This past weekend, my parents were up here from Georgia. Because of the renovations, there isn’t exactly a guest room, so we blew up a queen-sized air mattress, and they slept in the kitchen floor. I know – crazy. Anyway, the air mattress in the kitchen was a lovely plaything for the kiddos, and EK was making us laugh by calling all the pillows “puddles”. I’m not sure where the disconnect was, but no matter how many times I tried to correct her, it wouldn’t take. That may or may not have been because I was laughing so hard about her saying “puddles”.
We did have a little moment on Saturday when J and EK were playing on the air mattress – like we frequently do on Hubby’s and my bed, which is king-sized – where J was rolling and rolling, and rolled right off onto the floor. Now, this thing is sitting on the ground, so the floor was less than a foot away, so he wasn’t falling from several feet or anything. But, he must’ve hit his face first, before anything else took the weight off, because he ended up with a giant bruise (and scratch, somehow) on his cheek. I noticed today (four days later) that the lovely green and purple have spread up to his eye. I think it’s appropriate to do this: #motheroftheyear
My other favorite thing EK said was when she had woken up from her nap on Sunday, and my parents had left to go home. She knew they would leave while she was asleep, and she got a goodbye hug and kiss and everything, but this was the first thing she said when she woke up:
“Necie and G-Daddy gone to Georgia! I can’t find them! I need to chase them!”
Necie and G-Daddy are obviously what we call my parents. Once again, I will reiterate that she knew they were leaving. And also, I’m not sure we’ve really used the word “chase” before, so I’m not sure when she decided chasing them to Georgia would work, but she definitely wanted to go for it.
An aside: My kids love my parents. They don’t see them as much as Hubby’s family members, so it’s a special treat when they’re here. They also get pretty spoiled, which as long as I’m not doing it, I don’t really mind. But there are definitely times that they get to do silly things (see picture above) that I’d not normally be okay with.
Anyone have a hilarious thing your toddler said this week that you’d like to share?!
This morning, I was the grump queen. Can’t you tell?
Sometimes, EK drives me up the wall.
She shouts. She often shouts things I’ve heard myself say. I try really hard not to shout or yell or holler or whatever at my kids, but sometimes the words I use in a speaking voice that probably are the same as yelling. Sometimes, she’s whiny and tantrum-y and needy and clingy and attached to Daddy even when I’m the only one around, and it’s hard. It can be so hard. Especially when there’s another little one who is also clingy and needy and whiny, it’s really hard. It wears on me. And let’s not pretend that my pregnancy hormones aren’t making it worse, because they are. “She of little patience” has become “Monster with no patience at all”.
Today, we had a hectic morning. I was trying to get the kids and me (with our laundry) out the door so that sick Hubby could rest without screeching (the happy or the sad kind) and bumping and whatever other kid-related noise. While I was doing the normal stuff to get them ready to go, something happened. For the first time, EK hit me. I was totally baffled. I didn’t even punish her. I couldn’t figure out why or what started it. I’d been doing what I normally do in the morning – fixing breakfasts, getting everyone dressed, finding shoes and coats, convincing them to help me get them ready to go, etc. I leaned down to pick something up off the floor (I can’t remember what, now) and while I was leaning over, she swiped at me, right on the side of my head.
It didn’t hurt. She’s just a little girl, so obviously I wasn’t hurt. But my feelings were. I’ve never clocked her on the side of the head (duh) so why would she think to do that to me? She didn’t seem particularly upset in that moment, and I didn’t even say much besides, “Why did you just hit me? Should you sit in time out?” I didn’t know how to respond, really. I just went on with getting us ready and out the door, and remembered it only a few minutes ago.
It was a terrible morning, really. We were all on edge from the moment we woke up. It might have to do with the fact that I woke up on the couch, EK woke up too early, and J woke up too late. It might have to do with the fact that I rushed them immediately out the door. It might be that I wouldn’t let them go see Daddy because I didn’t want them to get sick. It might be a hundred other things. But we were all in a crappy mood, and it just compounded when we were all doing it together.
But after we had spent a morning having breakfast with friends in our favorite little bakery (Tart Sweets – their cinnamon rolls were divine), had a few minutes of play time at home, picking up lunch from Cookout and eating at while we shopped at Babies R Us (it was a weird day, okay?) the kids were in great spirits and are now down in the second hour of their naps. A DOUBLE NAP! I’ve already prepped dinner! It’s wonderful MADNESS, I tell you! Hubby is a little weak, but still peacefully sleeping as he’s been doing all day, the kids and I had a tickle fight on EK’s bed before they napped, and I thankfully got a shower. See, my day could be redeemed. But I won’t pretend that as I packed them in the car, both crying, to go to breakfast, I wasn’t crying along with them, saying, “Jesus, take the freaking wheel.”
After a freezing cold week of being semi-iced-in, cancelled preschool and church activities, and random bouts of sickness, we needed a day out on the town, visiting friends and being productive. We needed to be worn out in a good way. We needed a day away from the TV. The kids are tired of spending all their time in one room (they’re used to roaming between upstairs and downstairs), the half of their toys that aren’t packed, and the fact that we’ve resorted to watching too much TV (even if it’s movies). It’s terrible. I’ve felt cooped up and so do they. We are ready for spring, for the renovations to be done, and for life to return to its regularly scheduled programming. Right now, in our lives, the struggle is real. But thank you Jesus for the reminder that my day, the kids’ day, our lives in general, can be redeemed.
Today, I had a moment. A moment of full appreciation of all my little guy’s cuteness and quirks. He’d gotten up from his nap a little fussy, and just wanted to cuddle. He needed his mama. I was obviously glad to oblige. I was even tearing up, burying my face in his curls behind his ears, and telling Hubby how glad I was to have a little guy who loved his mama. Then just like that, the moment was over – squelched by a bit of vomit, rolling right down our sleeves and on to my pants.
Thanks a lot, kid.
Luckily, we both needed baths anyway, so I took him to my bathroom, figuring we’d just hop in the shower. As soon as I got his diaper off, he decided to make sure the aforementioned sweet moment was completely gone. He stood up straight, took a big breath, and peed right onto the bath mat.
It was gone. But thanks for making sure, kid.
But the truth is that I often look at my little humans and think about how incredible they are. I think about how EK has her daddy’s hazel eyes, with the speckles of gold. I think about how J has the ice blue eyes of my grandfather, who died while I was pregnant with J. I think about EK’s stubborn personality and wonder (batting my eyes and smiling sneakily) where she could have possibly gotten it from! I listen to J’s happy wordless jabber, probably making up stories and using his imagination already. They’re amazing. God has already given them a thousand unique qualities that I will love, struggle with, pray over and brag about. They are mine, my own. And they are wonderfully and fearfully made.
So, I don’t know what actually, truly constitutes a “toddler”, by definition anyway, but there is no one that “toddles” as much as my little one year old guy, so I’m guessing that qualifies him as a toddler. So, in effect, I have two toddlers.
That’s a scary sentence. Let’s say it again, for effect:
I. Have. Two. Toddlers. Yikes.
Double shower/teeth brushing. Typical.
This means that life can be crazy. As a quick story, this morning, Hubby was in the shower, I was getting J dressed, and EK had been playing with toys in the living room. The next thing I know, I don’t see or hear her, so I dare to peek out the front door. She’s on the sidewalk, with a nice lady who has pulled over to ask the little girl where her mommy is. It could not have been more than 120 seconds that she was outside, but still. I know, awful things could have happened. I’m thankful they didn’t. We have a chain on the top of the door that’s usually locked, and when we took the trash out after breakfast, we forgot to lock it back. Parenting 101, epically failed.
She is the experienced toddler, who knows all about crying when she doesn’t get what she wants. She knows all about working the room. She knows all about needing to potty right after she’s gone to bed, and about sneaking around the house really quietly in the morning in search of candy before Mommy manages to drag her exhausted self out of bed. Right now, our biggest fights are over nightgowns. She has two frilly little nightgowns she loves to wear, and if I let her, she’d wear them all day. Every once in a while, I break down and let her put it on for a nap, because as she reminds me, nightgowns are something you wear while you sleep. (Cue face palm because I should have said “sleeping AT NIGHT”.) If they are both in the laundry, then all bets for going to bed are off, because regular pajamas WILL NOT BE PUT ON HER BODY. So there.
One of the two favored nightgowns. Funny side note: she’s never watched Sophia the First.Photo from http://www.imgarcade.com
I also have one brand new toddler who, in addition to being extremely clumsy, is also very brave. Scaling furniture is less of a problem for him than simply walking from the car to the front door. Climbing the shelves in the kitchen is much easier than getting into his toddler-sized chair. He’s a little like the Tazmanian Devil, what with the messes that tend to follow him everywhere. He HATES the word “no” right now. If I have to tell him to stop doing something (smashing my laptop, carrying Daddy’s coffee around the room, etc) he immediately dissolves into wails. I think he just hears the word so often that he’s grown to hate it. I’m trying to figure out something else to say instead, but there’s just nothing as good as plain ol’ “no”.
My little guy, eating his eclectic meal and then spreading it all over creation.We managed to never have this problem with EK…
However, there are some pretty hilarious perks.
J says “thank you” to and for everything. He hands me something, and says it. He takes something from me, and says it. Picks something up off the floor, and says it. Puts a toy away, and says it. I guess I say it a lot? He also is doing this funny thing where he will eat almost anything, but only about 5 bites of it. His plate is very eclectic, because I know that bites 6-10 are wasted, so it’s got to be 5 bites of 5 different things. The things we do to ensure that our kids are eating enough…
I ask them to eat dinner when we’re at home, they holler and make a mess. Daddy takes them out to eat, and they look like angels all night.
EK is extremely good at communicating now, but every once in a while she gets stuck on something. She can’t quite get herself unbuckled from her car seat (I’m pretty sure I’m glad about it) but she can get one buckle undone, and then yells, “Somebody! HELP ME!” like I’m kidnapping her. I think it’s hilarious, but the passersby may think otherwise. She also loves the song from The Sound of Music “Do-Re-Mi” and whenever she sings it, she starts like this: “Do a deer, I call myself. Fa, a long long way to run. So, I need to pull a thread. La, I need to follow so. Ti, blah-blah-blah-blah bread! Sing sing back to do!” It’s basically the best. Whenever she starts singing it, Hubby and I just look at each other and try not to laugh until she’s finished. Her other key phrase is “Oh my gosh!” No explanation needed.
Keep the toddler on your lap for a snuggle whenever you can, because it isn’t often.
What are some crazy antics of your toddlers? Anything they say that’s hilarious every time? Any silly habits or funny things they do?8
Due to our basement renovations, the Hsu house is extremely loud from time to time. It’s totally fine, and we knew it would be that way, and our contractors have graciously given us no less than 24 hours notice when we’re going to have a extra loud day. Today was one of the loud ones, so we got up, had breakfast, made a Target run, then came over to my in-laws’ house for nap times (my kids aren’t having the glorious double nap right now, so “nap times” can be anywhere from 2-5 hours). My in-laws are absolutely wonderful for letting us interrupt their days and their home by letting us come over, eat, watch tv, make messes and require quiet for naps. That being said, I’ll move on to the real point of this post.
I almost always use Pampers diapers. I thought about cloth diapering with J since we were “parenting pros” (HA HA HA) but Hubby nixed it. I wasn’t that sad. We’ve tried Huggies, Babies R Us brand, Costco/Kirkland brand, and a few others that are cheaper than Pampers. But in our experience, especially with bigger babies/toddlers, Pampers is the way to go. My in-laws keep a stock of diapers at their place, mostly cheaper ones since they’re sorta emergency diapers, used only for short periods of time and never for overnight, and I’m just super grateful that they’re there, because when I’m coming over with the kids, I don’t even bring a diaper bag. ((The photo above is Pampers (diaper bag crushed and all), Huggies, Kirkland/Costco, and Babies R Us, and all are size 4.))
Today, J went down for his nap first, right when we got there. Nothing was out of the ordinary… I put a fresh diaper on him, gave him his swaddle (my kids both sleep with one) and his bottle of warm milk, and he went right to sleep. He slept for three hours! HALLELUJAH! However, he had woken up with wet pants, because his Huggie (same size as the Pampers he always wears) had leaked. It wasn’t as if I left him for his nap and he drank several cups of water. He NEVER leaks at nap time. Sometimes at night, but never at a nap. So of course I changed his pants and went on about my business.
Right before J woke up, EK fell asleep, without drinking anything I might add, watching a movie (a special privilege since we’re at her grandmother’s house – she doesn’t do that at home) on the couch. As far as I know, she had a dry diaper on, because we’d just had an accident in the Pull-Up right as the movie started. Her diaper was a Kirkland brand (from Costco, size 4, which is her normal diaper size – yes, same size as J. Yes, that is a wonderful phenomenon.) She woke up in a puddle on the couch.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Two leaking naps, in two different brand diapers that aren’t our usual, and at someone else’s house, no less?! I felt terrible… Not only am I already doing my laundry over here (no laundry available at our place during the basement reno) but I’m causing more laundry and wrecking the couch. Or my kids are. Or we as a family are. Ugh. Good thing I have forgiving, wonderful in-laws who love me with my messy kids.
Moral of the story: I may never buy anything but Pampers ever again. Has anyone else have tried and true Pampers stories? Has anyone had good luck with the off-brand diapers?
Growling “like a dinosaur” instead of eating her lunch.
So, I’ve been trying to teach EK about manners. I know, my two and a half year old doesn’t know much about manners (says anyone who’s ever spent time with her). She’s a little spastic, likes to run around instead of stay in her chair during meals, and thinks spitting, yelling, sounding like a fire truck, and pushing down her brother (who just learned to walk) are all acceptable things to do. We talk every day about being polite, making good choices, and being kind to others, and I can tell it’s finally starting to sink in. She knows better than doing lots of the things we talk about. And that’s where we get stuck.
Recently, she’s been saying, “That’s funny!” or “Ella Kate so funny!” after she does something mean or rude. So the other day, I countered with, “No, that’s not funny. That’s rude.” If you could tell me how to take those words back, I’d pay you a million dollars.
I have literally heard that phrase several times a day since I said it the first – and only – time. Of all the things I say that she parrots, I can’t believe that’s the one. Sometimes, she does something truly funny, and we tell her so. And right on cue, she responds with, “No! That’s not funny! That’s rude!”
Talk about a lost meaning. A giant parenting fail that I committed, just as I was trying to teach manners. The best laid plans, right? Well, I can’t stop teaching her about manners because I had an epic fail. I can’t just let her run me over when I try to teach her right from wrong. One failed teachable moment doesn’t excuse me from ever teaching her anything again. It just makes me want to get it right even more. As a parent, it’s my job to teach her to make good choices on her own, so that she can do it without me later. It’s a scarily important role, teaching those things. It’s tough. I’m sure when she’s a teenager, it’ll be tougher still. But I can’t be discouraged by one fail, or five fails, or a thousand. That loud, endearingly crazy girl is going to get the right idea, if I can help guide her in spite of ourselves.
A couple of days ago, when I posted for My Big Jesus, I sneakily (and accidentally) interjected a little announcement about myself… and my growing family!
We are expecting our third baby this July!!!
I know. That was a lackluster announcement. Sorry, third baby. I promise I will do something cool for you when you’re born, since I missed the opportunity to announce your presence a little more excitingly.
So there ya go! I’m 12 weeks today! Hello, second trimester! I’ve been feeling great (albeit exhausted) and super excited (albeit busy with life in general) about planning for and meeting another youngun into our home. I’ve also been working a little something for the blog ever since I found out I was pregnant…
I’ve been working on a miniseries (that wasn’t how it started, but that’s how it’s turned out!) about the first trimester of my pregnancy. I didn’t want to put it on the blog when we found out (at four weeks – holy moly!) but I did want to write about it. So over the next week, I’ll be posting the things I wrote about for the first few weeks I knew I was pregnant! I hope you enjoy reading about the first trimester of my little fig’s life (that’s how big the baby is right now. I’ve never actually seen a fig, so I don’t know what it means.) and how I’ve been coping with the decaf coffee and lack of sushi. I’ll even start posting bump photos, once I’m out of the “Did she just have a big lunch?” phase and into the “Aww, how far along are you?!” phase.
Anyone else out there prego? How far along are YOU?!
Yep, it’s that time again. Time for another parenting fail. Although it may not be as much of a fail as a “Oh my gosh did that actually happen?!”
I’ll set up the week for you – normally, my kids have (for months) pooped once a day, right when they get up in the morning. One morning this week, they had BOTH, within sheer minutes of each other, had the sort of poop where you throw away the pajamas and put them straight into the bathtub. Yes, I literally threw away both sets of pajamas that same morning because it was easier than cleaning it out. But after that day, it seemed that they were pooping – imagine me saying this out loud in my best accent – ALL. DAY. E’RY. DAY. My best friend suggested maybe they’re eating too much fruit and getting too much fiber. I say, eh, they’ve always eaten a ton of fruit. Who knows.
So anyway, both kids are basically to the point in their lives that I don’t keep extra changes of clothes for them. When they’re newborns and spitting up and pooping that liquid poop, you sorta have to. But at this point, EK isn’t wearing panties yet, still in Pull-Ups, so no worries there, and J’s biggest problem is his knees are always dirty. Who cares about that, right? So that being said, by some freak (beautiful) accident, I had an extra pair of pants in the diaper bag when we went out to dinner last night with a couple of friends.
Blurry and devious J and Lauren. He’s thinking about what’s gonna happen in a minute…
Blurry but adorable EK and Aida! This was pre-potty problems.
What a yummy – and needed – margarita!
The kids, y’all, were angels. This place is pretty casual (it’s called The Porch Kitchen and Cantina… Tex-Mex, order at the counter, loud and bustling. We love it.) so the kids could make a little noise and no one was bothered. They ate really well, and were patient while we ate (which rarely happens, am I right?) so I’m thinking we’ve just had the perfect evening. Well, EK asks to go potty, so my friend Aida volunteers to take her. A few minutes after they left, J is squirming pretty awfully so I pull him out of the highchair and notice that he is stinky. So naturally I grab a diaper and wipes, and head to the bathroom. When I get there, Aida says, “Oh thank you! I didn’t know how to get help!” EK is on the changing table, no diaper, with poop on her legs. (Let’s all say a nice, “Poor Aida!”) Apparently, she had pooped a little in the potty – accidentally, of course – and it startled her, so she asked to get off the potty, and then did the rest in her Pull-Up. Then Aida didn’t have a new diaper or wipes to clean her up with. So I hand J to A, clean EK up and put her in the new diaper (the only diaper I had brought).
I take off J’s pants and realize the amount of poop he had was no joke. It’s on his clothes, shirt and pants. I send Aida for new clothes and a fresh diaper, and try to attack his mess. I literally think that I used most of the wipes cleaning up either J or the diaper station. (Yes I cleaned it up. No, you don’t have to worry about there being poop all over and it getting on your kid the next time you eat lunch there.) Aida comes back with the pants that were magically still in my bag, and his coat. Sorry, J, no shirt.
So he’s clean. EK is clean. I get back to the table, and the Hubby of the year looks at me and says, “Do you want me to take the kids home, and you girls can stay out and have a drink?”
We’ve had another Parenting Fail at the Hsu House. This time, no one is sure who to blame. No one is even sure when it happened. There was no real damage done to child or property, but the lingering effect, now completely fixed, was found after the fact.
yes, that is a toilet bowl. Yes, it is chock full of toilet paper. The basement bathroom we rarely use isn’t a typical place for my daughter to hang out, but she managed to sneak in, unroll half a roll of toilet paper, and fill up the toilet. Most surprising thing? It flushed right down with no problem. Thankfully.
I’m having a hard time with the irony that we are potty training right now, and when I want her to get ON the potty, she acts like she’d rather eat chicken livers, but when left to her own devices, it seems she’d play in it all day. Sheesh.
Here’s the culprit, clearly doing hard time.
Anyone else’s kid keep trying to get to the toilet?!
A couple of weeks ago, I took the kids to the children’s museum here in taken with my friend Rochelle and her kids. Her daughter Emery is 3 months older than EK and her son Dean is two months younger than J, so we can clearly see lots of play dates and slumber parties together in our future. Anyway, EK always takes a few minutes to warm up to the museum (we don’t go often enough) so once she got going, she was off. Emery was off in a hundred other directions, so naturally Rochelle and I didn’t spend too much time sitting and chatting. I was wearing J, Rochelle was strolling Dean, and those poor boys didn’t have time to chill.
A brief moment of togetherness, on the troll bridge.
Finally, the girls were getting a bit cranky (all four of us!) and needed some lunch, followed by naps all around. We decided on Moe’s, since it’s loud and fast and low-key, not to mention fun food for us all to eat. We packed the kiddos and unpacked the kiddos and ushered the kiddos through the line. Rochelle sandwiched the girls into a booth, and I situated myself in between the boys in their carseat carriers. EK and Emery were like popcorn – one was always popping up, turning around, watching the poor souls who also chose Moe’s as their lunch spot. Rochelle and I were losing our voices saying, “Sit down! Eat your lunch! Sit down! Drink your juice! Sit down! Get off the floor! Sit down! Wipe your mouth!” Talk about a broken record. I don’t feel like we were yelling, but we weren’t whispering. We weren’t being mean, but we were being firm.
After most of the quesadillas were eaten and “juices” (water with a splash of lemonade, of course) were drunk, Emery decided to stand up once more, turn around, and check out what was going on behind her. Rochelle and I had all but given up on finishing lunch sitting nicely, so we didn’t say much. EK, however, had finally gotten the point. She looked up at Emery, and firmly (rudely?) said, “SIT! DOWN! NOW!” Rochelle and I looked at each other… and tried very hard not to laugh. From the mouths of our babes, we hear what we sound like. Not that I needed a reminder that my little girl is a parrot, but I sure got one.
How hard is it, sometimes, to control your tone of voice? I know that when I need to tell EK something several times, my tone escalates each time. I almost always start softly and politely. But after I’ve told/asked several times, I begin to lose my patience. Especially if time or safety or politeness to others is a factor, I get firm and sometimes loud very quickly. I wouldn’t say overall that I’m a yeller, but I do raise the volume a little if the first and second (and third) time I say something doesn’t bring forth the desired response.
That day at Moe’s was a prime example of what she remembered about telling someone to do something. Since then, I have been more conscious of my tone and delivery of directions. I try to have a little more patience and grace. And yes, folks, it’s difficult. I have never claimed to be the most patient person in the world. I find myself hollering things like, “Get your shoes!” across the house as we prepare to go somewhere. If I catch her holding my iPad with one hand, I might shout something like, “Put that down, NOW!” a little less nicely than I could. But I’m improving, and doing the best I can. I’ve always been a loud lady, so teaching my daughter to reign her loudness is at best a little difficult for me. At least I’m honest, right?
Have you had that moment where your parrot child repeats something you’ve said, in that perfect tone of voice, and surprises you? Or even disappoints you?
This past weekend, my parents were up here from Georgia. Because of the renovations, there isn’t exactly a guest room, so we blew up a queen-sized air mattress, and they slept in the kitchen floor. I know – crazy. Anyway, the air mattress in the kitchen was a lovely plaything for the kiddos, and EK was making us laugh by calling all the pillows “puddles”. I’m not sure where the disconnect was, but no matter how many times I tried to correct her, it wouldn’t take. That may or may not have been because I was laughing so hard about her saying “puddles”.
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