No Wanna Nap

As we speak, Gavin is chanting from his crib "NO WANNA NAP!" I have to say that I'm still adjusting to his resistance to naps. Baeleigh always went down for a nap with absolutely no trouble. She napped well into 5 years old. I think I'll be lucky to make it to 3 with Gavin. Though I'm learning that if I time them right after lunch, like 12:30pm, he easily agrees to it. Now at 3:28pm, or really any time after 1:30pm, he fights me. And, by fighting I mean kicking and screaming all the way up the stairs. This is proceeded by 10-30 minutes of crying and if I'm lucky an actual hour of napping, but normally more like 30 minutes.

And, I say that Baeleigh is strong-willed and stubborn.

Bedtime Stories

I've always thought that Baeleigh had my independent streak. And she does, but unfortunately Gavin may have gotten it passed on to him as well along with a dash of attitude from at least one of his parents (pointing at Tommy). If there is a stereotype for a little boy, there's a picture of Gavin underneath of that description. He hits, kicks, smacks, pulls the dogs tail, runs off from me, throws nasty temper tantrums, pinches and will even laugh if you hurt yourself. All that and you can't help but stiffle a laugh when he yells at me: "Bop it, Mommy!" and raises his hand up at me to smack me. Or he squinches up his nose and says, "I no wannit, Mommy!" He'll fit to the bitter end (of the stairs or into this room) when bedtime comes, but once he's changed and I mention that mommy will read him a story, he quiets down and climbs into bed. He prepare his spot with his 10 stuffed buddies encircling him, props his head up on his hands and says, "Story mommy." Just the expression on his face as he readies himself to listen intently to the same two stories that he asks for every night (I have got to expand his book collection - Baeleigh's old ones are long gone) is priceless.

And, for a two year old, he's got quite the opinion on him. For example, lately his requested bedtime reading has been repeatedly Brown Bear, Brown Bear - What Do You See? I try to make this as interactive as possible for two reasons: 1) it distracts him from realizing that he's actually going to bed (prevents the whole tantrum scene) and 2) because he needs some encouragement to remember colors and numbers. (If I ever get this child to recognize colors, it'll be a miracle. Baeleigh knew colors at like 1 1/2.) So, I read, "Red bird, red bird, what do you see? I see a....goldfish looking at me!" Gavin's response: "Mommy, bite you!" "Goldfish won't bite you!", "Yes, BITE-CHOOO MOMMY!" and nodding his head furiously with eyes popped wide open. Not sure where the fascination is with everything biting you came from, but nonetheless. And, it's always the goldfish, the dog and the horse. Go figure! Whoever's telling him that they bite, I have yet to figure out. Meanwhile, as I turn each page, Baeleigh is attempting to interject her daily word minimum on me with some loose tie in to whatever random animal I turned the page too. "Yeah, Gavin, white dog. You know Mr. Guido's white dog, Tinkerbell, yeah, she came over and peed in our yard and G said go home Tinkerbell and kept shooing her away and she just kept barking but Gavin was made because he dropped his popsicle on the ground..." Something like that. You know, the sentences that never end or have a breath of a pause in sight. Mental note: Increase separate Baeleigh-Mommy time so that she can expunge her brainload of thoughts on me in peace, and not during Gavin's bedtime routine.

Neither kid never ceases to amuse or surprise me.

Bee Boy!

Gavin turned 2 on Wednesday. As he would say, "I bee boy!" Indeed! Our little boy has also graduated into his toddler bed, meaning the front rail of his crib has now been taken off. Two weeks before his birthday, he climbed out of said crib and met Daddy in the bathroom to say good morning.

Amazingly, the conversion hasn't been so bad. Gavin, in all his big boy responsibilities, has also given up his binkie. And, thank goodness, because he had practically gnawed through his last one. He didn't really use them to suck on anyway. More like cutting his teeth. The last one's predecessor could have been used as a cheese cloth it had so many holes in it. But, back to sleeping in a big boy bed. He's been really good about it, climbing right in and laying down. Tommy and I are stunned. We're still thinking that he's just enamored with the junior pillow we provided him. There are drool marks all over it.

The last two nights though, he's been a little more reluctant to be put to bed. He climbs in happy enough, but once I tuck him in and hand him his Tigger or Doggie and I get the mega frowny face. Pull the heart strings why don't ya, kid! So, I kneel next to his bed on the couch cushions that we've placed in front of it to act as a safety net for any rolling off the bed and just rub his face or hair. The frown deepens. He almost seems afraid for me to leave him. I offer to read him a story, and he acknowledges with, "uh-huh, story". So I break out a little Goodnight Moon and such and he intently follows along, then I try to tuck him in again. Same pouty lip. At some point though, it me or him that has to cave and so far I've been brave. Ok, not without one last snuggle in my arms before he climbs back into bed the final time. Then, kisses, "mwahs", a flip of the switch to start the fan and walk out and shut the door behind me. Miraculously, not a peep is made and he falls to sleep.

Love you, bee boy!

Things I Remember About You: Gavin

In continuation of my montage of thoughts to not forget about my little ones. I realize Gavin's a lot younger, but there is no shortage of things to remember:

-Jumping as hard as you could in your jumperoo, only to fall asleep in it later on
-Countless walks with mommy while on maternity leave to calm your colic
-Wanting to be on mommy's hip or by my side every second I was near you
-Shoving your arms between mommy's chest and your body when I hold you against me
-Your kitty cat sound with the toss of your head from side to side - Meeeeoooooow
-Wrapping your arms around my leg to give me a hug or just coming over and laying your head in my lap, just because
-Screaming "Ant!" then proceeding to immediately stomp on it
-Pots and pans and tupperware
-Growling or roaring at me
-Your shrill, high-pitched screams
-Chomping holes into your binkies
-You're a sweat ball
-Fascination with your sister's flip flops, and to Daddy's shagrin most especially the pink ones
-Love of dancing and your innate ability to have rhythm (which your sister doesn't have)
-Strong-willed independence (no idea where you get that from)
-Calling your sister "Bae-Bae", but you can't pronounce your own name
-Hatred for being dressed or spending any time on the changer
-Your love of the outdoors
-The way you say "Buh, byyyyyyyye" drawn out
-A bottomless belly, as you never EVER turn down food
-Tinkering with the remote, and your uncanny ability to totally screw up the TV, cable box, etc. taking Mommy or Daddy minutes to fix what you did in a second (e.g., closed captioning on the cable box)
-Walking and swinging your arms and clapping them together
-Constant fascination with daddy's truck (half fear, half intrigue)
-Enthusiasm for all sports, especially cars, to Daddy's excitement ("vroom-vroooooms")
-Looking up to your sister, already being a shadow

Gavin will be 2 in 4 days and I have absolutely no idea where that time went, but I also can't wait to see him grow and develop into a wonderful young man. I have no doubt that Baeleigh and Gavin will both grow up to be productive, successful and loving adults. And, I guess I can say, along with Tommy, "yeah, I did that."

Things I remember about you: Baeleigh

I'm being a little nostalgic lately. There's an inner debate rumbling in my head. I'm 32 years old, 2 kids, a husband of nearly 8 years, great career...and I feel old. Ever feel like you've somehow passed all your milestones? And what's next? I know, I know. I have lots of life left to lead. But somewhere in the back of my head I think: Marriage, check; kids, check; career, check check. I feel like one of those bugs that has fulfilled her destiny and now must just wait to die. Ok, a little dramatic, but that's where I am.

It made me start thinking how fast time has flown by and what do I remember of it, specifically my kids that seem to practically grow in front of my very eyes. Have I savored every last moment of that time together? Have I been that hands-on mom that I wanted to be to date? I want to look back and think of all those fond memories, but sometimes my memory seems clouded. Is that because my life is such a whirlwind of things to do or accomplish that I haven't enjoyed what was in front of me the whole time? I've always thought myself to be a pretty good multi-tasker. Hell, I live for it. So, for more of my own purposes of my own mental sanity, I thought I'd write out a little list of those things I recall off the top of my head, starting with Baeleigh. That way when I practically hyperventilate over the lost time, I can remember those little things about her. It's amazing what I recall when I just give a little time to let the memories bubble up.

-Falling alseep on mommy's chest pratically every night as a baby
-Practically watching "30 Minute Meals" 24-7 on maternity leave, and now you'll watch it voluntarily like she's a lost relative
-Wrinkling up your nose at me, shoulders shrugged
-Trying to wriggle your nose like mommy
-Watching you twirl around (eyes spotting the wrong direction) in the living room til you fell over dizzy or chasing Max
-Your giggly laugh when I tickle your knees
-Chasing or "bumping" Max in your walker
-Catching you at the end of your stairs somersault
-Super-Baeleigh
-Extremely high fevers (103+) with cold rags and popsicles to cool you down
-Throwing you on the bed, bouncing on the bed
-Watching you catch your first fish on your SpongeBob fishing rod
-"Driving" Pop-Pop's boat
-Excercising with me, specifically downward dog and leg kicks
-Eskimo kisses
-Your fascination with lady bugs (though not large balloon versions)
-Pumpkin patches and the zoo (chasing that poor horse and goat around at 17 months to brush it)
-Visits to Smoothie King, the Beach, the park, the No. Beach Farmer's market (to play on the ship)
-Watching you scared out of your wits excited on the county fair and amusement rides
-Cooking muffins for breakast, cookies for Santa and deviled eggs for family get-togethers
-Cuddling on the couch to watch TV/movies
-Picking up rocks in the driveway and finding them in your pockets when we washed the clothes
-Blowing bubbles and eating popsicles on the front porch
-Stooping down to watch the ants go in and out of the cracks on the sidewalk
-Learning to ride your bike on training wheels in the cul-de-sac but not understanding that backwards peddling was the brake
-Helping me sweep and dust, you love the dust pan
-Catching you at the end of the water slides over and over again
-Big Thunder Railroad (wasn't sure you were scared or excited until you said "let's go again")
-Reading you bedtime stories
-Ten gazillion barrettes and ponytails in my hair
-Pink Barbie glasses
-Being a big girl for your first double flu shot (previously it's always taken an army of nurses to hold your screaming self down)
-Being a Room Mom for your first dance recital
-Your pre-school graduation and bawling over the slideshow and when they called your name
-Hugging you before you jumped on the school bus for the very first time to kindergarten
-Watching you read Dr. Suess to your brother
-Helping you with your homework, especially your poems

Feel free to add on.

Miss Literal

Today is Baeleigh's first day back to school from Spring break. As usual, she skipped into the bathroom, having completed none of her morning routine. She was practically bubbling over with energy this morning, not unlike any morning. I asked her, "So, are we going to start off on the right foot today and get a sticker?" This year we've had little trouble with her focusing on classwork, fidgeting in class, not zipping her lip when she's supposed to be quiet, etc. Normal kindergartner behavior, I think. The kids are on a sticker system, where every day they get a sticker placed on their calendar if they were good. Needless to say, we've had a few dry months here and there. Occasionally a streak of stickers (and these tend to coincide with parental and grand-parental bribery), but more comments written in the boxes (i.e., not good). What is Baeleigh's reply to my question about starting out on the right foot? "Mommy, which one is my right foot again?"

I'm guessing today will bring more comments in the box.

The Veggie Masquerade

Not only do I have to hide teeny, tiny veggies amongst the rice, pasta or sauce for Gavin but the veggie masquerade continues with Baeleigh as well. She can spot a broccoli floret from 20 paces.

Their daycare provider cooks them homemade Korean food comprised almost entirely of veggies and oftentimes - gasp! - fish. If a sliver of green bean or cube of carrot even thinks about gracing their plate, it's rejected. A protruded lower lip and a quick whip of the head to the side accompanied by a sharp, "NO!". Or, dejected face, a shriveling of the body into the seat as if I melted her like the wicked witch synchronized perfectly with the hands bringing the hair into the face. Ugh.

I don't get it. Maybe I just need to make it easier on myself and just start pureeing it into the food. I'm not sure which requires more effort - thinking of ways to hide it or watching Baeleigh sit at the table for an hour and a half pout about her dinner. It doesn't sound very appetizing for me to eat that way - cauliflower in my mac-n-cheese, butternut squash pureed into my muffins, spinach in my brownies. Can you tell I've looked over Deceptively Delicious? If only I could find a happy medium.

Mommy-In-Training

Baeleigh begged and pleaded with Santa and any adult that would listen that she wanted a doll-baby that would eat and wet. The Kate Gosselin in me cringed at the picture this painted in my head. Baby food smeared all over everything and wet, or worse "dirty", diapers strewn all over the house. Like taking on the responsibilities of another baby without actually going through the pregnancy. Tommy is probably wondering if this counts as the third that we continue to debate over.

Regardless of my exhaustion over the sheer thought of the doll, we relented. Baeleigh opened up her Baby Alive on Christmas Day and was over the moon. Luckily, this happens to be only a "wetting" Baby Alive. No food required, except the "bottle" you feed her with to make her wet. Enter big sigh of relief here. Curious as to how this doll worked myself, I asked Baeleigh to feed her. She proceeded to hook up the straw to the Baby's mouth (apparently more of a sippie cup than a bottle set-up), then began the horrifying part - at least from a mother's perspective. Baeleigh then literally squeezed that Baby's belly so that the Baby could "suck" the water from the bottle. I can't help but wonder, though, what warped mind came up with exactly how this doll works. I know that she understands it's a toy, but it's just shocking to watch her learn how to be a mommy by practically force-feeding her baby to eat and pumping its stomach like she was performing CPR.

But there is more, later my dad and I were curious as to just how it "peeped" into the diaper. I investigated, unstrapping the diaper. How does it not just come running straight out? Well, apparently the whole exit hole is much smaller, the size of a pin. So, it trickles out. When I asked Baeleigh why I had two wet diapers sitting on my counter instead of the trash, she tells me "Mommy, that's what you do, you just let'em sit there and dry out?" Really? Can I do that with Gavin's diapers? Think of the money I'd save. Granted, the child's saving me from burning through her baby doll diapers, but again what in the world is this doll (or should I say her G - lol!) teaching her?!

Oh, and I don't know about you, but that Baby Alive is creepy looking. This photo above doesn't do its eyes justice. They are huge and darkly lined, bright blue. It certainly doesn't help as I'm reading the last of the Twilight series. You know, with the creepy baby dreams that Bella has?