Cry, cry, cry

Last night Papabear and I went out for our 7 year wedding anniversary (which is actually Monday, the 28th).  Earlier in the day I went to get a haircut - nothing major, just a trim.  I haven't been to a hair dresser since....hmmm...well, it's been almost a year.  ANYWAY, I said to the lady, "Just a trim, I want it healthy, I've been in the pool all summer, yada, yada, yada."  FOUR INCHES LATER - I am no longer a long-haired girl. AAARRRGGG.  I wanted to look nice for Papabear and instead, I get my hair chopped (not his favorite look). Ug. Stupid hair.  WELL, it is healthy looking...just a lot shorter than I like.  I suppose I should just get trims every four or five months and then I can avoid the whole chop-it-off scenario.  I'm sure I'll upload photos soon.

SO, we went to a really nice restaurant for dinner.  The steak Papabear had was so good he talked about it ALL NIGHT - thrilling.  Seriously, though, I'm glad he had a meal he loved so much.  We then went to the movies.  We

Stepbrothers

bought tickets to Dark Knight, but there were no seats together.  So, we went into the Stepbrothers theater just as it was starting.  We both laughed so hard we were crying our eyes out.  It was really stupid, but just the kind of lame, mindless humor we needed.  We ended our evening at a really cool Irish pub/restaurant.  Papabear's beer was NINE dollars!!!!  He said it was worth it, though.

Anyway, see the movie if you're in the mood for complete nonsense.

I'm off to start packing for our trip to NY.

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Kaleidescope

It's amazing how everything around you changes when you tweak your perspective.  While I have been busy hiding my "baby-on-the-brain" syndrome, Papabear has been sinking into a depression.  This happens with him.  It's happened a few times in the 14 years we've been together.  However, this time, the events in the past few months have been so earth shattering I am afraid I can't help him.  And it certainly is the most selfish thing in the world to spring wanting a baby on him.  He knows I want another baby, that wouldn't really be a surprise...but still...as a friend pointed out, he needs to really work through a lot of this before he can embark on yet another life-altering event, such as bringing another person into this world.

Again, I am helpless.  All I can do is be here for him...yet in three days I am getting on a plane for ten days with Littleman and leaving Papabear behind.  I know this is bothering him, even though he doesn't say so.  I promised him that after my trip to Arizona in December we wouldn't travel unless we all went together.  I'm afraid my missing my friends back home and even my mom, overpowered me and I thought ten days wouldn't be so bad.  Of course, this was before we lost uncle Tim AND before Papabear's sister and mother decided to go to Florida for a week (they left this morning).  So, Papabear will be alone.  And he really sinks deeper when he's alone.  His other wife, Z, is arriving for the weekend while I'm gone, so that will help, but I am still worried about Papabear. 

He seems so joyless.  I don't know what will make him happy.  I know Littleman and I form a big chunk of the happiness in his heart, but, he misses music.  It's such a big part of him and there is so little music in his life right now.  Music and friends.  He misses having a beer with the guys he had back East.  Even if they weren't all musicians they were all interested in roughly the same things.  AND, he misses nature.  Not that we were super avid hikers/campers when we lived in NY, but...just having a big back yard to take care of is something I know he misses.  Well...I'm pretty sure he doesn't miss HAVING to mow the lawn on a humid summer Sunday, but...using his chain saw and growing grass...those sorts of things. 

So, while I chug along, ignorantly happy, enjoying every minute with my son and our new friends and life without a full time job, the cloud of my husband's unhappiness hovers nearby.  I continue to try and make our home a clean and comfortable place - his favorite shirts and jeans are always clean and in his dresser when he gets home.  I try to keep the fridge and cupboards stocked with interesting ingredients so he can entertain his creative cooking side.  I try not to nag, I don't ask him to take out the garbage or put the seat down or put his underwear in the hamper instead of beside it...I keep Fat Tires (beer) in the fridge and give him hugs.  I know time will heal all.  Time...I hate how you can't stop it or  hurry it up...but I suppose it wouldn't work then. 

And so I wait for the kaleidescope to turn again...

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Smelling like fish

is never a good thing. 

On Tuesday mornings I babysit two very sweet children for a few hours.  They moved here (with their parents, of course) from England around the same time we moved here.  Anyway, for lunch their "mum" left some bagels, avocado (to be spread on the bagels), and a can of sardines.  Both children wolfed down their lunches, along with some cantelope and blueberries I had brought along.  (Littleman wolfed down his PB&J and didn't look twice at the sardines.)  I truly admire their tastebuds.  These two little wonders also eat pickled onions, tuna salad made with peas and tomato sauce, and hot peppers!  If only I had been more creative in my offerings to Littleman...

Anywho, I was very careful to not touch the sardines, using a fork to serve them.  I was also careful about wiping up the kiddies afterwards...but somehow that little 18 month old thwarted me!  As I left I could smell sardine on me.  My hands were scrubbed, but alas the smell was lurking somewhere else on my being.  When we leave this particular house on Tuesdays, if Littleman has been good, he is rewarded with 45 minutes at a McDonald's playland before his nap.  SO, I sat in McDonalds, TRYING desparately to write in my journal, but unfortunately sniffing my entire upper body until I located the spot on my shirt where the little guy must have clung before he was adequately cleaned.  After numerous attempts with wipes, I still reeked of fish until after 3:15 when Littleman FINALLY fell asleep for his nap and I could jump into the shower. (Yeah, yeah, it's going to be a late night - MIL is coming over for dinner, so I guess that will work out fine.)

Although it was mere two hours of smelling like pickled sardines...they felt like a small eternity.  Come on, people - you know how I am about smells!!!!!!  Hey, at least it wasn't spilled milk or worse, YOGURT!  ACK!  Can't even think about it....

A few more tidbits:

I can confirm that I will never be the mother of more than two.  Of course, now that I have typed that, I am certain I will be blessed with twins or that accidental "third" child someday down the line.  Watching three kiddies on Tuesday mornings, for a mere four hours is like being part of a three ring circus.  My head spins.  Okay...granted, if I had three they would not all be toddlers/preschoolers at the same time, still...it's A LOT to keep organized in ones head.  Don't get me wrong, I could do it.  But do it well??? Hmmm...let's just see how I fare with two.

Speaking of the #2 - I am sure you are all wondering how my little secret/vow is going.  Well, not but two days after I posted that blog, Papabear opens up a dialogue about "our family's future."  I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep my excitement at bay.  He let on that he knows #2 arrival is imminent and he is making mental plans for it.  I said I will continue to not talk/stress about it...until September, when my birth control prescription runs out and I don't plan on refilling.  So there's that.

And finally, I am getting babysitting jobs left and right!!!!  It's pretty awesome.  I signed Littleman up for preschool (two days a week, for 2.5 hours, starting in September) and the director came out (overheard me chatting up the secretary, go figure!) and asked me for my resume!!!  We are going to try and work something out where I'd work when Liam's in school (different class, of course).  I'd get paid and half off the tuition...I'll let you know how that works out.

Finally, and MOST importantly - I should have posted this FIRST - the smell of fish overpowered me.  My dear, dear friend, SH, had a little boy, CFH, on Friday, July 18.  6 pounds 11 oz.  Healthy and happy are mom, dad, and baby.  It kills me to be so far away - she was right there when I had Littleman and really supported me when Papabear was away at school.  I am finding it difficult to not call her every five minutes to see how it's going.  (Don't worry, I've only called her twice since Friday....)  Anyway, I'm so happy for her and her family...and I will see her next week when I go to NY...but it won't be the same...ug.  (Not to mention, her having her baby has done NOTHING to quell my "baby-on-the-brain" syndrome....)

Nap time is abruptly over. :( Off I go.... 

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For die hard fans only...

This following video runs three minutes and 47 seconds and only die hard fans of Littleman and his silliness will want to watch it.  Papabear and I have had a 30 second rule when it comes to video "taping" our little boy.  Well...recently...he's just been so darn cute, that  I've broken the rule.  AND, I know there is something called editing and usually I do that on these video clips...however, today's video has four, maybe five clips of Littleman singing.  I simply could not decide which to toss.  In case you can't understand him, after he says, "Ladies and gentlemen!"  He usually follows with a jumble of "introducing squishy lizard (name)"  or "give it up for..."  As I said, it's a jumble, but you'll get the picture.  His singing is adorable...er...well, I am the mother, it might be awful, but clearly not in my eyes. If you can't bear to watch the whole thing, skip to the last ten seconds, he ends with a funny.  I hope it's not torture and that you'll enjoy.

Singer

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Tooting

So, this first video I am posting for two reasons.  The first is because these sock puppets are so darn cute I had to show them off (in essence, "tooting my own horn") and the second reason is because it's so cute, it'd be criminal NOT to share it.

Puppet

And this next one is just plain fun.

Whipped

Hope you enjoyed it!

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This one's for KBC

When I was a very young girl my parents gave my brother, Chuckie, and I every opportunity to swim.  We loved the water and were natural "fish."  I, however, had a great aversion to getting water up my nose...and instead of holding my nose with my fingers, which I found incredibly annoying, I soon found out that I could cover my nostrils with my upper lip.  I could make a perfect little vacuum seal so no water would enter my nose.  Can't picture it? (Well, I am sure many of you already can because you have seen me do this.)  Here is a picture so you can see this amazing talent with your own eyes:

 

noseplug

Incredible, I know.  Freakish, too.  And oddly...I think I look kind of hot in this picture...hotter than any picture I've had taken in quite a while...

I digress.  Anyway, as I was on my forty-first or fifty-second boring lap in the pool the other day, I was reminded of this "talent" of mine.  I noted that I no longer need to do it.  I can swim like a grown up now.  And I was also reminded that my stepmom, KBC, found this skill of mine fascinating.  As a matter of fact, when I saw her in June she asked me to do it...and to this day she laughs with amazement (as I know she is laughing as she reads this).  So, KBC, this post is for you. :)  Thanks for always laughing with me and not at me! 

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Can you keep a secret?

Well, as you know, I am not so good with the secrets.  Thankfully, I have had to bear the burden of keeping a secret precious few times.  Today, I need to blab a secret I have with myself that I am keeping from Papabear.  A couple of weeks ago I made a vow that I would not speak of having another baby until my birthday (September 23, for those of you who might possibly have forgotten). 

I did this because I know it stresses Papabear out to think about having #2.  He stresses about less time spent with Littleman, not enough money, not enough room in the house...all things that seem ridiculous to me.  We'll never have enough money (who does? I mean, really), if anything, this will give Papabear more time with Littleman, and I have already been working out how to change my office into a nursery with as little fuss as possible.

Papabear is on to me.  He's noticed already that I've "stopped talking about a sibling for Littleman."  He actually thanked me!  Ha!  He doesn't know that on my birthday I am going to ask him for one thing and one thing only: NO MORE BIRTH CONTROL.  And then we'll just see what happens....

I wanted to have this sibling for Littleman ages ago.  I am grateful that the "forces that be" clearly had a plan for me.  I can see now, after hanging out with so many "mom's of two" that I will be a much better "mom of two" with an older Littleman, rather than a younger one.  I am not sure I possess that kind of patience.  Well, I am sure the depths of my patience well run deep, however, I think that by the time I have #2 I will be much calmer than had it happened sooner.  I needed that time to chill out.  Don't get me wrong, guys, you can bet that I will resemble a chicken without a head in the early years, but I'm sure I will be a much cooler headless chicken. :)

So, technically, this is not a secret.  I just wanted to talk about something that is currently taboo in our house and I appreciate the minute you took to read this and shake your head at how silly I am.  If you can believe it, I am actually sticking to my vow - haven't peeped in about a month!

And, to end on something funny, Littleman actually calls his dad, "Papabear."  It is the cutest thing.  He'll walk through the house calling, "Papabear...." when he's looking for daddy.  Also, I made the mistake to telling Littleman that he will be not only visiting his old friend Skywalker at the end of July, but also sleeping over.  Now, just about twice a day, but sometimes more, Littleman will ask, "Is it the end of July?  Because at the end of July I am sleeping at Skywalker's house."  "Mommy, we are going to fly on an airplane to New York and sleep at Skywalkers..."  It just never ends....me and my big mouth. 

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Exercising

is a funny thing.  In an ideal world...well, in MY ideal world, I'd get my exercise milking the cows in the morning, sweating in the kitchen preparing hearty meals, and hiking up and down mountains with a baby strapped to my back picking blueberries and the like.  Not exactly feasible in the world...or area I live in today.  Currently, to stay fit, I hop, jump, spin, and "scissor" over a step to ludicrously loud pop music.  Or, sometimes I swim fifty or sixty lengths in the over-chlorinated pool (much more soothing but dreadfully boring).  Either way, both seem utterly unnatural. 

As I sweat buckets in the noisy studio, I look around and see that I am exercising with a number of Barbie dolls.  These "dolls" have showered and applied make up BEFORE class.  And, amazingly, nothing on them jiggles or bounces.  It's as if their boobs (which are often giant) are made of steel...but I suspect something else is keeping them...er...erect.  I am also bouncing around next to a couple of anorexics who have two or THREE risers on their step and add EXTRA spins and hops whenever they can.  They scare me...especially the eight month pregnant one - yeah, seriously.  She never exercises with less than two risers, her bones stick out every where, and there's a basketball sticking out under her spandex.  Scary.  And, totally unnatural. 

But, the gym and it's classes are the only way I will ever stay fit.  At least for now.  One day... perhaps I will live in or near the mountains again.  (And don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining.  I love my two hours of sweat and such in the morning...I think my soul just craves something else....)

In other news, this morning I hosted a "pancake breakfast."  I had fifteen people over...sixteen if you include the 10 week old, but she slept in her carrier the entire time.  Seven moms, the rest kiddos.  Surprisingly, the pancake part was pretty easy.  I had prepped the kitchen the night before, so all I had to do was make the pancakes.  All the moms pitched in with the serving and extra goodies.  BUT, inevitably, all that syrup or excitement worked it's way into the children.  Things ran smoothly for about the first hour or so, then, as one mom cleverly put it, "the wheels have begun to come off."  By the end, each mom was scurrying out of the house with a screaming toddler or preschooler or both!  Well, some playdates go off without a hitch, like yesterday's "L is for Lions and Llamas," and others just fall apart at the seams.  In the end, everyone had a good time...and even though it took me an hour to clean up afterwards (mopping the floor for the second time this week!), it was worth the conversation and Littleman's (so far) hour nap!!!!

And finally, Littleman had his third year check up yesterday.  He's exactly three feet tall and 28 pounds.  He is in the 13th percentile for both height and weight.  The doctor said that although he is on the short side, he's perfectly porportionate.  Lovely.  Also, she made a note that he might be color blind.  He kept switching his greens and reds and he was acting uncharacteristically shy and sometimes not answering at all.  She told me to google "colorblind tests" and do an informal check.  After doing so, I am about 99% sure Littleman is NOT color blind and was just yanking our chains.  Silly little goose.

Well, I tried to upload some pics of my pancake and lion adventures, but alas, the internet is not agreeing with me today.  Sorry for all the text...

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Celebrating the 4th

Fourth1

After a bit of rain, we had a really nice fourth of July.  Here's the sunset.  We had lunch at the SIL's and swam in their pool.  Then we headed over to another BBQ with friends.  The kids got absolutely filthy, as everything was wet - Littleman and his friend, D, got WILD on the trampoline, I have a little video clip to show you.  They must have jumped/played for nearly an hour...but after filming only 23 seconds, it just felt wrong.  I couldn't stop them, though.  They were having such fun.  Later, they got to hold sparklers, briefly.  And the evening ended with fireworks and chocolate cupcakes. My kind of night! 

 

Fourth

OH, we also sold the Jeep Liberty yesterday, yes, on the fourth.  The guy really wanted to buy it.  And today, Papabear was able to buy a Mini Cooper.  He really wanted a convertible, but did you know that two weeks ago they just stopped making them??? (Until March of 2009, anyway.)  We searched dealerships within a four to five hour drive, even in Oklahoma, but to no avail.  SO, Papabear had to settle for a sun roof.  I'm happy to report, though, that they had the color he wanted, British Racing Green, AND it is super charged...or has a super charger...I don't know.  Whatever.  He's happy.  It's a zippy little thing and WAY more fuel efficient than the Jeep.

 

Mini1

 

Mini2

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A visit with cousins...

Many of you do not know that I have wonderful cousins that live in Houston.  My dad's nephew married a Texan and has been living out here for 17 years (he was a native upstate New Yorker!).  They have two great kids and we had a lovely visit.  Littleman, clearly attaching himself to every visitor we get, cried and cried when they left. "I want my cousins to come baaaacccckkkk.....,"  he wailed.  The kid has inherited my tendency for melodrama.  Here are some pics from their brief, but wonderful visit.

 

Cousins1

 

Cousins2

 

Cousins3

I apologize about the red eye - I know there must be a "remover" on my PC somewhere...I just don't know where it is.

 

Cousins4

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Another great use for big boobs

SO, a few hours after Littleman went to bed, (actually, just at I was tucking myself under the covers), Papabear and I heard the classic, "Mama," cry from his room.  I went in to check.  He was curled up in a ball, kicking off the covers, groaning, whimpering.  I had a feeling what was coming.  Although he has never truly "hurled" in his life (just one very small incident after some raspberries back in NY when he was two), a mother knows.  He was very sleepy, so when I asked if he needed to go potty, he just groaned.  Just as I picked him up, he leaned into my chest and...well...no need to go into great detail here, you get the idea.

Amazingly, my boobs (no bra) not only caught it all, but kept it from hitting his bed, pillow, and rug!  We made it to the bathroom where the floodgates opened.  Grossness ensued.  An hour later, I am killing time in Papabear's office (adjacent to Littleman's room), just to be sure the little guy is okay for the night.

Well...my stomach doesn't feel right.  

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