I AM A TERRIBLE MOTHER!

Just kidding - I'm not. But it feels like it.

Ages 3 and 1 have gone by, we're already in June, and I have yet to have an update on really anything that is happening in our lives. But first, the main thing, from which I am taking a break, because I damn well deserve it.

I'm getting rid of my baby stuff. Which means, NO MORE KIDS. In fact, that is the name of the yard sale I decided to have. I have advertised on Facebook swap sites with that particular name, the Des Moines Register with that particular name, and my signs that will lead people to a baby goodies paradise says "NO MORE KIDS!" (and other stuff) YARD SALE!

It began when a colleague of mine, who took a job in Nebraska, said he was having a moving sale. I thought it was a pretty good idea, and although we frequent the donation door at Goodwill, I figured I would look around our house to see what we don't use anymore now that Catherine is one and we have decided not to have any more kids.

As I looked around, I realized just how much stuff I have. A video baby monitor, the Baby Bullet, a bumbo chair, a jumparoo, an activity chair, TOYS and MORE TOYS, stuffed animals, a CRIB for God's sakes, TWO breast pumps, bottles and bottles and bottles, oh my! Bibs, blankets, burp cloths. Then I started to really take a look around. We have a leather la-z-boy recliner that just sits in our basement, taking up room where the kids COULD be playing. We have a window air conditioner unit we used for a SUMMER while Eric was working on our vents up to our bedroom when James was just born. We have an inversion table Eric has used three times. We have SO MUCH SHIT in our house.

So I began tagging and bagging and hanging and pricing. It has been a tough two weeks, but it helps that I was done with school last week and this is the kids' last full week of daycare. So I've been working non-stop. Cleaning things that need to be dusted off, washed out and polished.

So there you have it. I am getting rid of all our kids clothes, my diaper bag (so long, Juicy Couture diaper bag... you've been good to me...), portable changing mat, CLOTH DIAPERS for crying out loud. I am also decluttering, and to a type A personality such as myself, it FEELS SO GOOD.

While I was getting ready for this garage sale, I've also been taking Catherine to the last or the beginning of her appointments. She had her last gastroenterology appointment, at which he asked me why I thought things were going better. I told him I honestly think the three day cleanse (which was horrible nasty to clean up after!) worked wonders, and since then, a combo of whole milk and real food. That's right, I stopped breastfeeding at 10.5 months.

I am sad I didn't make it to my goal of a year, but looking back, I realize how stressed out I was over it. It was hard to keep up with supply, pump 2-3 times a day, always be on deck in case Catherine ever got hungry. Switching her to whole milk at 10.5 months was the best thing I could have done for myself. Breastfeeding was beautiful and I loved those moments with Catherine, but it was also incredibly hard, stressful and for this agenda-driven human being, tough. I, and my family, am so much happier since we can just give her milk in a bottle and chop up some bread, pears, and peas.

The gastroenterologist gave us a clean bill of health and sent us on to our next appointment, which was physical therapy. At her initial GI appointment, he mentioned he was concerned about her low muscle tone in her legs. When he asked if anyone else had said anything about being concerned, I replied with, "YES. Several people, but no one seems to do anything about it." So he immediately made a referral for us to have a consult at Blank Pediatric Physical Therapy. Only, guess what? Insurance demands a 20% coinsurance, with deductible and max out-of-pocket, which meant we would have to pay about $300 for an appointment. Why? Because it's part of a HOSPITAL. But if we went to a free-standing facility, we would only have a $10 co-pay. So we tried getting a referral to one of Blank's suburban FREE-STANDING facilities, but since it has the word BLANK attached to it, it's considered Blank's Children's Hospital. What the hell, Blue Cross? So finally, we got a last referral to ChildServe in Johnston, which is an actual freestanding facility, and thus, up to 20 appointments are covered in full. Hallelujah.

The physical therapist said she has great upper body strength, but she has a hard time pushing up on those hands and knees, because of her low muscle tone. We were given some exercises and will continue physical therapy twice a week until the end of summer. Hopefully then, she will be pulling herself up on things and maybe even walking.

Catherine's 1 year appointment went well - she had gained 2 pounds and is now in the 9th percentile for weight, but off the bottom of the chart for height. And she is a peanut, weighing in at 16.5 pounds at her appointment and 17.5 pounds at her GI visit on Monday. But, my goodness, are you a happy baby. You love giving kisses, waving bye-bye (all the way out of the hospital on Monday, you were waving. Down one floor, through the plaza, and through the parking garage. It was adorable!), and exploring new things. Your current obsession are doors. You love to watch them swing back and forth and frequently manipulate them for minutes on end.

You absolutely LOVE your brother. He is definitely your favorite person, and it's adorable to see. He makes you laugh, sometimes makes you cry, but overall, he loves waking you up in the morning and oftentimes, when you do wake up, you smile at him and reach for him. I hope this bond between you two stays strong and full of love, because it's  amazing for this mama to watch.

There is no doubt that James is definitely 3 and definitely a boy. He loves dirt, playing with the water, reading books and doing his puzzles. And, of course, helping mom and dad with "Baby Baffrin." He is speaking so well now, and a lot of phrases we hear over and over are:

"Leave that/me/her alone!"
"I want to do it myself!"
"Let me go first!"
"I want to ___________"
"Hold my hand!"
"I want to cuddle with mom."
"Baby! Baby Baffrin!"

And yes, most of these are accompanied by an exclamation mark. We are getting past the stage of suggesting things, "We should go wash our hands" to providing options, "Do you want to wash your hands in the kitchen sink, or the bathroom sink?" It takes a completely DIFFERENT kind of patience when dealing with options.

James has begun sleeping in his twin bed, so we gave his crib to Catherine, since it matches her changing table, and are selling Catherine's crib at my NO MORE KIDS (and other stuff) YARD SALE. Hope it sells.

But anyway, I digress.

Sleeping in a big boy bed must be kind of scary, because about a month ago, James started coming into our room to try and slip into our bed. I am an adamant, NO KIDS IN OUR BED kind of mom, but will admit there have been a few times that I must have been so tired that I just fell right back to sleep. (Eric sleeps through everything, so it's usually me that gets to deal with this). One time, I woke up nearly falling off the bed, with James head digging into my side, and Eric on the other side (of our King bed, mind you), nearly falling off the bed, and laying on James' feet. The kid is the most restless sleeper, my God!

So last night, I told James that if he comes into our room to try and sleep in the bed, he would have to just sleep on the floor and that would be no fun because the floor isn't comfy like his big boy bed. That backfired... I spent the next half hour trying to get James to get off our bedroom floor. But yet, he would demand, "I want to sleep on the floor!" Oh shit. Good work, mom.

Finally, I got him into bed, and tried another tactic.

The kid loves puzzles. I mean, loves them. He loves putting the pieces in, and always cheers for himself. Sometimes we have to help if it's a newer puzzle he's not so familiar with, but other times, he's really quite good at it (much like Eric is). We have one puzzle in his room we usually do before we read books, which is before we go to bed. I told him if he came into our room that night and didn't sleep in his big boy bed, we would have to take his Thomas the Train puzzle away. He seemed to understand and went to bed.

Nope. 3:30 a.m. here is my little blue-eyed devil staring at me from the side of the bed. Which is, no joke, sometimes very creepy because our bed sits really high, so it literally sits at his eye level. So when I open my eyes, I am eye-to-eye with him. In the middle of the night. In the dark. It's sometimes really scary!

And of course, what happens? I fucking fall back asleep!!! Parent of the year, right here. He must have crawled in anyway, because I woke up at 5:00 a.m. with a small body wrapped around mine, and sweating profusely from all the body heat.

Luckily, I woke him up and put him back to bed, explaining again about the puzzle. That seemed to work, so we'll see if it works again!

Another HUGE major milestone: James has FINALLY begun pooping in the fucking toilet. I thought we would never see the day, but on his third birthday, it finally did. FINALLY. FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY!

We took BACK out his potty training toilet, because I thought maybe the idea of pooping in the bigger toilet was somewhat intimidating, so I told him if he wanted, he could poop in his toilet. We set it out in his room for about a week, with a no go. We didn't press him, just reminded him that if he needed to go, to do it in that toilet, not his pull up. The damn kid was waiting for night-time, when he would have his pull-up on, to poop. Then he would come down and tell us he pooped, and we would have to change his pull-up. We went through a lot of pull-ups.

So his third birthday, we put him to bed, and low-and-behold, he comes downstairs to tell me he pooped not even 5 minutes later. So I reluctantly go upstairs, grumbling because I have to wipe a poopy butt, and there it was. One big, glorious poop sitting in his toilet.

I screamed, jumped up and down, hugged and kissed him several times, and then we went and got a freezie-pop for a special prize.

After that, James kept pooping in his toilet. Every night, like clockwork, we put him to bed. He strips off his clothes and poops, then comes to tell us. Unfortunately, we still have the treat thing working against us with the freezie-pops, but what's a freezie-pop before bed in the summer, really? I'm over it. As long as he keeps pooping in the toilet!

He hasn't successfully gone on the big toilet, and he has never pooped in front of us. I've started figuring out his cues when he needs to poop, because we'll be getting ready for bed, and in the middle of the book, he will say to me, "Night-night mom!" That's my cue to leave so he can poop. Hilarious.

Last thing about James, and then I have to get back to tagging and bagging shit. He has finally started to say, "I love you, mom." It absolutely melts my heart every time while simultaneously making it bigger. The love I have for my kids is something I have never known and to have one of them reciprocate it makes me feel like the luckiest lady in the world. I am so thankful for this beautiful life.

Yard sale, here I come!