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Tag Archives: toddlerhood

Welcome back, old self. It only took 16 months. That’s like low term in state prison.

Welcome back, old self. It only took 16 months. That’s like low term in state prison.

It’s been over a year since I’ve blogged.

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I’ve been meaning to blog, but with the birth of my second child, I just haven’t felt up to it. Blogging was constantly on my mind, but it was hard for me to do it. Honestly, going back to writing is about as awkward, unsettling, and weird as having sex for the first time after giving birth (if you don’t know what I mean, read Erin Donovan’s “Dead Vagina Walking” to get caught up to speed). Plus, there was just so much to write about I honestly didn’t know where to start.

Since blogging about all that I had wanted to write about in the past year would take forever, so I’ve just made a timeline. Here’s a year of my life, condensed:

12/2013: I give birth to #2! After laboring at home and giving up because my beloved husband FELL ASLEEP while I was dancing to speed things up, we end up at the hospital, 6cm dilated and me yelling for an epidural because 1) holy oxytocin, back labor and 2) I was so desperate for sleep.

Eight hours later, my husband would help deliver a sunny side up, 7 pound 3 ounce baby girl. Unlike with my first baby, the moment they put Juliette into my arms, I was in love. Unlike with my first, I was not overwhelmed with the knowledge that I was now responsible, legally, morally and otherwise, for a tiny human being whose survival depended on me. Instead, I felt proud and confident. The past nine months had been terrible, both physically and emotionally, but after giving birth I felt amazing.

dancegome

Of course, no way could I ACTUALLY do this immediately after giving birth.

1/2014: On New Year’s Day, we go to Disneyland with my son and my brand new baby girl. Being in the hospital had been terribly tough on Tiny Boss, and I wanted to do something special for him. Unfortunately, this turns out to be a horrible idea and I end up with a sick, feverish infant and several sleepless nights. Those sleepless nights haven’t disappeared, by the way.

2/2014: I am pumping so I can save milk for Tinier Boss because FFS, she is going on the bottle as soon as we get her two month shots. I am NOT making the same mistake I did with her older brother (who never took a bottle and therefore I never got a break).

3/2014: I have way too much milk because she’s not on the bottle. I’m going to start donating milk. Or maybe I should sell it. I found a website that puts you in touch with parents who need milk. This person is willing to pay $2/ounce for fresh, unfrozen milk. I’m pumping 6-12 ounces a day. I am literally a cash cow! Wait, not a cow. Poor choice of words.

Later in 3/2014: I make $20 selling breast milk! After emailing the buyer, who promises to be discreet (ok?), we meet at Starbucks.

You’re K.C.?”

whaaa

Fine. Maybe he’s a dad? But a few hours after we meet up, K.C. texts me, “Your milk is delicious.”

ewBut maybe I shouldn’t judge because thanks to Google, I’ve learned that some cancer patients drink breast milk (it is full of nutrients and extremely easy to digest). Also, some bodybuilders do it too, although based solely on appearance, this guy wasn’t a bodybuilder . . . I speculate that I have sold 10 ounces of my breastmilk to an adult baby (thanks Wikipedia!).

4/2014: I am still disappointed that I can’t make money with my boobs.

sad

What happens to a dream deferred?

8/2014: We travel to Mexico with both kids by plane.

Vacationing with tiny humans is awesome!

Vacationing with tiny humans is awesome!

The kids do awesome and I am proud. On the return flight we are stuck in a holding pattern for almost two hours due to bad weather and no one under the age of three in my row has a meltdown. On the other hand, our surrounding passengers must have been coming back from a convention for assholes. I regret not being a Tom Clancy fan; otherwise I could yell out spoilers at the man sitting next to me pretending to read but he can’t due to the amount of eye rolling going on. Bless his heart, he can’t seem to stop alternating between rolling his eyes and huffing like he’s trying to get to the head of the Hometown Buffet line. dwight

Next time I board a plane with kids, I’m printing out required reading (including this and this) to pass out. How’s that for goody bags?

booobitch9/2014: My son is potty trained! I’m forever grateful for the 3 Day Potty Training method.

At first, this is awesome, but then the realization that my schedule is now ruled by his bladder (or worse) quickly sets in. I learn the importance of always knowing the location of a bathroom or a good bush wherever I go and accumulate bad juju for the number of times we have peed on the seat or elsewhere (shudder). I spend good money on a Kalencom portable potette that is used and accepted by every American toddler except for ours.

11/2014: Flu season has set in. You know what’s worse than being sick with one kid? You guessed it.

12/2014: Baby girl is one year old. I can’t believe a year went by.

And that’s what I’ve been up to since I last blogged.

IMG_9513Actually, it wasn’t that bad getting back into writing. Stay tuned for my next post, which will be about transitioning from one to two kids, and the number of new gray hairs that have coincidentally sprouted at the same time.

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10 Rules Toddlers Live By That Are Designed to Break Your Spirit

Someday, with any luck, my kid will read this post and thank me.

And also one day, with any luck, my kid will read this blog and thank me.

10) Once a routine has been established and you’ve both settled into it, that’s when the toddler will decide the routine is no longer valid.

9) Diaper blowouts will always be more likely to occur in the car seat than at home. This doubly applies to infants.

8) Events you schedule in advance at certain times suddenly and inexplicably become the prime napping time.
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7) The more tired you are, the less likely it is your toddler will go down for a nap without a fight.

6) Toddlers (and infants) have adult sized farts, adult sized poops, and generate as much laundry as twelve adults.

5) The best place for a tantrum is always in public.

4) No matter how clean your house is, they will find something gross to stick into their mouths, like dead flies or year-old-raisins from under the couch cushion.

3) They refuse to understand the concept of “no” until they’re old enough to loudly, and forcefully, repeat it themselves.

Toddler octopus

Toddler octopus

2) Sharing is caring, but toddlers are selfish little miscreants.

1) Your comfort is always, always, inversely proportional to theirs. This means they’re the most comfortable when you’re standing up and less when you’re sitting down. If you’re actually laying down, you better get used to being perfectly still and ridiculously quiet, like you’re hunting wabbits.

Don't move. The baby's sleeping.  Source: http://dailypicksandflicks.com/

Don’t move. The baby’s finally asleep.
Source: http://dailypicksandflicks.com/

Silly Lady, Don’t You Know You Can Only Drug Your Own Kids?

Photo by Posterize at Freedigitalphotos.com

Photo by posterize at freedigitalphotos.com

A couple weeks ago, a daycare worker in Morgan Hill, CA, was arrested for allegedly trying to drug the kids in her charge with Sominex, an over-the-counter sleeping pill.

According to the San Jose Mercury News, the 59-year-old woman “admitted that she placed an over-the-counter sleep medication into the cups.”

But wait! The exact same thing apparently also happened in Texas less than two years ago.

What?

The daycare worker in that instance was arrested for allegedly actually giving the kids – ages 20 months to four years – milk laced with over-the-counter antihistamines. The woman in the California case was apparently in charge of the toddlers between the ages one to two.

As the mother of a thriving, active, food-throwing, headache-inducing, dog whistle-mimicking, sleep-depriving 13.5 month old little boy, I can see where the woman is coming from. Sort of.

I mean, there are days where I find myself chugging coffee at 6pm because I just can’t keep up with Tiny Boss otherwise.  Days where I start fantasizing paying for a babysitter just so I can close my eyes for half an hour. Where my lower back begins to ache from overwork despite my best attempts to use my glutes and hammies to deadlift the 22-pound Tiny Boss up into my arms when he so demands, and the demands can be often.

A little Ambien in the applesauce, and none the wiser.

A little Ambien in the applesauce, and none the wiser.

But I would never, ever, ever drug him (or any other kid) with sleeping pills. The idea is just beyond me. But then again, I don’t even give Tiny Boss anything with artificial colors, unlike my in-laws, who have a tendency to feed him Fruit Loops.

Or so I say now. I guess one thing I have learned from parenthood is that “never” doesn’t mean crap. Ask me two years ago if I would be a stay at home mom and I would have said laughed and said no. Ask me that same question 10 years ago and I would have probably kneed you in the crotch.

And here I am today. Granted, a WAHM, but I wouldn’t want to work at an office and have to place Tiny Boss in daycare. So who knows, maybe in thirty years I’ll be dissolving Benadryl into my toddler grandkids’ Kool-aid and Tang.

Remind Me Again, Why Do I Want a Second One?

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If I feel like this and I only have one kid . . .

I am so exhausted. Yeah, I know. Every mom is exhausted.

But today is just one of those special days where you feel like you slept on a bed made of lincoln logs and legos, and someone added Xanax to your coffee. Actually, I didn’t have any coffee today, but Xanax would probably help.

At toddlerhood, or around the age of 1, our children start going from two naps to one. I know this because I read it on Facebook (everything on Facebook is true) and I’m assuming that’s what is happening to Tiny Boss. But it’s just so tiring.

Now that it’s been 13 months, Tiny Boss has finally mentally beaten me into submission and I no longer expect things like uninterrupted sleep, pooping in peace, or a clean house. Taking him out to eat will always result in unprovoked screaming, food on the ground, and myself wondering why I am still taking him out to restaurants.

So why do I want a second one? This must be the answer:

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