Tickle Tickle!

We had already been playing the "Tickle Game" (also known as, "Nom, nom, nom: I'm gonna eat your foot-sies!") for awhile when I decided to turn on the camera, so most of his belly laughs were already spent, but you do get to hear a couple of them in this video.

The "Nom, nom, nom" game is a true labor of love because this boy has stinky feet. They smell like a junior high boys' locker room after a rousing, 7th period P.E. class game of dodge ball.

(Please disregard my veiny, fleshy thighs and focus on the chomp-able baby boy)

Tuesday Morning Open Letter

Dear Creepy Dad at Anna's School,

Stop saying, "Hey, Lady" every time we encounter one another (which is usually 2x a day, several days a week). Either take the time to learn my name, or just a simple, "Hello" will suffice. You make me physically shiver in disgust each time that you do that.

Best regards,
"Lady"

Things to look forward to

As you could probably tell from my pity party post last week, things have been a little hectic around here. There's nothing exciting or dramatic going on at all, in fact, I've found that my days are all the same:

• Care for baby
  
• Care for toddler
• Laundry
  
• Care for baby
• Clean litterboxes
  
• Care for toddler
  
• Care for baby
• Laundry
  
• Care for toddler
  
• Figure out something for dinner
• Feed cats
  
• Laundry
  
• Care for baby (once Kevin gets home and takes over Anna's care)
  
• Care for baby
  
• Care for baby
• Shower
  
• Bedtime
• Wake up and do it all over again.

In the midst of this schedule, I don't get to talk to Kevin about anything of interest (or importance) anymore, the songs from Yo Gabba Gabba are on continuous repeat in my head, my shoulder is perpetually encrusted with baby vomit and it's really beginning to wear on me. I'm one of those people who desperately needs something to always look forward to--a light at the end of the tunnel, per se. Lately, there's been no light at the end of the tunnel--it just feels like my little train is going around and around and around in circles.

Also, we have piles of gift certificates and gift cards for restaurants, (un-kid-friendly ones) stores, etc. that we just can't manage to use. I keep checking the expiration dates on them to make sure that we don't let them expire. I was finding myself envious of my Facebook friends' status messages that went something like this, "Can't wait for date night with the hubster--yum, sushi!" and "Can't wait to see such-and-such movie tonight on my date with my hubby!". Sushi? A movie? How's that even possible? It made me want to cry. Then, like a lightening bolt (or, probably more accurately, a sharp blow to the head) it hit me: We could actually hire a babysitter to watch the kids so that we could have a night out.

We're very fortunate in that we've never really had to pay for babysitting. True, our beloved housekeeper has kept both kids as babies for me, for a few hours every other week just so that I could run to the grocery store quickly or fit in a dentist appointment, but this didn't feel decadent, necessarily--more like a helpful hand in my chore-doing. But, by and large, family and close friends have always been the ones to offer up their baby sitting services. After having Jack though, everyone has skirted away, scared of the prospect of caring for both of our kids at the same time (believe me, it is scary). So, I remembered a mom in the mom's group posting a recommendation for her aunt, who does babysitting. I emailed her, she came over to meet everyone and BAM!--we suddenly have a babysitter on retainer AND plans for a date night on Saturday night! Kevin and I haven't had a meal alone, at a non-kid-friendly restaurant in months and months and months--like I think I was a month or two pregnant with Jack, the last time we had a "date night" (if you do the math, that was 1 year ago). The best thing is that, now that we have a regular sitter, we don't have to automatically decline invites to adult parties anymore. We might (just might!) actually be able to get out a little, have adult conversations (I'm going to need some practice with that) and relax a little.

Another thing that I'm excited about:

In case you don't know, that little beauty right there is the Dyson D17 Animal vacuum. We finally bit the bullet and ordered one. After going through, I-don't-know-how-many cheapo vacuums, we decided to invest a little money into something nicer, not to mention specifically designed to suck up pet hair (of which we have copious amounts). We're also getting new carpet in the bedrooms, so I like the idea of starting fresh with new carpet and a new super-awesome vacuum.

So, as you can tell, I've changed my tune a little since last week. Things are looking up around here, yes indeedy do.

Wordless Friday

Pity Party: Please attend if (and only if) you're a glutton for punishment

We had a nice little mini-vacation in Galveston over the weekend. It was a really fun time, but in the words of a wise mom that I know, "taking a vacation with your kids means that you're doing the same shit that you do at home, just in a different place". So true. There are still naps to contend with, bedtimes, snacks, Daddies who continually snore through the 6:30 am wake up calls from infants (but who rarely snore through swift punches to the groin area at 6:30 am {Oopsie daisy! Did I do that? Well, since you're up...}).

Vacation or not, 6:30 is a fine time to start the day

We went through 2 whole cans of sunblock to protect our family's lily-white skin

Then, this week, there's the laundry, unpacking, sweeping up the 50 cubic tons of sand that we brought home and cleaning up the various and sundry cat messes that our pet sitter must not have noticed (man, do I appreciate what an awesome pet sitter I used to be).

As a result, I'm feeling just as tired and drained as I felt before this mini-vacation and desperately need a vacation from my life.

Ok, pity party's over, folks. The cops have been called about the excessive whining. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here. Move along now.

Helpful Mom Tip

For traveling by car:



Take a laundry basket with you. When packing to leave, use the basket for holding the odds and ends that don't have a place in a suitcase or cooler. While you're away from home, use the laundry basket for your dirty clothes. Transport the dirty clothes home in the basket and dump the basket in your laundry room when you get home. No need to sort the clothes in the suitcase because it's likely all clean stuff that you didn't use.

This is my favorite way to keep me sane and organized when traveling with the kiddos. It also makes coming home less stressful because I feel like I have less unpacking to do.

Blast from the past

I just got an email from Piperlime, announcing a new sale. I had to see if there was anything there that I couldn't live without. There wasn't much that appealed to me because the core of my footwear these days are my beloved Reef flip flops and most of what Piperlime has to offer is too fancy for my lifestyle at the moment (plus not as easy to rinse spit-up off of). But, I proceeded to scroll and scroll, (just in case) and then I happened upon this little gem:

These are identical to my first pair of Reeboks. I was probably in 4th grade or so when I first sported these. I vividly remember one of the boys that I had a crush on, writing something on that white part on the side of the sole. I swore I would never get rid of these shoes.

In which I lose 10 lbs in one morning!

Ah....the weight loss update that you've all been waiting for. Things are going well. The Shred is but a distant memory still. I know that I need to be exercising but, honestly (cue sad, tragic storyline music) I just don't have time.

Yes, I know.
It's twenty minutes.

But still. You see, I spend all of my waking hours with at least one child usually touching my body somehow, somewhere. Some lucky days (like today, which is why I'm afforded the luxury of writing something on this blog instead of just posting pictures) the baby takes a decent nap. Most days lately though, it's a cycle of feed--rock to sleep--put in crib--wake after 10 min--feed--rock to sleep--put in crib--wake after 10 min...do you see the pattern? It's frustrating. But, I don't complain too loudly because he sleeps well at night. I can handle anything during the day, as long as I'm logging more than 6 hours of sleep a night.

So, back to me.

As you might be able to imagine, as soon as I peel the infant off of my person, the very last thing that I want to do is listen to Jillian Michaels talk about how "these abs don't come for free, people" and cause my body undue pain. So, I tend to spend those precious few alone minutes doing other fun things, like laundry, dishes and the like. It's a charmed life that I lead.

I'm still eating healthy and really do feel like a million bucks. I had been pretty frustrated though, because I wasn't pleased with the number that kept popping up on my scale. Yes, I know, I know...you shouldn't even weigh yourself...but we have a scale, and I'm a curious person. The number that kept appearing on our scale was (while not bad and totally within a normal weight for someone of my height) a number that I sort of see as a threshold. I way surpassed this number when I was pregnant and that was a little disheartening, but I had a really rad excuse. Following the healthful diet that I've been doing though, I totally expected the scale to reflect a number much below that one number that haunts me. Lately, I'd been hovering one pound below it (according to our scale) and it was eating me alive.

Today, I was in our bathroom and happened to look at the scale sitting there on the floor. Now, most times that I weigh myself, it's in the bleary-eyed, bright-light of morning, so my eyes--they're not so good--and I never think to look at the scale before I get on it. So, today, I looked at it and noticed that the arm-thingy wasn't resting at 0, like it should. It was resting at 10! Hmmm. I noticed a little dial on the front of the scale, which is used to calibrate it. I spun the dial so that the arm was on 0 and, guess what. I weigh 10 whole pounds less than I thought I did! Holy Moses! Do you know what this means? Do ya? Do ya? It means that now I'm only about 4 lbs over my pre-pregnancy weight (as opposed to 14 lbs, as previously thought). Ha! Success. You can suck it, Jillian Michaels.

In celebration of my new-found, weight-loss, I'd like to share a few things with you that I've discovered and think are awesome:

Laughing Cow Cheese: Not a new discovery for me, but I've re-discovered it. Fabulous spread on Triscuits or, my favorite thing to do with it: Spread on a chicken breast (pounded out very flat and thin) and roll up like a jellyroll. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 min or so (depending on the size of the breasts {The chicken breasts, smart ass, not your breasts--but if you have D cups or over, exercise caution when getting the chicken out of the oven}). The best thing is that Laughing Cow only has 35 calories for one whole wedge.

Tropicana 50 orange juice. I like to put a splash of it in a glass and then fill the rest of the glass with sparkling water. It's a good before-bedtime snack for me, if I still feel a little hungry at bedtime. We also invented what we've coined the "Redneck Margarita" or "Margarita Spritzer" which is the same as above but with the addition of tequila. It's surprisingly refreshing and good for a hot Summer day.

Tilapia: I thought that I didn't care for Tilapia--I thought of it as a "trash fish". Around Lent, HEB had the bags of frozen Tilapia fillets on super-sale, so I grabbed a bag, thinking that maybe one day I could use it for something. The other night, armed with nothing else for dinner, I baked a couple of Tilapia fillets with just some lemon juice, salt and pepper. It was right tasty. Very simple; surprisingly hearty and reasonably good for us.

I have more recipes to share soon...

Lizard!

Look who's discovered his tongue

He loves to poke it out like a little reptile

He's so proud of himself

And no, Jack doesn't live in this highchair--I know all of his pictures lately are taken in it--he just seems to like being in it, hence the cute smiles.

Wordless (Mostly) Friday

We've been experimenting with some new hairstyles around here lately.

The Classic Pony
(Before school)

After school--her teacher's creation.

And yes, that's her potty chair in the background--on our porch. We're country.

Single parenthood is not for the weak

...So you think long and hard about that, Kate Gosselin, while you prance on the beach with your "bodyguard" (uh, huh) in your bikini, with your tummy-tucked abdomen and fake tan (not to mention rooster hair).

I'm feeling psychologically stable enough this morning to write about the fact that I've been a single mother this whole week. You should know that I do a decent job of taking care of the kids during the day, but come about 5 pm, I hit the wall. On a normal day, armed with the knowledge that Kevin will be home in the next 2 hours, I can usually rally (and by rally, I mean turn on Dora the Explorer and pour a glass of wine) and hold it together. When I know that no one is coming to relieve me and that I have Round 3 of childcare (The Bath and Bedtime portion of the show) ahead of me, well, it can be a little depressing. Unfortunately for my children, Mommy is the militant one when it comes to baths and bedtime--I like to get it done with as little monkey business as possible, because frankly, Mommy is tired and has had quite enough of you by 7 pm* at night (*oh, and did I mention that I make them go to bed early too? Meany, indeed).

We've done really well this week though. Everything was going smoothly...until last night. I was especially tired last night and was very, very ready to go to bed myself. Anna and I ate dinner early and headed off to take her bath about 6:15pm. After bathtime, we went downhill fast. At 7 pm, Anna had a total mental break with reality and properly lost her shit. I decided that 7 pm was a fine time for bed, so I tersely read her a story and tucked her in, then, I set to work on getting Jack to sleep. He wasn't quite ready yet, but he relaxed in his bouncie seat while I got to sit down and veg a bit. Finally, at 9:30, he succumbed to sleep. After putting him to bed, I headed off to take a much-needed shower and hit the sack. While in the shower, I was about half-way through washing my hair when I opened my eyes to see Anna holding open the shower curtain, silently staring at me. It scared the ever-livin' daylights out of me.

Growing up, the movie Pet Semetary was one of the only horror movies that I'd ever seen (still not a fan of horror movies). It is a strange movie, but the little kid, Gage, is one of the freakiest kids in movie history. Seeing Anna, staring at me in the shower last night, brought back images of Gage:




So, apparently what happened is that Anna went to sleep at 7pm, took a nice 3 hour "nap" and then was ready to get up and play. I've been working on teaching her how to open her bedroom door, so that she doesn't have to bang on it when she's ready to get up. That came back to bite me in the derriere last night, when she let herself out of her room without my knowledge, during my relaxing shower.

I fixed her some more hot milk (she threw her milk during her break with reality earlier in the evening) and let her hang out in our bed with me for awhile. I came *this* close to letting her sleep with me, but didn't want to create a monster--especially since she does so well in her own bed, in her own room. After a few minutes of snuggling, I suggested that we go back to her room, read another book and go back to sleep. She enthusiastically agreed so we went back to her room, read Go Dog Go, tucked her in and that was that. I didn't see her again until this morning, when I had to go and wake her up for school at 8 am.

So, aside from that little glitch (and my almost heart attack in the shower last night) we survived almost a week with only one parent. I certainly don't recommend it and am not looking forward to my next stint as a single mother, but at least I know that I can do it. It might not have been the funnest, most craft-intensive, flash-card-practicing and zoo-visiting week ever, but the house is clean, the laundry is done, the litterboxes are clean(ish) and the children are alive. I call that a success!

This boy....

With those eyes...

And this grin...

My little fish

On a lazy Sunday

...he's stolen my heart.