Just Another Manic Update: Birthdays, Bananas, and Battle of the Bulge

Where do I even begin? Probably the beginning.

James: 
I knew two years ago, when bragging to a friend, that you sleep like the dead, that I would one day pay for it. The day has arrived. You fight bedtime like it's the plague, and we have gotten ourselves into a terrible routine. You don't like going to bed. You don't like your room. You want to sleep with mom and dad (NO!). You need another drink of water. You're hungry. You have to poop (which you always seem to announce LOUDLY). It is never ending. We have tried stickers, reward programs, letting you stay up later, and everything you could possibly think of to bribe you. Nothing. Nada. You refuse to go to bed at a decent time. Then, some days, you are so tired we can't keep you awake, so you take a nap. It doesn't matter if it's 10 minutes or an hour, if you nap, you are up until the wee hours of the night. Which is hard on mom. If I had my way, I would go to bed when Drew does at 8 or 9. But nope, 10:00 p.m. rolls around and you are still awake. I have tried cutting out sugar, reading more, letting you watch a movie on your tablet. Finally, after wracking my brain, I thought that maybe you have some sort of weird separation anxiety. So like any reasonable, responsible adult, I googled the shit out of it (my M.O. don't forget), and low and behold, I guess it's a thing. And it started to happen right before Drew got here. I am hoping you will grow out of it, but every night, it's a battle. Most nights, we just wait until you pass out wherever you decide and then move you to your bed. It has been as soon as only a couple of hours later, and you're in our bed with us. It drives me nuts, because I will also pull Drew into bed with me in the wee hours of the night to nurse laying down, so I can at least REST, and all of a sudden there are four people in our king-size bed. Drives. Me. Crazy. I really hope this doesn't last, and I am really hoping that summer will take care of it when the "big kids" are at daycare with you. Ugh.

Otherwise, you are a picky eater (compared to Catherine, who LOVES steak and pork chops - weird!) and you're very smart. You pick up on things quickly and use that to your advantage as much as possible. You hear popcorn popping at 9:30 because breastfeeding mommy is hungry? Down the stairs you come, ready to tell me you happen to be hungry.

I am trying not to be a hardass for a parent, but at the same time, I am definitely a hard ass. I don't take shit, and it breaks my heart when I tell him he needs to go to his room. He will say things like, "You are not being nice to me, mom!" You're right. I'm not being nice to you, son. Because it's my responsibility as your mother to make sure you don't grow up to be stupid. So, if I have to be mean this one time (or multiple times), then so be it. But on the other hand, when we shut his door to put him in time out in his room, he freaks out. I mean, FREAKS out. Screams about monsters and how he's scared. I honestly think he's afraid that we won't come back to get him, or something. It's rather bizarre. The other night, he climbed into bed with us while nursing Drew (pretty sure Drew's crying woke him up) and he told me he had a dream that he was on a school bus with the "big kids" and the school bus made him get off and then he couldn't find his way home. And while he's telling me this, he honest-to-God started crying. At 2:30 a.m. I was crushed. I felt so terrible for him! So I really believe there is some sort of fear there that we are going to leave and not come back. Once Drew and Catherine go to bed, James is on me like a fat kid on cake. He will not let me out of his sight. If I go downstairs to get something to drink and happen to take too long talking to Eric, he will come down adn find me and tell me he was worried because he didn't know where I was. So I think there's something there, but I really don't know what to do except let it run it's course.

Catherine:
Oh my, little girl, it has been a wild ride the past few weeks. We had your MRI, plus your allergy appointment. It was terrible to see them put you under for the MRI, but I am glad we got it done. Turns out, you have fluid in your inner ear (I was right, you asshole ENT doctor!). Why? Because of allergies, which we found out you have. But not environmental allergies, like we thought. You are allergic to... *drum roll* fucking bananas. Seriously? Milk and bananas, the two things you have at daycare EVERY DAY. We took milk out of your diet, but since it's such a low class, the allergist suggested just regular milk, cheese, milk based products like sour cream, but if it has milk baked into it, like cake or something else I cannot think of right now, you should be ok. Then we find out you're allergic to BANANAS? Again, seriously? I could not believe it. And what's even funnier is that you chow down bananas like they are going out of style. So obviously, we are no longer giving you bananas. Your runny noses are gone and the allergist said the fluid from her inner ear is most likely gone as well. You are honestly a very different little girl, even from a week ago. It finally seems like you are happy.

We have been working with the speech pathologist - she is more or less training us than she is working with Catherine. You can now make duck noises, pant like a dog (which is hilarious) say yes, mom and dad, and you have several noises for objects, but no actual words. But it's a start. I am excited to see how this summer goes.

Today was your second birthday. You weren't too excited about your gifts, but you LOVED your cake! And even though James blew out your candles, you seemed to really enjoy being sung to. You are so, SO sweet and love being a "mom." You have your babies that you carry with you everywhere, and you love pushing your little stroller around, putting them in it and throwing them to the ground a few feet later. You love helping me with Drew, including finding his pacifier and blanket any time I am holding him. You are SUCH a lover and you have the biggest heart.

You are starting to run, which looks more like a linebacker than a little girl, but you love to run around with James. You also love to play with the "big kids" but of course, it's difficult for you to keep up. They love playing with you (until you get tired and whiny!) and you love the attention. You could be pushed around in a stroller or pulled in a wagon ALL DAY LONG. You just sit like a little queen and enjoy the attention from everyone.

You are still small, still wearing 18 month clothes, but you are growing. We are moving forward, and from a year ago, that's huge.

Drew: 
I just updated everyone (no one?) on your 3 months, but I can't believe how much you have changed in the course of these 3.5 months. Sunday night was a nightmare and I happened to see every hour on the clock. It was tough, and the next night was almost as bad, but Tuesday into Wednesday, you let me sleep for about 5 hours, which I so appreciated. I felt like a new person on Wednesday! You love cluster feeding at night, which kills me, but I deal with it. By about 9:00 p.m. I am touched out. Which is difficult because that's when James is getting REALLY clingy, and I can hardly handle it. Eric has been fairly good about things though, which is helpful. Sometimes I have to remind him that I can't do it all and he can't just let me do it all, but every once in awhile, he surprises me, and for that, I am thankful. Like tonight. I am blogging while you, Drew-boo, are downstairs, asleep in Eric's arms because while I was in the shower, you started crying. It seems like my one 20 minute shower every night is the only time I can get away. Which brings me to my next header...

Touched. Out.
I told Eric tonight I would like to go 10 minutes without someone needing something from me. Tonight, when we were packing up to go get our new couch (yay! new furniture!), I told Eric I was going to park in the street so he could easily back up the driveway to unload our couch. He said, "You should park behind the trailer." No. I don't want to fucking park behind the trailer. I want to park in the fucking street. I hate parking behind the trailer. I have to get out in the grass, and then the next morning, I have to walk through wet grass, with nice shoes, just to get into my car. And my car sticks out into the sidewalk, so it's hard to see the kids when they are running from one house to the next with the neighbors. So no. I don't need you telling me where to park my damn car! My dad used to do that too, and it would drive me nuts. "You should......" NO. I shouldn't do anything you want me to! I didn't ask for your damn suggestion! Overall, I just want people to not need something from me, or tell me what to do, for like, 10 fucking minutes. I just need 10. fucking. minutes. Ugh!

Mobility Yoga and PT Graduation
I had to skip last week's mobility yoga because something happened (not sure what, I can't remember back that far) and I couldn't make it. Ahh, yes. I forgot my damn milk at school, in a cooler without an ice pack. So I had to go back for it. Damnit! So I missed my second yoga class, but was able to go this past Monday. It was awesome. After a night from hell with Drew, a day from hell at school, I honestly did not want to go. But I am so glad I did. I'm not really into that whole namaste shit, but it was awesome to stretch my body and feel good while doing it. Then I had physical therapy on Wednesday and tadaaa! I graduated! I can officially feel my leg! And my foot! Although as I sit right now on this bed, it's tingling, but I'm sure it has to do with the fact that I'm sitting poorly. But seriously. I finally feel like I can walk normally, although it still takes a bit to get going from the sitting position, but I feel much more limber. I am going to look into yoga classes for the summer.

Battle of the Bulge
I am still at the weight I was when I blogged the last time after having the flu. Which is not a huge deal, since I figured I would bounce back up a bit after I started eating. But honestly, I am about 14 pounds from where I want to be, and that's pretty good. I still hate how I look and dressing this body is difficult, but I can honestly say I am starting to really tell a difference between the same clothes that were once pretty tight to now where they fit me snugly. Especially my nursing tops that I got right after I gave birth. Those are getting fairly loose, to the point where they shift in the middle of the night and I leak all over. It's awesome. So I've pulled out some of my old ones from post-Catherine and they are still a little tight, but better that than too big!

The Kitchen
Our kitchen backsplash came in, and I am excited for Eric to start putting it up. I can't believe we actually found one we both liked, but we also talked with a designer who led us away from glass tile and to natural stone back splash. And BOOM, that was it. Also, Eric got a huge discount for being a contractor and working out some deal that he would have his clients now pick their stone from this particular place. So I guess there are perks to having a home that is never finished: a contractor-husband who can get you good deals. All in all, we have done our kitchen remodel for about $8000 and our bathroom remodel for about $2000. Considering Eric would charge anywhere from $40-50,000 for our kitchen remodel in someone else's home, I think it's safe to say we are definitely ahead. It's nice to have almost 50% equity in a home. And once again, we are doing it all on our own. Buying a "fixer-upper" was the smartest thing we could have done for ourselves.

So that's it. Life is constantly moving, and I am always feeling like there truly aren't enough hours in a day, but summer is almost here, and life will slow down a bit. And for that, I am thankful!