the ghetto.  When I yanked out my boob to feed my child in a medical office, the receptionist had the nerve to give me the evil eye.  THE NERVE.  In spite of all of that, I go back on Tuesday for my first appointment.  There is nothing like the power of FREE.
   
6. Last weekend we went to a picnic.  I knew beforehand that Mrs. Post-Op Perfection would be in attendance (seriously, you need to READ THIS entry from last year to fully understand what I'm talking about here, otherwise, you're just going to think I'm a bitch.).  This time, having accepted the fact that I just don't like her, I was prepared to dodge and ignore her the whole afternoon while busying myself with the kids.  But LO AND BEHOLD the woman who claimed she was never going to give up on her quest for the holy grail of thinness looked exactly the same as she did a year ago.  Like, NOT THINNER AT ALL.  So I told her she looked great and asked her what her grand total weight loss was and DUN DUN DUN, she's gained five pounds!  And then I stripped down to my bathing suit and hoisted my fat, glorious, post-baby body right into the pool.  And the revenge water has never felt better.

Nuggets of Alex-y goodness

• Alex walked up to me tonight and said, "You only have a tiny bit left!  Finish your drink and you can have a cookie!"  It was a cosmopolitan.  My second cosmopolitan.
• This morning he wanted me to watch him pop wheelies on the patio and tried to encourage me outside by saying "It's warm outside.  And cold.  They made it BOTH.  It's a good combination!"  Unfortunately wheelie popping is forbidden unless he's wearing his helmet.
• Dave fried up some chicken strips tonight and after offering me some and assuring me "but they don't have dairy" the boy praised his Daddy's cooking, "This is gooder than a restaurant!"
• What else?  By the time I arrive to pick him up, he already "can't remember" what he did at school - not what books he read, not what craft he made and not who he played with during recess.  I am horrified.  He's not even three years old and I already have no clue what he does when I'm not there.  Should I start worrying now or just wait until he starts flashing gang signs?
  

"Ghost Monsters"

When he first told me what this artwork represented, I understoon him to say "Goat Monsters," which is almost as awesome as "Ghost Monsters."

Scary!!

Alex just fell out the window.  The gardeners come every Wednesday and I always let him sit in the window sill so he can watch them mow the front lawn.  Today the window was open about four inches, which I assumed was safe.  I also assumed he couldn't or wouldn't open the window any further.  I was wrong!

I heard him scream and ran in just in time to see the gardener lifting him back into the bedroom through the open window.  He must've been leaning on the screen when it just popped right off.  The good news is that it was only about a three foot fall and he is totally fine.  It just royally freaked him out!  And me too.  I'm still a bit shaken up and will definitely go out and buy window guards today.  Thank god we live on the bottom floor; I swear my kids are trying to send me to an early grave.

In other news, I'm running another contest!!  Go to the Naked Ledger and leave me a budgeting tip and you could win a $50 gift card to the club mom vendor of your choice!

S-M-A-R-T

Yesterday when I arrived to pick up the boy, he was munching down the remainder of the blueberries and yogurt I had packed him for lunch.  It took a few moments before he noticed me peeking into the classroom from the doorway and said "Hi Mom.  What are you doing here?"  He had no idea it was already time for me to pick him up.

His teacher immediately approached me and introduced herself.  "He did really well!" she said and I told her how nervous I had been because he's so much younger than the other children.  "He won't be three until the end of September," I admitted.  "REALLY?!?" She exclaimed, "I just had to tell him the rules and then he listened to me the entire morning."  I was so relieved.

I pulled up a tiny chair and asked him how his day went and he immediately expounded on the painting! and the loving! of the paint!  [He painted me a "ghost monster!" which is all black and moody and also the first piece of toddler art I plan to keep for posterity.]  The teacher rushed off to grab his masterpiece for me and I got up to check on the baby. 

A swarm of about four preschool girls had huddled all around her while she slept in her car seat on the floor.  Even after I asked the girls not to touch her face, they wouldn't stop, so I had to lift her up onto a table where they couldn't reach her.  (We had to do the same thing when we dropped Alex off in the morning.  What is it with little girls and babies?!) 

When Miss Virginia returned with the art work, she went on to tell me that he had participated "REALLY well" during story time.  She first reads the story and then asks questions about it and apparently, Alex paid attention and didn't hesitate to speak up with the answers.  He kept telling her that he is a "big boy!" which she loved hearing. 

Then she leaned in close to my ear and conspired, "We don't like to put labels on children here, but your son is S-M-A-R-T!"  Finally, as she was lining the kids up to go to the bathroom after lunch, she asked me "Is this his first school experience?" and when I nodded yes, she mouthed "WOW" back to me, shaking her head in amazement. 

Miss Virginia is a smart cookie herself; she knows exactly which magic words keep the parents happily writing those tuiton checks.  And even though I know she probably says similar things to all the parents, it was nice to get confirmation that our son is every bit the genius we've always thought he was.

Stupid boobs

Genoa has been cranky the past two days, not napping and not going to bed at night and waking up early in the morning to nurse.  At first, I only noticed the weird sleep pattern, but today I had a moment of clarity during which I remembered that she skipped a feeding on Saturday while I attended a bridal shower.  Alone.  Dave gave her a bottle*, which she drank, and then I just let her nurse off my engorgement over the next 24 hours.

I never pumped.  Because I am an idiot.

And NOW, with the benefit of hindsight, I remember why I used to complain about pumping and how EVERYONE talks about getting out of the house and letting their husband give the baby a bottle.  And how for me, that NEVER worked.  I always have to pump the very INSTANT the baby drinks anything or my milk supply suffers.

I'm not kidding when I say that one stupid bottle* is all it took to make my girl hungry ALL THE TIME.  My body saw one missed feeding as an opportunity to stop making that feeding and now my boobs are empty and my girl is mad.  I'll have Dave give her a bottle* tonight before bed, so she'll sleep, and of course I'll pump like crazy tonight and for the next couple of days, but THIS SUCKS.

* Of breastmilk mandajuice.

Pre-schooler!

Right now Alex is busy enjoying his first day!  Dave and I took him this morning and stayed with him on the playground for about a half hour before arriving at the conclusion that he is totally okay without us.  He usually seems like such a big boy to me, but today, surrounded by 3-to-6-year-olds, he seemed like such a LITTLE boy.  I'm pretty sure he is the youngest kid in his class. 

I wasn't the least bit sad to leave him, which is probably strange.  I should be sad, right?  I should feel guilty for leaving him, but I'm mostly just happy for him.  And admittedly a little nervous.  I won't walk more than five feet without the phone.  Actually, both phones.  Just in case. 

I can't wait to pick him up!