Powder Coat

Gretel got into the baby powder the other day.

That is all.

(If you need more, you can click here to SEE the results of said ecapades.)

Parenting Tip: Mind Your KEYS and Q's

(*Updated to add photo below.)

Never leave your car keys in the ignition, even if you are parked in a friend's driveway;

But... if you DO leave your keys in the ignition while parked in a friend's driveway, NEVER let your toddler escape from your clutches and jump into the DRIVER'S SEAT while you are rushing to get home because HOLY FUCKITY FUCK your brother's school bus is coming in LESS THAN an hour and we are at least 40 minutes away from home!!!!!;

But... if your toddler DOES escape from your clutches while the keys are in your car's ignition, ALWAYS make sure your car doors are UNlocked before you retrieve the little shit button-pushing-escape-artist and strap her back into her car seat and then CLOSE.THE.DOOR thereby LOCKING said toddler in your car;

(BONUS PARENTHETICAL TIP: It would also be helpful if you plot the sun's path ahead of time so you can make sure your car is NOT parked in the BLAZING SUN in off chance that you DO to lock your toddler in your car with the keys in the ignition 45 minutes before you are supposed to be home for the school bus;)

And... if you DO lock your toddler in the car (in the BLAZING SUN) with the keys in the ignition, do not ALSO lock your cell phone in with her because you will need it to make frantic phone calls to ALL of your neighbors as you desperately try to find someone to retrieve your kindergartener off the school bus;

AND... if you DO lock your toddler AND your cell phone in your car, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY do NOT lock your camera in with them because teh internetz will need pictures to go along with your blog post!!;

AND!!!!... if you DO lock your toddler and cell phone and camera in your car remember to be gracious and thank the nice police officers who were subjected to the repeated phone calls from your panicked BFF pleading that they "PLEAAAASSEEE HURRY UP IT'S HOT IN THE CAR!!!!!";

(Even if they DID drive right past her block with their lights and sirens blaring as if to torment you just a *little* bit longer for being such a moron as to lock your toddler in your car with the keys in the ignition;)

(And ESPECIALLY EVEN if one of them flashes you a look of condescension that spoke volumes as to what he really thought of your stellar parenting skillz.)

Thank you officers. 

My sweaty, heat-flushed toddler thanks you.

I was locked in my Mom's car and all she got was this stupid AFTER-photo.

Too Many Reps to Count

In the past week, I have been asked by two different doctors if I worked out.
Apparently lifting and constantly carrying a needy toddler tones one's pectoral and shoulder muscles.

Now if I can only learn to walk on my hands and carry her with my ass.

Who Needs a Hot Water Bottle?

When you have a feverish toddler to keep you warm!

If she wasn't in bed WITH me, she was ON me.

All. Day.

For TWO days.

She's better today. No fever but you can hear the "stuff" taking up residence in her nose. I better stock up on tissues with lotion.

Why I Support Breastfeeding

[edited to add sappy photo & note.]

- CLEAVAGE!

- Shirts for me like "Nip/Suck" and "I make breastmilk. What's your Superpower?"

- Knowing that if someone yelled out "NICE RACK" they, for once, meant it.

- Shirts for Gretel like "I'm No Weaner" and "Mother Sucker."

- And if someone did yell out "NICE RACK" finally being able to respond with "Thank you, I grew them myself!"

- While I can no longer fill my nursing bras (yes it is mostly about the boobs for me wannamakesumthinofit?) I can STILL spill out of a padded push-up stuffed-with-tube-socks training regular bra.

(But this is only at night now and only if I have not nursed Her throughout the day and stored up enough of my stuff so I can resemble something like looks almost like a girl and less like a pre-pubescent boy with freakishly large nipples.)

But perhaps the number one reason is sharing the one thing that only She and I have shared from the start. Sitting in her room, skin-to-skin, her hands gently petting the skin of my stomach. Skin once stretched to its limit that is now so soft and pillowy that she takes every opportunity to lift my shirt just enough so she can steal a snuggle. For those few moments, we are both brought back to Day One. The day I became Her Mother. And the day she became My Daughter.

(*Since this post, Gretel is now weaned. It's a bittersweet milestone but one that we were both ready to happen. The tummy snuggles continue and I'm happy to oblige for I get as much of the comforting benefits from the skin-to-skin contact as she does.)

2 Firsts for Gretel

Her first lollipop.
Followed by her first urinary catheterization.
Boy is she strong!
"Yeah, thanks doc. Can we move this along please? I have a big toe IN MY EYE!"
Oops.
"Umm, doc? That is NOT something I particularly want to hear when you are sticking a tube into my daughter's vajayjay."
***
Tests came back negative. No UTI. No diabetes.
Cause of stinky urine and pirate breath. Unknown.

Nip/Suck

*pick, pick, pick*

*pinch, pinch, pinch*

*pull, pull, pull*

Lately nursing has had a high suckage factor.
And not in the way all those LLL pamphlets told me about.
It's appeal has gone downhill now that the person who is doing the sucking is a T.O.D.D.L.E.R. who has sprouted octopus arms almost overnight and who seeks to entertain herself with whatever part of MY BODY that is within arms length while nursing. This includes, but is not limited to:
- finding and picking at the tiniest of moles, or the one in between where I should have cleavage which actually may really be a third nipple;
- pulling at my hair or BETTER YET! my collar bone which creeps me out b/c bones.should.not.be.pulled.or.yanked. EVER.;
- pinching my other nip but not before she gives the whole package a gentle s-q-u-e-e-z-e and a little pat as if she thinks it's lonely which... really... it's not.
She's strong.
She's stubborn.
And just as I think I am winning the battle she throws in a foot, usually to my jaw, which distracts me enough to leave her target of choice all exposed and vulnerable.
::sigh::
And still. I wouldn't give up moments like these for anything...

'Tis a Blessing

To be a toddler ...

... with enough flexibility to smell one's own feet.

May your Past be a pleasant memory,
Your Future filled with delight and mystery,
Your Now a glorious moment,
That fills your life with deep contentment.

Lá Fhéile Pádraig Sona Daoibh
(Happy St. Patrick's Day!)

What We Have Here Is A Failure To Communicate

Remember this?
Umm... yeah, not so cute anymore.
The Mouse is lacking in the verbal skills department. But why speak when she can exercise her lungs.
All. Day. Long.
She has turned into a screamer.
(Which, if applied in the proper situations much MUCH later in life, will make some man very happy one day.)
Her screams have now become synonymous with any and every request that a Toddler can possibly think up in a 24 hour period.
I want that toy.
I want to sit in your lap.
I want you to read me this book. No... wait, I want to get down.
I want this book.
NO.
This book!
I want that cup. Not that cup. THAT cup. No I want THAT CUP. Over there. THAT CUP! THAT CUP! GAWD YOU'RE NOT LISTENING TO ME!
I want something to eat.
I want something else to eat.
I don't want to sit in my chair and eat.
I want my snack trap.
With Cheerios. Froot Loops. Oreos. Will they fit?
I want to play with the phone.
I want to play with the television remote.
No the REAL one; not the one without the batteries.
I want the toy my Brother is playing with. Oh, he's not playing with it anymore? Then I don't want it either.
I want the toy my Brother is playing with NOW.
Give me the toy.
GIVE IT TO ME.
NOW!
I want you to turn this toy on.
I want you to turn this toy off.
I want you to take the lid off this container.
I want you to put the lid back on this container.
I want to brush my own teeth.
NO! I want you to brush my teeth!
I want you to change my diaper.
Why are you putting me on the changing table and taking off my diaper?
PUT MY DIAPER BACK ON!
Why are my feet covered by socks? WHO PUT SOCKS ON MY FEET?
I want to take my socks off.
Take my socks off for me.
NOW!
What are these things in my hair?
I want to play with them.
I want you to take them out.
NOW!
I don't like the book you read me before. I want you to read THIS one.
No, no, no. I don't want you to actually read this book.
I want you to turn the pages.
Like I am a speed reader.
NO. You're turning the pages too fast. I can't see the pictures!
Start over.
I don't want you to turn the pages.
I want to do it myself.
These pages are too thin. I can't turn them.
Turn the pages for me.
I am tired. I want to go to bed.
::sigh::
She's not the only one.