Mandajuice

Last day of 2006

I better hurry up and lose 15 pounds today!

Sorry for the absence.  My brother and sister cornered me the other day and complained that they barely read this thing since I stopped posting every day.  The fact that my FAMILY says that means it must be absolutely true.  I vow to post more often, hopefully almost daily, in 2007.

Now time to get all the thoughts out of my head:

1. Dave got some of that new flavored Splenda in his Christmas stocking.  It rocks my world.  I've tried Torani syrups, Starbucks syrups and even baking extracts to make my coffee taste better without diluting it or making it too sweet.  Vanilla Splenda is the bomb diggity.
2. I took Genoa in on Thursday for her flu shot booster and had them measure her head again, just for good measure.  In one month it went from the 92nd percentile to either the 97th percentile or off the chart, depending on who did the measuring.  I stayed and talked with the nurse practitioner about it and as much as she tried, she was not able to relieve my fear of hydrocephalus.  My girl has a big noggin and I still hope that's all it is, but I'm officially worried.  The only good news is that if it IS hydrocephalus, it's not a terrible case of it (or her head would already be gargantuan and she wouldn't be making her milestones so early) and it's treatable. 
3. At seven months, Genoa weighs 18 lbs, 2 oz (75th percentile) and is 27.5" long (90th percentile).  Her head is 45.4 cm.  She is trying SO HARD to get herself into a sitting position that I keep checking her for rug burns.  Her eyes are getting less blue, too, which I find more fascinating than disappointing.  Of course I think she is stunning, even with the big head:                                                 
4. I spent Friday morning maniacally trying to cross things off my to do list.  Medical bills? PAID.  TY Notes? WRITTEN and/or DRAWN.  Target bill? PAID.  Christmas returns? MOSTLY COMPLETED.  Gift certificates? SPENT.  I was on a roll.  I even made baby food for Genoa (again!  I swear that child is going to gobble us right out of house and home).  Why do I insist upon waiting until the last minute to finish everything?  YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE.
5. Dave and I have been so hard up for TV programming that after finishing season two of Deadwood, we went back and started watching season one, which we had skipped.  It was a brilliant idea.  It's excellent, even knowing already what's going to happen.

Now I'm off to make waffles and think about my new year's resolutions.  I'm feeling ambitious, so it should be interesting.

Christmas

I'm sure being a grown up sucks this much all year, but I really notice it more around Christmas.  SO MUCH LABOR.  Not that the reward (happy children!) isn't worth it, but it's just so unnecessarily stressful.  On Sunday Dave and I got into a GIGANTIC fight about which shelf the bread had been on in the fridge.  Stuff had been moved around and the casserole I was taking to my mom's house spilled (a TINY bit) and I proceeded to start World War 3 for no rational reason I can even think of.  Half way through the screaming I started laughing at the ridiculousness of all of it.  Next year I'm going to do everything in my power to make Christmas special without the stress.

We had to wake Alex up on Christmas morning because the baby woke up around eight and we needed to get the show on the road.  Alex joined us under the tree and was so filled with awe and wonder that I thought he was going to burst.  Three is the best age for Christmas.  He really, truly believed that the footprints Santa left were made of magic dust.  He even tried to eat it.

He was exuberant about every single present.  My favorite part of the day was when he would look up and exclaim, "LOOK MOM!  BATH CRAYONS!" or "LOOK MOM!  PAINT BRUSHES!  HOW COOL!" like that was the best thing in the whole world.  When he finally got to the big stuff - Power Rangers swords and monster trucks - he could barely stand it.  It took him almost two hours to open everything.

By noontime, Dave's family showed up and piled more presents under the tree and that's when the trouble began.  Only three of them were for Alex.  He opened his three and the rest of us were still opening stuff and he completely freaked out.  He wanted more presents.  I think he had just assumed that like earlier that morning, almost everything under the tree was for him.  He also REALLY needed a nap and never ended up taking one.  We comforted him, encouraged him to play with the buckets of toys he DID get and vowed to go a little easier on the quantity of stuff he receives next year.  We don't want to raise a greedy little poop.

Genoa was delightful throughout all of it.  She managed to smile at a house full of relatives on Christmas Eve and even let other people hold her without immediately freaking out.  At one point, my mom took her out on the deck where she couldn't see me and she played happily for at least ten minutes.  That's huge progress considering she spent Alex's entire birthday party strapped to my person.  Three months makes a huge difference.  The best part of my mom's party was when my cousin arrived with her nine month old daughter and Genoa fell in love with the other baby and started with the big smiles and laughs and that adorable leg pumping thing infants do that makes them look like they're riding you like a cowboy.  It was the cutest thing ever.

After all the presents were opened on Christmas morning, I tried to take a nap before Dave's family got here.   I couldn't sleep.  I just lay there awake and utterly filled with dread.  My fun was completely over.  Instead of hanging out and watching the kids play with their toys all day, I had to go start making Christmas dinner.  And now it's official:

I HATE COOKING.

I used to love it and look forward to doing it and enjoy the look on my husband's face when he loved something I fixed, but that part of me has died.  Temporarily, I hope, but it's absolutely dead right now.  We spent DAYS planning the meal for Christmas.  It's always prime rib, but Dave and I fight every. single. year about how big the stupid thing has to be (he insisted it be no smaller than 12.5 pounds and his mom ended up buying 14 pounds for only 5 adults!) and who's going to buy it and where and I HATE IT.  I told him that yesterday was the last time I planned to cook a big meal on Christmas day.  It's just not worth the effort for me.  John and Lynne brought the appetizers and her beautiful vegetable tree was the best thing we ate all day. 

By the time the meat was done and my mashed potatoes were finally finished, I wasn't even remotely hungry.  I had half a cup of mashed potatoes and no prime rib and then I got to do all the dishes!  I would honestly rather order a pizza and sit on the floor replacing batteries all day instead.  Next year...

Does anyone know where we can buy/download some children's stories for Alex?  Preferably the kind with cool sounds in the background like the 1940's radio programs?  We bought Alex a Cars movie CD player and I'm already tired of the soundtrack.  Life is a highway! Okay! We get it already!

Merry Christmas!

Today's TO DO list

As fetched off the kitchen table for me by a handsome three-year-old:

We're still working on "da-da"

I'm not sure which hurts more right now, my back or my feet.  I spent five hours at the mall on Wednesday in high-heeled boots (getting my fash-on) and came home to spend four additional hours sitting on the floor hunched over while wrapping presents. 

It turns out Christmas is ACHEY this year.

But that's not what I wanted to talk about, no, I want to talk about is how we have finally reached the crucial point in all parents-of-second-children's-lives when it becomes time. to. compare. All the books and websites say "all children reach milestones at their own pace, yada yada yada." You're not supposed to compare your children against your other children or the children of any other people, but we all do it anyway.  In fact, since having Alex, I've participated in about eleven thousand conversations with other parents and 99.9% of those conversations consisted exclusively of comparisons between our children. 

I started this blog when Alex was six months and three weeks old and Baby G is now seven months old.  Let the comparing begin!!

At six months, three weeks, Alex was:

-sitting up really well (although not yet getting to a sitting position by himself)
-pulling up from a sitting position (mainly onto the basket of the stroller or the back of the couch)
-standing up - every chance he gets (he gets mad when he has to sit)
-busting a move - wiggling/rolling around to get what he wants - not quite crawling yet
-babbling
-saying "da da da" and "ma ma ma" (although not yet knowing what they mean)
-eating solids
-teething - he has two already
-making a lot of noise
-screaming for no reason just to hear the sound of his voice
-grabbing at EVERYTHING he can get his hands on and putting it immediately into his mouth

A week ago we were a little freaked out.  At six months, three weeks, Genoa wasn't doing a lot of the stuff Alex could do at her age.  Not that there's really anything wrong with that, it was just something we noticed.  We hope all of our children are equally brilliant and advanced.

But this week!  Oh this week Genoa has amazed us.  She's started the I-MUST-STAND-UP phase, in which she will scream and scream and I will try everything to see what's bugging her - nursing, eating, water, sleep, etc, - only to find out that the only thing she wanted all along was to be put in a standing position.  Wednesday at my parent's house, she finally figured out how to put one foot in front of the other and move forward (while holding onto my hands).

Then, without help, she pulled herself up to a standing position using the side of the wicker toy basket and her fisher price piano.  Yesterday she pulled herself up on her exersaucer.  She started saying Ma-ma-ma-ma some time last weekend and says it EXACTLY like her brother did - when she's upset and wants to nurse.   In fact, I've bolded everything from Alex's list that Genoa is now doing and they are pretty much a week apart (which is funny because gestationally they are IDENTICAL - Alex was born a week later than Genoa, so he got a bonus week in utero.)

No matter what the books say, this is FUN.  I plan to keep tagging along reading my archives as Genoa grows up. 

A christmas list

1. I am still working on our Christmas newsletter.  It's going to suck this year because  I haven't been in the mood to write it.
2. Dave's car is finally for sale.
3. Alex is doing a little better.  He still won't take a nap (unless Dave or I bring him into our bed and let him fall asleep next to us), but I'm getting over that particular disappointment.  Two things are helping - 1) we reverted back to using the naughty spot instead of sending him to his room (where he just ended up playing) and 2) I've stopped being the nice guy.  I've always been a  mom who asked nicely first: "please pick up your toys."  It just doesn't work on Alex.  I have to provide a consequence for his lack of action, "pick up your toys or I'll put you on your naughty spot," or he completely ignores me.  Being mean is working, even if I hate it.  He sure is cute, though.                                                                                        
4. I rented a Rug Doctor on Saturday and steam cleaned our carpets with vinegar.  My arms still hurt, but it was worth the effort. [edited to add: I love using the Rug Doctor because you can go over your stains as many times as you like.  The vinegar worked just fine.  With Ms. G rolling around everywhere and sucking on everything, I really didn't want to use any chemicals, hence the DIY approach.  I still don't notice a smell, but I have a cold and at one point while I was doing the cleaning, I literally touched the vinegar bottle to my nose and took a big whiff and I still couldn't smell anything.  I had to taste it to make sure it wasn't just water.]
   
5. We had a little Christmas potluck dinner here last night.  My pomegranate martinis sucked (which didn't keep me from drinking a bunch of them), but the food was good.  I'm really going to miss all my friends after we move. 
6. Dave and I stayed up until after 1AM last night just laying in bed talking.  Being married to my best friend continues to be awesome.
7. I started Genoa on wheat last week.  According to the gastroenterologist, they can't even test a baby for celiac disease until he/she has been eating gluten for at least six months.  So far, so good.   Teething biscuits are a hit:
   
8. I bought this seemingly lovely locket for both of my moms for Christmas.  I'm returning them.  Because of its shape (round, not flat), it distorts any photo you put into it, which basically defeats its purpose.                                                       
9. I am no longer done with my Christmas shopping.

Bad boy

I'm having a hard day week.  Alex is starting to outgrow his daily afternoon nap and has become a total pain in the butt.  He's tired, but won't let himself fall asleep, so instead of a nap I get five hours of hell every day starting at 2PM.  Last night he was so naughty I ended up sending him to bed in the middle of dinner. 

By the time I finally gave up on today's nap and let him out of his room, I was halfway through a lengthy daydream about sending him to preschool full time.  I'm down to my last nerve.

The kind of stuff he's doing is mostly just annoying, but he's doing it in bulk, so it's completely intolerable.  Basically, anything I ask him to do, he won't.  If I tell him not to do something, he does it.  Immediately.  He hits the dog, puts sister's sole remaining binky in his mouth, jumps on the furniture, steals Genoa's toys, uses his milk like finger paint on the kitchen table, screams at me every time I try to correct him and even threatens me "You're being MEAN Mommy.  You're not getting ANY PRESENTS from Santa."

The only present I really want right now is a fricking nap.  The only reason I'm able to type this right now is because I sent him to his room for standing on his sister's toy piano literally THREE seconds after I scolded him for doing it the first time.  Then he kicked me!

Sometimes?  Being the mom sucks.

San Francisco C***sucker!

Dave and I just finished the second season of Deadwood on DVD.  Like all the other HBO series, this one is awesome and even though we try to pace ourselves to make it last longer, we end up watching it basically all in one sitting.  At first we had trouble figuring out what the hell was going on, but after the first episode, we solved that problem by turning on the subtitles, which made the entire deadwood experience that much more awesome.

Our favorite character, by far, but also with difficulty because there is no show on TV with better characters, is Swearangen (Swedgin!) and our favorite scenes are undoubtedly those in which he rattles plot off the top of his head while receiving fellatio from his favorite prostitute ("you know she's f***ed for food.")  The series is just lovely, but not one I'd enjoy watching with my grandparents. 

My favorite quote came last night from EB Farnum, with a leg lifted to help him clench his cheeks:

"Allow me a moment's silence Mr. Hearst.  Sir, I am having a digestive crisis and must focus on suppressing its expression."

Boy has my back

Yesterday the kids and I went out Christmas shopping while Dave got his old Jetta smogged and oil changed (anyone want to buy a sweet and much beloved '00 Jetta?).  While Alex and I were busying ourselves picking out the perfect Dad toy, Dave called and asked us to pick him up all the way across town.  Because, get this, it was going to take a whole hour for them to finish his smog check.  Basically, he wanted me to pack up the kids, drive twenty minutes, pick him up, drive him home, unpack the kids, wait ten minutes, pack the kids back up and then drive him back to pick up his car. 

It was a ridiculous request and I told him so.  But when Dave scoffed at my apparent indifference to his suffering the next sixty minutes alone (oh the humanity! what I wouldn't give for an hour of smog check waiting room solace!), I caved and asked for directions to the shop.  Which he couldn't provide.  All he gave me was a street address.  "It's at 461 El Camino."  For those of you not from California, I should note that the El Camino Real is long.  It runs from Mexico to San Francisco and is one of the few major thoroughfares I've ever been on in which the street numbers switch from odd to even on both sides of the street.  So Dave narrowed it down for me: "It's on El Camino, in Mountain View."

I hung up on him and then Alex, the baby and I scurried through the checkout at Bed, Bath and Beyond, sat in horrible, rainy, it's-Saturday-with-only-ten-shopping-days-left traffic (I'm convinced that Christmas, in and of itself, somehow converts otherwise sane drivers into complete f-ing morons) while Genoa fussed and fussed and finally fell asleep in her carseat, and then drove three miles along El Camino looking for the stupid smog check place only to pull up, not see Dave's car there and call the place from the parking lot to find out that they finished Dave's car and HE HAD ALREADY LEFT.  Dave forgot his cellphone, so I couldn't call him to tear him a new one, but I did a whole lot of angry ranting under my (apparently not so silent) breath.

We went out to Babies R Us, did some more shopping, sat on Santa's lap and swung home.  I put Alex down for his nap and when he woke up, he stomped IMMEDIATELY up to Dave and chastised him without prompt, but with the most AWESOME hand gestures for emphasis (which I had to imagine from Dave's account since I was in the other room changing a diaper),

"Daddy, you were bad.  You went to have your oil changed and we went to the dumb place and you weren't there!  And you know what else you did that was bad?  You didn't take your cell phone!"

The entire thing made my heart boil with pride.  I had already ripped Dave a new one and gotten my own apology, so the rest was just icing.

Christmas photo, part deux

Okay, so we started with this:

Moved on to this:

And ended up with this:

Although, I'm really not sure about which of the second two I prefer.  I really REALLY LOVE the beach thing.  LOVE IT.  But I'm not fond of the way the lighting turned out*.  At all.  The third photo is perhaps the best photo of Alex I've ever taken, because it's the way I see him when I look at him.  But the girl is cute, but not as spectacularly beautiful as she is when she smiles.

What say you?

*Is it me, or is it impossible to photograph children in full sunlight?  If you get them facing the light, they're all squinty-eyed, but if you get them with the light behind them (like I did) you get shadows on their faces.  I bet there's some obvious way to get around this that I've overlooked, but DAMN.  I thought those beach pictures were going to be so perfect and I can't tell you how disappointed I am that they're not.  I did get this shot, though, and I have practically already ordered the frame for it: