Craftiness...and Peonies

Peonies 

Knitting

I had intended with high hopes to have this finished by Miss I's birthday last week, but as crazy as things have been preparing for our upcoming move to Florida, and the fact that knitting in a tiny hotel room is next to impossible with two small children, especially since we basically had to keep it dark if we were trying to get them to sleep, and augh, I get a migraine just thinking about it.  Needless to say, "adjoined room" is going to be HIGH on our priority list when we travel with the kids again.  For reals.  And so, due to this, I didn't even get a stitch on this long sweater.  

It's the Bobby Kimono Sweater from Vintage Baby Knits.  It's a LONG long sweater with lots of room to ensure she can wear it for a while yet.  I wish I was a rapid knitter, but I'm just not.  I love it, but I am slow, and I get distracted and I'm pretty bad at bringing it with me wherever I go like some clever knitters out there.  Anyway, I am hoping that it will be done SOON soon.  

As for other crafty endeavors, well, let's just say, I'm a work in progress.  I have lots of lofty ideas and high hopes for myself.  I dream about making my kids pajamas, and cute simple skirts and sundresses for me, and easy care playwear for the tots.  Maybe a Christmas tree skirt someday, and placemats, and you get my point.  Simple stuff.  But I suck at sewing and even though I have my mom's hand me down Singer, I'm pretty hopeless.  Ah well, hopefully with the move and the space promised me by the hubs designated for crafting, I will teach myself how to sew.  After all, I taught myself how to knit.  BUT, I'm trying to be realistic, changes to patterns do not happen overnight, so I'm hoping that our move will jump start some sort of healthy change in how I spend my "free time"  (read: time I spend watching tv *ahem*) .  

I will say, there is nothing quite so satisfying as finishing a project that you worked hard on, and seeing someone you love using it.  Hopefully my baby will have lots of use for her sweet warm weather kimono sweater.  

Do you craft?  Make stuff?  Watch too much television?  Spill.  

(and leave comments, seriously folks, I can see you visiting... comments keep me inspired to keep writing, 'kay?!)  xx

Potty...learning...

I had a lot of sweet titles for this blog post today.  "Diaper Doodie"  "When Sh*t Doesn't Happen" and my favorite, "Just sit on that darn seat and take a crap, kid, seriously, we all do it, and so can you!".  But, I decided to keep it classy, because, you know, I'm all about that.

Anyway, we're deep in the trenches of getting our 2.75 year old son comfortable with using the toilet.  Or potty, or the potty shaped like a frog with the oddly upturned eyes that looks like it's saying, "Oh, boy, don't worry, I won't tell anyone what you're doing...", or, "Is that all I am to you?  A place to urinate?"  I'm really working it now because we're planning on starting R in preschool in the fall.  And, those Montessori folks don't want to change diapers, I guess... so, alas, here we are.  Showing him how to help himself.  I have to say, completely naked, R's good to go.  He calmly uses the potty, then BRINGS me the removable blue bowl to show me and gets really thrilled.  The first time he pooped in the potty, it was an unbidden by me event.  Miss I was napping, I was drying my hair or applying make up in a desperate attempt to look like I'm still in my twenties, or something, and up he comes carrying the potty, little turd sloshing about.

R: "Look Mommy!  I DID it!  I DID it!"

(Trying not to praise too much or make a HUGE deal out of it) Me: My!  Uh, aren't you proud of yourself?!  Now flush it! (in my head I'm imagining the trip up the stairs this little poo carried by a two year old made and how much of it remained on the steps...)

He happily flushes it away, quite proud of his achievement and the flushing is apparently quite exciting.

We've tried a variety of undergarments and my current favorites are these sort of thick pants.  They're easy to pull up and down, much easier than a pull up.  And they are cheap, so I got a bunch.  Basically, my approach is, put one of these on, let him run around without other pants on while at home.  

Today was a good day.  But he was pretty dehydrated considering he'd been throwing up all last night.  Yeah, that was fun, and a nice mommy might have deferred the potty learning for a couple days, but not me! We've got until August 23 to get this child doing his business the way most people do.  I'm pretty sure staying in diapers is doing no one any favors, least of all him, so, there you have it.  I'm gently, but insistently, encouraging him to take control of his own body.  I know he can do it and I just need to give him credit.  

So, anyone have any genius success stories, or "How to get your child using the toilet like the rest of the civilized world in three days or less?".  Anyone?!  

Skinny Baby

I have a skinny baby.  Look at that tiny child.  This is Miss I at 11 months old.  Working on her Paleontology skills.  She just went in for her 12 month "well baby visit" and everything looked great except.. dun dun dun!  Her weight.  My child is just too skinny.  Too skinny for who?  Too skinny for the freaked out nurses who asked me a bunch of questions regarding how much I feed her after they compared her weight on the weight chart of the FORMULA FED BABIES from the 70s!  Seriously?  Isn't it OBVIOUS that she's healthy?  She's been WALKING since she was just ten months old!  She was crawling at six months!  Doesn't that burn some calories, and oh, suggest that she's healthy?!  I mean, she's climbing on a dinosaur skeleton here.  CLIMBING.  Child being starved she is not.
And, of course, logical me knows that this is total BS and I need to just let it go and know in my heart that my baby is very healthy and we're doing all the right things for her as best we can.  Right?

No.

It slips into my brain.  That little voice of doubt.  Of course I'm aware she's thin.  People comment on it all. the. time.  I guess in today's America of acceptable obesity standards a skinny baby is something to worry about.  Let me be clear, I think super chunky babies are freaking adorable.  But I also think MY baby is pretty much the most adorable baby who ever sprung forth from a womb.  It's hard for me not to compare her with other babies her age and wonder why she isn't over 20 lbs.  It's a bit of a struggle not to pull out her brother's baby book and say, "Gulp, R was already 22lbs at one..." and not freak out a little wondering if I'm forgetting to feed her enough, or if my milk (oh yes, we're STILL nursing and I'm fine with that) is like diet root beer, or if she has some sort of growth problem, a faulty thyroid, freaky metabolism, whatever.  Why can't we just be happy!?  She's a little peanut of perfection and I'm damn proud of her!!  But why of why are we comparing babies these days on these archaic piece of shit FORMULA standards?!  And why does it bug me and make me worry?

Once again, I'm seeing these "standards" as being nothing but a means to put people into little groups and if you don't fit into the right peg, you are faulty.  We need to reevaluate how we look at things.  It's not like babies can be judged like Yorkies at an AKC Show.  And even Yorkies shouldn't be judged!

Anyway, fortunately our pediatrician has common sense and, well, is not just looking at dots on graphs.  She wasn't worried, but thanks a lot nurses for ruining my day.

I'm pretty sure I can't believe you are already one years old

And here you are already walking fearlessly towards an ocean you only heard from from within my tummy.  I'm pretty sure we never went to the beach in the fourteen days after you were born before we moved up North.  Perhaps if I had had you normally, I'd have been up for it.  But alas, I'm sure I'll be guilting you for that for the rest of my life and you'll be like, "oh please mom, get over it already!".
So, well, honey, for your birthday, you didn't get a cake. We sang "Happy Birthday" to you in the motel room right before your bath and bedtime.  You had a few sips of your brother's milkshake.  And... we bought you a house.  That's right my love, we closed on our house today.  Don't say we never buy you anything, okay?  What little girl gets a house for her first birthday?  You do.  You're lucky and much much loved.
We've a few more days down here before we head back to Wisconsin for our grand farewell and viva la spring! that we plan on celebrating to the hilt.

Oh, and tomorrow?  Oh yeah, tomorrow.  We're going to the House of Mouse.  Cinderella's Castle, Tea Cup rides, It's a Small World and all the Princess crap you shake a stick at.  And likely we will overindulge you and your brother.  And we will take photos.  DISNEY - HERE WE COME!

So, in all, I'd say it was a fair first birthday, as far as they go.  :) Love you forever!

Slightly crazy. In survival mode. Will prevail.

   There I am nursing Miss I, in what is, God-willing, our new bedroom come Wednesday. (None of the furniture is ours)

We're only a little bit nuts right now with insanity of trying to keep everything together these last few weeks before our impending move.  Currently we're in Florida, finishing up home details, B's got work obligations, and the "getting to know you!" thrill of scoping out your new town.  And what a town it is.  Ah yes..., dear readers, there's much fodder for the blog a comin'.  Nothing bad, just different.  The gentle haiku of life that has been the last year, with the soft pats of like-minded parenting, delectable culinary delights abounding, and the warm, nurturing atmosphere of a sophisticated collegiate hub is giving way to a different clime that, trust me, will yield to me.  I will crack this nut.  There might not be a mom's group here now... but there will be.   Happily, everyone we have met so far has been affable and helpful.  Liking that a LOT.  Oh, and the street we are moving to, has THE most beautiful trees I've ever seen in my life.  Like, literally, the show pony's of Live Oaks.  That alone is worth it for me.  Look for a series on these trees to come later this summer!


So, aside from the stress of a house closing that, until the ink is dry, I'm still all, "let's just be hopeful, heh heh", but really I'm like, "Oh shit, I hope I didn't totally screw up this whole transaction because I bought that dress from Anthropologie!", living in a hotel room with two toddlers (one of whom is turning ONE this week!) and not having a clue where you are going at any given time (oh, don't worry, we've already been to Target, Barnes and Noble and all the Starbucks', I am bionic in my ability to sniff out those places) we're doing okay.  The impending move from our nice little life in Madison where I can easily envision my children growing up with the five+ kids THE EXACT SAME AGE AS THEY ARE all on the same block, to the place where our neighbor behind us has died (but hey, that means we might be able to buy the adjacent empty lot!) and his house creepily stands empty (but yet, his pool is still filled), is pulling on all the available cells left in my creative coffer to turn this into the grand adventure I know it can be.

All will be well.

It's a good day when...

...The insurance bill for lots o' cash money was sent to you in error and the lady on the phone says, "just disregard that hon' ".  Sweet.  Almost totally makes up for the "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!?!?!?!?!?  IT'S BEEN ALMOST TWO YEARS SINCE I SAW THAT DOCTOR?!"- freak out I had when I first opened it.

...You have a sudden burst of energy to clean and it doesn't make you want to throw yourself down on the floor and scream like your 11 month old.

...Your two year old was a sweet heart at the open gym.  Did not strike anyone, no fits and was the sweet child who was concerned when his friend got hurt and was crying.  Oh yeah... makes a mama proud.

... And seriously, I love this thing.  This Booster Seat which we've dubbed "R's (Thing 1) seat"  just like his big cousin, is so freakin' awesome.  Anything that doesn't slip all over seat and doesn't need belts and stuff AND cleans like a miracle is alright in my book!  Yes friends, there comes a time when you get excited over booster seats.  Like, really excited.  And that might be sad, but it's my reality.

Okay, time to keep knitting.  It's almost my baby's birthday and her sweater isn't knitting itself!

She's easy, folks

Insta baby fun.  ValPak coupon envelope.  You know you  never use that crap y'all.  Mexican restaurants you've never heard of.  Lawn service 20 miles away.  Tire repair, aluminum siding, etc. etc.  It's definitely worth a LOT more as a baby toy.  Trust me on this.

It's Mother's Day

Thank you.  

The SAHD

What is the SAHD (Stay at home Dad)?  This elusive creature has a habitat similar to the SAHM (Stay at Home Mom), ranging across the world, primarily in locales where women tend to take on professional and more lucrative positions in the work force, allowing for one partner to remain with the cubs back at the cave.  This is often seen in smaller cities with lower costs of living and higher per capita education levels.

As a SAHM, myself, I've had the good fortune to observe these elusive beasts in their own habitat, unknowingly going about their child-rearing and baby bonding ways while being observed by myself, posing nonchalantly under guise as average SAHM.  Living in an environment rife with the SAHD, I've learned much in my observations.  I've even befriended several of these elusive creatures.  Our children have even...*gasp... playdated (term coinage pending).

I've noticed that these SAHD are extremely similar to their female counterparts.  They often push the same strollers, wear the same baby carriers and whip out wipes and cheerios at just the right time.  The SAHD is often more relaxed than the SAHM.  Often SAHD is not hovering over his progeny with a worried face with arms outstretched to save little precious from a tumble.  For this, I give props.  The SAHD friends I have made have confessed to me that they have found it somewhat difficult to ingratiate themselves into the SAHM world.  Frequently they cannot get into any mom's clubs.  This sucks, because this SAHM appreciates the levity that many of the SAHD's I've met can bring to a congested child-centered experience.  Alas.  This researcher has noticed that some SAHM's tend to shoot the wary eye towards the SAHD, as if said SAHD has only borrowed the child(ren) he has in tow and is really a perv.  This, I have found, is generally unlikely.

Having spoken with many a SAHD, they tend to have the same gripes, concerns and daily schedules that the SAHM herself encounters.  For example, they bitch equally about laundry piling up with unprecedented speed, dirty dish management, bill paying, how much is too much television viewing, playdate mayhem and   "Oh dear when oh WHEN is it finally nap time?!".  As well, angst surrounding "am I contributing equally to the household?" and "really, how can I justify spending any money on things other than groceries and the kids".  Oh yes, the similarities are numerous.

But, oh reader, as one may imagine, there are differences between the SAHD and the SAHM.  One notable difference is lactation.  The SAHD simply cannot do it.  Their breasts are dry and as such, do not have to worry about nursing bras, nursing tops, breast pads, and accidentally flashing the UPS man when he pounds on the door with your regularly scheduled Amazon package (not that this happens to me or anything...).  One of my SAHD friends, who is a former member of a special SAHD "dad's group" in the area, divulged some secrets of what happens in a SAHD meeting.  Namely, what they talk about!

I was somewhat shocked to discover that many SAHD's actually fantasize about "hooking up" with a SAHM.  Trust me, this has never been discussed by ANY SAHM's as a particular fantasy of their own, so either the mom's are keeping this juicy bit of fantasy to themselves, or they do not have it.  For me, my fantasies tend to revolve around household cleaning services and dishwashers (neither of which I have).  Perhaps the SAHM is somewhat subconsciously alert to this SAHD fantasy, hence the wariness they often show towards their male brethren.  Likely, the SAHD allows himself this tiny bit of fantasy because he realizes that never in a million years would this actually happen.  For when would it?!  While their toddlers are tussling over the train table?  Fighting over fish shaped cheese crackers?  I can guarantee that it wouldn't happen during any nap times.  Why?  Because the second MY children are asleep, my hands slap on my blue kitchen gloves and I'm washing dishes, then hurdling downstairs to switch out laundry, and then, the magic of TWO sleeping children has occurred, I might spend 15 minutes on Facebook.  Yes, dear reader, you know this is a familiar pattern.  I am pretty sure that this is the exact same pattern of the SAHD.

So, dear friends, I say, the SAHD is not to be feared.  He is to be warmly invited into your child's play circles.  Their little boys and girls need to socialize as well, and trust me, they do too.  SAHD's are often funny and friendly.  They are working just as hard to keep the family together as the SAHM while their wives are out working hard at out of the home jobs.  These dads are often a font of knowledge, like any mom can be.  I say, tap this well.  But not in a sexy way, but in a, "Hey, how did you get your kid to eat that broccoli-way?".  There is much to be learned from one another.

Where does your baby sleep?

I cannot believe I am actually going to be using a FOX news story (in a positive and balanced way!) to bring this topic up. But here goes.




If you watched this clip, which is rather good, regarding infant deaths in Milwaukee that have been attributed to bed sharing, you'll see that they give one commonality between ALL of the infant deaths. Alcohol? Couch sleeping? When I watched it, I expected them to say it was that all of the parents whose child had perished while co-sleeping tested positive for alcohol. But I was wrong. It was formula feeding. Not because formula feeding makes babies die, but because, in the circumstance of formula feeding and the night time bed, after said bottle is finished up, the baby is not placed in the nook under mom's arm with mom on her side, but usually higher up in the bed, with more opportunity to roll around and get stuck in pillows. No shit. The doctor in the study also discussed how there is a particular link with breastfeeding mothers and their infants, with the mothers sleeping lighter, waking more frequently, and perhaps more in tune to the baby. I will admit, as a breastfeeding mother who co-sleeps many many nights with her infant (still, yes! She's almost one! And guess what, I'm NOT telling the nurse at her one year check up because she'll just tell me the same thing she told me at her nine month check up and that was that my baby was waking because she was used to it and didn't need to be near me at night. I nodded like a good little mommy and inside my head said, "Okay, gotcha, this is kiddo number two, I'm not a novice") I can attest to the weird bond that might occur at night between momma and baby. For example, I wake up seconds before I hear my baby make noise on the monitor. Likely waking up the same time she or he does. Once, I KNOW that R and I had a shared dream because in MY dream I was yelling a name out and it woke me, to hear R YELL that SAME NAME out in his sleep. Freaky. He was about 20 months old at that time and had long been sleeping by himself in his own bed. The link had been established!

Personally, I have found sleeping next to my babies to make for easier nights for me. No Ferberizing, no "training" my baby to do what I think they should be doing. The first four months or so, I keep the little Co-Sleeper Bassinet next to my bed and when baby first wakes, I gather them up next to me and they nurse and we both fall asleep. Around five months, I start putting baby in his or her own bed to start the night and when they wake, I bring them to bed with me. Eventually they start sleeping longer and long until eventually they will sleep the whole night through. Sure, there are times when it's four am and I am not thrilled to hear that little peep over the monitor, but I also tell myself that these are such fleeting times that will be gone forever with that baby and I need to try to find the joy in that. And I do.

I've loved co sleeping and I do watch to make sure our bed is safe for the baby, free of blankets and watch the pillow. I love waking up in the morning to a sweet smiling baby and I am pretty sure that they feel safe and happy. Of course, co sleeping is not for everyone. Some babies go right to their cribs the day they come home. Other parents go way further than I do and have a whole mattress on the floor system that involves the whole family (hence the term family bed) where all the family sleeps in one place every night, all night. Honestly, this isn't for me and my family at this time, but I truly respect that families for whom this works. Rock on with however you want to do it.

So, I suppose the point of this rambling brook of a post is to say that I am happy that there is an actual mega media news source that reaches a lot of people on a daily basis (far too many if you want my opinion... ahem, but in this case, I'm down with that... I kid! Sort of) is fairly treating the issue of sharing sleep with your babies. And doesn't actually villainize parents for doing what feels natural to them, because some idiots want to turn co sleeping into a law breaking offense! Nice! And, if you want to get all historical and anthropological about it, studies show co-sleeping is in fact safer than crib sleeping. Almost all cultures do it. The ones that don't are wealthy Western countries who have been given the line that crib sleeping is safer. A notion that came about at the turn of the last century when the economy boomed, and people started building bigger homes and creating "nurseries" and hence needed cribs... so, can you see where this is going? Yes, crib manufacturers came out with the idea that cribs were safer. To sell more cribs. Yes. Look it up. This is not to say cribs have no place. I have two of 'em for crying out loud, and more pack n' plays than you can shake a stick at.

Parents are constantly being TOLD what to do by outside influences. Parenting has evolved from being very instinctual to manual driven. Even the crunchiest of the crunchy parents have a plethora of books guiding the right and wrong way to parent. It gets overwhelming. I know I am overwhelmed! I like guidance and appreciate advice that jives with my inner mom voice, whom I trust the most. When something prickles what feels right to me, I tend to ignore it. That works for us.

What works for you? I'd love to hear!

KIKI SAYS:
What a great clip cat! I LOVE bed sharing. I had Thing 1 in bed with me until he was 10 months old (and honestly he would still be there with me if we let him). I then had Thing 2 in bed with me until she was 3 months old and really wanted to sleep by herself (she still is this way... she doesn't like cuddling while sleeping... weird I know!). Thing 3 was in bed with me all the time until 4 months old or so and then came in after her first waking at night. I found that we did really well until the babies wanted to start rolling. Then they liked their space. I had a really hard time with Thing 4 because after pinching my ulnar nerve at 2 weeks, I physically couldn't get into the nursing while sleeping position. This was devastating to me. It has all worked out well, but I can honestly tell you I miss it! Nursing while sleeping in the bed, I've found, gives both of us the most restful night of sleep. I am totally in tune with the babies and literally don't move other than to change boobs through the night. The babies are tucked safely under my arm and I LOVE it! I've found other ways to bond with Thing 4 (like holding her for a lot of her naps... slings etc), but I still miss the sleeping. After 2 months, my arm still isn't healed enough to do it... so sad.That said, I didn't drink any alcohol while the babies were in my bed, and the one time I had to use cough medicine with Hudson, I put him in a bassinet. I try to only have one infant in bed at the time (meaning I didn't let my older kids in the bed with me while there was an infant in there). It's about trusting your instincts as a MOM... so much of that is nature driven.
I can honestly say that I really don't like parenting books. I think all it does is make you second guess your instincts. Every child is different... I've had four now and they have all had different soothing methods, different ways they like to sleep, different forms of discipline that work, different routines. I think you just need to get to know your child and follow your instincts! Most parenting books just tell you what worked for some kids (probably the author's kids!) and honestly every time I read one I just felt like a bad mom because my kids were different. I don't feel that way anymore, I just steer clear of the books. I'm all for asking my mom friends for advise and for suggestions on this or that in terms of parenting, but for the most part, I'm going with my gut. A couple of exceptions... I LOVED the Happiest Baby on the Block and the Happiest Toddler on the Block... I got some very useful parenting tools from these books (the biggest being SWADDLING and validating / respecting a toddler's emotions).

This weekend

Due to lots of reasons, namely life, we've been slacking on the blog posts.  Will try to remedy... now.  I've been bouncing lots of what could be really fun and or interesting post ideas around my head for days now, but it's been hard to get started and get them out there.  As well, the world events of the last few weeks, including the massive tragedy of the Gulf Coast Oil Spill , have been weighing heavily on my mind.  It's been difficult to think past thoughts such as, "What kind of world are our children going to grow up in?", "What can I do, really? I mean, other than drive less and continue using my reusable bags at the grocery store?".  I know there are lots of answers to that question, and I'd LOVE to hear some of yours!

While every generation has dealt with difficulties, uncertainties and major calamities, it's still hard to think past the barrage of earthquakes, volcano eruptions, world economic conditions, idiots passing insane laws in one of the drier states, wars and recent environmental disasters.  It just is.  So, for now, I'll leave you with this image.  This is my 11 month old, having her first tantrum.  I'm thinking she's saying, "What the F*** people!  What kind of place are you leaving for me?!"