Where's mah blanket??

I lost Mackenzie's baby blanket at the Tacoma Macy's yesterday.  The one I crocheted for her that took me hours and hours to complete and I brought her home from the birth center in.  NOTHING PERSONAL OR ANYTHING!!  I retraced my steps and looked everywhere and asked every cashier and employee I saw and called lost and found and called them again this morning and nothing.  I really hope it turns up.  I was going to keep that blanket until the end of time.

Mackenzie, 8 hours old

...and 2 months old

...and five months old.

To put things in perspective, I had one of those long, terrible, inescapable dreams last night that it was Mackenzie who was missing and not her blanket.  But I can't help it, I'm still sad!  It's just the ONE really personal thing that I loved having for her.  She's my last baby, damnit!  That was her blanket!  I have to go now.  I'm going to go to the Tacoma mall and kick everyone I see!!

UPDATE:  Everybody be cool!  Resume regular activity!  Shawn found it.  I think he was a little desperate because his wife suddenly turned into a freaking lunatic over a blanket.  He checked every register at Macy's while he was out Christmas shopping today.  Yay!  And wow.  I love that blanket a little too much, I think.

Um... Merry Christmas!!  hehe

A Wise Man Once Told Me...

I feel so cheated.  I feel so absolutely cheated out of naptime today.  Do you know what I did?  I spent naptime reading people's advice on internet forums.
When will I learn?  My only intent was to see if there were any decent articles regarding a whining issue with a 2-year-old.  Casey has been whining quite a bit the last couple weeks and I wanted to check out some ideas that I may not have tried yet.  BIG MISTAKE.  Turns out, people who spend time doling out advice on the internet are completely unreasonable douchebags with really low IQs. Here, take a look at the responses this poor mother received when she posted the simple question, "What are some tips to stop my 5-year-old from whining so much?" 


(I take no responsibility for the grammatical dipshittery you are about to witness, as I copied and pasted all comments):


"Let him whine. As long as he knows it bothers you, he'll keep doing it."

"Have you asked him why he is winnging give him big cuddles he is upset about somthing".  (Let's go ahead and assume that the person seeking advice from the internet never tried that.)

"From a simple behavioral standpoint, what should do to decrease your child's negative behavior is to first of all establish what is the antecedent (what happens right before) and what happens right after (the consequence of this behavior) in order to you to change this. Try by telling your son in a calm, but strict tone, "No whining." Praise him and give him something desirable, like your undivided attention as soon as he stops whining."  (not much to say about this one, 'cept it annoyed the crap out of me.)

"he could sick and you don't know it take him to see a dr"

"when u c that yr child is calm approach them with arm out sitting on the floor and say to them i love u very much sweety plz tell mummy what is that is upsetting u . but if u feel u tried these suggestions & u don't get no where then u need to seek 2nd opinion i.e doctor paedotrition or take yr kid down yr local early child hood center.  Hope my suggestions where helpful."  (I'm not sure, but... probably not?)

"are you spoiling the child? If so, you need to stop!"

"First you must realize you are a parent so please take responsibility and take the good with the bad."  (Thanks, Asshole.)

"He is whining bcoz he needs ur attention.Just u need to be calm & understand him."  (I mean, that's all.  Come on, Mom!)

"Have him checked for allergies." 

"A break sounds good. Please remember that until recently we (humans) lived in extended families and no one was responsible for a small, demanding (and children are by nature childish and demanding) child 24/7/365. Find a way to trade off with other women in similar situations."  (I actually like this comment.  You are awesome, internet stranger.)

"kids lie to feel important to. let him he is a big boy .praise him for the little things he do make him feel important and always talk to him like he is a big boy never talk baby talk."  (I think you're on the wrong forum, freakshow.)

"please check his HB count.  Also, calamine lotion is a good soother and so is paxyl for any kind of burn."  (um.........)

"take the toys away takee eveything he injoys away until he learns to shut it."  (I see where you're going with that, but I think I might call CPS anyway.) 

"I have a 11 year old that still whine, however, she does have some ment health problems."

"The question is why is he whining? Have you moved recently? If so, does he miss his friends? If so, have him call them to set up a play date (after you and their mom have already done so)."  (that is some random and off-the-wall shit.)

"Paint the nails, color your hair, perm your hair or even a bubble bath with your favorite candles burning will help."

(And this comment was written as a response to an article that called the 2-year-old example 'she', probably just so they didn't have to use 'he/she' constantly...):   "Actually, the only place where it refers to a male child at all is when they have the real example. The rest refers to only 'she' children." 


Duuuude.  Can you believe that I learned nothing today, and that Casey is still whining this evening?  From now on, I think I'm just going to watch Dr. Phil for my education.

Somebody open me up a mutha-f*#kin' bottle of wine!!

And then stand the hell back, 'cause I'm drinking the whole thing!
It's mid-October, which means Shawn is on his hunting vacation.  Hehe.  Bwah ha haaaaa!!  HAAA HAAA HAAAAAA!! Sorry, inside argument joke.  Anyway... Meredith offered to take the boys all morning long, so I went out for a Girls' Day with Kinney Kinz.  We went to the mall, we each bought a dress ($16 for mine, yo!), I got a latte, we popped by the grocery store and didn't lose our ever-loving shit over the candy at the register, and when Meredith brought the boys back, it was almost  naptime..........  but tonight, I STILL lost my cool and sent Colton to bed without dessert!
Now, before you think I am a spoiled monster, I will give you a quick recap on what happened:
MY FIVE-YEAR-OLD COLORED ON THE COUCH AND THE WINDOW.  HE COLORED.  WITH A CRAYON.  ON THE COUCH. 

What's that you ask?  No, no.  Not my two-year-old.  MY FIVE-YEAR-OLD. 

But surely he picked out a washable Crayola product, right?  Noooo.  No he did not.  He picked out some off-brand leftover restaurant crayon, the cheap, "please don't scare off the other patrons, take whatever you want, paper, crayons, a shot of whiskey aaaahhh!" crayon.

Whaaaaat?  I can't color on the couch?  Is this some kind of new rule?

You know the rules!!  Coloring is for paper only!


 

Oh, what? I'm sorry, you were talking, but I'm pretty sure I just fell asleep.

                                                 

 Oh right! The crayons. That's a good one. You're funny, Mom.



 

I mean, what else are we supposed to do for fun? Play with any one of these 800 toys? Color the Halloween pages that you printed for us?

Oh, you're serious? Um, ok, Pollyanna, you keep making the rules, I'll see what I can do. 





 

 

CUT TO:  Bedtime, 7:00 PM, lots of tears, no dessert.

Oh, except for me.  Because I'm the MOM, damn it.



The Word of Casey

I may have to revise this one non-stop!  These are just a few cute tidbits I remember from the past couple weeks...

On Friday, we were driving to McDonald's for a birthday party.  Colton, of course, was talking nonstop in the backseat, and Casey, who is usually pretty quiet in the car, suddenly yelled, "COLT!  Be quiet!!  I tryin' to talk to mom!!"

Then, while driving on Sunday.... um, Colton was talking nonstop.  'Cause that's just how it is.  About 15 minutes into the ride, Casey said, "Colton?", waited for Colton to say 'what', then said, "BE QUIET!"

On Saturday, he toddled on out to the living room where I was feeding Mackenzie, looked out the window, and said, "What the hellll?"  (don't know what he saw, and I'm not sure that's really the point anyway.)

Another Sunday, someone was helping me carry my things out to the car after church.  One of those 'things' included Mackenzie in her car seat.  When Casey saw someone pick her up and head towards the door, he ran to me and screamed, frantically, "They're takin' my sister!!  They're takin' my sister!!"

Halloween decorations-- we keep trying to convince Casey that the scary decorations are actually funny, not Bad Guys.  Last night, I dressed up our skeleton in Mackenzie's polka-dot onesie and a superman cape to render him less threatening (he even ate some of Casey's dinner and sat on the potty.  On a side note, Colton tried to reenact that this morning and dipped the cape in the toilet).  Then today, I hung up a huge, scary face in the window.  I was pretty sure it would be a no-go with Casey, but Shawn and I tried it anyway.  Casey was outside playing, so Shawn called him over to look at the window.  He stopped dead in his tracks with his eyebrows up and said, "Funny guy?  Bad guy?"  Then he saw me peek around the picture and said, "Bad guy got momma??"

This post is 'to be continued', I'm sure...

We're sorry, Colton is unavailable at this time...

At the bus stop after school today, I was informed (by Colton) that Colton will be staying at a vacation house in Leavenworth for a few days.  His friend 'Hoodin' will be our guest.  Hoodin is five years old, has blond hair and blue eyes, and talks a LOT.  He admires Colton's artwork and the way he decorated the house for Halloween.  His own mother would have fed him pizza for lunch, but he will settle for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich if it's all I have.

Hoodin has a 2-year-old brother, a 1-year-old sister, and an 'older' brother... who is also five.  He would not care to discuss their names at this time.  Maybe later.

Hoodin does not have to go to the bathroom before he takes a nap, but understands that if he is staying in this house, he must abide by the rules.  Also, he is highly capable of putting himself to bed, thank you.

Hoodin:  "Oh, I didn't know Colton had a phone.  It's not a hi-phone like mine.  Maybe you should get him a hi-phone, so when he comes back from the buh-cation house, he will be surprised."


Hoodin is resting in bed right now.  I can almost hear the wheels in that head turning from here.  It will not be a quiet evening... 

9: 26 PM.  Update/revision:
Pardon me, I had the name entirely wrong.  His name is Hoonin.  Hoonin Fernin Fick, actually.  I kinda thought he was bullshitting me, but I asked him numerous times throughout the evening and he is quite consistent. 
Hoonin's bathtub is sooo much bigger than ours, but our grapes are bigger than the ones he eats at home.  His little sister just turned one yesterday, and her party was at Chuck E. Cheese.  She was not scared of the 6-foot rat when it came out to celebrate her birthday.  That's all the information I have for now...

Conversations with Kids

At the park with Colton...
Colton:  I can't eat these berries.  But not because they're poisonous like the ones at home.
Me:  Then why?
Colton:  Because they're girlsonous.
Me:  They're what?
Colton:  They're girlsonous.  Like, the ones at home are boysonous, so these ones are girlsonous.


After getting off the bus one day (and this will earn me the Humanitarian and Parent of the Year Award, I am sure of it)...
Colton:  Look!  We drove on the short bus today!
Me:  Cool!  Was it fun!
Colton:  Yah.  But why do I have a short bus now?
Me:  Probably because your shoes are on the wrong feet.


Every hour or so...
Casey:  Mom!  Guess what.
Me:  What?
Casey:  Chicken butt.  (giggles and squeals)
Casey:  Mom!  Guess how.
Me:  How?
Casey:  Brown-chicken-brown-coowww!


After waking up sad from his nap...
Casey:  I wanna get up.
Me:  Okay.  But don't be sad!  Aren't you happy?
Casey:  Oh yah yah!  I'm so happyyyy.  (snuggles into me.)  I'm so... proud of yoooouuu.


While writing this blog entry...
Mackenzie:  Hewo?  I haz nobody holding me?
Me:  Just a minute, beebie!  Aaaalllmost done...
(two minutes later)
Mackenzie:  Hewo?  Boobies?  You out there?
Me:  Okay beebie, okay!  I'm comin'... just one second...
Mackenzie: 

Fin.

The Big Yellow School Bus Took Away My Little Person

Kindergarten, yo!  I was a little leery at first-- like I was giving my first born away to SOCIETY, maaaan, and I'd never really get him back again.  But now I find myself doing a happy dance every morning, Monday through Friday.  Take this boy and give him structure!  Suck the energy from him and return him to me in a pretty, placid little package!  (OK, I shit you not, I just looked up 'placid' in the dictionary because it so reminds me of the word 'flaccid' that I just wanted to make sure I was using it right-- and the example sentence was "an exceptionally placid mother who was rarely upset by her six children".  Oh yeah?  F#*k you!)
Anyway... a pretty, placid little package is so NOT what I receive at the end of the school day!  It's an adjustment period, I know, but he is tired.  And cranky.  Today, I think I finally narrowed it down to hunger.  He was borderline psychotic until I fed him a huge lunch, so I guess I'll start trying to make him eat more in the morning so we can avoid the After School Meltdown.  (And avoid him ever saying "whatever" to me again like he did yesterday.  Six days into school and he's as snotty as a preteen girl!)


It is fun, though, watching him put his little backpack together in the morning-- or 'packpack', as he calls it-- and get excited for the bus ride.  He's really loving the independence of it all.  He was too nervous to take the bus the first morning of school, so I drove him and walked him into class.  All the kids settled right into their seats and started their morning coloring projects, while a few of us parents sorta hovered around, positive that any second we would be needed for an extra hug or another goodbye.  The teacher finally said, "See, parents?  See how independent your Kindergarteners are?  Let's say our goodbyes!"  When we realized we were being those parents, we sheepishly migrated out of the room.  One of the dads was crying, and I felt a little tight-throated... until I got to the car, and I was like "Woo-hoo!  Let's go to Target!!"

One last game of "Squish the Baby's Soft Spot" before school:

Posing:

Exhibit A-- Cars 2 'PackPack':

Colton agreed to take the bus home from school.  It wasn't as intimidating to him since the ride home would only be with other Kindergarteners, and the teachers lead them from the outside classroom door directly onto the bus.  Casey, Mackenzie and I decided to walk the 1/4 mile to the bus stop to meet him since it was a nice day.

Little did we know, we'd been followed:

Abigail Brush!  That beast of a dog must have stayed a good 30 yards behind us, because every time I turned around to check for cars, the road was empty.  I can just picture her, diving behind bushes and snickering like a cartoon dog.

This patch of grass is definitely tall enough to hide me.  What?  No.  Look away.  You didn't see anything here.

It would have been okay if she was like, uhhhh... a good dog?  But no, she is Satan's Spawn.  She ran across the main road a few times to bark at the dogs sitting pleasantly behind a fence, in their own yard, then thought "Hey!  While I'm out here, maybe I'll chase a couple of trucks.  OOH!  A jogger!"  I probably looked like a whackjob out there running after her, yelling apologies at passing cars and obscenities at her.  Finally, when the bus was about 15 minutes later than they said it was going to be and I got paranoid about Colton getting off at the wrong stop (not to mention so aggravated at Abby that I was starting to think it wouldn't be so bad if she would run back into the road one last time, just to, you know... see what happens), I decided to call Shawn.  The same Shawn who had worked night and day and day and night for days and days and had just gone to bed about three hours prior.  That one.  He got up out of bed, got dressed, drove to the bus stop-- and arrived at the same time Colton hopped off the bus.

A Happy Ending.



Baby Balls!

ALL THREE KIDS ARE SLEEPING RIGHT NOW.  AT THE SAME TIME.  I should probably be exercising or something, but naahhh.

So Shawn used to address my belly as "Baby Ball" to Colton when I was pregnant.  For example: "Let Mom and Baby Ball sleep a little bit later in the morning.  If Baby Ball is up like this, you can talk to Mom.  But if Baby Ball is still laying down like this, you should play with toys in your room for a little while."  It was something that made Colton laugh, so it just stuck.  Anyway, I just found these pictures from two nights before Mackenzie was born.  Colton and Casey wanted Baby Balls of their own, so we blew up some balloons and had a party.

                                                                     

I know.  It's exhausting, right?

And the Grand Master Baby Ball itself:

                                                                                                            

For the record, in the short time since I started this post, all three children have tried to escape from naptime.  They're back in captivity now.  I was armed with a pacifier, a sippy cup, and a promise of M&M's after dinner (ok, actually, I threatened to eat his M&M's if he got up again, but it's kinda the same thing).

I Have a Five-Year-Old!

There's this shred of sadness that comes with saying goodnight to your child on the eve of their birthday.  Birthdays are so exciting, and next to Christmas, it's THE DAY for kids to look forward to all year long.  And I'm excited for him-- for tomorrow, for his party, for his feeling more and more like a Big Boy, especially when he walks on that school bus next month and rides away from me to meet total strangers on the other end. 


But tonight, I said goodnight to my four-year-old for the last time.

THIS BOY!  He is the source of so much pride, love, aggravation, humor, insanity, silliness, wonder.  He will talk your ear off and question you until your head explodes.  Then he'll kiss you and hug you and tell you how much you're loved.  Then he'll ask you to take him to the park!  In that order.


But he really is a loving kid, even when he doesn't want anything.  He loves all people and wants them to be happy.  He's a wonderful big brother.  In fact, I fear for the poor souls who dare cross Casey or Mackenzie.  Recently, at McDonald's playland, a few older boys (around 12 or 13) went into the play structure and they were being pretty rambunctious in there.  Colton marched right up to them and said, "You have to be careful in here!  You're going to hurt my little brother!  He's just little!" 


And so is Colton.  Just not as little.  No longer this baby that I once knew:

Happy Birthday to my big 5-year-old!  Love you, Buddy!



Da Beebie, 7 Weeks

Mackenzie ELAYNE!  You're HOW OLD??  Relentless, unforgiving passing of time!!  What have I ever done to you??

Weellll... we've been busy.  I mean, I'm sure I could have carved out a few minutes here or there to write a little bit about a huge, life-changing event like bringing a whole new human into the world.  But I've been too busy cuddling with it.  Because wookit.

Let me start from the beginning.  Mackenzie was born on June 21st, the first day of summer.  I woke up at 4:30 AM, which was in no way unusual, as I am a bit of an early morning insomniac, especially when pregnant.  But the contractions were definitely more crampy than usual, and... Good Lord Almighty, that baby just shat an audible load in her diaper.  I'ma hafta take a break.


Anyway... contractions.  It became clear to me by 6:30 or 7 AM that this was The Day.  Contractions were about 5 minutes apart and well out of the Braxton Hicks Comfort Zone.  I made the necessary phone calls and Meredith was here by 8-ish to take the boys.  Casey has come out of his shell in a big way recently, and didn't seem to care at all that I woke him up, threw some clothes on him, and sent him off in an unfamiliar car. (Not that he doesn't know Meredith, John and Pete, but STILL... it's a milestone.)  I believe we left here at 8:15 or 8:30, and the ride to the birth center was freakishly easy (especially compared to last time, when I went through transition in the car).  I was about to tell Shawn to turn around and go home, thinking that this was probably the false labor everyone talks about.  My contractions were tapering off, and the few that I did have weren't very strong.  As soon as we arrived, though, they picked up again, and when they examined me I was already almost 7 centimeters.  Contractions were painful but tolerable for quite awhile.  I remember talking and laughing between them up to 9 cm, which is weird and not at all like my last labor.  When my midwife asked if I wanted her to break my water, I said "Yah!  Let's git-r-doooonnnne!"  The water breakage happened at 8 centimeters, and just after that I got into the birthing tub and stayed there until Mackenzie was born at 11:09 AM.  Fast and furious!  And holy balls, painful at the end there.  But it's done, and I have a beebie now!

8 lbs, 15oz, 22 inches long

The day could not have worked out more perfectly.  There was a playdate that day at the church I've been attending in Tacoma (Meredith goes there too).  It's about half a mile from the birth center, so Meredith took all the boys to the playdate and was able to bring Colton and Casey over to see their new sister about an hour after she was born.  They've both been in love ever since.  Squishy, smothering, overwhelming love.  Lots of dirty hands and wet kisses and Casey yelling, "I SEE!  I SEE BABY!!  I SEEEEEEEE!!"

                   We were home by 5 PM, about 6 hours after she was born.

 

                                                 


I'm sure I don't have the right words for how great Shawn was that first week.  He did everything for the boys and let Mackenzie and I heal and adjust to the new life in the most relaxed, quiet way possible.  I was terrified of him going back to work the next week, but in the end it wasn't nearly as challenging as the ghastly pictures I'd painted in my head.  Challenging, yes, but not undoable.

THREE kids.  It's been interesting.  Though I really think that the transition from 1 to 2 was harder than going from 2 to 3.  It's like I'm just used to being a little crazy and never feeling caught up.  With anything.  Ever.  Now that she's seven weeks old, I'm feeling a little more human again.  For awhile there, it was just pain, boobs, diapers, poop, children, screaming, food, hungry, poop, mastitis, dirty fingernails, dirty dishes, more mastitis, diapers, crying, and booooobs.  Dude.  Sleep?  Etc.


But tonight, it's 8:30 PM, and even though Mackenzie has not yet pooped today, she is happily snuggled into her Moby wrap and I was just able to type more than two sentences is one sitting.  In fact,  I think I'm going to post this one now.  I was going to attempt to make it more reader-friendly, but I just don't think I AM reader-friendly right now.


But first, let's check in with my gigantic children.  Here's a couple of tidbits:  Colton starts Kindergarten in less than a month and is turning FIVE in two days.  Last week, he fell at the Harborside Park in Bremerton and split his head open.  12 STAPLES.  Will post pictures later.
Casey is still a mountainous pile of cuteness.  A few weeks ago, he ran down the hallway towards me and said "MOM!", then glanced around with an exaggerated nervous expression and said "Bear comin'."  Then he took off running.  Must have been in the middle of reenacting one of his favorite books- 'We're Going on on a Bear Hunt'.

                 And lastly, here's a bonus picture, because I'm so generous:

A Letter to My Unborn Child

Dear Bad Baby,

We're full term now.  You're past due.  You are officially freeloading off your mother.  Get out!

Much Love,
Big Mama


P.S.  Like, BIG. 
P.P.S.  Like, only two of my shirts go down past my belly button. 
P.P.P.S  Like, I ain't buying a new wardrobe, Baby.  Get out!  (I swear I'll be nicer than this when you get out!)

You:



Me: