Please, for the love of God, would you just cut the tooth already?!

Ciara has been in a perpetual state of teething since she was 4 months old. She began having copious amounts of drool run from her mouth all. day. long. And then at night she would be really fussy. I just assumed it was teething but here we are, 10 months old on Friday and NO TEETH! She recently started getting fussy at night again so I ply her with Tylenol and baby Oragel before bed because at this point, it has got to be the teeth, no?

Making the rounds

We just got back from visiting my husband's office and my father-in-law's. They work about two blocks from one another so I decided to hit the two places at once since my fil has been bugging me to bring the kids in. Apparently, he brings their pictures in to show people all the time and is always telling them the funny things they say and do (such as the Powdered Sugar Incident).

It is sort of embarassing, really. I mean, my kids are grandchildren #8, 9 and 10 but the way he and my mil go on about them, you'd think they were their only ones. I am sure my husband's siblings are sick and tired of hearing about them and seeing their pictures all over the house. I know for sure at least two are jealous of me for having the only girl out of 10 grandchildren (petty women) but, hey, what can I do? Truth be told--and I am honest to goodness not tooting my own horn--my kids are the best behaved of the bunch. That has to count for something. And, come on, you have to admit they are pretty darn cute, too.

Note to self...

For future reference, do not bother to reason/explain things to a 3 year old. Just agree to whatever it is they are asking you because there is a 99% chance they won't remember your conversation anyway.

Case in point: As I was folding laundry, Aidan saw his new summer pajamas. "Ohhh, can I wear these tonight?" "Sure." I say. If only it were that easy. He next spots his new Red Sox shirt.

Aidan: "Can I wear this tonight too?"
Me: "Honey, that is a regular shirt not a pajama shirt."
A: "But can I wear it?"
Me: "You can wear it tomorrow when you get dressed."
A: Okay. But can I wear it tonight?"
Me: "But it's..."
A: "Can Iiiiii?"
Me: "Sure you can wear it tonight"
A: "Okay!" --skips off to find something else to do.

Now when tonight rolls around, I can almost guarantee he will not ask me about that Red Sox shirt. I could have saved myself a 10 minute conversation by just agreeing to it from the get go. This has happened on numerous occasions and each time I just resort to the "YES!" and that is the end of the conversation.

Now, I will really be in trouble when he starts to call me on it.

No more formula!

I don't know whether to laugh or cry. When I think of not shelling out $20+ every week for formula, I want to laugh. On the other hand, it also means that my baby has outgrown that part of her babyhood. And that makes me want to cry. She will be 10 months old next week and the doctor had given us the go ahead to start her on whole milk so when we came to our last can of formula, I decided to just do it. The only thing that was holding me back was the fact that I wanted to relish her infancy.

It is funny how things change because when Aidan and Gavin were her age, I couldn't wait for them to be off of formula (twins=twice as many cans each week!). In fact, I couldn't wait for them to do a lot of things. Crawling, pulling up, walking, talking--I was so anxious for them to hit these milestones as a sign they were developing on target. But now with Ciara, who is most definitely my last baby, I feel just a teeny bit sad with each passing milestone. The week before she turned 9 months old, she crawled forward for the first time, clapped her hand and said "Mama". I was so proud-happy-sad-melancholy that week. She is growing up way too fast for my liking.

Driving each other crazy

Aidan and Gavin are so funny with each other lately. They interact so much more now and they try to play together. I say try because they both have totally different interests even at this young age. Gavin loves to follow you around the house, ask what you are doing, why you are doing it and if he can help. Aidan parks it in front of the TV and that is about it for him. He couldn't care less about what I was doing around the house unless it is vaccuuming which interferes with his TV viewing.

When Aidan is not watching TV, he has recently discovered cars and helicopters and has a few that he likes to zoom around the room. Gavin is not really a car person as of yet and would prefer to pretend he is building things with his tools or preparing something in his play kitchen. About the only thing they like to do together is playing with their Fisher Price Little People animals and the castle. So, the planets finally align and we are all up in the playroom together playing with the castle. Gavin decided he wants the animals to play in the castle, too so he goes downstairs to get them on the first floor. While he is down there, he looks at the TV and mistakenly says "Oh look, Brum is on!" Aidan must have sonic ears because he was down those stairs faster than herd of buffalo and that was the last we heard from him. (Brum is a British tv show on Discovery Kids about this little antique car that always saves the day) :







So Gavin heads back upstairs with the tub of animals and, upon realizing that Aidan is not following him, proceeds to have a meltdown on the stairs screaming "Aidan! Aidan! Play with me!" It was heartbreaking, really, but a little bit funny at the same time because Aidan is totally oblivious to the fact that Gavin is so upset because of him. He calmly just says "I'm watchin' Brum, Gavin" without ever taking his eyes from the TV.

I can only imagine what will happen when they are older and begin using brute force on one another.

"I don't know how you do it"

There are three comments that are enough to make me roll my eyes when I hear them. I normally am very laid back and let things just roll off me, but these few annoy me to no end:

1. I don't know how you do it. Usually this statement is only uttered by my mom and my mother-in-law. And it is usually uttered after spending any amount of time with my boys who are of an age where they are very...let's say, "active". "I tell you, I don't know how you do it and manage to look so relaxed" my mil says. I'll tell you how: I am 35 years younger than you, that's how. And then I ask them how they did it back when they popped out 3 kids in as many years. And they didn't even have VCRs, DVDs or computers to keep the litte ones entertained (Um, not that I do this or anything). This is always met with "Well, yes, I guess you're right."

2. You certainly have your hands full. I normally get this one when I am out by myself with all three. I mean, can they find nothing else to say? How about how cute they are or how well-behaved? Usually my response to this one is: "Well, I'd rather have them full than empty."

3. You mean you had another one after twins?! This is the most annoying to me. And it was recently said to me by a parent of twins. But then again, it was the dad so of course he would be boggled by the desire to willingly have another. What can I say? As corny as it sounds, I felt like I found my calling in life when I became a mom. I was good at it so why not have another? Plus, I was a kindergarten teacher before having the boys. I was used to controlled chaos.

So the next time you are out and about and see a woman looking happy, if not slightly harried, while trying to push the store carriage with two preschoolers in the cart area and an infant in the front seat, just smile and say "What a nice family you have". It'll really make her day.

Unsolicited comments and a moment of pride

We had our third and final First Communion this weekend. Hallelujah! This one was on my husband's side and we rarely get together except for these special occasions and even then several of his siblings are no-shows (whole other blog post entirely).

So my mother-in-law's very good friend is there because she also happens to be the godparent of Communion boy's mom. I don't particularly care for this woman and I hardly talk to her except for the cordial Hi-how are-you's. Personally, I think she is kind of arrogant but have kept my opinions to myself all these years. Anyway, she asks how the kids are doing and all that chit chat. Sean mentions they are all doing fine "unless you count sleeping" he says, "Ciara has been a horrible sleeper lately". It eventually comes out that at some point during the night, she comes into our bed to sleep. "Gee", says mil's friend, "you'd think since she is your third you'd know better." Oooooh, in that moment I was wishing I was witty enough to shoot back with some biting remark but all I could come up with was "Well, it all comes down to me sleeping or me not sleeping and I will take sleep, thank you very much". Plus, I went on, Aidan did this same thing at her age and he is a great sleeper now. It took him almost 2 years to get there, sure, but as long as I know it is just a phase (as most everything in childhood is) then I can deal with it.

And now onto my moment of pride...

It is always so validating when the manners you have tried so hard to instill in your toddler-come-preschooler show themselves in public. And better yet, when they flow out of the child's mouth naturally without any prompting or reminding. Both boys were so polite most of the day and I was just beaming when my mil said "You are doing such a good job with them". Not that I needed to hear that to know I was a good mom but still, it felt nice. It also felt nice when another little boy their age threw his drink yogurt container on the floor and the dad (who I don't know at all) kept saying "Pick that up", "Would you please pick that up?" "Anthony! Pick that up!" The boy totally ignored him. I kind of felt awkward since we were the only adults in the room and I didn't know him enough to joke around with him about it. So, I asked Aidan once to please pick that up (I still don't know why I did) and he did and walked over to hand it to me. That's my boy. And then there is the other one...Gavin. Who, when asked to say hello to another little boy in the room, replied "No, thank you please."

Ah well, you can't win 'em all.

At what point are childhood antics not considered cute anymore?

I was thinking the other day as I was down on the floor playing with my children about this question. I was kissing Ciara's belly and she was squealing with delight and grabbing my hair. Then her brother came over and did the same to her and got the same reaction. Then she continued to grab at his hair and pull it a little. Since Aidan didn't seem upset by it given the fact that he was giggling away, I said in my sing-song mommy voice "Are you pulling your brother's hair? Are you? Are you pulling it you silly baby?" I then thought at what point does your tone change and it becomes "Are you pulling your brother's hair?! Are you?!"

Another case in point: Just about a year ago, our house had no fence around it and we had a dog. Every time he had to go out, either myself or my husband had to put his leash on and walk him around outside until he did his business. A huge pain in the butt especially while I was home all day with two little ones. I had to get the play yard out and put them in and then curse the dog while he took too long to find the perfect spot outside. This is the whole reason we now have a fence although looking back, I think getting rid of the dog would have been the more economical option. But I digress...

So, one morning the dog started pacing and pacing and I knew he had to go out. He had already done his #2 business with my husband before he left for work so I knew he just had to pee and come back in. I put Barney (ack!) on for the boys--who were not quite 2 at the time--and left them in the house while I took the dog right outside the front door. I was literally gone for less than 2 minutes which apparently is enough time for two toddlers to find a full box of confectioner's sugar in the (unlocked) pantry cabinet and do this:


Upon discovering this scene what did I do? I grabbed my camera which happened to be on the entertainment center and started taking pictures. My mother still cannnot believe I did that. This is now known throughout the family as The Powdered Sugar Incident and from what I recall, I wasn't angry that they did this. It was actually pretty comical. Except for the fact that I was 6 months pregnant at the time and almost cried at the thought of cleaning it up. Luckily my sister was doing laundry at my parents' house and I called and just said "Can you come over right now?". She flew over from five streets away thinking I was in pre-term labor or something. We spent the next hour and a half cleaning the mess up while chuckling to ourselves how we couldn't believe they did this and trying to figure out who the ringleader was.

I am thinking that if they did this now, I would be furious and would probably deposit them in their room as I grumbled beneath my breath while cleaning it up. What changed? Is it because they are older and I would expect them to know better? Am I just not patient anymore? It was only a year ago, what happened to me? I think the more they develop and assert their personalities and independence, the less tolerance you have for these antics. Which makes me a little sad but I guess this is just how it is. My mother tells us things that we did as kids that she was livid about but now laughs as she recalls the stories.

I am sure I will be laughing about this one for years to come.

My children are fashion plates but me? I have nothing...

I just got back from summer clothes shopping for my children. I spent $237 for the three of them and I am not even done yet. Way back when we were childless I never would have spent that much for clothes in one day for me. Never. I would hem and haw over spending $25 for a single item, change my mind eight times before I got to the register, buy it anyway, take it home and still fret about it for a couple of days. But today, while shopping for the kiddos I was buying and buying and buying, filling up my bag with abandon. Because it was for them and because it was a necessity.

I have not really gone shopping for myself since the boys were born 3 years ago. I have picked up a t-shirt here, some jeans there but not a whole lot. And certainly nothing "dressy". Those days are long gone. I have no need of dressy stuff. Except for the three First Communions we have in the family this year. The first was a couple of weeks ago and it was chilly so I could get away with wearing a sweater I wore for Christmas. The next two will surely require something a little more suited to the warmer weather we've been having.

Communion #2 is today and you think I would have picked something up for myself when I was shopping for the kids this morning. But no, I can only concentrate on one thing at a time and I was trying to keep track of what I bought who. So now I am scrambling through my drawers and closet to find something that looks like I put a little effort into dressing for the event. I finally find a short sleeve sweater from my teaching days that miraculously still fits. Hooray! But wait...what's that? There is a little stain near the shoulder. I try dabbing it with some stain remover and water but God knows what it is and how long it's been there. I rummage through my clothes again and find nothing. Nothing. I want to cry. And then I have to make a decision. Will I wear it anyway? What else can I do? A plan starts to form in my mind... I know! I will carry the baby into the party so she is covering up the stain. I will say my hellos and people can make eyes at her. She will smile and inevitably turn her head into my shoulder. When someone takes her from me (as they most certainly will within 5 minutes of us being there) I can exclaim "Oh look! She must have spit up a little on me. What a day to give her blueberries! Let me run to the bathroom and see if I can get it out."

Hahahaha. No one will ever be the wiser.

Confession

So, my daughter just turned 9 months old. And do you know where she sleeps? In her swing. Still.

It all started when she was a newborn. She hated sleeping on her back in the portable crib we had in our room, as did her two brothers. So we started putting her in her carseat to sleep at night and then placing that in the portable crib to get her used to it. We figured maybe once she got familiar with the feel of being in the crib, she'd make the transition. No dice.

So then when she was about 8 weeks old, we moved her to the swing after she started waking up quite a few times at night. Worked like a charm. She slept straight through from 8 p.m until 7 am and we were in heaven. It continued like this and people (read: my mother and mother-in-law) would make comments about how "she really should be sleeping in her crib by now". But, you know what? Are they going to come over at night and get up with her every 90 minutes until the crack of dawn? And then, being dog tired from being up all night, care for and entertain two 3 year old boys all day? I highly doubt it. And so as long as she is sleeping and, more importantly, I am sleeping, then everything shall remain status quo. The day is fast approaching when she will no longer fit in swing anyway and I know my nights of uninterrupted sleep are numbered.

But until that day does come, Sweet Dreams.

What was I thinking?

So, the boys' birthday is coming up in just about a month. I just cannot believe they will be three years old. This is probably the last year I could get away with picking their birthday party theme and have them accept it and love it. But what did I do? I asked them what they wanted. And then we went through a birthday party catalog that happened to come in the mail that day. Yeah, smart move Mom. Naturally they both wanted a different theme which is ok by me because I want to foster their independent identities. But, what drives me nuts is that they change their mind after turning the page. Every. single. page.

Aidan: "I want a Madagascar tea party" (Tea party= Birthday party. I have no idea where he came up with this one.)
Gavin: "I want Buzz Lightyear"
A: "Oh look, Nemo! Can I have Nemo?"
G: "Baby Einstein! I want Baby Einstein!" (They actually had this last year but of course, don't remember. Or care.)

And so it went on like this all afternoon until the catalog was ripped to shreds from them looking through it/arguing over it. Today, we actually took them to the party store to pick out invitations figuring that once we did that, we could hype them up on their chosen theme so they would stop changing their minds every 30 seconds. It was more of the same at the store but one finally settled on Madagascar and one on Nemo.

So there. It is chosen. Now they keep asking to have cake.