Friday, December 31, 2010

10... 9... 8...

The pressure to write a new years blog post is like the pressure of New Year's Eve. You have to do something super cool and off the hook. Or else. Don't like it one bit.


A billion things have happened this year. You've read about most of them. We have laughed and cried. Mostly laughed. The tears were joyful ones. We celebrated. Welcomed our second miracle. And had a blast. Life is wonderful. Could not ask for more. Can't wait to see what 2011 throws our way.


I don't really do resolutions. Never keep them. Think it's silly to set a big goal you can't keep.


There are things I would like to do in 2011.


I would like to do another half marathon and even consider running part of it (don't get ahead of yourselves you runners... I said part of it).


I would like to take a long weekend with just my husband. We could stay at the Holiday Inn down the road, don't care.


I would like to sleep 8 hours straight without having to get up and nurse, pump, change a diaper or put a 2 year old back to sleep.


I want to write more.


I want to figure out how to make a living blogging.


I want to become a better photographer.


I want to remember why I loved our dog and forget why he drives me nuts now. If he would stop puking in the middle of the night that would help.


I want to ring in my second annual 29th birthday surrounded by people I love.


Mostly I want to keep laughing, keep celebrating, keep loving hard, and keep on keeping on.


Hope your plans are stellar. Hope the champagne is cold. Hope 2011 is magical.


The Best part? Bring it 2011. The Best part is ready.

Happy New Year Friends.

Oh and in honor of a new year, I bought my own domain. My own little piece of the internet. Stay tuned. http://www.thebestspart.com/ how fancy is that?!?!

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Observations and Revelations: Christmas Edition

Forgive typos. I am writing through blurry eyes with greasy hair. I. Am. Exhausted.

I want Christmas put away as badly as I wanted it put up in November.

Before Christmas we had 100 Matchbox cars. Now we have 200. They are land mines. Consider yourself warned.

I don't know what people without televisions in the car do on road trips. Serious. My dad used to hook up his video camera (the off the shoulder kind) to a tv in the back of the station wagon and we would lay in the back and watch tv. My parents would go to jail for that today.

BGB does not like to poop while away from home. Up. The. Front. As soon as we got home.

You can in fact eat too much cheese ball.

I wanted nothing more than green beans for dinner tonight.

Expressing gratitude is an art form everyone should learn.

My two year old does not love snow. Perhaps if we had avoided the ramp on our first run he would feel differently.

If you pick an empty corner of the McDonald's in Wooster, Ohio to eat lunch and nurse the baby, within minutes that corner will be filled with people. Gawkers. You can look but you can't touch.

I will be vacuuming up Fraser fir and wrapping paper for months.

Watching your kids play with their cousins is awesome even if the 2 year olds yell 'mine' and 'no' back at each other for 3 days. Please note: Cannon could claim no toys as 'mine' yet did so anyway.

A certain 2 month old made it 8 hours last night. Perhaps I should thank the red blend.

The game 'headbandz' although intended for ages 7 & up is serious fun with adults and drinks.

My baby boy just kissed his baby sister and said 'night night Emerson, I love you'. He did not however understand why it made me cry.

We ate. We drank (a lot). We are merry. Still. We are luckier than we deserve. I will spend the remainder of the week putting things away. Putting life back together. And looking forward to New Years Eve dinner out with my husband.

Hope yours were merry and bright!

The Best part? Sleeping in my own bed tonight.

xoxo







Saturday, December 25, 2010

Couldn't stay away...

Just a few highlights.

I figured out the cameras. Used a tripod for the posterity video. Just watched it. Managed to park my fat ass right in front of it for 'the moment'. So you can hear his excitement and see my worn out Christmas morning cashmere. Fail.

On Christmas eve the effing dog ate a dozen jumbo crayons while no one was watching (cause we were watching a three year old, two year old, one year old and two month old while also sucking down wine, vodka and sushi). To be clear the dog is not a puppy. He is 4. Halfway through unwrapping we saw the crayons again. Nothing says merry Christmas like dog vomit.

Quiche. Magnificent. Cinnamon pull apart. To die for. We are opening a bottle of red. It's after noon. 12:08 to be exact. Don't judge. Don't really care if you do. We're doing it anyway.

Hope your day is merry and bright!

The Best part? We made it to 11 without any requests to watch Mickey.


Friday, December 24, 2010

He's coming!!!

It's Christmas eve. Our tree is more like kindling. That's what happens when you buy one on Black Friday. It's so bad that Dan is rationing the time the lights can be on for fear it'll catch fire. Fun taker. Don't get too close though. It'll getcha.

Today is officially the last day I can say 'guess I should call Santa' or 'Santa's watching' or 'he's making a list, which one are you on?'. Damn. Back to real discipline I suppose.

There's a taffeta dress (not me. I am not 12) planned for tonight. And an argyle christmas vest. And sushi. And good friends.

Dan is getting more than just undershirts but not much more given the price limit. I am trying to figure out how to shoot video on both the flip and the regular video camera (the one that shoots video for posterity not for Facebook) and also take real pictures. Right now mounting a camera on the Bjorn sounds like a good option. Stay tuned.

I am more excited for tomorrow morning than I ever was as a kid (sorry mom and dad) and my parents did Christmas right.

Drove around and looked at Christmas lights last night. Of all the times I didn't have one of my 700 cameras. A light up plastic nativity scene next to a Home Depot blow up NASCAR with a Peanuts character hanging out the side. I shit you not. Nothing says Happy Birthday Jesus like plastic and NASCAR. Best we found this year.

All is calm-ish. All is bright.

Think I will make myself scarce for the remainder of the year. Unless the mood hits me just right. You will be ok. I promise.

Until then, merry merry and happy happy. Hope your holidays are smothered in love, laughter, and good wine.

The Best part? The look on his face tomorrow.

xoxo




Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Just so we are clear...

Dan jokes that I am kind of hard on Cannon on the blog. Here's the thing. He is the sweetest, kindest, funniest, smartest, most adorable, wonderful little boy. But that stuff isn't funny. And no one wants to read another blog written by a mom talking about her perfect her kids are (and we celebrate imperfection, not perfection).


So, don't mistake my stories about his listening skills or drinking from the toilet for me thinking he's not the most wonderful thing ever. He is.


Just so we are clear, he is cuter, smarter, and more fun than your kid and he can beat up your kid to boot. So there.


The Best part? He told a woman at Target yesterday that Santa was playing golf.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Now hear this...

So it's that time of year.  Report card time.  Yep.  At 2 we get report cards.  I am certain it's rolled into tuition somewhere.  Anyway.

We got Cannon's report card today and among the A's, S's, W's, and N's (Always, Sometimes, Working on it, and Never) is a written evaluation.  It starts something like this.  Actually it starts exactly like this: Cannon is one of the best listeners in class.  Really?  Really.

Don't get me wrong.  I am beaming with pride that when we're not around he's polite, listens, and is a kind and good person.  Love him.  However. 

He does not listen to me.  Or at least I wouldn't classify him as a 'good listener'.  I mean if you're going to listen to someone it should be the woman who birthed you (sans an epidural I might add if I haven't mention that before) right?  I would say 50% of them time he listens.  To me.  100% of the time he hears me. 

I guess it's good that his teachers think he's the perfect kid.  Our image as the perfect parents is preserved.  Whew.  Relief.

In other news.

If I catch the dog wiping his ass on the carpet one more time I am giving him away for the holidays.  I know there's snow on the ground but I am pretty sure animals in the wild don't have the choice of snow or berber.  Neither do you.  While we're at it.  Stay off my new bedding.  For real.

I am this close to being finished with my Christmas shopping.  I went to the mall today.  I bought nothing.  I got asked four times if I wanted hand cream by someone with an accent.  I thought about giving a piece of my mind to the four women in their pj's who parked in the 'family first' parking spot sans a family or stroller.  But I didn't.  It's Christmas and I'm sad for them that they can't read.

BGB got four immunizations today.  She wants to snuggle.  Twist my arm.  How is she two months old?  Serious.

This is the second time I've written this post.  It's always better the first time.

The Best part?  Besties coming to visit tomorrow.  Until then. XOXO

And. For the record.  The only 'N's' he got were in identifying plant types.  Um.  Hello? He knows what a Christmas tree is... what more do you want?

Monday, December 20, 2010

... just cuz....

I haven't in a while.













Determined to get a picture of both of them, together, dressed up at Chrsitmas.  Standby.

They are clearly the Best part. 

Sunday, December 19, 2010

... 'twas the week before Christmas...

And at the Best house...

Christmas cards are hung on the fridge with care. If you didn't send a picture, don't look its not there.

Santas elves have been hard at work. Cannon won't know where to start (truth: I get tears in my eyes thinking about him coming down on Christmas morning. I really think most of the fun of Santa is for parents. Love it.). Despite a self imposed price limit I am pretty sure Dan wants more than undershirts in his stocking. I should get on that.

And if you think Santa isn't bringing Emerson a dozen headbands and coordinating flowers you would be wrong. Very. Very. Wrong.

Christmas candy is made. Workouts are not happening.

A baby is sleeping 7 hours at night. I celebrated with a 6am trip to walmart (the saturday before christmas, which i think was brilliant, it was heaven. Yep, just described walmart as heaven) and 4 glasses of wine on date night.

I am counting the days. Ignoring the bills. And loving every minute.

The house is warm and cozy. The pours are healthy.

Christmas is so close. Love.

The Best part? 6 days. Oh and sushi for Christmas eve dinner.



Wednesday, December 15, 2010

make no mistake

I have never loved winter. 

I still don't.

He is cute.  Adorable.  A beautiful little boy.

He is smart.  Can count to 20 in two languages (no not Mandarin Chinese).  Knows his alphabet.  Says an occasional profound thought.

He does precious things like put both of his hands on my face and say 'I have a question Mommy!' and then when I ask him what the question is, he just looks stumped. 

He is falling in love with his baby sister.  It's adorable.

He is fun.  He is funny.  He keeps us constantly on our toes. 

He loves us and we love him so much it hurts.

I am proud to be his Mom.

But make no mistake.

He is 2.

The word 'no' makes him throw himself on the ground in a fit of tears.

We played playdoh today for 12 blissful minutes.  Then he took a bite.  I gently reminded him what happens when we eat the playdoh; timeout and we put it away.  He said 'I know Mommy' and in the same breath, took a giant bite and smiled.

He napped for less than 60 minutes.

He asked for 384 cookies before lunchtime.  He got zero (victory).

He tells me, through grunts that he's pooping.  Then runs away.

He yells things like "Mommy!  Come back here now!".  Precious.

I built him a fort of pillows in the living room.  He wanted to jump on the cushionless furniture.

I am pretty sure I asked 569 times what he wanted for dinner.  This is not a hard question, the child eats four things.

After getting out his pj's I walked into the bathroom to put him in the tub and he has his wet hand in his mouth, clearly soaked with toilet water. 

He peed when he got in the tub (not abnormal around here).  Then he got a cup and started drinking bath water just minutes later.  Exclaiming 'delicious' after swallowing.

His fingernails were so long I could have given him a french manicure.  When I told him I wanted to cut them he must have heard 'I want to cut your fingers off' instead of fingernails.  Amazingly, I was right.  It did not hurt.

I miss going to the park.  It's like 5 here and no one in their right mind would take a toddler and infant out without anywhere to go.  I suppose we could go to the germ infested, pee smelling mall playground and hangout with all the other snotty nosed kids in a 30 mile radius.  But we won't.  We will continue to grocery shop in the kitchen, cook with uncooked noodles, build forts and jump on the cushionless couch, play eat playdoh, not eat vegetables, and laugh.  A lot.  It's all good.

Celebrate imperfection.

And now, I drink,  I mean relax.

The Best part?  Santa is bringing new toys, thank goodness.



Tuesday, December 14, 2010

breaking news...

This just in.  Despite my best efforts.  The bird died. 

I will rest easy knowing it did not spend it's final moments in the mouth of a golden retriever who would have no idea what to do with it once he got it in his mouth.

That is all.

Wanderings

DVR, Keurig... and now add iPad to the list of things I never thought I needed but fear I will now not be able to live without.  Early Christmas present from my parents, it's nothing short of awesome.

I am better, thanks for asking.  So glad I called the doc when I did and got meds early this time.  No need to send anymore flowers or cards, I'm on the mend.

Thud.  The unmistakeable sound of a bird flying into the sliding glass door.  It's really not that clean, I think our birds have bad vision.  And there it is, lying in the snow, stunned, possibly dying.  I leave it there.  15 minutes later the fearless dog shows up and decides to start acting like a dog instead of the person he usually thinks he is.  Tucker is laying at the door staring through the glass, not moving, but emitting some awful smell.  Must be some sort of instinct thing but it's gross.  So.  Dan's on a conference call and is no help at all.  He tells me to put my Uggs on and get a shovel.  So I do.  I shoveled up the bird and put him in the sun.  I'll update his condition as I get more information.

I have made three pages of lists today.  Gifts.  Groceries.  Errands.  To do's.  I feel no more organized or accomplished than I did before I made the lists. 

Dove soap, original recipe really does help baby acne.

That's all I've got.

The Best part?  The iPad.  Clearly.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

out of no where... again.

So, I'm minding my biz, making a pot of corn chowder (have a fab recipe si quieres) cause we are 'hunkering down'.  If you know wherebouts we live you know that we are expecting white death.  4 inches.  That's right. 

So I'm making chowder and my right boob starts to hurt.  Ache.  At first I thought it was Jillians fault (did her Shred workout yestserday).  It got worse.  Then I started to shake.  Chills.  Blocked duct.  Maybe it's only a blocked duct.  Then my temp plumets to 95 and right back up to 102.  Awesome.  So now I'm achy and freezing and my boob is on fire.  Again.  It took 30 minutes for all of this to happen.  Really.

Shit.

I have mastitis.  Again.  How is this possible?  Seriously.  What am I doing to cause/ deserve this?  Fortunately, should I need them, I have some perc's left.  Also called the doc and got a z-pack called in stat.  And the shower massage has already happened and probably will have to again tonight, despite the pain.

Here's hoping I am better and not worse by morning.

The Best part?  At least I know the misery to expect this time.

Friday, December 10, 2010

in case you were wondering...

It's 930am and we're all dressed.  AND we are not leaving the house, at least not this morning.  So.  There.

BGB even has on tights.  However, that created the question of the morning... does it go:

diaper, onesie, tights, fancy pants
OR
diaper, tights, onesie, fancy pants


For serious y'all.  This confused me this morning.

On another note, I will focus all day long today on tightening my abs, while I sit, while I walk, while I do everything.  Anyone else notice when you hold a baby you let your stomach hang out like Santa Claus?  Just me?  Ok, fine.

Update: Huggies size 2 diapers 'hold it all in' swimmingly.

The Best part?  Polka dot fancy pants.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

...not goin' anywhere...

Yesterday morning, mid morning, I went upstairs and got dressed.  Put on pants that buttoned, earrings, a top and some socks.  I grabbed a shirt and pants for Cannon and brought them down to where he was parked in front of the television -- shocking, I know.

I sat down in front of him and started to take off his pj's and put on 'real clothes' to which he promptly asked 'where we goin' Mommy?'.  'Not goin' anywhere buddy, just thought we'd wear clothes today.'

So my two year old associates getting dressed with leaving the house.  Interesting.  This is a sure fire sign of too many pj days (as I sit here in my pj's at 1 in the afternoon, he's dressed cause he's at school today).  On top of that, I have SO many outfits E is going out grow if I don't start putting her roly poly self in them, so I've made a decision.

We will get dressed more.  That's right.  We'll wear regular clothes more often.  I figure if my friend Sarah, who has five children, three of whom are triplets, can get her kids dressed to the 9's every single freaking day, along with herself, I can get my crew of two dressed at least to the 5's.  Maybe higher if I try. 

I'll start tomorrow.  We'll start small.  Dressed by 10 (we have a playdate, we'll have to be dressed by then), all three of us. 

Please don't mistake this for me giving up pj days.  There are days where we all wake up and it's 2 outside and 8 hours later we're still in our pj's and I'm totally fine with that.  In fact, I love those days.  Perhaps they just need to come less often to be more appreciated.

Unrelated revelation: Pretty sure your big brother calling you 'chunk a munk' will only be ok for your self esteem for a short while.  Mom and Dad will need a new nickname before you turn 13.

AND... E is 7 weeks old today.  I'm certain, I just know, that any day now she's going to surprise me and not get up at 3am.  I just know it.  Fingers crossed.

And one more.  How festive is my new header? Did it all by myself. 

The Best part?  She's basically a doll for me to play dress up with.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Redistributed.

So.  I can happily report that my scale at home (this is important because every scale I've ever been on in a doctors office is high.) is reading the same number it did before I got pregnant with BGB.  6.5 weeks.  Please compare that two 52+ weeks with Cannon.  I deserve a medal. 

However.

I have done nothing.  I am not dieting, nor have I exercised other than chasing Cannon around the house.  I am one of those women who I usually hate.  It feels good.

However.

What does not feel good is what is an apparent redistribution of 'assets' if you will.  So the number is the same, however, it appears that my calves or ankles or neck or elbows or maybe even thighs got skinnier cause my midsection is preventing my jeans from buttoning without a muffin top (and some of them without cutting of circulation to my lower half). 

So, let's talk about the mush that is my midsection.  Or let's not talk about it.  Let's just figure out a way to get rid of it.  I'll be doing Jillian on DVR today or maybe tomorrow.  Can't stand being 'soft'. 

Oh, and a side note.  Weight, please keep falling off, cause when I got pregnant I was probably carrying around 10 pounds I shouldn't have been.  Thanks.

The Best part?  This post wasn't written around BGB's first birthday, like the one I wrote about finally losing it all after Cannon was born. (can't find it right now).

Monday, December 6, 2010

it stains...

It's been a while since I've talked about poop.  I won't cross the line and talk about toddler man poops.  I'll just say whenever he's ready to move those into the toilet I'm all for it.

Baby poop.  Cannon was never exclusively on breastmilk.  Little Miss Thang isn't that into formula so we don't have a choice. 

I jinxed it.  At 6 tonight I said 'Emme (which on a side note, we are pronouncing 'Emmie' or 'Emmy' in case you were curious) has been in the same outfit all day long'.  That's major.  Sunday she was in four outfits before noon.  Within minutes I was upstairs with an up the back poop. 

It's worse if things 'move' while she's in the bouncy or the carseat.  What's funnier is as soon as she poops she falls asleep.  Instantly.

Anyway.  Huggies size 1's have failed us.  However.  I have boxes of them.  So, I've gotta use 'em.  We'll be trying Luvs next.  They've worked really well with C and do hold in those man poops. 

The Best part?  All my kids clothes are now clean all the time thanks to constant washing.

it coulda been...

It could've been.  Filled with tears.  Screaming.  Snotty nosed crying.  Bribery.  Begging.  Pleading.  A terrified toddler.  A sweaty Mom.  A total failure.  A really fabulous blog post.  It was not.

We were first in line.  Saw Santa arrive.  Cannon was all business.  Didn't mess around.  Got right to it.  That's right.  We took the ad.



And you can't ask for a better shot than this one.



So for you readers, it's a disappointment.  But for me, it was perfection.  And now I have another cup of coffee and put my feet up.  And he has a giant sucker for being such a good boy.

The Best part?  The bow.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

BMW

We didn't drive the minivan.  Still felt old.

So last night was a surprise birthday party for a friend from college.  A surprise 30th birthday party.  We graduated the same year.  30 is approaching.  Quickly.  He was surprised.  Saw some friends from the past.  Spent a lot of time talking about how we don't feel far removed from college but when we stand next to an 18 year old we realize just how far removed we are.  Anyway.

So, it's at a bar.  A bar in the hip area of town where we used to go BC (Before Children, Before Cannon; whichever you prefer).  Have probably been twice since he was born.  Make that 3 times.  Our bar tab was huge.  We're not sure why or how.  We stayed out late.  Too late.  And by late I mean midnight.  Yep.  Midnight. 

So, we went to bed at 1.  Emerson got up at 4.  Again at 6.  And Cannon was up at 7.  BC today would have been a day to blow up an air mattress and watch Friends dvd's all day.  Instead it's the lazy Sunday with children edition where we watch too much television and all nap at 1.  Or I hope we all nap at 1.  Normal Sunday stuff will not get accomplished.  And we will remember why we don't and can't go out every weekend.  Perhaps once a quarter is a good goal.  And by 'out' I mean to a quiet dinner and home by 9.

Life is good great just the way it is.  With our cozy family where we sip wine and turn in early.  Now I really sound old.  Prepare yourself for 2 1/2 months of posts about turning 30.

Until then I'll leave you with this.  My parents are going to Mexico to celebrate my 30th birthday. 

And this.  Kohl's should send more $10 gift cards in the mail so I can continue to get kcups for free.

And this.  My new boots did not give me blisters.

And.  Songs from children's tv shows haunt and torture me at 3am.

And one more.  There's 3 inches of snow on the ground and my 2 year old has zero interest in playing in it.  I'm ok with that.

The Best part?  Slow cooking chichen chili.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

I'm doing it. Today.

I am so bad at 'sleeping when the baby sleeps'.  In fact, I suck at it.  I have yet to do it and it's been 6 weeks (what?!? she's 6 weeks old today!?!). 

See, there are matchbox cars to pick up.  Dishes to load or unload.  Laundry to fold (notice I didn't say 'put away').  Tables to dust.  Exercising to ponder.  Decorating to do.  Errands to run.  Facebook to catch up on (yeah right, like I ever get behind on fb).  Blogs to read.  Friends to email.  Phone calls to return.  Cows to milk.  Eyebrows to pluck.  Bills to pay.  Christmas lists to make.  I could go on.

Today.  I will do it.  I will sleep when the baby sleeps.  Cannon is at school (for the record, I truly believe I am a better mom and he is a happier toddler because he goes to school and interacts with other kids and adults two days a week, it's well worth the cost). 

So, today I will do it.  I'm doing it.  I'm going.  Don't even try and stop me.  I will not brew another cup.  I will feed her and go to bed.  Here I go. 

The Best part?  Today's small task?  Eyebrows.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

it's about time

We slept in.  We dined leisurely.  Tasted food.  Took vacations.  Long ones.  Slept 10 hours a night.  Went to bars just cause.  We did projects.  Painted rooms.  Redecorated.  Spent money.  Hours were spent on small tasks like washing the cars or organizing the garage.  Pretty sure I remember more than one sunday where we blew up an air mattress in the living room and watched Friends DVD's all. day. long.  We thought we were busy.  Really busy.  Afterall, we both worked fulltime.  AND had a dog.

After Cannon was born we'd laugh about what we did with all of our time before he arrived.   We were inefficient at best.  We'd say.  Or.  We must have wasted more time doing nothing...

Well, enter Emerson.  What on earth did we do with all our time when we only had one baby?  Seriously y'all.  We didn't know busy. 

Now I use the tv as a babysitter.  Now I make promises I can't keep to a two year old.  Now I do laundry but it never makes it out of the laundry room (also a curse/ blessing of having a second floor laundry).  Now I set short term goals and work to accomplish small tasks.  Now I go to the grocery store twice cause I didn't have room in the cart or in my brain to buy stuff for Christmas AND groceries (yes, I shop at a superstore, duh).   I'm learning man on man defense (or some sports analogy like that).  Now I postpone potty training (although on Sunday he did go on the big boy potty!) cause I just can't devote the time right now.  Now we are busy.  I think.

So, my readers with three children (or five), you can wipe away the tears from laughter.  And my friends with only one child, you're not busy.  Safe to say the transition from one to two is rougher than the transition from no babies to one baby, at least for us.  But we're 6 weeks in and making it.  And we're happy and we're having fun.  

So, I celebrate imperfection.  I celebrate 'making it'.  I celebrate getting a shower every day.  I celebrate making sure everyone is fed and clothed.  I celebrate the small things and laugh at what falls by the wayside.  It couldn't have been that important anyway, right?

I will continue to use the tv as a babysitter when I need it.  I will strive to accomplish everything and settle for it when I accomplish nothing.  And I will make new years resolutions that have nothing to do with being a better wife or mom cause I don't think it gets much better. 

On another note: If shoes with curved bottoms could make you skinny, wouldn't everyone be skinny by now?  Pretty sure you've wasted your money on your Sketchers.  Also, it's plastic light up nativity scene time.  Get ready.  Oh and remember this post?  It's back.  Only this year it has an arrow through it.  Nothing says 'happy birthday Jesus' like a deer hanging from a basketball hoop.

The Best part?  Remembering to celebrate imperfection.