She's trixie

I have an update for my last post on Grace's shape box retardation. Today I caught her playing with it when she thought I wasn't looking, and she was putting all the shapes in the right holes, no problem. WTF? Maybe she doesn't think it's cool to be smart.

Also, here are a billion pictures I took of Grace playing in Henry's crib.

 

Shaping the future

Today we went to toddler time at the library. It's just like the regular story time, except after the songs and stories they get out a box of toys for the kids to play with. That's the only part Grace participates in. This time she picked up one of those shape toys (the ones with the little bucket with the lid that has holes, and you have to put the little shape toys in the right shaped hole). She found a spot on the floor and started playing with it. I think this was her first experience with this kind of thing, because she didn't really know what to do with it. After a few minutes a baby crawled over, and put all the shapes in the right holes for her. We felt like super idiots after that, so we left, and drove to Walmart to get her one of her own. We've been working on it off and on for about 2 hours now. I've always thought Grace was super smart. Like smarter than all the other kids her age that we know. Ya know, just like every parent thinks. Now I'm starting to reconsider. I don't know how many times I've gone over all the shapes with her, and how to match them to the right hole. Probably a million. I don't even think she's paying attention. She waits until I'm done explaining, and then she just hits the box with the shape as hard as she can. Then when that gets old she starts hitting herself in the head with the shape. Is this normal behavior for a two year old? I gave up for a while, so Jeff is in her room practicing with her now. I think his voice is getting louder and louder every few minutes. It's like when you talk to someone who doesn't speak english, and somehow you think if you speak louder they will understand you. I'm glad that Grace got some good looks, because now I'm questioning if she got any brains. I will have to be more weary of the activities we attend with the smart babies, so we don't make ourselves look like idiots again.

Feed Me

I think I've finally gotten over the misery of pregnancy, and the chaos of a new baby. I'm enjoying things again, and loving being a mom. Last night after dinner me and Grace went for a nice long drive in her new power wheels car, and I kept thinking how weird it is that I have a child old enough to have a conversation with. Our family used to be so young. It was just me, Jeff, and a new baby. Now we're a family of four, and every day I feel surprised to see them all. I love watching all the things our kids can do. Weird little things like eating, and going to the bathroom. I'm fascinated by these functioning little bodies we've created. Almost every day either me or Jeff say, "Can you believe we're parents?" It's been 2 years now, and we're still in shock. I wonder if we'll ever get used to it, or if we'll always feel like this life we have is new and exciting.

Anyway, enough of that mushy stuff. I'm on this new dairy-free diet, and I feel like I might starve to death. You would not believe how many foods contain dairy. All I want is a big glass of milk. And a brownie. And some cheese. And some chocolate ice cream with milk on it. Dairy makes Henry sick for some reason, so until I stop nursing this is going to be my life, and I'm going to be really pissed about it. The only good that can come of this is if it makes me lose weight faster. I don't think I can take any more of my thighs rubbing together when I run. Gross, I know. They need to make private gyms for new mom's, so you don't have to run next to skinny, hot people on the treadmill. Or sweaty old men with B.O.

Well, that's all for now. I'm supposed to be watching The Hobbit with Jeff. Booooring.

Poop City

I've had alot of requests for a post on Henry's birth, and life at our house with two 2 year old's. Well, in case you are wondering, it's crazy town over here. I don't think I'll ever have time to write all the details of Henry's birth, but it went so well. I'm really happy with our plan to go the hospital route this time. The doctor's and nurses were awesome, and really supportive of our decisions. I felt good through the whole thing, and was so happy to see Henry at the end.

Grace's birthday is in a week. I can't believe she's not even 2 already. She's such a teenager. She just started calling me Mom. I think she felt embarrassed still calling me Mama in front of her friends. She's had a hard time adjusting to a little brother. She's been pretty mean. I'll just leave it at that, because I don't want to record the awful things she's done over the internet. She has started climbing out of her crib. I'll put her to bed, and she'll walk out like 5 minutes later, acting all casual. She also refuses to keep a diaper on as soon as it's been pee'd or pooped in. So, sometimes if she's in her crib when she poops, she'll take her diaper off, pick up poop, smear it on the bars a little bit, throw it at the wall, step in it, and then get a clean diaper out of the bag hanging on her crib, and put it on. I'm just kidding about some of that. Maybe only the throwing it at the walls part. She obviously needs to be potty trained, and put in a big girl bed, but I just can't think about those things right now. I think I need a nanny. How do people ever have more than one kid? Grace has been doing the funniest stuff. Today at Harmons she picked up some candy off a shelf, and then hid it behind her back, so I wouldn't take it from her. She likes to walk instead of ride in the cart now, so shopping takes like ten times longer. Right after me and Jeff got married he bought me a big box of tampons from Costco. Right after that I found out I was pregnant, and then I was nursing, and then I got pregnant again, so the box is still sitting in out linen closet. Grace has been sneaking in there and taking them. Today she walked out with one, and said, "Treat!". Then she stuck it in her mouth, and chewed on it for a while. Maybe I will put some in our diaper bag for church on Sunday. She loves her little brother. Yesterday we were picking up Jeff from work, and Henry was crying. After a while Grace said, "Henry baby, don't cry." Every morning when she wakes up, she comes straight to our room to find Henry, and give him a "miss". She also kisses him throughout the day, and every night when she goes to bed.

I really love Grace alot, and I'm so happy that it's her birthday soon. She deserves a whole day dedicated to her. She had alot of trouble with sleeping before Henry was born, and I spend quite a bit of time rocking her, and singing to her in the middle of the night, and I was really bugged about it. I prayed alot that she would just sleep through the night, and give me a break, and I never got what I asked for, so I was mad and bitter about that for a while. Now that I've had Henry, alone time with Grace doesn't happen very often. Almost never. I wish I just had a few minutes, a few times a day, to just sit with her, and talk to her, and hold her. Now looking back at the time I spent with her in the middle of the night, I don't feel bitter about my unanswered prayers anymore. It was the last time in my life that I would only have to worry about one child. I didn't feel guilty, because there was another child crying, and waiting for me. I didn't have throw-up on my shirt, making me uncomfortable. I didn't have to hurry, and get to anybody else. It was a sweet blessing that I'm so thankful for. Grace is extremely smart, and so funny. We're really thankful to have her in our family.

Henry is such a cute baby. He smiles and laughs all the time. He's had some trouble with eating, and sleeping, but I'm on a new dairy free diet, and that seems to be helping. Helping him, I mean. I'm starving all the time. He is sleeping better now, though, and doesn't cry nearly as much. Ok that's all I have time for. I may have to give up blogging altogether, because there's just no time, but I'll try to update when I can.

Sometimes when my shirt is soaked in spit-up and I have 80's hair, because I don't have time to use a straightener, I have to remind myself of all the things I'm thankful for.

Jeff.

Having to wait so long to have Henry, even though I was so sure he was coming a month ago, because it gave me some time alone with Grace that I will never have again.

Being tired- it means that I've been accomplishing something.

A dog that sits next to me with her head in my lap while I cry, because I can't find anything clean to wear.

A healthy baby.

Hot baths.

Good friends who feed us when we're too overwhelmed to feed ourselves.

A little girl who folds her arms for prayer every night, says please when she wants something, and can't leave the house without giving everyone a kiss and a hug, and knowing that I taught her that.

Mesh undies

Cheese and grapes

Elmo's World

A luxurious night

Right now I'm laying in my bed, propped up by a couple pillows, with Sadie laying next to me sleeping. It's almost like the perfect setting, except Sadie keeps farting. The only reason I'm afforded this luxury is because Jeff has a nasty cough, and has to sleep in the living room. His coughing makes me feel like I'm being infested with germs, and I have to stop breathing. I should be going to sleep now, but I've been taking naps off and on all day. I've gotten to the point in my pregnancy where moving at all is almost impossible. I don't know if I'm low on iron or if I've just been lacking sleep, because I can feel all of Jeff's spit falling on my face as he coughs next to me. I have lost all my energy. I can't even carry a laundry basket downstairs right now, and that means that out of the two outfits that fit me, sometimes neither one of them are clean, and I can't get dressed at all. Not that it matters, because going somewhere means I have to put makeup on, which makes my arms tired. Jeff thinks that this means I'm in the final stages before I go into labor, which is probably true, because I'm having contractions all day long. We're in a real predicament, though. If I go into labor before Jeff gets over his sickness he's not going to be able to come to the hospital with me. I try to imagine that I'm going to be feeling so good with my epidural that I won't mind, but I think I really will. Plus, if I go into labor before January 1st then our insurance deductible won't have started over yet, and it will cost us $400 that we could have saved. I only pretend to care about this part for Jeff.

Tonight we put Grace's little kitchen together. It's the Christmas present I'm most excited about. She's going to love it, and I can't wait to see her see it on Christmas morning. We've been trying to start some traditions this year, now that Grace is a little older, and can understand things. I bought her a little book about the reason we celebrate Christmas. It's really short and simple, so it's perfect for her. She loves reading it, and brings it to me all day long. We also want to do some kind of service on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. We want to make sure our kids grow up knowing how good it feels to help someone else. I feel like I'm more excited about Christmas now than I was when I was little. Christmas morning cannot come soon enough.

Sorry I don't have any pictures to post. I did get pictures of Grace after she tried to paint her own nails yesterday, but getting up to get the camera would probably take me longer than it took to write this whole blog post. 

A Christmas Emergency

I'm starting to panic about Santa. At what age do you start teaching your kids about Santa? Like how long can I go without it? I'm really bad at telling lies. It's almost painful for me. I actually perfer the awkwardness of the truth. Always. What if my kids catch me in the lie? How much time are we going to spend on something, every Christmas, that's totally made up? It seems so wrong. I don't want my kids to be those weirdo's at school who don't participate in regular traditions, but Santa is just so much work. I want my kids to understand the real reason we celebrate Christmas. Not just some made up story to keep them behaving all year round. And I want all the credit for the presents they get each year. Is there some alternative? Would it be weird to tell them that Santa fills our stockings, and that's it? Will they get confused when they talk to other kids about Santa? Help me.