beanski

high five, cuz

I was just deleting the thousands of pictures that didn't turn out and I came across pictures of Christmas with Ski's side of the family that we celebrated in between Renee having the flu and Renee having the Cold of the Century. I sort of spaced on Christmas which is odd because she's is OBSESSED with some of the toys she got. Namely, the Tupperware (real mini Tupperware...too cute), Freddie and Katie and their hippie camper, her new kitchen and last but not least, her tea set. Tea parties are going down around here every hour on the hour in case you're interested.

High Five, Cuz. Elliott and Renee giving high fives during snack time. I love how they start the high five smiling and then their faces get serious like they are really concentrating on nailing it.


Some gift opening...by the time we celebrated in mid-January The Goose and Elliott were master gift openers. Renee? She still made us do it for her. 'Daddy DO, Daddy DO!'


Lucy is into accessories. Hats, hair ties, tool belts, you name it. My kid, she rips off everything article of clothing including her pants anytime we leave the house but The Goose is cool to just roll through Christmas in a hilarious hat and adorable red Mary Janes.

Renee checking her out...seeing Lucy do it did NOT make Renee want to do it. Just in case you were wondering.

Dear Uncle Colin and Aunt Brooke...the bus book? Let's just say you hit the nail on the head. So thank you, she LOVES it. And also, I hate you because she could push that button no fewer than a thousand times in one sitting. She runs round the house saying BUS! all day.

And finally, my girl's first (and possibly last) ponytail. She let me do it once that day and now she refuses to let me get anywhere close to her hair...LITTLE DEVIL.

nineteen months

Renee spent approximately 15 of the 31 days that made up this torturous month sick with some sort of ailment. She had the flu for the first ten days, pooping like a trooper every 30 seconds and crying incessantly about her diaper rash. She threw up any food she tried to eat and refused to drink anything except milk. Go ahead, you try to convince an 18 month old that clear liquids are a better choice for her upset belly. She lost a bunch of weight and it hurt my heart to look at her. We had her 18 month well busy visit and she weighed in at 21 pounds 15 ounces...less than she weighed at 15 months. She adamantly refused to be measured for height so that will likely remain a mystery indefinitely. S-P-I-R-I-T-E-D.

Then, she got better and was healthy long enough to pop out six teeth, four of which were molars, open some kick ass Christmas presents at Nena and Grumpa's and then she caught a cold. The mother of all colds. She was up all night, coughing like she smokes a pack a day and the volumes of snot that were pouring out of her nose was astonishing. For all intensive purposes I sort of feel like I should get a do-over for this entire month. An entire month of my 12 weeks off to spend with the kids and she was sick all.fricking.month.

On a bright note, the Steelers are going to the Superbowl! She finds and spikes the football any time she sees football on TV. I can't give her credit for the idea, however, I'm fairly confident that it took a bit of coaching from her dad.
 
If I had a quarter for every minute I have spent trying to talk her into wearing pants or socks, I would be a rich, rich woman. She points at her pants the second we finally get them on her and demands 'OFF.' She is completely obsessed with turning things on and off and instantly looks for the on/off switch the minute she touches anything. Once she locates that, she starts looking for the batteries. I love how she says batteries. ba-DEES.

I love how she stands at my feet when she wants to be picked up, stomps her right foot and demands 'Mommy UP.' It's the way she says it and the look on her face that I love so much. She may as well put her little hands on her hips and stick her little lip out. I assume that is the next step. For now, we laugh at the stomp.

Her love affair with the kitties has been rekindled. She stalks them trying to play with them via their toys and not-so-gently petting them. She calls them both Yadi which we think stems from Sashi which is our nickname for our cat, Sasha. There is no distinction though, they are both Yadi. She says it so regularly that Ski and I have started calling them Yadi. I just love how she says 'Hi Yadi' or 'Bye Kitties' when she's coming or going.

She goes straight for Cam's bouncy seat when it's vacant which isn't often and she sits in and it and looks at me like 'What are you going to do about it, lady?' When I ask her who that seat belongs to she says 'Baby' and doesn't move an inch. I think she's daring me to kick her out. She finds her baby and bottle and feeds her baby while I feed Cam. She snatches his Soothies and bolts any time I happen to set one down. She's asserting her dominance left and right. For a while it made me mad but now it makes me laugh.

We are doing Aqua Tots at the Y with her friend Max and I love how she gets all pumped up getting her suit on and says 'Hi Max' over and over and over until we get there and then she clams up like she's too nervous to actually talk to him. I think she has her first crush.

She repeats EVERYTHING we say and is stringing words together in sentences. She can identify about half of the letters in the alphabet via her alphabet puzzle or her name on the wall of her bedroom. Last night when she was coming in to say goodnight to Cameron and I, she looked up at his name on the wall out of the blue, pointed at it and said 'e'. And then she pointed out the 'n'. Then she said 'Bye' all as a matter of factly and headed off with dad to bed. To think she used to cry when I left. Now I get a 'BYE' like it ain't no thing but a chicken wing. I guess this is a good development but there are days when it makes my heart hurt. My baby, my big girl, I can feel her growing up and moving away from me. I tell her every day on our way home from daycare that she has two choices of colleges; the two that are within 5 miles of our house. I just hope if I say it enough times she'll remember :)

looking back it hasn't been all bad

I go back to work in seven days. I'm totally dreading it. Which is odd because for about the middle five weeks of this maternity leave I think I told Ski about fifteen times a day that I wanted to go back to work already. The first five weeks of this leave were devoted to the God forsaken holidays, the middle five to various illnesses and it has only been the last two that I've actually gotten a chance to enjoy my kids. I have baked cupcakes and played playdoh and done puzzles and spent hours and hours just sitting on the couch staring at his chubby little legs and going to any great length to see him smile.

I'm going to miss my babies.

I am going to miss making her lunch with one hand because I'm nursing her brother with the other.

I am going to miss being the sole recipient of his smiles.

I am going to miss putting her down for a nap while praying to God that he isn't downstairs screaming his head off.

I am going to miss being his everything, his entire universe, his one and only.

I am going to miss Diego. And maybe even Laurie Berkner.

I am going to miss going to Target even though I don't need anything because Target is the only place that I can get in and out of with both kids and we all need a good distraction.

I am going to miss watching her learn at least a handful of new words every day. 

I am going to miss watching him learn all of the things that he has yet to learn, to hold his head up, to sit, to crawl, to walk.

I am going to miss watching her play with her baby for hours on end. 

I am going to miss waiting for the mail to arrive just because it gives me something to look forward to.

I am going to miss snuggling with her after she wakes up for her nap because that is the one time of day that she wants to cuddle.

I think I might even miss her standing at the window saying 'Daddy HOME.'

What I'm going to miss the most is not missing anything. Not being there for each and every second of their days. I thought this would be easier this time, leaving them, giving up control and putting my faith in their daytime caregiver. But I don't think it is going to be easier. I miss them already and I'm not even gone yet. Being a working mom is not easy. It never gets easy...easier maybe as time goes on but never easy.

the (unexpected) part about blogging

First, I want to say thank-you to those that commented on my downer of a post a couple of days ago or reached out in other ways, a phone call, an email, anything to say "Hey, I've been there. Hang in there."

Misery loves company and hearing that I am not the only one, that I am not a total freak, helped immensely. Whether you are another blogger, a sister, an old friend, thanks.

I guess that's why I posted it. I needed help. I couldn't expect my husband to be the sole bearer of my cross anymore. I needed someone else to know what I was going through, someone else to lend an ear or a kind word. Because I could see it weighing on him and I could feel it weighing on our marriage.  

I started blogging almost two years ago with one purpose in mind: To preserve my feelings and thoughts on being pregnant and becoming a mom for my children to look back on someday. That's it. I actually remember being annoyed by other bloggers at the time who were all about 'selling their blogs and building a readership' because that really wasn't my purpose. If they didn't like reading my monthly posts about my kids, they could go read something else.

But, then my kids were born and the nature of having small children is alienating. You lose touch. There isn't enough time to keep up with everyone you've ever met no matter how bad you want to. The children go to bed at 8PM and if the party doesn't start until 7:30PM, we probably aren't going to make it. If the friendships of the past aren't strong enough to be held together with a phone call here and there or a once a month email, the friendship dies. It's not anyone's fault...it is just the way it is. And the loneliness sets in. Or at least it did for me.

But, there were these other bloggers with children the same age as my mine. Or people who remember what it felt like to have a newborn and know what it feels like to have an eighteen month old. And they reached out to me. They sent kind words and offered to go out for a drink with me or they emailed to see if I wanted to get out of the house to go to the museum. And there were plenty of others who I can't link to because they don't have blogs or I am running out of space. They offered an escape with no strings attatched. Where people that I have known my entire life may not know the words to say to make me feel better, complete strangers reached out. 

And I realized the impact that blogging has had on me. I realized the power in numbers. I realized that reading your blogs and getting to know your children has made me feel less alone, like my child is not the only one throwing tantrums every fifteen seconds. I realized that kind words from a stranger can have the same effect, or sometimes even greater effect, than kind words from a friend.

For what you did for me and my children earlier this week, thanks. If I didn't respond, know that I read every word. And I appreciated every single word. And know that today is a much sunnier day than last Friday because of you.

we make cute kids

I'm a million days behind in documenting things like Christmas. I've been busy. I've been busy cleaning poop and barf and snotty noses and moping around feeling sorry for myself. And then I got some new Photoshop actions and I wanted to re-edit all of the pictures I had done. And today I'm saying screw it and posting what I have. Because the kids are damn cute and they make me smile and honestly life would be drab and boring and really fricking quiet without them.

Miss Sarah from her visit to Duluth. One with turkey and one without. I like the turkey.
 
  
And one of Charlie. He is hard to photograph these days because he blatantly ignores me when I try to talk to him. Except for this time with the Santa hat in front of the Christmas tree. 
  

We had Christmas eve with just my parents and then the rest of the crew came on Christmas day for the most chaotic gift opening you have ever seen. Little Miss Sensitive (aka Renee) was her usual sunshiney self so I didn't get many pictures of the chaos. But I did get a few pictures of my kids with my parents. And we did family pictures again. And guess who flipped out about it again? Hi-lar-i-ous. I'll try to find the time to post the sequence of Ski dropping Renee in there behind my parents to get this picture because she LOST it. You would think she would have gotten over that since last year but apparently not. I guess there's always next year.
 
Annie and her boys. Griff wasn't all that interested in looking at the camera. I think he thinks we are all insane.
  
Jen and her fam. CUTE.
  
And last but not least, the whole gang. HAHAHAHAHAHA. It just never gets old. I could look at this picture all day long and never get tired of it. I love that Renee is glaring at the tripod and that Griffin looks confused like he can't even believe it and that Sarah is all like SCREW THIS I'm outta here. What are you people smiling at?
  
Rama and Cam...it has a nice ring, don't you think?
 
Renee and her dad. She is sticking the string from his sweatshirt up her nose. She is obsessed with putting things in her nose and sticks her finger up our noses when we are trying to get her settled down for a nap. And then she giggles. She also laughs when we fart. We are clearly great role models.
  
The one where I tried to make her sit with Papa for a picture. Clearly a very dramatic experience. I will hold these pictures against her until the day I die. I'll be all like DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU PUT ME THROUGH? And you wonder why I'm crazy.
  
 
  
Sarah and Renee. My favorite part of this picture is that they are both carrying around their blankies. Their green blankies.

Carl and his kids. OH BOY does Sarah look like her dad or what?

  
Little Sam who apparently went and got big while I was busy being enormously pregnant and dealing with newborn. CUTE. He looks like Griff.
  
Griffin with his big semi truck that hauls matchbox cars. The boys LOVED them. Griff also loved his apron and insisted on wearing it all day which made us all laugh.
  
The boys at the bar laughing over a glass of milk. We don't know what they were laughing at but OH BOY they are cute.
  
Charlie holding Sam. Charlie loves babies.
  
One with Sam and Rama. Also a nice ring. I went for six months of being pregnant knowing what we would probably name the baby if he was a boy without once thinking about the whole 'Sam and Cam' thing. It makes us all laugh now. 
  
Charlie showing off his brown eyes that match his mommy's.
  
Annie with her boy. This one screams MOM to me...it is just how my babies burrow their heads into my chest when I pick them up. There is nothing like it.
  
Sam with Dad. He looks like dad, huh?
  
My parents got a room at the local hotel so that the kids could go swimming the day after Christmas. It was a huge hit. We used to play broomball but with six kids under 3.5 it just doesn't work. Until they get big and toughen up a bit we decided we'll go swimming instead :)

  
  
Cameron slept in his carseat the entire time with this look on his face that clearly said, "Could you people please quiet down already?"

I have more pictures that I sort of want to post but I'll email them instead. This post was a bit of a picture overload. And I still haven't figured out the whole typepad picture problem because these pictures all look different in Photoshop. Do any of you typepad users have any suggestions?

are you ready for some football?

Getting ready for the big game. Renee REFUSED to put on the Steeler jersey until Daddy showed her that he had a matching one and that both had a lucky number seven on them. Cameron would watch TV all day...the magic box has magical powers. Also: don't mind my daughter and the fact that she adamantly refuses to wear pants. GO STEELERS!
 
  
  
  

it took sixty-six days to go insane

I became a mother of two sixty-six days ago. It feels like an entire lifetime. I've had countless people ask me how it is going and I can't help but wonder when they ask if they want the truth. Or if they want the dumbed down, made-for-TV version. Would they rather I sugar coat it or would they rather I tell it like it is? Because if they ask and I tell them that I want to drive my car off the bridge, they don't usually ask again. And they generally quit calling. And the alienation of a mother on the verge of her sanity becomes more prevalent.

So tell me: If you asked, would you want the truth? Or would you want me to say that things are going swimmingly and that going from one kid to two kids isn't hard at all?

I'm a tell it like it is person. When things suck, I say it. I can totally identify with dooce calling her book about becoming a first-time mom 'It Sucked and Then I Cried: How I Had a Baby, a Breakdown, and a Much Needed Margarita.' Because if I were to write a book about the last sixty-six days I think I would probably call it something like 'I Simultaneously Fell In Love and Lost My Mind: How I Went From One Kid to Two.'

If I could go back to that fateful night that Cameron became more than a bunch of cells and change the outcome, would I? Absolutely not.

But the last sixty-six days have been anything but easy. And yes, I think the post-partum depression or whatever you want to call it that I had after Renee was born is back with a vengeance. It isn't easy for me to admit that. I have considered medication. I have considered counseling. I have considered the winter, the holidays, two weeks of the flu and the cold virus that is currently making it's way through my family. I have considered that my baby can't go more than an hour without me going into his room to assure him that I'm still there and that I'm running on very, very little sleep. I have considered my lack of nutrition and the fact that I'm certain I am chronically dehydrated because I don't generally have a spare hand to take a sip of water or make something healthy to eat. I have considered the breastfeeding and the (still) bleeding nipples. I have considered that we live in a town where we know hardly anyone and when I'm having a day where all I want is to get out of this fucking house for fifteen minutes, there really is no one to call and the people that I could call are at work or I haven't talked to them in months.

There are a lot of variables contributing to my sadness. A lot of variables that are different than your situation. Or your sister's situation. So maybe it has been harder on me than it might have been on you. Or maybe I'm just a bigger sissy. Or maybe you have a lot of people in your life that can lend you a helping hand. Your second baby will probably be totally different than mine so if you ask me how it's going, don't use what I say as a marker for how it will go for you. Every situation and every baby are different.

In two and a half weeks I'll be going back to work and we will start all over. I'm totally dreading it and looking forward to it at the same time. I'm hoping that getting away, being forced to take a step back will help my spirits. I'm hoping that my children will thrive with their caregiver and that I can quit feeling guilty for watching one of them cry in order for me to tend to the other one. Because I'm a perfectionist and I have a seriously hard time accepting the fact that I can't do it all. When she hasn't eaten for fifteen days in a row and is losing enough weight so that even the pediatrician is getting concerned, I can't help but feel like I'm doing something wrong. Or that it is somehow my fault that Cameron hasn't learned how to sleep even though I have followed every rule to the letter. Being a perfectionist and a mother don't mix. Unfortunately for me the problem is compounded when I'm trapped alone in this house with two sick kids in the middle of winter.

I'm hoping that a month from now, after we have made yet another huge adjustment and I'm back to having an adult conversation once a day, that I'll feel differently. Or that springtime and warmer days and being able to take a walk will lighten my spirits. And if I don't feel better, I'll try to find the time to see a counselor. Although if I can get out of here for an hour even once a month, I think the best therapy would be for me to spend some time alone in silence. But I'll do the counselor if that's what they want. If the counselor doesn't work, I'll quit nursing and get some drugs. Even though it takes an act of God for me to take any kind of drugs, I'll do it if it will make me a better mom and a better wife. And if the drugs don't help or if time hasn't gotten rid of the stupid hormones once and for all, well, I guess there's always that bridge. I'll keep you posted.

two months

Our second month together did not go as smoothly as our first. It had to happen, right? It wasn't anything to do with Cameron himself, it had more to do with his mom trying to do too much during the holidays and completely misreading his cues. I fed him when he cried, completely ignoring the fact that he had just eaten an hour ago and that my nipples were bleeding. When his poop transformed back into the green seaweed variety indicating a stomachache of some sort, I pretty much quit eating, totally convinced that it was eggs or chocolate or dairy. He cried and arched his back and I got frustrated. He quit sleeping at night, waking up every hour or two, grunting and whining and in pain so you know what I did? I fed him again. And I cried because I couldn't make it stop and because I wasn't getting any sleep. By 4AM I'd be hysterical, weeping, yelling at my husband to DO SOMETHING because I just couldn't take care of two children all day long on one hour of sleep.

Then, I woke up last Wednesday morning, got out The Baby Whisperer (Kim's copy, which I totally thought I had given back to her but had apparently not) and got serious. I had apparently forgotten everything I learned last time in a few short months. The first thing I read was that feeding a baby too often for not long enough would give him an upset belly because he's getting too much foremilk. I started feeding him every three hours, forcing the feedings to last at least twenty minutes each and within two days his poop was back to normal. The trouble was he still wasn't sleeping and I feared that I had ruined his chance for good sleeping habits for good.

On Monday morning I reopened the book looking for sleeping issues and somewhere in there it said that a baby that is overstimulated during the day and not getting good naps won't sleep a night either. And you know what? He hadn't slept during the day for more than 20 minute stretches and I was blaming the stomachache. Yesterday I went back to swaddling him for naps, putting him upstairs in his crib instead of in the swing or the Pack N Play with his loud mouth sister throwing toys on the hardwood floors next to him and he napped, for an hour and a half each time just like the book said he should. And you know what he did last night? He slept for eight hours without waking once. Sure it could be a coincidence, he could be going through a growth spurt but right now, rolling through the day on eight consecutive hours of sleep with both of my children sleeping soundly in the middle of the afternoon, I would like to find the Baby Whisperer and kiss her on the lips. With tongue.

I'm writing all of this down for anyone out there struggling, wondering what to try next. And because I've reread Renee's first and second month posts a million times trying to figure out how I got her to sleep so well and I'm sorry but the fact that she hated her first bath really didn't seem as relevant to me now as HOW IN THE HELL DID I TEACH HER TO SLEEP ON HER OWN? A lot of the tricks that are working this time, however, never worked on my Spirited Baby because she's well, spirited, and HEAVED FORBID someone try to tell her what to do.

He doesn't barf hardly ever but he makes a big hot fuss about pooping and farting. He gets this from his dad. He'll grunt and moan and arch until he poops or farts and then he'll promptly fall asleep. I'm not sure which is more annoying...Renee's barfing or Cameron's farting...I think they're tied. Why can't babies just come out with mature digestive systems? And a full mouth of teeth. That would make my life a whole lot easier.
 
He has started burrowing into my neck and inhaling my scent when I pick him up, instantly going from frantic to calm. His eyes roll back in his head when I rub his head or when I touch my lips to his soft baby head. I feel like Superwoman every time he stops crying the instant I touch him or when he's gulping so contently on the milk I work so hard to make for him.

He smiles at me every time I talk to him, a sweet little shy smile, not at all agressive and not nearly as big or dramatic as his sister's at this age. Just more of a 'Oh, you're talking to me? Thanks.' And once in a while he'll coo back and I imagine he's saying something along the lines of 'You rock my word, Mom.'
 
He likes to the watch TV these days and loves the same Tiffany lamp in the dining room that Renee had a mad love affair with. He'll sit in his Bouncy seat for long periods of time, checking out the lamps and the rivets on the couch. FASCINATING STUFF. His eyes light up and his fists start to shake with glee every time he so much as catches a glimpse of his sister or when she bends down to give him a kiss goodnight.
 
His dad wouldn't let me live it down if I didn't mention his male pattern baldness. He has lost all of his hair on the top of the head but still has his dark hair in the back. Honestly he looks like one of those men that are balding and rather than doing the sensible thing and shaving the whole head they leave the patch long in the back as though they want to prove to society that they do have SOME hair.
 
He's a big boy, growing like a madman, getting ready to bust out of 3-6 months clothes any day now. This is such a weird development for me considering she was wearing 0-3 month on her first day of daycare at three months old.

I won't lie and say he's an angel all of time, he will scream himself silly if he doesn't get what he wants. He'll get so hysterical he'll almost forget to breathe. I had to wake him from his nap yesterday to go and pick Renee up from daycare and holy hell the kid screamed so loud and was so desparate that I had to pull into a gas station and pick him up to calm him down. On our way home from Christmas in the Falls he did the same thing and the mom in me had to pull the car over and soothe him.I guess it's because Cameron doesn't really cry for the sake of crying.

The best part about these last two months of getting to know my son is to understand who he is and that my dad is right when he says the best part about having more than one kid is to understand how truly different they are. From the instant they are born, they are their own person. And my Cameron? He's a keeper.
 

101 in 1001

Sorry if you got this in draft status. M-O-R-O-N.

In honor of me being 365 days away from leaving my 20s and because currently I don't do anything except tend to two whiney kids, a list of 101 things I plan to accomplish in the next 1,001 days...so I have until October 4, 2011 to check it all off the list. A girl has to have SOMETHING to look forward to, you know. I got the idea from Kim and Jenny last year.

1. Read a non kid-related book.
2. Do something awesome and unexpected for my husband.
3. Buy a new camera body.
4. Take Renee out for a mommy and daughter day and make her feel special.
5. Take Cam out for a mommy and son day and make him feel special.
6. Go on a vacation without children.
7. Blog every day for a month.
8. Repot my indoor plants.
9. Finish Renee's first year book.
10. Make a first year book for Cameron.
11. Plan/Attend a girl's only weekend.
12. Try a new recipe.
13. Plan and host a party.
14. Build a new friendship (preferrably someone local with kids).
15. Take the kids to swim class.
16. Take the kids to Kindermusik.
17. Take an online photo class.
18. Print new photos for the landing.
19. Buy a new house or add onto this one.
20. Exercise every day for a month.
21. Hike somewhere on the North Shore that I"ve never been.
22. Spend a weekend camping on Rainy Lake.
23. Perform a random act of kindness.
24. Have a spa day.
25. Make a cookbook of my favorite recipes.
26. Go to a hockey game.
27. Build a snoman.
28. Clean out my closet and throw away all clothes that I'll never fit into again even though I hate to admit it.
29. Create a blog book for 2008.
30. Take the kids to the zoo.
31. Volunteer at a charity instead of always just sending money.
32. Treat my cats kindly every day for a month.
33. Get a canvas print made.
34. Do not use the computer for a week outside of work.
35. Redo my banner.
36. Get a safety deposit box.
37. Have a rummage sale.
38. Buy a new CD and listen to it.
39. Go to a concert.
40. Vote in an off-presidential election year.
41. Clean off old hard-drive.
42. Enter a photography contest.
43. Redo my gardens.
44. Make a quilt.
45. Catch a fish.
46. Learn 10 new photoshop tricks.
47. Pay off student loans.
48. Make bread from scratch.
49. Get a library card and take the kids there every month for a year.
50. Back-up all photos.
51. Run through a sprinkler with the kids.
52. Do something unexpected for a friend.
53. Relax and thoroughly enjoy a holiday.
54. Do something extra special for our daycare provider.
55. Photograph my parents.
56. Get a picture of my kids with each of their cousins.
57. Spend an entire day with just my mom.
58. Spend an entire day with just my dad.
59. Go on a Brewery tour.
60. Visit a winery.
61. Organize the basement.
62. Replace our washer and dryer.
63. Buy a learn to use new photoshop actions.
64. Visit a state I've never been to.
65. Visit a landmark I've never seen.
66. Reread the Harry Potter series.
67. Quit drinking Diet Coke for a month.
68. Buy new winter boots.
69. Go down a slide.
70. Craft something with the kids once a week for a month.
71. Preserve the kids handprints and footprints.
72. Wash the windows inside and out.
73. Eat sushi.
74. Try a $100+ bottle of wine.
75. Update our fireplace (bring it beyond 1982).
76. Make photo albums for my nieces and nephews.
77. Buy a nice set of lamps for the living room.
78. Organize the closets.
79. Learn how to knit.
80. Visit a museum.
81. Eat Indian food.
82. Buy a 2005 bottle of wine to drink on our 20th wedding anniversary.
83. Meet another blogger in person.
84. Replace our TV.
85. Go to the State Fair.
86. Go iceskating.
87. Shovel a neighbors driveway just because.
88. Have a BBQ.
89. Start a Master's program.
90. Watch the Twins play a road game.
91. Join a church.
92. Get my kids baptized.
93. Take a vacation in Duluth.
94. Have a bonfire.
95. Go kayaking/canoeing.
96. Do a girl's BWCA trip.
97. Comment on a new blog every day for a month.
98. Buy and use reusable grocery bags.
99. Find a suitable paper towel replacement.
100. Dryclean and preserve my wedding dress.
101. Make a video of the kids with music.

 

we've been quarantined

I feel the need to complain to someone about how bad this week sucked. I need to tell someone about my troubles in hopes that they care or maybe to remind myself in a few years when I'm thinking having another baby sounds like a good idea.

Ski came down with a stomach bug on Friday in the middle of the night and spent all of the night and the consecutive 48 hours in the bathroom. I'm not exaggerating. He was a trooper and did as much for the kids as he could but I ended up handling both of them in the middle of holiday travel. Then emptying the car by myself. Then grocery shopping with the infant. Poor me, I know.

It gets worse. Much worse.

Renee woke up in the middle of the night on Sunday night throwing up and since then, including today, she's been puking or pooping every half an hour. Count the days: FIVE DAYS OF THIS. She's skinny and tired and I feel terrible for her.

I was home alone on Wednesday with the kids and around 2PM I threw up and started feeling feverish. Then I spent the next two hours in the bathroom listening to my baby screaming and my daughter standing at the baby gate saying MAMA POOP. By the time Ski got home I was weeping, cleaning my twenty-first poopy diaper of the day (I know because they were so stinky that I had to put them in baggies to be taken out to the trash immediately). TWENTY-ONE diapers, most of which where the smelliest things you've ever come across in your life. Just thinking about the stench that is coming out of that girl makes me gag.  

Cameron didn't get the stomach bug (currently knocking on wood) but he has a cold and can't breathe very well. And he had a belly ache for two days in which he threw a hot fuss about not being able to poop. One kid was pooping every seven seconds and one kid crying because he couldn't poop. THE FRICKING IRONY.

I went to bed at 8PM on New Year's eve, freezing to death from a fever not having eaten in 12 hours. I took a drink of water before bed and spent the next hour throwing it up. I woke up today, in 2009, not having talked to a single person, not having been wished or wished another single person a Happy New Year and I spent the day moping. This is the first year that New Year's Day hasn't felt like a new beginning...like a do over. I know I'll get to see my babies grow and that makes me happy and sad at the same time. Because I'm not certain I can ever do this again. And coming to grips with that isn't easy. How can I never feel what it's like to be pregnant again? Or how can I wish away a single moment of holding my snuggly newborn baby knowing that I may well never rock another of mine to sleep again?

I do have a couple of resolutions though. A couple of things that I have been thinking about doing but haven't acted on.
1. Waste less. Waste less food, less water, less paper towels, less everything.
2. Be a better mom and wife. Figure out the meaning of the word patience.
3. It wouldn't be a New Year's if I didn't vow to lose some pounds. This year I'm hoping for 15. Better to start big, I figure.

What are your resolutions or don't you believe in them? Or tell me about a time when you were up to eyelids in puke/poop because I'm having one of those days where I feel like my situation sucks worse than anyone else's ever has and I know that somewhere someone has it worse.