Parker and His Mini Me

Okay, I guess they do look alike after all. I have been thinkin' that Gus looks more like my dad than anyone, but this pretty much clinches it. Gus looks like his daddy.

Surviving a haircut, 101

I think I have to admit it. My children are growing up right before my eyes. I took Millie and Holden to get their first ( professional) haircuts on Wednesday. I have been battling the idea of giving up control to another person for quite some time now. I have been weilding scissors over Holden's hair for 4 years now. There's something about the creative control that I MUST own. Alas, I gave in and made an appointment with a children's salon here in town. I was one of those ANNOYING parents, ( I never thought I'd be) watching like a hawk over this poor woman's shoulder. Carol ( stylist) was very patient with me... and my flashing camera.( I ended up taking over 200 pictures... obsess much?Jeesh) Millie ended up getting about 6" taken off. It's a little shorter than I'd like it to be, but it's for the best. Her hair was so broken and split at the ends. Both kids were hesitant about getting their hair cut. Holden said, " Mom, you're not going to sob are you?" ( remember back in december when I lobbed off his locks for Parker's Christmas gift?") Millie flashed a major sad face, and tears welled up in her eyes. She said very quietly, " Mama, I don't wanna get a haircut." ( while she choked back the tears... big lip sticking out) I said, " welp Peanut, your hair isn't going to grow much longer if we don't trim off the end a little bit.It'll be fun, you'll see."( as I tried to keep the tears from welling up in my eyes.) She agreed, and sat very still. It's funny how much thicker her hair looks and feels now. Holden was unphased by the haircut. He did however like sitting in the cool chair. Sometimes I think I'm a big weirdo. I am a complete control freak about how my children's hair looks and their person al style... but when I go to the salon to get my hair cut, I say , " Have at it. I trust you." I always leave looking temporarily cool. ( After I wash it.. I always go right back to " Mom hair.") I have had every color under the rainbow.( including silver and bronze) I have shaved my head pretty much bald. I have had extensions to my butt. I have permed, straightened, and attempted dreads. Maybe one day my kids will experiment with their looks. I'm down with that. Watch~ They'll keep their hair trimmed and neat... and properly highlighted. That would be my luck. :)

too perfect

We found the most perfect t-shirt for our Wee Angus. I'm sure Angus Young would be proud. I knew "Tiny" would be born a natural rocker.

Mornings at our house

For those of you who know us well, you know this very simple fact: WE ARE NOT MORNING PEOPLE. When Scarlett became part of Parker and my life, I remember saying ," hey, a puppy will help us get up and go in the mornings!" 2 months later, I find Parker and Scarlett the puppy all snuggled up still in bed @ 2 pm... after I returned from Core, and that dumb "mirrors used in fine art in history." class I was forced to take. ( dumb academic credits) I digress. After 2 months of dog ownership we had trained our puppy not to be a morning person either. Jump ahead 5 years. Millie and Holden are born. We are thrown into the baby machine. Change, feed,burp, sleep, play, cry,sleep,feed,cry,sleep,change,feed,..... repeat. ( 20 times a day... not necessarily in that order.. but remember to multiply that by 2. )By the time Millie and HIP were 10 months old, they were sleeping until 11 am. I was told by a person who shall remain nameless, " Oh my God, wake those kids up and get on with your day." Um, NO. Waking up babies is against my religion. I do not wake up babies. I certainly do not wake up twins if I don't have to. Millie and Holden did not wake up before 10 am ( unless forced to ) until they started going to school. Jump to today. Today was like most days. Gus giggles and wiggles in his bassinet @ about 6 am. ( he typically sleeps from 9pm-6am.) I peer over with one eye open . He catches my gaze and smiles a toothless smile. I pick him up and smell his divine baby smell, and squeeze him tight. I walk him to the bathroom and lay him in his happy place( the counter on a pillow wrapped in fleece. )He loves this place so much. I think it's because the mirror allows him to check out his rad baby self while I wipe him and change his stinkers. He typically grabs his peep, and I panic because I haven't cut his fingernails in awhile. Gus winds up into a massive crying fit. I change the diaper in 10 seconds flat and pick him up, wherein he stops crying immediately. I walk over to my side of the bed, lay him on a cloth diaper. Gus wails because I can't whip my boob out fast enough. Parker moans and rolls over. I pop the booby in the crying baby mouth and the child suckles for an HOUR. I love every second of it. 7 am: After popping all of my pills and brushing the teeth. I roll downstairs to pack to lunches. I make 1 pb&j. cut in half. Cut up an orange pepper, place in baggies. Wash and cut up some sort of fruit. fish throught the drawer of granola bars for bags of cookies. Get overpriced, organic chocolate and strawberry milks out of fridge. I try to draw something of interest on a small love note for each lunch box. I rememer the days where I used to draw small masterpieces for my kids' lunchboxes, so they knew I loved them more than the world, and I wasn't forcing them into school because I didn't want them around, I just knew they were ready. Back to today. I write I heart you Holden, and I heart you Millie a with a simple drawing in marker and slap each note in the lunches.. knowing that I could still draw if I wanted to.. but I just don't have the time anymore. I place the lunchboxes at the back door. Stop off at the computer to check the weather.. so I don't dress the peeps inappropriately for the day. I mosey back upstairs, kiss each 4 1/2 year old child on the head and say " 2 minutes." I pick out outfits, unders, and socks. I say , " okay up and at'em." I hear a wraspy voice whipser from under the covers, " where are we going?" I say " school." I hear, " I'm not going to school." I say.. uh yes you are.. you love school." I hear a very clear, " NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I'M NOT GOING TO SCHOOL." I think to myself, UG. I hear, " Holden first." Then I hear another different wraspy voice from under the other set of covers, " Millie." Then it's back and forth. " holden, " Millie, " holden..." and I finally say, " Let's get dressed at the same time. " I hear , "NO." ( simultaneously) In walks groggy Parker with fussy Gus. I take fussing baby. He cheers up. Kids sit in beds, hair every direction, sweaty. I say, " please get dressed. " they say , " no." I say.. " okay I'm getting a little annoyed." they say " we're not going to school." I say, " I gotta go get your breakfasts ready. ( time check: 8:30) I freak out. " Get dressed and come downstairs." ( in my mommy voice. I have forgotten how to be nice. I didn't yell.. I just said it while clentching my teeth. Baby is crying. Kids are WAILING, " NO MOMMY!!! HELP USSSSSSSSSSS!" I say , " nope. get dressed." Millie literally jumps into her clothes, picks out shoes and flies down the steps. Holden sits in bed screaming. I calmly walk to the steps and say. " GET OUT OF BED. PICK UP YOUR CLOTHES AND SHOES. WALK TO THE STAIRS. WALK DOWN THE STEPS. I AM DONE WITH THIS NONSENSE." Holden walks downstairs. Sits at the table. Eats his cereal. Baby is now crying. I nurse baby while kids eat. Baby falls asleep. I take him to up his crib. Just as I am leaving the room, Millie and Holden come upstairs and scream something about how Millie looked at Holden and he didn't like it. Millie stomps her foot and spits. Baby wakes up crying. Holden cries. I'm on the verge of crying. Husband is in Shower. Time check: 8:55. I sigh. They should be in the car. I take fussy baby downstairs. Parker is making scrambled eggs. Mutters something about me not having time to make him breakfast. I raise my eyebrows higher than my hairline and tell myself not to dump scrambled eggs on his head. I put holden's shoes on while I hold the fussy overtired baby, and listen to how " Superkitty and Danny Phantom are going to save us from the bad guys,"( in one ear) and How " Alexa has a cool pair of brown flip flops."( in the other ear) Parker says , " Call sears. The dishwasher is broken." Grrr. Fine. Fine.. no big deal. I kiss my children. Holden says, " Mom, you know I love you." I said, You know I love YOU too pal. He smiles and walks to the door. Millie hugs me and kisses me. I know they will have a good day. I walk back upstairs and nurse the babe . He falls asleep in the calm. I call Sears. As I wait on hold for 30 minutes, a crazy robin pecks on the office window. Just as the operator picks up, the baby wakes up crying. Good timing. I sigh and go back upstairs and try to talk and take care of fussy babe at the same time. Today was pretty much like any other day ( minus the broken dishwasher.) I'm thinking about joining the circus. ( one without animals ;) )I think I'm pretty qualified.

and the worst mother of the year award goes to....

The worst mother of the year award goes right to : Me. After a week of HIP telling me " Mom, for mother's day, we're giving you and Gus a bathing suit." I did actually have a visual of me wearing Gus in one of the cups of my bikini top. A bathing suit where you can actually tuck the baby in with you is not a half bad idea, really. I'm sure an attachment parent somewhere will invent it one of these days. Back to the point. HIP started talking about this mother's day gift on Tuesday. This morning, there was a lot of whispering about mother's day surprises and the like. As Parker was getting ready for the day, HIP was jumping in and out of our bath tub.. I stated, " Please do NOT buy me a bathing suit Parker, I like to try them on, and these things ( pointing to my boobs) are a little different than they used to be." Parker's face melted with sadness. He said " Ame, when I asked the kids what we should get you for Mother's day, Holden said ' a bathing suit for Mommy and Gus!!' and he hasn't stopped talking about it since. He's so excited." After I realized the magnitude of the statement I had made, I corrected myself by saying, " Please get me a black bathing suit, okay?" I hope I didn't crush poor little HIP. Bad mommy. Bad, bad, mommy.

his happy place

Here we are. This people, is where Gus is happy. It seems that if Gus is put in any other place, he cries. Gus can sleep in this pouch for hours upon end. The minute I put him down he wakes up screaming. Gus sleeps in the carrier through: folding laundry, doing dishes, playtime with Millie and Holden, when Millie and Holden argue ( which seems to be more and more these days) and the rest of what makes our life absolutely crazy. Gus seems to like chaos. HAHA! In my attempts to become more organized... I have become completely overwhelmed with amount of crap we have in our home and it's level of disorganization. I go to friends' houses and leave feeling so blue and overwhelmed because I know that I have to return to the state of affairs I call my home. It seems that the more I try, the worse it gets. I find myself arguing with myself ( and my inner voices) over which pile of crap gets precedence over the other. I feel like I'm spreading myself too thin with the crap piles ( some literally ( thanks to Ruby Jones) ) the laundry piles, the toy piles, mail piles, and the piles and lists of things that need to be done floating around in my head. Add in the two 4 year olds who deserve time with their mom other than following her around cleaning up while she's complaining that other people have clean homes.. why can't she? I know things could be way worse. Once, just once I'd like to come into my house and not sigh, because eventhough I spent the greater part of the day working hard to get things put away/ washed/folded/ organized, it doesn't look like I've done a thing in weeks. How do "those people" do it? How do they keep things so orderly? I know that being a mom is supposed to be challenging... but how come I can't seem to put this stuff on hold for a little while and appreciate how good things really are, instead of laboring over the things I find that are bad?

3 Months

Okay so I'm being brave and putting a picture of my lil' Gus on the ol' blog. At 3 months of age Gus seems to developing into quite a little man. He talks and mimics our sounds. He has an infectious belly laugh. He's sleeping through the night. He loves Millie and Holden. He thinks it's funny when Ruby Jones licks his face. He has discovered his hands, and has held on to a toy for a few minutes. In my attempts to keep things simple for him, he doesn't get a lot of outright stimulation.. so when he hears the TV he becomes quite pensive. He is still very attached to his mama, but will tolerate other people holding him for a few minutes here and there. My back is getting quite strong. He weighs in at 13lbs 1 oz. ( as much as Millicent Susan weighed @ 13 months old) My experience with Gus is so different than my experiences with Millie and Holden when they were babies. What a treat, to see how different everyone can be. When people comment on how much Gus looks like his daddy, I agree, but at times I see MY dad in his face. I get lost in Gus a lot. When I should be folding stupid laundry, or clearing the table. I'll look down at my sleeping babe and realize I've been just looking at him for a half an hour. Like my other 2 rock stars, Gus is a very cool little kid. I'm glad he's here.

oy

I know it's been awhile. It's just that there has been so much going on, I just can't keep up anymore. I had to slack off on something. Well, the blog was the first thing to go. One reason is: the blog freaked me out a little. I knew in the beginning of my blog that strangers were reading my very personal life stories. They were reading about my hopes and dreams and gathering opinions about me and my family. Strangers. That was the part that skeeved me out. Strangers were looking at pictures of my pregnant belly. Strangers were looking at my children. When my PPD kicked in full force, I would sit up at night thinking, " Strangers are looking at my infant." I know the point of blogging is to keep an online journal that anyone can access. Okay fine. Lot's of people do it. LOTS AND LOTS of people do it. When your hormones kick in full force.. and panic suffocates every move you make.. the idea of LOTS and LOTS of people reading personal stuff makes you go a little berzerk. I also know that when I write, it puts my feelings out there, so if anyone wants to help, they can offer opinions, suggestions, and whatever they like. I pretty much have 4 people who comment on my blog. Sometimes I hardly get a comment.. which makes the time spent a the computer a little pointless, I guess. I'm not educating anyone. I'm not pondering poilitics, finances, style, education, religion, medicine, or anything of importance to anyone. I'm just jotting down things that happen here in my own little world. I wasn't sure if anyone wanted to read about my nightly multiple panic attacks. My ability to cry for no reason. My frustration with my two 4 year olds who seemilngly have it out for me. My babe who only wants to be held.. eventhough I have 1 zillion things to do that would make the baby uncomfortable and cry. Life is definitely looking up. The weird thing is : it never looked down per se. It just looked complicated. It is still very complicated, but this is what I wanted. SO I am plugging along in my vortex of disorganization and frustration.. all the while juggling my infant and 2 cranky 4 year olds. I will get through it.. and with a smile on my face dammit, because I am lucky. I have everything I want and more. Now I just have to figure out what to do with it all. :)

I need some pointers here

As I may have stated in the past, I am enamored by Attachment Parenting. The whole idea of having your baby close to your heart, knowing what your baby needs just by the familiarity of the touch, breastfeeding, and cobedding. I love it's kind gestures. I love it's loving appeal. Here's what I DON'T love: Angus won't let anyone but me hold him. He squeals when his father tries to help. It is frustrating and sad. Parker desperately wants to help me when I am trying to get things done with the other 2 kids... but Gus ONLY wants me. It's crazy. He won't go to my mom... my sister.. and tried to stay with my friend Jude... but it only lasted 2 minutes. I do wear him in a sling pretty much all day because if he is alone~ he cries. He will however transfer to a swing if he's been asleep in the sling for more than 30 minutes. It has become EXHAUSTING. I have a house that looks like a bomb went off.. and because of my obsessive state: I cannot live with toys in everyroom of the house without wigging out. It is hard for me to pick up said toys because if I bend over Baby boy is dumped upside down.. so I have to use one hand for picking things up.. and one hand to hold baby boy in the sling. The attachment parenting has only caused more work for me. I fall asleep @ 9 pm every night. ( I used to stay up until 1am or 2 every night) The breastfeeding is best I know.. but Jeeze Louise, I can't go anywhere by myself. We have to miss one wedding in May... and we are possibly going to turn down another one in July because the exclusive breastfeeding will be messed up for life if I dare to leave him with a sitter and enough bottles to last the night. Please don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't love this stuff. It's just been 10 weeks and I haven't had a moment of alone time. It's bound to wear a girl down. I feel like Millie and Holden are taking the hit the hardest. That part kills me. I am by no means a true AP. I wear my baby 80% of the day. I co-bed before Parker comes to bed at night... and after the 6am feed. Most of all: I use a swing to rock him to sleep @ naptime.SO to all of you APs out there... do you have any pointers to help a girl out with a dream taking place in reality?So, all you true APs.. kudos friends.. you are truly dedicated

I need some pointers here

As I may have stated in the past, I am enamored by Attachment Parenting. The whole idea of having your baby close to your heart, knowing what your baby needs just by the familiarity of the touch, breastfeeding, and cobedding. I love it's kind gestures. I love it's loving appeal. Here's what I DON'T love: Angus won't let anyone but me hold him. He squeals when his father tries to help. It is frustrating and sad. Parker desperately wants to help me when I am trying to get things done with the other 2 kids... but Gus ONLY wants me. It's crazy. He won't go to my mom... my sister.. and tried to stay with my friend Jude... but it only lasted 2 minutes. I do wear him in a sling pretty much all day because if he is alone~ he cries. He will however transfer to a swing if he's been asleep in the sling for more than 30 minutes. It has become EXHAUSTING. I have a house that looks like a bomb went off.. and because of my obsessive state: I cannot live with toys in everyroom of the house without wigging out. It is hard for me to pick up said toys because if I bend over Baby boy is dumped upside down.. so I have to use one hand for picking things up.. and one hand to hold baby boy in the sling. The attachment parenting has only caused more work for me. I fall asleep @ 9 pm every night. ( I used to stay up until 1am or 2 every night) The breastfeeding is best I know.. but Jeeze Louise, I can't go anywhere by myself. We have to miss one wedding in May... and we are possibly going to turn down another one in July because the exclusive breastfeeding will be messed up for life if I dare to leave him with a sitter and enough bottles to last the night. Please don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't love this stuff. It's just been 10 weeks and I haven't had a moment of alone time. It's bound to wear a girl down. I feel like Millie and Holden are taking the hit the hardest. That part kills me. I am by no means a true AP. I wear my baby 80% of the day. I co-bed before Parker comes to bed at night... and after the 6am feed. Most of all: I use a swing to rock him to sleep @ naptime.SO to all of you APs out there... do you have any pointers to help a girl out with a dream taking place in reality?So, all you true APs.. kudos friends.. you are truly dedicated

a man of many names

It seems that we are a family who uses nicknames. From " Millie Vanilli" to Hipster.. and now we are adding in a few more just for fun. It is ohh so easy to play with a name like Angus. Parker's friends at work call him " T-Bone." Another friend said that he loves the name Angus.. because it's a good "Beefy" name. ( I cracked up at that one) At dinner I call him " Aspara-Gus." ( this is also what he will be for Halloween this year.) Everytime he gets weighed at the pediatrician's, I call him " Humun-Gus." Now other nicknames are developing per his personality. For instance: since he has massive reflux and barfs constantly, when he spits up on me I call him " Wyatt Urp." When he is on his favorite pillow in our bathroom kickin' it old school, we refer to him as " Sir Kicks a Lot." My favorite ( which I lovingly borrow from Jenny) when he is gassy " Gaseous Clay."When Gus is angry he is called : " Grumpy Gus." Given that Gus is a Parker... he has a tendancy to whine a little.. when this happens I call him " Squeaks." As for now.. as his lays wiggling in the sling on my chest.. I'll call him , " Hungry." Gotta go.

Ba Ba

Welp, we did it. Gus drank from his first bottle. Okay, it was his third bottle, counting the 2 other ones he had when he was in hospital as jaundice as a baby pumpkin. I blocked those out entirely. Gus latched onto the bottle last night as if he were always bottlefed. He sucked down 3 oz in 2 minutes flat... and I ended up nursing him for 20 minutes on each side right afterward. I'm not sure I got any R&R. I thought maybe giving him a bottle would be HELPFUL. Nope, it was more work than just nursing him. I am glad Parker got to help out though. I know he enjoyed those 2 minutes of unadulterated contact very much. Hey Parker,next time, how 'bout ya change his diaper, put on his pjs and THEN give him the bottle... so you can get the entire effect, will ya? ( wink) Baby steps, I s'poze. All in all I am glad we gave him the bottle. Now we know that if there is an emergency and I can't nurse him, he will do just fine. I am finding it very hard to believe that almost 7 weeks has passed. I can remember being checked into the hospital all pregnant and swollen and scared. I never knew how hard it would be to look back on those days. It's funny how I miss them, eventhough they were hard. Gus seems so big to me now. He is smiling when I kiss his face, and cooing at me when I talk to him. He eats with a vengence and when he sleeps, he looks so peaceful and right. Gus does what Gus wants. Isn't that how it should be? Shouldn't we all be as lucky as babies? I am so proud of my babies for all that they have done and are doing. ( Millie has figured out all of her green sounds in her moveable alphabet, and mastered the binomial cube. ( Montessori speak...and something a mommy should be very proud of) & Holden is sounding out words on sight. It gives me chills to think about all that they have accomplished. )We are so lucky. I am looking forward to days where we sit at the dinner table as a big family and laugh and cry together. For now, I'm gonna go watch my baby boy sleep. I won't get today back, I better enjoy it while I can.

huh? I can't hear you...

I have a baby screaming in my ear! So it seems that my Gentle Gus... has turned a corner into what my sister calls the "crying peak." I guess he's allowed to air his grievences... but does he have to do so with such "GUSto?" ( thanks for that one Cara) The poor wee man is hoarse from screaming his lil' head off. I remember the days of quiet drunk baby milk smiles, and cooing at the ceiling. Now it's WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH BAAA ( deep breath) BAAAAAAAA.. WAHHHHHH ( pant pant pant) (deep breath.. sigh) & that's just what I'm saying! ( okay I'm only saying that sometimes) I have 3 theories on this development: 1) Gus hates to have a dirty or wet diaper. He squeals the second he does either. 2) He's going through a massive growth spurt. 3) I ate onions for the first time since he was born. I forgot all about how gassy onions can make ya. I'm sure the pepperoni I ate on Saturday didn't help either. Note to self: you're not just eating for you these days... be nice to the baby's digestive track. The only thing that makes Gus settle down is : nursing. Hence I have a catfish suckled to my chest pretty much all frikkin' day long. ( remember before Gus was born .. I had nightmares about me delivering a baby that looked like a catfish.. well, it must have been a sign) It's fine... but can a girl get a break? I didn't get into the fact that I had a little trouble with my nip last week. Seems that when Gus was learning that tricky latch back when he was first born.. a small tear developed along the ol' nip. Well, time and diabetes don't help this kind of wound.. so I had to go see Dr. R. ( per advice of my Lactation consultant) I was so embarassed! I had to actually show Dr R my BOOB! He said he could handle it. :) I told him that he HAD to erase the image from his brains forever. He laughed. He's so patient with me. For now I have to wear this nip shield. ( to keep the good girl dry) Very attractive lemme tell ya. The other thing we have decided to do is give Gus one bottle a day. Parker has mentioned that he feels a little left out when it comes to Gus. I understand.. adn frankly I could use a little R&R in the evenings. As much as it pains me to do it ( because I love to watch Gus nurse) I can part with his little mouth so the dad can have some fun too. I mean I feed him 12-13 times a day these days.. I can break away just once a day, right? Someone tell me this is okay!( the PPD makes my guilt o'meter go berzerker!) Okay.. I am off to actually get something accomplished today. Today's goal: write 3 thank you notes and address them. I'm 6 weeks behind.. and I have about 50 to write. Here's my first attempt at following through on my new year's resolution. Let's see how it goes.

Who's down with PPD??? Yeah~ you know me

Welp... I think it happened. The uncontrollable crying... excessive worry... fear... and laughter.. inability to eat... all rolled up into one. I am either in the beginning of PPD or I am certifiably nuts. Today is looking a little better than yesterday... but it's only 8:30 am anything could happen. I don't want to come off as someone who is complaining about life with a newborn... or being overwhelmed by my growing number of responsibilities. It's a little bit more than that. As I have been bawling my eyes out riddled with fear and loathing... there is no real reason for me to be sad. The weird thing is: As I am crying.. I am thinking about how lucky I am... how much I love my baby, my kids... my husband... the fact that I have seemingly everything I have ever wanted... especially the fact that my dream of carrying a baby came true... but yet: waterworks. I wasn't going to write about this. I was going to keep it to myself. I mean why would I want my family and friends... and those lurkers to know this utterly personal situation I am in right now? Why would I want to let on that not all is well in my world? But I gotta tell ya, I just feel that honesty is the best policy... and I know I'm not the only one out there struggling with this. This is part of the " dream come true " package I WANTED. I WANTED to be pregnant... and such is life post pregnancy I s'poze. Some of us get this... some of us don't. I will tell you : my dreams of having 4 kids are not quite as strong these days. Let's see how I feel in 4 years or so. :) Maybe I'll forget... maybe I won't. Only time will tell. As for now I will push on through each day knowing that I'm not really insane... that it is hornmones making me crazy... and hopefully I will be able to kick this PPD in the ass and stop all this crying about nothing... sooner rather than later. If anyone has any pointers out there. Please don't keep them to yourself. Help a hormonal girl out!

That's a 10-4 good buddy

10 pounds 4 ounces to be exact. Yepper our "Wee Angus" has morphed into " Humun-Gus." It's no wonder, that kid is on the boob almost every 2 hours. I'm glad it's paying off.. I'm feeling a little like a "noonie" these days. Which segways me right into: noonie or not to noonie?This child obviously needs to suck on something. I'm guessing it's going to be his thumb ( he keeps trying to get his thumb in his mouth, but really only succeeds in punching himself in the eye over and over again... and getting more frustrated) I can't be sure if Gus really needs to eat every hour and a half.. or if I am fulfilling his needs to suck to soothe himself. Now, I'm not opposed to this, don't get me wrong. The idea of pacifying him with a rubber nipple makes me a little squeamish. Remember that it took me 2 years to help MS & HIP kick their habit. Yet: when I idealized the fact that I would be Gus' natural pacifier... I forgot to factor in those hours between dinner and bedtime that are ever so important to MS & HIP. Those hours (shut up.. it takes us a few hours to get MS & HIP all settled down to sleep at night. Hey, it's fun having a twin to tear it up and play until you literally fall asleep) have been the hours of attention they have always gotten that I believe actually meant something to each of them. They get to pick their own stories... not share which bed they sleep in and snuggle the mama. I value that time as wwell obviously. Now they have a baby brother who seems to want to play " howler monkey" from about 7- 11pm. Don't go thinkin' that Gus is screaming constantly for 4 hours... it's just that that's when he awake.. and he seems to fuss when I try to get everything all quiet. It really isn't helping the nighttime routine. I know that I will get better at the nursing and scheduling, but it has been noticeably hard on the 2 older peeps. Our pediatrian is "pro- pacifier." He says that thumb sucking is so hard to break. I'm gonna have to agree with him there. Once MS & HIP decided that they were ready to give up their noonies, they did it, and they never looked back. I will shamelessly admit that I have indeed put a noonie is Gus' mouth, but only when he was content. I haven't popped the ol' rubber neeple ( a la Ren and Stimpy) in there when he's screaming. Here's what I have noticed: he doesn't really like the noonie... but sucks on it nevertheless. He LOVES his thumb.. but it takes a half an hour to get his hand relaxed enough to actually get his thumb in there... which makes him MAD. His soothing technique of choice: my boob. This is fine during the day.. but I'm starting to wonder if I'm establishing a bad habit here. I feel awful for Millie and Holden. Millie said to me the other night, " Mom, if you finish feeding Gus soon, can you come back and snuggle us?" ( as she sat in her little bed with the light of the nightlight lighting up her long hair.) My heart broke, because I knew there wasn't a chance in hell I was going to be back when they were still awake. Sigh. I am in quite a pickle here. Does anyone have any suggestions?

Flyin' Solo

Today was THE day. The day I do this mother of 3 thing without any help. I was awakened by the most effective alarm clock known to man: a whiney baby. Time check~ 5:45 am. Good. I changed Angus' diaper and fed him. He ate for about 30 minutes. Perfect. I hopped in the shower. All clean. Angus laid on a pillow on the floor of the bathroom swatting at who knows what and kicking his feet furiously while I dried off and got ready for the day. Gus must have noticed that I was getting comfortable, so he started to cry. Knowing I had plenty of time, I popped him back on the boob and enjoyed watching him drink with his eyes fixated on mine. He ate for another 20 minutes. Okay still good... I had plenty of time. I have to leave the house w/ 3 kids who have been changed and fed on all different levels by 8:45 to make "carpool" at the kids' school. Time check: 7 am. Okay still plenty of time. I tried to apply a layer of make up to my tired face, only to have the baby's hysterical crying as my morning theme music. ( man is it hard to sing along with that... but I am starting to learn the words) Hubby asks ( from under the covers while hitting the snooze button for the 100th time,) " why is he crying?" I glare at him in disgust and say , " I dunno." Hubby responds, " did you feed him?" I raise my left eyebrow wayyyy above my bangs... and swear to myself not to kill him. I finish up and go to the big kids' room and start the morning countdown. Both kids seem to almost listen to me. A seemingly overfed and relfuxy baby hurls on my black shirt. I wipe it off and continue on...I get the two version 1.0 out of bed... and downstairs for breakfast. I accidentally dripped syrup on Gus' head.. but he didn't seem to mind. I guess he figured that he has thrown up on me about 300 times since Sunday... he owes me one. Amazingly I got all 3 kids and myself out the door by 8:50. Not bad. Not bad at'tall. Drop off went smoothly at the kids' school. I drove into the city. I had an appointment with a graphic designer to help with the design of Angus' birth announcement. I arrived 30 minutes early... perfect to sneak in that mid morning feed. Angus ate... and I popped him into the pouch. He was fast asleep.Two thumbs up. I told a woman that I was there to meet with one of the designers. I was informed that she was "running late." An hour later...I was told, " ya know, she's not a morning person." I thought to myself..."I'm no morning person... but I've been up since 5:45... what's her excuse?" grr. I left. Gus barfed on me. I wiped it off. So far the day had been fine... but that annoyed me. Gus and I went home together.We spent some time just staring at each other. I told him that he was my dream come true. He barfed on my mouth after I kissed him. Now that's love! I picked up MS & HIP at 3 o'clock and drove home. I was so proud. I didn't mess up! 2 minutes after we walked in the door, HIP locked the bathroom door and shut it so MS couldn't get in.A skuffle ensued. I kindly broke it up... and HIP apologized. ( The bathroom is still locked.I'm not quite sure how we're going to unlock it.) Afterwhile I decided to check my e-mail. A few minutes later, MS walks into the office holding Angus.( she had taken him out of his carseat) I quickly put my hand over my mouth so I didn't squeal and scare the bejesus out of her. She said, " I only hit his head one time on the floor." She was so proud. I was proud too. This day could have been a lot worse. I loved every minute of it. Let's see how we do tomorrow.

Master of the Random thought

Holden has always had this ability to perplex us with some of the things he says. Back in the day, when the kids were about 2 years old we had quite a time getting them into bed one night when we were at the beach. Holden screamed his head off for hours no matter what we did. I laid in bed with him, rubbed his back, patted his bottom, sang to him, rocked him, swayed him with no avail. Parker and I took shifts... and nothing seemed to work. At about 2 am I gave up. I was willing to let him run willie nillie around the house until he passed out. Parker is more careful than I so he took him into the bedroom and sat in the dark with him. After HOURS of screaming, there was silence. I walked into the room very quietly and Parker was smiling. I said, "uh, what's going on?" Parker responded, " Holden just said, ' Dad, I like olives.' and he went to sleep." See what I mean? Random thought. Well, tonight as we sat at the dinner table, Holden commented on how Ruby is lonely. Holden said, " Ruby needs a friend that's made out of dog." Another Holdenism: while looking down my dad's throat with a flashlight... he said, " Pop Pop, lemme look down your drain." See what I mean? He has such a way with words. I hope he never loses that. It's hilarious.

kinda sad

I can't tell if the ol' hormones are kickin' back in, or if yesterday was just kinda sad all around. Let me start at the beginning. I had an appointment with my dietician at Dr. R's office yesterday. (Remember~ these are the people I saw every 7 days for 17 weeks) I was prepared to go in and see everyone; especially my friend who works in the lab... remember she taught me the word "ticklebits?" When I walked in, the first few people we saw were so excited to see me and meet Gus. It was a warm feeling. Strangely enough, I was glad to be at my doctor's office. Sometimes I am weird... but that's not the point. I was glad to be in a familiar place. This all came to a screetching hault when I found out that my friend from the lab stopped working at the office. "Wh-wh-wh-where'd she go???" Sniff. I asked... "why did she leave??" ( loaded with panic and disappointment) I was told in a very hushed voice... " we had to make some cuts... we're all pretty sad about the changes." ( I was on the verge of crying) I REALLY wanted my friend to meet Gus! I REALLY wanted her to hold him so I could take her picture. I KNOW these things happen... but I'm not good at dealing with change. Off to a meeting at the kids' school. There have been some changes made to some things at school that have caused a few eyebrows to furrow and a lot of questions to be asked. Basically the parents staged a revolt and stormed the castle. I stood in the back of the room, and didn't get the entire story because people kept making a fuss over Gus.. which was nice... but I couldn't pay attention to the various points being made. I will say : (oh, I FYI.. I was sorta hired as the " art teacher" last year for the kids' school. Given my CRAZY doctor's appointment schedule for the last 2 trimesters.. I was only able to carry out one real project... but had planned on returning this spring to fulfill the "art teacher role.") I shook a little because The first thing addressed were the " specialists" at the school ( ie: art teacher... and the like) Of course the woman running the show starts out by saying" The art teacher hasn't been here because she, uh, well because of her new baby.... bla bla bla..." She then went on to explain that most of the speicalists have small children etc... and the schedules have been a little relaxed due to family commitments. She mentioned that one of the specialists didn't have kids and tried to make thing lighter by saying " She doesn't have kids... thank goodness!"( laughing under her breath with a sigh of relief...) OH NO YOU DID NOT JUST SAY THAT. Now I know she was under fire... and I know she thought she was funny... but that statement felt like she was running a business... not a loving school environment.Anyways she segway'd right into one very important person... in the community... who just had a babe... who informed the community yesterday that she isn't coming back in the fall. My heart dropped. I just hept hearing " she won't be returning in the fall and we are working on finding a replacement. " ( Hey important person in the community... I know you read my blog... so I sincerely want to add: I am thrilled for you that you will able to stay at home and get to experience the little one. I couldn't be happier for you. I'm just sad for us. You understand, right? Please say you do.)I'd say that ( what I got from the meeting.. it wa a little hard w/ people fussing over Gus) things were discussed, and the changes being made in the school were explained. So in less than 3 hours 2 major changes were made. These changes aren't extreme... they're just changes.. and when you're overtired.. change is hard. I had my good boy Gus with me all day. He was a real trooper. It seems that he has his first cold. Poor lil' man. I'm taking him to the pediatrician today because his little cough sounds a little scary to me... it's just a little too chesty for me to ignore. Given that MS & HIP had bronchitis last week and were licking his little face every chance they got, and Parker has" the sickness" it doesn't surprise me. I am so sad for baby Gus ( yes I'm sad for the rest of my family as well... it's just that this is Gus' FIRST cold.) I really thought we could wait longer than a month to get our first cold. NOT FAIR! Gus slept on my chest last night all night. I was terrified to put him down. He is so snotty and goopy... and he coughs a lot. I just wanted him near me. Plus there's nothin' better than a snuggly baby to help soothe that awful anxiety attack. Ch-CH-Ch-Changes.......

Torpedos

Back in the day(high school to be exact) my group of friends, lovingly called: The Beverlys... or "The Bevs" for short, had a breast sizing system. The sizes ranged from :"torpedo tits" all the way down to "gun powder". "Bullets" and "bee bees" ( or however you spell it) were the mid range and smaller size. I had : torpedo tits. When I was in high school, I was well, let's just say bigger than I am today. It wasn't a big deal really, I was just 5' tall... and weighed well over 150 lbs. It was the beginning of my kidney disease... where I retained every ounce of fluid I ate or drank all over my entire body. I wasn't flabby or out of shape... quite the opposite... I was just that one portly girl on the lacrosse team and tennis team that everyone loved. I was happy... and perky... and when I say perky, I mean all over. My "torpedos" rested somewhere in my neck. The girls hadn't dropped. The rack stood pround and strong, and BIG. After I got my diabetes in better control... and was put on a slew of diaretics and ace inhibitors... I lost the weight, and and my D sized lovelies shrunk to a big A or a small B. I saw them as manageable... and much sexier than the huge tracks of land I had in the past. When I got pregnant I knew something was up. The thing that was up was the size of my boobs. I swelled up to a 40 D. After Angus was born I spent the first few weeks being engorged... and trying to figure out breast feeding and the like. I noticed that the nursing bras I bought for the ol' hospital bag were a tad snug. I went to Motherhood Maternity today to actually buy some nursing shirts and some new bras. I am not.. shall we say, uh~ discreet when it comes to nursing... maybe a few new bras and a coupla shirts actually designed for breastfeeding would help a shy girl out. The lady who worked in the store asked me if I needed to get measured. I gladly accepted her offer. She said " you should be wearing a 36 E." WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA? D-d-d-did she just say the letter E?! Good-NESS! I never thought I'd ever go that large! I'm almost as big as my Dolly!( back when she was in middle school ;) ) The great news is that I obviously was put on this Earth to nurse a baby with these things. Boobs... not just for holding up bikini tops anymore.