I'm a Genius! and a Bad Influence

Have I mentioned that Hailley is not a morning person?  Each and every dayspring I am greeted with tears, wails and the best word on earth, "NNNNOOOOOOO!" (insert sarcasm here)  This morning Hailley woke me up at 6:45 a.m. screaming in her room.  Was she sick?  Nooo! Was she hurt? Nooo!  Was she scared?  Nooo!  Hailley was awake, and it was morning.

I am tired of the sunrise tantrums.  I want to wake up like Cinderella, with birds singing around me (and making my bed), warm sun shining on my face, and a hot bath and clean clothes (complete with ribbons) to slip into.  Hailley is quite effectively ruining my morning fantasies.  She would be Lucifer the cat, eating my birds, in the Disney classic.  So I made the executive decision that I would not allow her attitude to affect mine.  I want my day to start nice, and darn it if I am going to let a whiny toddler set fire to my desires.

I have to figure out how to get my attitude to change hers.  So far it's been a bust.  But this morning..

When Hailley started her usual meltdown at the ripe hour of 7 a.m., I decided to feed her marshmallows.  Yes that's what I wrote, marshmallows.  Big fat ones that plugged up her angry beautiful little mouth and turned her frown upside down!

Now we are both smiling, and I know why parents feed their kids that sugary crap at breakfast time.  Needless to say I can't keep doing this, but today my birds feel it's safe to come out.  I left my bed unmade if any feathered friends make their way in there. 

My Bloomin Baby Boy

Maximus, my five month-old son, is crawling.  Okay, fine, so its scooting, technically, but either way, he's on the move!  I am so grateful that I get to see his first moves; I worked when both of my daughters were infants, so I didn't get to experience the joy that comes with actually catching "the firsts". 

Boy, oh boy, is he moving fast though!  I mean in his progression.  Just a couple of weeks ago (I have April 1st on the calendar as the first time he scooted) he reached for a toy and then pushed himself forward on his elbows  to get it.  Yesterday Max had to be removed from under the table where he was trying to investigate some cords.  I had set him down in the middle of the floor, so he traveled about 4 1/2 feet in the less than two minutes I averted my eyes.  Where's the fire buddy? 

This morning, he was so wriggly that I couldn't finish changing him on the changing table.  He kept rolling over!  I moved him to the floor and found myself trying to button his onesie while he was on his stomach scooting away from me.  Really?

I thought I had more time with a cuddly newborn!  I guess not.  I keep thinking, if this is what he is like now, what is he going to be doing in two, three months?  When he is a year old?  Heaven help us. 

(Quick prayer to God:  Father, please watch over my wild little boy, and give me the patience and skill to deal with his future shenanigans.)

...Really?

I had the three kids in the car and we were running an errand.  All was going well so far- I even stopped at the gas station and got everyone treats. 

When we got to our destination I got the bulky double stroller out of the trunk and went around to the side of the car, to remove my 2 year old daughter from her car seat.  I opened the door.  There she sat, squeezing her entire juice drink out into her lap. 

*Sigh*

Love means not minding the sticky mess. 

Hailley Turns Two

I'm a cereal in the morning kind of mom.  Between the late nights I pull doing homework, the twice a night feedings I do with Maximus, and the getting 3 young kids ready to be out the door by 7:45 a.m. that I have to handle, I have no remote interest in adding a kitchen mess to clean to my morning list.  This morning was different though: my middle child is turning two today! 

Excited, I skip into the girls' room this morning and sing, "Good morning ladies!"  Silence is the response I am met with.
"It's time to get up and get ready for school!" Hailley, who was sleeping on the floor next to her toddler bed as usual, starts to stir.  I focus my good mood on her first. 
"Happy birthday Hailley! You are two years old today!"
"NOOOOooooooo.." She mumbles. I ignore this.
"Hailley, when someone asks you how old you are, say 'I'm two!' " I continue.
"NOOOOOO!" She shouts.  Nothing like waking up a toddler who is not a morning person. 
I make sure the girls are out of bed and move to the kitchen.  I'm not going to let her sour face ruin my morning!

So I whip up scrambled eggs, sausage patties and pancakes, complete with one little lit candle. 
Swaylynn has gotten Hailley dressed and in her high chair.  Both girls are staring at me with blank faces.  Looks like I will have to emit all the positive moods today. 
"Happy birthday to you.." I start singing as I walk towards Hailley with her birthday breakfast. "Happy birthday to you.."
"Nnnoooooooo.." Hailley starts to growl.  She shrinks down into her chair.  I slow down but I'm still singing.  "NNNOOOOOO!!" She yells again.
"Don't you want to blow out your candle honey?" I ask her.  She has shrunk down further in her chair, and has a horrible look on her face.  Sway is giggling in her chair next to Hailley. 
"Look at her face!" Sway giggles again. I hide my own smirk.  It's pretty funny, but all H-E-double hockey sticks will break loose if Hailley thinks we are teasing her. 
Hailley scowls even more, a feat which I did not think was possible.  She shakes her head at me and says, (you guessed it!) "NNNOOOO!"
I ended up blowing out her candle for her.  She also decided to refuse to eat this morning, so breakfast was a complete flop.  I have stopped singing by this time.  So much for a cheery birthday morning!

Like I said, I'm a cereal in the morning kind of mom. 

Sweat Baby, Sweat

This year I joined the millions of other Americans who vowed to lose weight in 2012.  I am proud to announce that I have stuck to my goal (which was not a New Year's alcohol-induced declaration, thank you!) so far this year and I have worked out every single week since the first week of January. Three times a week minimum, at least 30 minutes per time.  Come hell or high water, I'm doing it! 

My husband treated us to a gym membership, which is my preferred method of huffing my way to a sweaty disaster, but alas, it is not always possible for me to get there.  To compensate for this, I have invested in home workout activities.  I have the Wii Fit, the Just Dance 3 game (which totally rocks! ), an exercise ball that spends more time entertaining my daughters than me, and lately, my BabyTone Workout DVD by Dustin Maher.  I love this DVD, and I highly recommend checking it out.  Of course I have the stamina of silly putty so this workout makes my cellulite beg for mercy, but it's worth it.

The workout is cool because it requires using your baby as a weight in the routines.  Maximus LOVES this.  So does Hailley.  She screams in delight, invades my workout space, and even has tried to climb me as I exercise.  I can now add "tree" to my resume.  Sweet. 

Today Hailley had a new idea.  I was standing in the living room holding Max out in front of me as if he had a loaded diaper, while I did squats.  Maximus is squealing in delight, and I am praying my legs don't snap like pretzel sticks in thick cheese dip.  Hailley watched me for a moment, then she went to her room, got her baby-doll and started mimicking me.  It was so cute!  And much better than pretending I am a tree. 

She does listen...

Yesterday I took my kids grocery shopping.  If you want an adrenaline rush, skip the bungee jumping or luging- just take my three kids to Walmart!  There is ALWAYS someone who melts down during shopping (hint: it's not me!) Add this stress to the dirty looks I get while toting around a shrieking toddler/infant/both, and I'm either burning calories at lightning speed or I'm setting myself up for coronary failure.  I once had an elderly woman ask me: "Is that your child?"  I felt like saying,  "No, I just randomly bring screaming kids that aren't mine around here, just for the fun of it!" I now treat shopping for food like an obstacle course, and I'm racing against myself and the time it took me before.  In and out in 45 minutes-that's a record! 

Anyway so after I pull into our apartment complex and park, I arrange for Swaylynn to take Hailley up the stairs while I get the groceries up.  Our apartment is on the second floor, so this is also an exercise in speed: hurry up and get my stuff upstairs before Hailley notices the gate is down and wanders over to the staircase (and I have a heart attack!)  Sway is an excellent helper, and usually occupies her little sister while I do the heavy lifting.  Yesterday, however, Sway came out after me because she had to bring in her backpack.  I was loading up my arms with bags from the trunk already-as many as my noodle biceps can handle.  Sway comes around the other side of the car and says to me, "Can you please put my coat on your head and carry it in?  My arms are full."  I look at my daughter.  She has her backpack and her coat, both of which she could put on and carry inside, and she wants me to help her?
"Sway look at all the stuff I'm carrying!" I huff as I turn to go inside.  No way I'm adding to the teetering load I now am balancing.  This is what I hear behind me, coming from the mouth of my eight-year old:
"Oh, you are fine. That's what you always tell me when I have a bunch of stuff to carry, so I guess now it's my turn to tell you- you are fine!"
I laughed all the way inside and up the stairs.  I guess I had that coming.

Are You Coming Home Honey?

Ah, the weekend.  Saturdays are made for sleeping in (7:30), relaxing (laundry) and...marker all over Hailley's face?  I opened her bedroom door to see her sitting on Sway's chair pillow, decorating her face and the pillow with blue marker.  My little artist.  And it was only 8 am. 

After the art fiasco, the rest of my day went as follows:
The house was a disaster.  I started cleaning immediately. Hailley peed on the living room table (potty training is fun!) Swaylynn, my 8 year-old, started to melt down around 11 because I let her stay up too late the night before.  Being the genius I am, I put her down for a nap with Hailley. This meant they spent their quiet time fighting.  Maximus, my 4 month-old, was gassy and therefore irritable and refused to nap when the girls did.  This meant I also did not get a nap in.  By the time Blake came home at 3:30, I was ready to escape. 

Now my husband loves me and wants me to be happy.  However, if I don't declare some "me" time then it just doesn't happen.  Men are so different-they take care of themselves first and everyone else comes after that.  It is not that Blake is cruel or overly selfish, its just the way he is programmed.  This is why when he sauntered home finally, I handed him the baby and said, "Well, I've got a few errands to run, so I'm leaving."  I had no idea where I was going to go or what I was going to do, but I figured I'll get to that after I get the heck out of the house. 

"Okay honey!" was his cheerful response.  I quickly explained that everyone was hungry and grouchy, and I headed out the door without even changing out of my Mom At Work outfit.  I had escaped!  I went straight to the mall.  I never go shopping.  For a person who rarely goes anywhere without diapers and goldfish snacks, I felt like I was on vacation.  My plan was to window shop mostly.  Oh, I had a fantastic time.  So much fun in fact, trying on dresses and drooling over shoes and treating myself to a new necklace, that I never even looked at my cell phone to check the time. Finally the high started to wear off and I heard my cell phone chirp with a new text message.  My husband had written, Do you plan to come home honey?

Of course I planned to come home. Eventually.