You know you're a mommy if...
...…you pop out of bed to respond to a waking toddler…only to discover it was just your own nasty nose whistle. (courtesy of Karen H)
... your wildest dreams are no longer vacations in Tahiti but going to the bathroom without an audience.
... you've ever kept your infant in the Bjorn longer than necessary in a social situation 'cause the baby was covering up the stains on your sweat shirt.
... you change your whole menu plan to include spaghetti 'cause you need a bigger jar for the pet snails.
... you come home having to whiz like a racehorse, but stop to pick up the cat yak on the floor first. It's easier to wash your own pants than fish a fur ball out of a toddler's mouth .
... you press body parts up against the shower door to keep your kids entertained with a bouncing ass puppet show just so you can get a shower.
... despite the fact that it's KILLING your back, you'd rather stand awkwardly to cast your shadow on a baby you're trying to diaper in the sun.
Developmental stages: (in no particular order)
... they no longer want to be IN the stroller, they must be pushing it.
... if you have a girl -- it MUST be a dress, and it MUST twirl or no one can get out of the house.
... "Eleventeen"
... They discover that THEY can remove diapers and go exploring in the contents.
... "Mommy, watch me go poop!"
... After finally getting breastfeeding down, the baby goes into a stage where you're a jungle gym with boobs. At this point you decide that breastfeeding in public is no longer a viable option.
We had dinner with our dear friends Walt and Shauna. Shauna graciously offered to look after both girls if I ever needed time to do something. Shauna had helped pull my bacon out of the fire when Lexie was first born and in her scream all day mode by watching Angelina for a few hours every week. I was genuinely thinking I'd go nuts there for a while. It's gotten much better. Doug and I were talking about how nice it was of her to offer to watch both the girls when Doug wistfully said to me "I wonder if I could drop you off too?"
Oh, how our children teach us to be humble. Toilet training has been going on with varying degrees of success. I was being the ever vigilant mommy, sitting on a stool in front of Angelina with an appropriately sized wad of toilet paper in my hand ready to perform the wiping duties. Angelina was sitting on the throne, attempting to master the art of aiming INTO the toilet when, inevitably, an arc of pee went over the toilet seat and onto the floor. Of course I, wonder-mommy, bent down to wipe it up and was simultaneously reassuring her that it's okay, accidents happen, when she nailed me right on the top of the head with the next arc of flying pee. Now there's a peculiar sensation, popping back up to have drips of pee running down my scalp. Who says only boys need the pee guard? After that one I've learned to wait and clean up the WHOLE mess at once. Saves on shampoo.
While we were playing, Angelina said "You be the wind and I'll be the grass..." So we played at that, I blew on her and she wiggled. And then "You be the rainbow and I'll be (the sun)" I'm still wondering how I'm supposed to manage that one, but her creativity astounds me.
We were at the Dr's office for Lexie's 9 month appointment and Angelina's 3 year appointment. I'm so used to switching back and forth between English and German that I'm barely conscious of it anymore. Angelina just understands and complies (usually) to both languages. The Doctor, a new intern doing a pediatric rotation was really sweet. Actually tickled the girls and really made an effort to be personable at THEIR level. At one point he asked "What're you speaking?" Angelina and I replied at the same time. Angelina said proudly "I can speak Germans!" "Really? What can you say?" Angelina's response? Full of pride and obviously desiring to impress, she said "Gracias!"
We parents can be cruel at times, for our own entertainment. Doug informed Angelina that she had a pimple on her butt. This, of course, she had to come an announce to me while I was on The Throne. She twirled around and assumed the usual wiping position, butt in my general direction, grabbing ankles. Doug had to follow her, of course, joined shortly by Lexie who was delayed only 'cause she was crawling. So sure enough, the whole family was in the bathroom with me. Angelina complained that she couldn't see the pimple on her butt, so Doug told her that if she twirled fast enough, she could see her own butt. Now I don't know about you, but if anyone is going to warp the space/time continuum, it'll probably be a preschooler. Angelina had us in stitches twirling as fast as she could, but did not manage to twirl fast enough to stand behind herself in time to regard her own perfectly cute, pimple bedecked butt -- give her some time to practice.
Lexie's getting so cute. I'm just falling in love with her all over again every day. In the middle of the night, when she's nursing, she absent mindedly caresses me with her free hand. I swear there's no happier sensation than nursing a sleepy baby -- except maybe for actually sleeping. I taught her how to kiss. Now I say "kiss kiss?" and she comes at me with this open mouth slobbery kiss that never fails to make me laugh. Breastfeeding is such a joy. My body miraculously turns my love for my children into a liquid that nourishes their every cell. At night, when it's just me and my baby, and the whole world is asleep, I swear Angels watch us and smile.
On the other hand, we get back to my wildest dream -- to go potty without company. I thought it was bad enough that I have to keep Lexie from batting at the stream of pee as I'm on The Throne, but at least it doesn't take me that long to pee. Doug was saying that Lexie tends to whack at Thems That Dangle.
Angelina's going to Bug School (a wonderful preschool program at our local co-op preschool). What a howl! Obviously Doug and I aren't the only parents who are amused by giving our children disinformation. The first week it was Snails. We learned that they're called Gastropods 'cause their feet are actually their mouths. We learned that they have tentacles, two on top for seeing, two below for smelling. And so on... Angelina's biggest lament was that we weren't keen on her kissing her snail. I was greatly honored, however when the snail she caught on our walk had to be named Evelyn Grace. So Thursday I was working and at the closing circle time Teacher Sandy asked "What's another name for a Gastropod?" Aimee piped up "I know!!! I know!!! Another name for a gas-tro-pod is es-car-go!!!" Five minutes later the kids were asking me why I was still snuffing and a snorting with laughter.
Of course it's been a lot of fun to see how they get things charmingly screwed up. When it was switched from Snail week to Ant week, the ants apparently have ANTentacles. Someday she'll figure out that they're tentacles and antennae... but not today. She also must have figured out an important goof in her vocabulary. She's been saying "nail polish" all along when I occasionally paint her little toes pink, but when Teacher Sandy used nail polish to paint letters on their newly captive snails it became "snail polish" and has remained so ever since.
Lexie's "cruising." She's taken her first steps (9 months 2 weeks), but shows no great interest in taking more than one or two at a time. So she walks along any and all handy pieces of furniture. She's discovered that one of the great benefits of bipedal locomotion is that she can stand between the tub and the toilet and stomp in the cats' water dish.
Odd how we catch ourselves. Doug was derisively pointing out that something I had suggested was unlikely and used a creative phrase for it, telling me "That'll happen when pigs fly out of your ah, ah, ... uh, poh poh." I suppose I should be grateful that he didn't actually say ASS, but then Angelina's eyes got wide and she looked at me with an astonishment and reverence only a three year old can muster and asked "Mommy! Can you REALLY make pigs fly out of your poh poh?" I assured her that Daddy was just being silly, but it took a couple of weeks before she stopped looking at my butt with great expectation.
Gone are the days when I would try to put on a puppet show with one hand while I juggled a nursing infant with the other. Now I just pop out a boob and pop on the TV. At least there's a cute point to every episode of Dragon Tales and Berenstain Bears. I must say that I do force Angelina to watch my Tivo'd cooking shows. At least I get my nursing done and learn something new. If Alton Brown only knew. I've flashed him more tit than is usually seen at a New Orleans Mardi Gras!
Funny how kids'll follow you around. I pointed out to Doug that as I walked from one end of the house to the other, fully 50% of the population of the house went with me. For whatever reason, Lexie decided to follow Doug around for a while, probably 'cause I was in the kitchen standing still. All of a sudden I heard a loud expulsion of gas from Doug's general direction at which time he said "Oh, sorry Lexie. Daddy didn't mean to fart in your face." Her coughing fit did more to get Doug chagrined than all the protestations I've ever lodged when he pulled the covers up over my face.
Lexie's fully walking by now. She's about 3 weeks behind her sister. Angelina was storming the castle at 9 months. Lexie started walking at 10 months. Crazy looking at this little baby doing a Herman Munster lurch across the floor.
I suspect I'm going to come out of this parenting experience pretty darn stable. I've been whipsawed around in about a dozen ways. Angelina came up to me with her little chin quivering and gave me a big hug. She said "Mommy, I'm never going to let you die!" Are other three year olds obsessed with death? This topic comes up at least a couple times a week. We cuddled and hugged and I reassured her as much as I could without promising to get cryogenically preserved. Of course 15 minutes later she's sticking her tongue out at me for having had the temerity to suggest she clean up her own mess. Since sticking her tongue out at me is the toddler version of "Fuck you!" I don't put up with that. All this on a day when Lexie had the flu and was spewing at both ends. Either I'll be completely bipolar or I'll just take everything in stride. I suspect it'll be the latter.
I've been trying to get out of the toddler music, however discovered how difficult this would be. Just recently while listening to Enrique Iglesias, I realized I don't want her asking me what a "one night stand" is. Then there was Prince, one of my favorite artists, but somehow a song "You sexy Mother F*&(er" is just not something I'm going to let my 3 year old hear. Meatloaf's "Bat out of Hell" is right out. Finally I got out my Spanish music. I think it's called Margarita Mambo. I've also got Musica Del Sol and some others. They could be saying anything on that and we'd be cheerily singing along, utterly oblivious to the meaning of the words. At least Angelina won't be asking me "Mommy, why do bats want to fly out of hell?"
At least I've been able to curb most of my swearing, although Angelina did say "ScheiBe" in front of my mother who is one of the few people in Northern America who would know that it means "Shit" in German. We let that one slide by without comment. A friend of mine reported that her cherubic three year old had said "I'm having a fucking time with these socks!" She was, of course, utterly mortified but tried to hide it. The last thing we want them to know is that they can get a rise out of us. WOO HOOO! Keys to the kingdom when they find one of those buttons to push on a parent.
So on the day when Lexie was spewing at both ends, for some reason I got a little silly with the diaper cream and put a dab on Angelina's nose. Next came stripes under my eyes as if I were a football player -- except that Desitin is white. Pretty soon we were war painted out, all three of us with diaper cream in stripes on our faces. Thank heavens they invented Desitin creamy. At least now I can be silly and not smell like cod liver oil.
Manners do have their downside. Angelina's been getting hounded to say "Excuse me!" along with other social nicities. Mom did her best not to crack up when Angelina told her "Excuse me, but don't contradict me!"
"EUREKA" thought I as I found a way to keep the kids entertained while I was in the shower. I may have solved one of motherhood's most vexing problems: How the hell do I get a shower? (At all, much less regularly). I brushed my teeth ... with an audience, then swished with Listerine, having to explain in language a 3 year old can understand that it helps to clean teeth. I was trying to do the "cat bath" method in the sink with a wash cloth for the 3rd day an a row, and figured that just wasn't going to cut it. But then the question is how does one take a decent shower with a 3 year old and a now 1 year old? The answer came to me in a flash -- literally. Just a couple days before Doug had pressed his heinie against the shower door to show his opinion of what I had just said (long since forgotten) and Angelina had just howled with laugher. I figured I'd give it a go. I started with hands and feet. They both gamely patted the frosted glass door following my hands. This little puppet show was keeping them in stitches. I then started the bouncing ass portion of the puppet show. This was bringing down the house! I obviously got overconfident when I decided I could build in an intermission and shave some bits and pieces. I heard an odd coughing and asked Angelina what was happening. She calmly reported that she was cleaning her sister. I should have seen this coming. I got out of the shower only to discover that Angelina had poured Listerine on a washcloth and was scrubbing her strenuously objecting sister. We had to be out of the house in short order, so Lexie wore a slightly green sticky hairdo for the rest of the day. I'm back to taking cat baths. I'm afraid of what they'll think of next. If I'm gamey next time you see me, you'll know why.
Sometimes language is a tricky thing. In order to keep Angelina from getting too frustrated with Lexie, we wrote Lexie's Godzilla act into the Thomas the Train script. We'd get a track built and then scream with excitement "Uh oh! There goes Tokyo!" Except after a few months Angelina's changed it to "Uh oh! Pinocchio!" I just can't picture a huge Pinocchio saying "I want to be a real boy!" as he's stomping through Tokyo.
Then there's the famous Dr Seuss book "The Star Bellied Sneeches." Here I was thinking she'd get some wonderful lesson out of this not to judge people by the stars on their bellies. No. When we got home she was eating her snack nude as usual. What does she do? She took the strawberry jam from her toast and painted a star on her naked belly in jam. "Look mommy, I'm a strawberry sneech!"
Angelina and I were playing The Wizard of Oz. Anyone who's seen my hair knows I'm a shoe in for The Cowardly Lion. So she had her ruby slippers on and we wandered around the house while we played different scenes and each took different roles. Lexie quickly became ToTo. Angelina smacked my hand and I went into huge theatrics doing the cowardly portion of the Cowardly Lion's act. We were off to see the Wizard, but again things got charmingly mixed up. The Wizard apparently lives in The Emerald Island of Sodor. Of course the whole thing got derailed when Toto wanted to nurse on The Cowardly Lion.
