Wednesday, March 28, 2012


A few updates that haven't gone on Facebook but are on my mind:

- We really need Hazel to get potty-trained.  These are no longer mere poopies we're dealing with.
- We also need to get Hazel into a toddler bed.  As much as I'd like to keep her in a crib until she's 16. Kiddo crawled out of the crib this morning and woke me up with a sniffle in my face.
- As much as I heart Crossfit, I'm at an age that I can no longer do back-to-back days of thrusters without ending up with my massage therapist digging her elbow into my neck and making me cry.
- Grandma Paskins is the best at making up songs for the girls.  The current one:  Follow the leader, follow the leader, whatever Hazel/Millie does, WE. DO. TOO! has been branded into my brain all day. 
- I'm raising a pair of Dancing Queens.
- Sometimes, a Pinterest recipe actually does work out.  UNBELIEVABLE.
- I may have a quinoa problem, btw.
- Loving me some Spotify these days.  Where else can you put a playlist of Weezer, TLC, No Doubt and R. Kelly together and call it Old School? 
- Oh, R. Kelly.  You remind me of something, too. 
- Speaking of bank accounts.... I had no idea that when I was 34, I'd be this damn broke.  DAMN YOU, DAYCARE AND DIAPERS!
- Sand volleyball... I've actually missed you. 
- Being a mom to two girls is a lot of presha.
- Giving me one little girl with curly hair and one little girl with straight hair shows me that God has a sense of humor. Expecting me to be able to do their hair each morning shows me he has too much time on his hands.
- Really, America?  The price of gas is $4/gallonish, but we're worried about contraception?  REALLY?
- I wish all American women would band together and become abstinent.  And then watch the fireworks.  
- Really, Utah?  Teen pregnancies up 30%?  Teen STD's up 70%?  But yea... let's only teach abstinence.  GREAT IDEA.
- I think the worst thing about being a parent is booger removal and clipping finger/toe nails.
- Currently listening to Milli Vanilli and not afraid to admit it.
- Currently blaming things on the rain.
- It would be awesome if on the nights that Millie actually sleeps through the night, Hazel doesn't wake up with nightmares.  Or vice versa. 
- After thorough research, I'm ready to announce that the 2005 season was the best season of How I Met Your Mother.  You're welcome.
- Not sure how I lived without DVR.
- Sometimes, I forget that things like the radio or the tv in my hotel room don't have rewind features like DVR. And this upsets me greatly.
- Honestly, there needs to be a rewind button on life when you have kiddos.... just so you can relive the special moments.  And the moments that make you want to tear your hair out. 
- Girl, you know it's true.
- Chopped made me cry last night.  True story.

- Sometimes, I wish someone would actually try to mess with me. Just so I can take a swing punch them in the eyeball take a swing.
- Remember when I used to ride my bike to work?  
- Remember when gas was $1.85 and I was riding my bike to work?
- $3.65/gallon now and I'm driving an SUV.
- Principles are the first thing to go when you have kids.
- Followed quickly by your figure... and your mind.
- Of all the household chores, laundry is definitely the WORST.
- Followed by sweeping the kitchen floor.
- My little girls are serious crumbers. 
- Still haven't done taxes. Yowza.
- So I creep...
- The girls are ganging up on me so that there is not one moment of blessed silence in the house until they're both in bed.  When one of them is losing her mind, the other is fine.  Until the one losing her mind has been pacified or cried out.  Then THAT one starts in.  And so the cycle continues.  Circle of life.
- Speaking of which, I need to create an Elton John playlist. 
- B-B-B-Benny and the Jets.
- Volleyball tonight again. Weird that I haven't touched a basketball in YEARS?
- Ran out of wine in the house last night.  UNACCEPTABLE.
- While it's nice that Hazel is talking... a lot... it's hard because now I have to have to bring my A Game every single second she's awake.  Lest she outsmart me.  Again.
- Millie is very definitely half cat.  Tubby time is ruining my life. And causing me to drink way more wine than I should.
- That MPH girl on YouTube?  Watches too much Sarah Palin.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

One Year of The Bean

Dear Millie Bean,
We can't call you Chilly Millie anymore.  So sad.  Chilly Millie has officially left the building.  And possibly the Earth.  This is because you've had such a rough 2012, that I think it may have permanently altered your "chill" temperment.  And turned it into a "OMG!  MOMMY NEEDS TO HOLD ME 24 HOURS A DAY OR I'M GONNA CRY!  SCREW IT, I'M GONNA CRY ANYWAY" temperment.

So, that's been fun.

It's been a rough month for you again... mostly because you came down with a sinus infection and had to make another trip to the doctor's office.  Have I mentioned how much you love the doctor?  No?  Well, when the doctor walks into the room, it's like I have asked you to remove your eyeballs with a rusty spoon.  When we both know you prefer the plastic spoon with the monkey on it... which is your sisters favorite as well... which causes her face to melt off every time I make the mistake of letting her see me feed you with it.

So... yea.  Not a fan of the doctor.  Or nurse for that matter.  Or anything resembling a doctor, a nurse a doctor's office or the hospital.  And I feel so bad because I feel like I did that to you.  I feel like you were just this happy-go-lucky baby... who was damaged during the RSV sitch when you ended up getting an IV at the hospital.  I will always feel terrible for putting you through that. 

In the last months, you have started to really walk like you know what you're doing.  And you LOVE it.  You finally get to go room-to-room like your sissy and are starting to figure out your place in this world. Usually, that's directly under Mommy or Daddy's feet.  And sometimes it's with your feet right in Hazel's face.  Which is what we call payback for her putting her feet on your face when you were an infant and unable to defend yourself.  Yea... Mommy just laughs because we all know what they say about paybacks, right?  They're swampy and have 10 toes.  

But, I digress.  You are getting around quite well these days and I knew that the time had come to introduce you to shoes because you were destroying all of your socks with all the walking you were doing at day care.  And also?  We were losing a lot of socks at day care because you refuse to keep your socks on. So, the first time I tried to put shoes on you, I think you thought your feet were on fire.  The fit  you threw would have been funny... if it hadn't been so frustrating and heartbreaking.  (By the way, you have discovered how to cry in such a way that Mommy thinks that your heart?  Really breaking.  Which makes my heart break. In short, you've figured out my weakness.  Awesome.)  The next day, I tried again... and you were surprisingly less combative about it.  It was as if you had resigned yourself to the inevitable.  But really, I think you figured out that Hazel wears shoes and that's cool.  And putting on shoes means that you get to sit on my lap a little longer.  But you were very happy at the end of the day when I took them off.  And that's when I discovered that the size 5's were a bit tight for you.

So, yes... at 1 year old, you are now wearing size 6 shoes.  Or... should be wearing size 6.  But because I couldn't find the size 6 in the massive bag of hand-me-down shoes from Hazel and our many friends with little girls older than you, I figured I would get some use out of the 6.5 size shoes that your sister grew out of in 2 weeks.  You know... really get my $20 worth out of them.  So, you're walking around in size 6.5 shoes... and you lurve them.  You sound like a giant coming down the hallway in them because you haven't quite figured out how to not walk bow-legged and bend your knees.  All we hear is thump, thump, thump... CRASH.  Then thump, thump, thump again.  Yep... you lurve you some shoes.

You've had some trouble sleeping at night as of late.  Not sure what it is but you'll often wake up crying and the only thing... THE ONLY THING... that calms you down is a bottle of warm milk.  And... yea, you're 12 months old.  And you have never missed a meal.  You don't need to nurse a warm one in the middle of the night. But the problem is... your cries.  They are just soooo sad.  And I always end up going into your room on the off chance that you have a dirty diaper (you don't) or you've got a leg stuck in the crib (you haven't).  And as soon as I go in there, you freak out and try to crawl out of my arms until I get a bottle from your Daddy... who is also up thanks to your crying.  I'm serious... there is no calming you down without a bottle.  We'd have better luck if we just let you cry it out... but it's been hard for me to let my "Chilly Millie" cry it out.  Remember, at one point you never asked for much... REMEMBER THOSE DAYS?

So, now that you're the big 01, Mommy has decided to show you a little tough love.  Last night you woke up crying and I didn't go in to check on you, and you eventually went back to sleep. And, we are slowly phasing out bottles. Let's face it, you've got a thing for your bottle.  You love your bottle.  Way more than your sister ever did.  In fact, when I get you out of the crib in the morning, and put a sippy with milk in front of you, you scream and scream and then toddle into your room where the bottle from last night - that still had milk in it - is and you point to it as if to say:  THIS.  THIS IS WHAT I WANT, MOMMY.  GIVE. IT. TO. ME.

As your Mommy, I'm constantly learning and growing and trying to figure out how to outsmart you.... and trying to figure out what's the best thing you need.  And after that little incident, I decided that if you are old enough to indicate that you want your bottle of milk rather than a sippy of milk... NOW YOU'RE JUST BEING UNREASONABLE. AND KIND OF BRATTY. So we're about a week out of Mommy getting rid of all bottles.  I am doing this because I know at day care?  You totally use the sippy.  It's only when you come home that you insist on the bottle.   Listen... you've got your blankie that you must have at all times.  You don't also get to have a bottle.  I'm sorry kiddo.  I don't make the rules. Well, actually I do... it's just an unfortunate rule for you, that's all.

You still love playing with your sissy.  And when she is playing with you and interacting with you, you are the happiest girl on the planet.  At least until she plays just a bit too rough and you end up with a boo-boo.  Which happens often, but not as often as one would think... because, let's face it, you're a bit of a bruiser. You can take a hit.  And dish it out.  Life should be interesting in our house for the next 16 years or so.

I don't know what's gotten into you about Tubby Time, but you are not having any of it as of late.  You scream the entire time in the tubby and try to crawl out.  I suspect that it's because a month ago you got a faceful of water when you flipped on to your tummy while playing in the tub and it freaked you out.  I was right there so there was no danger of you drowning, but you have not forgotten it.  Oh... and also, every time I attempt to wash your hair, I believe you have flashbacks to the "near drowning" as it will soon become known... once you're able to talk and turn me into CPS.  But seriously, baby girl... I gotta wash that hair!  It's starting to stink!  So, the new rule is Tubby Time every night (every other night?  three times a week?  monthly???) just to get you used to it.  I know, I know... I'm about to make myself miserable every night for the next few months... but practice makes perfect, right?

But tubby time is nothing compared to diaper change or clothes change time.  Holy mother of all that is holy, baby girl... you are worse than shoving an octopus into a wet paper bag.  You cry the entire time and flip from back to front and kick me in my special mommy parts.  DAILY.  And you know what?  You've been like this from day one.  I keep waiting for you to grow out of this stage... but I now think it will never happen.  I keep hoping you'll watch your older sissy get her diaper or clothes changed and notice how much easier it is on her and how much happier she is.  But when you do watch her cooperate with Mommy... I see something of a glint of mischief in your eye. And I know that this... this can't be good.

I miss your giggles and smiles, baby girl.  You are so focused on being held by me all the time that when I put you down to give my arms a break, or to pull your sister out from inside the dishwasher or the water tank of the toilet, you start screaming and crying and making such a fuss that I can't believe I ever thought you were gonna be my "easy" baby.

Dude... we soooo have to get you learning sign language. IT'S A MUST.

But through all of it, the ups, the downs, the walking, the illness, the tubby time madness... I still love you more than anything.

And I can't believe it's already been a year.


How To Lose Your Mind In 10 Minutes

"Hazel, will you please throw that in the garbage?"
"Please go throw that banana peel in the garbage for Mommy."
"The banana peel that you just threw on the floor.  Please pick it up and throw it in the garbage."
"Hazel... Mommy asked nicely.  Please throw the banana peel in the garbage under the sink."
"Are you kidding me with this?"
"Huh?  What?"
"Okay... maybe Millie will throw it in the garbage for me."
"Millie!  Will you take this to the garbage for Mommy?"
(thump, thump, thump, thump)
"NO!!!  I wanna trow away!"
"Sorry.  But I asked you 15 times to do it."
"Yep.  So, now Millie gets to do it."
"You heard me. Here you go, Mills."
"No!  MY. BA.NA.NUH. I trow it away!"
(silence while she throws the banana peel away)
"Thank you for being such a good helper."
"Maybe next time, you can do it the first time I ask, how about that?"
(another sigh)
(cuz I know what's coming next)
"Can you please go get your shoes for school?"
"Please get your shoes so we can go see our friends at school?"
"What's that?"
"That's the lamp."
"That's the lamp."
"Go get your shoes."

Is it any wonder I'm late to work every day? 

Thursday, March 22, 2012


The first time I put shoes on Millie, I had some serious concerns that she might have a sensory disorder of some kind.  She freaked out.  FREAKED. OUT.  It was like I had dipped her feet in acid and then tried to paint her toenails.  I couldn't believe it.  Hazel never had a problem with shoes.  More than anything, she was amazed by these things on her feet and she'd always bend from the waist to get nose to nose... with her shoes. 

But Millie... WOW. Polar opposite. So, the first day of shoe wearing... pretty much ruined her life.  The second day didn't go much better and I bailed on even fighting the fight and she went to school in socks.  The third day, I was gearing up for another knock-down-drag-out cluster, but managed to distract her with a little Super Why.  (Side note:  Super Why = my guilty pleasure for being able to contain the kiddos while I get ready for work in the mornings when Benny isn't home.  And I don't even care if you judge me for it.  THINGS. GET. DONE.)

And since that day?  Guess who has been fascinated with shoes?  Guess who can't get enough of shoes?  Guess who insists that I put shoes on over her footy pj's at night and in the morning when she wakes up so that she can walk all around the house making loud noises with her shoes? Guess who brings me her shoes, and then turns around and plops her little diaper-padded booty on my lap and lifts up her foot for me to put on said shoe EVERY. WAKING. MOMENT?  Oh, and guess who will wait for me to put on her shoes, and then toddle off... find a different pair of shoes, bring those over and then plant her booty on my lap so that I can put those shoes on instead?

On another topic, guess who has taken to hiding all but one pair of shoes from her 1-year-old because she's got other things to do than put shoes on and take shoes off ALL DAY LONG?

So... yea, I'm raising a bit of a shoe freak right now.  I'm sure that this, too, shall pass.   She is, after all, her mother's daughter.  And her mother never wore shoes when she was a kiddo.  As evidenced by her size 11 wides.  And the amazing callouses from running around the farm barefoot.  Seriously... how I still have all of my toes and didn't end up with tetanus is beyond me. 

It's hard not to compare my two girls and their development, these days.  Hazel started crawling at about 8 months, and while Millie didn't start crawling until about 9 months, she had perfected the Army Man crawl for about a month prior to that.  Hazel started experimenting with walking at 11 months, but wasn't exactly efficient with it until she was about 14 months old.  In fact, Benny was always positive that she was going to crack her face open or knock out a tooth whenever she walked outside so he became the helicopter parent that we make fun of now.  Millie didn't start walking until she was about 12 months, so just a little behind Hazel.  But already, she's a pro.  She's almost running.  And she LOVES it.  There is nothing she likes better than to stomp down the hall in her shoes with her mouth wide open, her eyes twinkling and making her favorite animal noise.... ARRRGGGHHH.  (That, by the way, is the sound she thinks every animal makes:  bears, tigers, elephants, kittens, zebras... butterflies.)

And OMG... when she finally figures out how to bend her knees and sees how much more efficient that is than walking like Frankenstein's monster, we're really gonna be screwed. 

And the teeth thing... we don't worry about it as much with Millie as we did with Hazel.  The reasons are many:

1) At 1 year, Hazel had all but her first year molars in.  Millie has um... 4.5 teeth.
2) At 1 year, Hazel always fell face first.  For the love... at 2.5 years, Hazel still falls face first.  Millie has figured out pretty quickly that the butt hurts less than the face.
3) With 2 kiddos, Benny and I have perfected the art of the unconcerned:  "Dust yourself off!" parenting when one of the kiddos takes a tumble.  Which is to say we utter this particular phrase 25 times a day.  75 times a day on the weekends.  150 times a day on summer weekends.

Millie knows how to climb down the stairs backwards on her belly.  She also knows how to get off the couch/bed feet first.  Hazel refused to go down the stairs any other way than the way Mommy and Daddy did.  Which meant that she didn't get to be around stairs by herself for a long time.  Of course, it wasn't that long ago that she road a choo-choo train down the stairs... and survived. And always exited head first from the couch of bed.  Because she didn't doesn't understand danger.  That's what her teacher tells us, anyway.  Which is awesome to hear.

But honestly, these two kiddos could not be more different in the way they approach the world.   Hazel is a Daddy's girl.  Always has been.  When she actually needs Mommy or wants Mommy, there's no greater feeling in the world.  But, first choice?  Always Daddy. 

Millie?  Millie is, and will likely always be, a Mommy's girl.  Sometimes she'll snuggle with Daddy which makes him happy.  But end of the day.  Mommy rules.  Which is something she needs to teach her older sister. 

Hazel has always liked to get out and mix things up.  At 1 year, she wasn't shy at all.  And a friend of ours, who happens to be a cop, once called her "An Abduction Waiting To Happen".  This is because Hazel would go up to complete strangers, hold her arms up and grunt until they picked her up.  Hazel always quickly adjusts to her environment.  Millie likes to sit on Mommy's lap and check out the sitch for about an hour before venturing out and seeing what the deal is.  But usually, she quickly returns to sit back on my lap and watch.  And forget about strangers... Millie is NOT down.

Hazel has about a dozen "bwankies" that she likes to play with or sleep with.  But not a particular favorite.  It doesn't matter which blanket I send to school with her or put in bed with her, she's happy.  Millie... Millie has to have a particular blanket that Grandma Paskins made for her.  And if she doesn't have that blanket or if she somehow loses it during the night, things get bad.  Very, very bad.  This means that we don't often get to wash that blanket.  And I'll be the first to admit that today, I smelled the blanket... and almost gagged. THAT THING NEEDS TO BE WASHED THIS WEEKEND.  It could start walking on its own at this point. 

But it's not just the blanket that smells.  Seriously... I'm worried that Millie is going to end up being the stinky kid in class because that kid HATES baths.  Hazel has loved baths since day one.  During her AWFULNESS (her first six weeks of life), baths were the only thing that would calm her down and stop her never-ending screaming.  Millie never liked baths and the only time she would cry was when she was IN the bathtub.  She started getting the hang of it a few months ago and loved playing with Hazel in the tub, but about a month ago, she slipped in the tub and got water in her face.  I was right there and there was no chance she was going to drown.  (In fact, this may have been an example of me taking the "Dust yourself off!" too far.)  But ever since then... holy mother of everything that is unholy and unnatural.  I can't get her in the tub.  And if I do get her in the tub, I can't KEEP her in the tub.  I've tried everything.  I've even gotten in the tub with her so she could sit on my lap.  NOTHING. DOING. Every time we take a tubby, it's a scene straight out of Carrie. Minus the blood.  Add the poop.  Because while she didn't actually poop in the tubby, this was only because she wasn't IN the tubby.  But because of my natural athleticism, I was able to grab toilet paper and catch the poopy as it came out of her bummy.  Because that's what good mothers do.  And that's what good mothers will hold over their children's heads when they start to smart off when they're 15.

Yep... but with that being said, I am well aware that tubby time is what Millie's going to hold against me when she gets older.  And because of that, Millie doesn't get as many tubby's as she should be getting.  It always ends up with me soaking wet and Millie in tears.  And Hazel sometimes in tears because obviously something is wrong and she's not getting the attention she should be... so how about we all break down and cry?

We can't keep Millie in her high chair.  The kid is always maneuvering around and you look away for one second to slice her some strawberries and you look back to see her standing up in her chair, facing backwards... clapping.  She's a freaking Houdini.  I've tried buckling her in.  I've tried holding the tray close to her body so that she finishes eating instead of getting distracted by something shiny.  But... no go.  She still manages to get out.  It's like a challenge to her.  And because of that, tonight (despite my very real concerns that CPS will somehow find out about this) I'm going to use a belt to strap her to the chair... by strapping it under her arms so it's similar to the car seat.  Because it's either that or put her food on the floor so I don't worry about her falling out of the chair if I turn my back. And while the floors are clean today because the housekeepers made a visit yesterday, I cannot make that promise for the next three weeks.

Meanwhile, Hazel who never had an issue in the high chair, finds it a double-standard that I don't take Millie's food away when she keeps getting out of her seat.  This is because Hazel has become a total squirmy butt and will not stay in her booster... or perches on the arm of her booster... so that she can put her feet on Millie's tray.  Or steal Millie's peaches.  And because at this point, I'm at the end of my very short rope, and have warned her three times, I take away her food because "Obviously you're done because you aren't sitting in your chair like a big girl."  Yea... I hate nights that have me uttering these words.  But what Hazel doesn't understand is that if Millie doesn't eat all of her dinner, she wakes up in the middle of the night to eat.  Which is something Hazel NEVER did.  Because Hazel always ate like a horse at this age. It's only been recently that she's become picky.  And for that, I blame day care... but that's a whole different post about the nutrition day care and schools and the government think are appropriate for kids. 

But yea... Millie's been waking up in the middle of the night to eat.  I think that she's actually just thirsty, but holy crap.  Try going in her room without the perfectly warmed bottle of water (because guess who won't drink cold water?) and watch the 1-year-olds head explode.  It has been months since either Benny or I slept through the night.  If Millie doesn't wake up?  Hazel has a nightmare and has to be comforted.  If Hazel sleeps through the night, Millie is sure to get thirsty and raise holy hell in her room at 3 a.m. until you finally give up the power struggle and go get her some freakin' water.  Or find her blankie for her. 

But for all of their differences, the girls do have a couple of things in common.
1) They love each other.  Almost as much as they hate each other.
2) They are both smart.  Scary smart. 
3) They both keep us on our toes
4) They both have parents who love them more than anything in the world
5) They both need a bath.