Baby, you’re three

Saturday was your big day—you finally turned “free”. I know you think you’re really super big but for me, Baby it’ll always be.

What can I say? You’re the last one for me and every family needs their own forever Baby and that’s you with all of the good and all of the bad that can bring.

You’re pretty impressive though, I have to admit. I actually kept telling people you were turning four because of how much and how beautifully you speak. That same day you used the word “underneath” in a sentence and used it properly. My jaw dropped a moment.

But then you do something like poop on the floor and I remember—totally not four. By the way, I’m tired of scrubbing poop out of Yo Gabba Gabba underwear so if you wouldn’t mind getting that whole thing under control, I’d appreciate it.

That’s the biggest quirk. Oh and the talking back. Oh my goodness that just sprang out with a vengeance didn’t it? It’s like you turned three and the aggressive gene turned on.

And yet, you’re this big giant sweetheart who demands loads of hugs and kisses repeated endlessly. You greet everyone with a giant leg-wrapping, face-in-the-knees hug.

You cry when someone leaves or if someone left before you got to say goodbye.

Lately you’ve been sneaking into your brother’s bed to sleep.

The other morning when I made breakfast, I was eating my bacon and eggs and you wanted some bacon. So I gave you my slice and you devoured it. You came back for more and went to grab the remaining slice on my plate but suddenly you put it back.

“You don’t want anymore bacon?” I asked.

“No Mommy, that’s your slice. I already ate one,” you replied. My friend and I stared at you. I tried to tell you it was totally ok but the only thing you allowed was sharing the last slice of bacon with me—half and half.

That sort of thing, it doesn’t sound like a huge deal until I realize you’ve just turned three and aren’t you the center of the universe still? How did you do that?

You’re seriously independent and like doing everything on your own and freak out when you can’t. Getting stuck in your t-shirt can cause a serious scream.

You eat pretty well and are still pretty adventurous with what you’ll try but adamant about what you won’t.

These are the last two months at the daycare you’ve been in since you were a tiny infant. They’re going to miss you. I’m going to miss them. I have no idea what you’ll do but I know you’re really excited to join your siblings at the big school.

Except for the whole potty problem. But we already talked about that. It’s not like it drives me crazy to the point of obsession or anything.

No, actually it does because you totally know when you have to go and you totally know how to go but you just don’t want to go on the potty and so your waste ends up on the floor.

But whatever, I’m over it.

Kind of.

You’re big time into sports. MutantPirate got you a basketball hoop for your birthday and you made him open that thing right then and there and you’ve been playing with it non-stop ever since. It’s a pretty great hoop. You’ve got a pretty wicked shot.

You love football too. And baseball. You like to wear basketball shorts and went gaga over the Jordans my friend got you. I don’t even think you know what those are but the sneaker force is strong with you little one.

I am afraid.

You like it when I sing to you. The two songs you request from me most often are “Take me out to the ball game” and “Once upon a dream”. You also like to sing with me and when that happens, we do all of the typical nursery tunes.

Oh my goodness you love your sister. Sometimes you try and beat her up and she freaks out but mostly you adore her. You like to spend time with her in her room. You like to play with her and have no issue playing with her dolls or kitchen or whatever. And don’t even try and pretend otherwise, I know you let her comb your hair when no one’s watching. You just love to be around her, I can totally see it. I know you guys are two years apart but seriously, you act like twins.

And then there’s your big brother you clearly idolize. I mean you think this guy is so cool and you want to be like him which is good because your big brother is seriously an awesome kid and I’ve got no problem with you emulating him. He loves you and cares for you.

I’ve been thinking about your great-grandfather these past few days because he was way head over heels in love with you. I don’t know what it was but there was some sort of spark between you two and you hardly knew him. But that short time you did know him you made him immensely happy. I will always appreciate that. He’s totally your guardian angel. Keep him busy but not too much, ok?

I love you Baby. Here’s to another huge year in your life and many more to come. I can’t wait to see what happens next and yet I just want to hold you like this forever. My baby. My last wee one. The one with the curls. The one with the gentle baby fat. The one with overwhelming affection. The one with the beautiful kissy lips. The one with the not-really-brown-not-really-green eyes. You’re so yummy. I love you. Happy Birthday.

21 Days

21 Days With You

It’s been 21 days since we shifted from a square family of four to a more tricky polygon with five sides. This is the part where things start to get a litte nasty for me. You see, it’s also been 21 days of not being able to run out and do errands– especially as my husband has suddenly become more than eager to run out for me no matter what the request. This causes hurt feelings in the hormonally unbalanced writer of this blog because it feels like an eagerness to abandon ship too. Ethan’s the one who can’t be in public and although I understand he’s somewhat tied to my “lovely lady humps” I can run to the supermarket that is NEXT DOOR for a gallon of milk, or bag of diapers. I can drop off a movie at Blockbuster that is next door to the grocery store next door. But I’m not really given the option. His defense is that he often takes one or both of the older children with him so it’s not like he’s leaving me drowning. My argument is I don’t mind taking one or both of those same children with me too. I think maybe Ethan scares him a little. Either way, I need to get out of this damn house! I need to be unattached to the very warm and relentlessly adorable 9 plus pound bundle that is currently on my lap for more than a couple of hours a day! The light at the end of the tunnel is that I’ve been doing my research on breastfeeding and going back to work and all of that and it says we should introduce the bottle between 3 and 6 weeks. Well, here we are. Week 3. With no pump.

Pout

Once again, another tug of war. I can’t get too huffy about the lack of the pump at this instant because, you see, I am getting a FREE pump that usually costs $300 from a good friend of mine. I’ve done the research on that too and am most eager to get it and check it to make sure it’s ok to use and I need to figure out what parts need replacement and where to replace them and how. I should have the pump in my hands for inspection by tomorrow night. The thing that concerns me is the replacement parts. While some of them come with the easy to find accessory kit, othes are harder to come by– like the tubing– that the milk flows through. So we may end up buying the Lansinoh one ($150) despite the FREE pump. Still beating myself up back and forth about it.

3 Weeks

Here was today’s to do list:

Call Dr. D (my doctor)
Call SunPass

Fold & Put Away Clothes
Put Package(s) together for AnySoldier
Call/Text/E-mail Jorge
Ask Mom about Baptism dates
Clean Mail on Counter
15 Minutes in Garage

Tha’s pretty good right? I mean I should be proud of myself, no? I got a lot done on the list. And I ended up spending WAY more than 15 minutes on the garage– I blame the back-to-back-to-back episodes of Clean House. Great now that’s got me off on a tangent and I’m window shopping the Container Store and Ikea and such. I wish I wasn’t so scattered.

No More!

No More Pictures

Wasted Day

Last night at my father in law's I got really empty out my stomach completely and then some sick. It was awful. This morning I wasn't completely recovered and spent most of the day sleeping it off and then I did some cleaning up in my kids' room. I also watched time drift away as I played on Facebook. 

Why is it I always want to do a million things and get right around to doing none of it? I left a load of laundry in the washer for TWO day because I was just on another planet I guess. It took THREE washes to get the stink out. I want so badly to step up my game around here and have a nicer looking house but I just can't get up the energy for it. The thing is, my husband rocks and I can't understand how he rocks so hard and I want to do these things for him. He is like freaking Superman around here. Cooks dinners, gives the kids baths, dresses my daughter for daycare every day, loads and empties the dishwasher. I just feel so damn lowly in comparison. 

And also, why do I have a problem reaching out? I was horribly messed up today and wanted nothing more than my mom to come over and yet when I got her on the phone, I couldn't get it out. She did end up bringing us dinner and gatorade in the evening. I'm totally lame. And I hate that my closest friends are all childless and working. Why can't they be home for me to badger? 

Yesterday when I was ill, I climbed into bed at around nine with Baby to nurse him. All in all, I was finally able to get him to sleep in his bassinnette at around 1 in the afternoon today. So from nine last night to 1 this afternoon I had a little baby attached to me. Some times, that's sweet. Other times, well not so much. Oh and he's lying right next to me on the couch. I scooped him up from the bassinette for the evening at 11:45. I need to put him down to shower but I think my husband might kill me when Baby wakes up crying for boob. 

I want more Gatorade. I can't decide on the shower thing. Do I wait or do I go? *sigh* 

Oh and one more ridiculous tangent. This is a Public Service Announcement. Breastfeeding is NOT easy. Those pictures where everything is peaceful looking and such, notice how huge the babies are. They're  nursing pros. The first few months are crazy and involve milk spraying everywhere and smelly babies and all kinds of craziness. I blame this on some forums I saw while I was looking up information on breastfeeding and going back to work. So many moms shocked at how hard it is to do. if it was super easy, there wouldn't be any formula! *grumble*

I think I'm coming off as slightly whiny tonight.