Penis Balls.

Last night I went to the grocery store and spent 3.5 million dollars because we were out of everything except old celery and 4 apples.  Ben put G to bed and he said when getting ready, "Daddy, these are my penis balls.  What shape are they?  This shape or this shape?"  I would show you but it involves hand gestures.

Anyhow, made me think... maybe 6 months ago he (griffin, not ben) asked me what they were and I PANICKED and said, "ummm your balls."

I told Ben and he said, "No you didn't."

What was I supposed to say, and he said, "Uh, how about testicles."

Yah, that made more sense.  I should have gone with that.  But then we probably would have missed on on the awesome memories that Ben will have forever.

Three is the new two (aka... kids that is.) Or, WTF, I'm having three kids. Or, that time you find out you are pregnant with #3 before #2 turns 1.

Remember that one time that I ran a marathon and found out I was preggo with G the next day?  Yah, so THAT has happened again.  Not that I'm pregnant with my 3.5 year old unless I'm on some sort of weird tv show--I'm not.  I checked.  So, in my 3 marathon runs I have been pregnant for 2 of them.  Um, what the hell?

SO I'm quitting marathon running for my fertility.  Kidding.  It's because it's a long ass way and I'm going to have three kids.  Ain't nobody got time for that.

I took chlomid with BOTH of my boys to GET pregs, so this my friends, was a complete surprise and probably a bit of karma for making fun of my seestor for her unintentional pregnancy.

TMI info--say "HOLY SHIT" and skip this paragraph.

So my "things" hadn't yet returned to normal.  Like, once in November and once in January since I had my baby in March of 2013.  I was convinced my "things" would restart the day of my marathon.  I mean, pain in the ass.  SO, I was prepared.  She didn't show up, "thanks girl, for listening to my cursing you".  So on Monday morning I took one of my left over tests... because I check every so often like a crazy loon---but remember the "things" not being normal so I think it is less loony and more smarty.  whatever.  And, I use the words tests because I'm too dumb to read the lines tests probably because I'm liberal arts major and not so much a science major.  They should now market those as "For your liberal arts major" and they would probably get a good return.  We aren't all so scientific, but we can read words.

HOLY SHIT.  Ok, if you skipped that paragraph feel free to pick up here.  My words test said "PREGNANT" and I about shit my pants... only not my pants because I was "sitting."  Oops, sorry you should have picked up after this part.  That was tmi, too.  OMGOMGOMG.  Um, must corral children a drag them to walgreens... a far away walgreens in case I see someone I know.  Don't forget wedding right so people don't judge you (why it is in my mind that people are judging me for buying pregnancy tests at my advanced maternal age is beyond me.)  Probably because I have my 3 year old and my not even 1 year old.  That's why they were judging me.  Whatevs.  Buy two more tests (that are two packs, duh.)

Drink shiz ton of water.

Take more tests.

Call husband and ask if he can come home early?  Oh, you can't (holy effer) ummm... ok.... see you later.

Begin calculating our ability to live off of beans and rice.  panic panic panic

8 pm.  Ben walks in door.  Umm... so... hey, I have some news.  Good news, bad news, and just news.

Him Umm... are you pregnant?

Eff, I've thought all day about how to say this.  "Ummm... yah?"

HE IS SO STINKING EXCITED.  My husband who initially wanted one child.  Who was worried he couldn't love 2 kids was so so so excited.  Me, who has always wanted three kids, but had recently decided I was great with my two, lost my effing mind.  I had plans you know... of sleeping and vacationing.  And, I had a friend bring up the vacation commercials and there are never families with three kids.  You see mom with one kid and dad with the other WHERE IS THAT THIRD KID AND WHY ARE THEY WONDERING AROUND A DISNEY CRUISE ALONE?

Then, the worry... because my eggs are all old and dusty maybe this kid won't work right.  Turns out things are going well via the sonogram.  That was a relief.  And I'm excited now with the same calculations about beans and rice and making sure that no one is smart enough to go to college and well adjusted enough to not need therapy (good luck with that one.)  If nothing else... this kid can't go to preschool.  No one tells you to save for that.

Anyway, so that's the news.  Due in October three days after I turn 35.  Advanced maternal age.

And, I'm retiring from marathoning.

Weaning.

Weaning.

 

We have been on a slow process of weaning.  With both babies I mourn the end, but welcome the small amount of freedom, and then mourn the quiet again.  Being that sole provider for a life is kind of amazing and occasionally stressful.  M was very reluctant to cut out any feedings.  I began with the morning wake up feed.  He seemed to be less tied to that one and more ready to get started on whatever it was that his brother was doing.  It is also probably my most hectic time of day so that worked for me, too.  (Keep in mind he was still nursing around 4:30 in the morning so… morning time is a little hazy.)  Next came nap time.  Nap time is a whirlwind of coming home with both boys, Meyer being exhausted Griffin wanting a snack, dogs needing out, me needing to potty etc etc.  This was G’s easiest one.  Not the case for Meyer.  I tried to rock him a few times without nursing and he would not have it.  He wasn’t ready.  Then, he started passing out in the car on our ride home from Frances house (3 whole minutes) and so I figured out that maybe I could just lay him down.  I just hate the rush of doing it.  So we still had bed time and middle of the night time. 

 

Last night, for the first time ever, I put him to bed without first nursing him.  He started to protest but then passed out in my arms.  I didn’t sit down and rock him just stood and sang.  He slept… ALL NIGHT.  I’m not sure if this was a fluke or if we will go back.  I’m an “on demand” kind of nurser and I don’t refuse if he asks.  (by asks, I mean shows signs.)  But it was sad… and invigorating… as I had enough time to also go get a pedicure.  Then sad again. 

We rarely read books at bed time.  Meyer is an all “go” kid who when it comes to sleep is READY for bed.  He is ready for bed earlier than I put him to bed.  Probably the curse of the 2^nd.  We try to keep him up until 6:30, but sometimes it just doesn’t work that way.  I will miss the quiet time.  I will miss that connection.  I miss the snuggles.  I miss the hand than hangs on my shirt collar.  I love my baby, who will soon be a toddler.  How does it go so fast?

And, I waited three nights to post. I think it is a done deal. 

 

 

 Blurry, but night #1

 

Griffin-isms.

We went with a friend for their birthday to Chucky Cheese's.  This is a holy grail of childrens mecca that has not entered our lives.  It is a den of small people, adults, pizza and germs.  AND JESUS.  Ben came home and Griffin told him about how we saw Jesus there.  And he rode in a car with him.  And he was walking around.  Mama didn't see him, but I did.

I'm all.... what the what?  Then I realize... Chucky Jesus.  It only makes sense.

G is also really into sushi.  He gets his rolls with soy paper.  It's easier to eat.  He calls it "soylet paper."  Amaze.

He still calls pirates booty, booty pirates.  Told me that this kid at school calls it what daddy does and it's soooooooooooooo silly.

"I willnt"  (I won't.)

early and late are confusing.

"Lambie with a big nose."  I needed a lambie for him at his school as a baby.  they didn't have one the day I went to get it.  However, they DID have a blue elephant that was quite adorable.  Hence, lambie with a big nose.  Who someone asked what animal it looked like... and he said elephant.  Whatevs.  never change.  I never want him to change.

He is mostly comedic genius of things I can't currently remember.

Hey remember when..

You were all, "hey fat ass, I thought you were blogging again?"  And I was like, "that's mean.  I'm just lazy.  Not fat."  And you were like, "dude, stop being so sensitive."  And I was like, "whatever."  And you were like "um, write more nonsense about your life."  And I was all, "I will.  Try."

None of this happened.  Unless you said this behind my back and then "IT IS ON."  In a non violent and definitely NOT confrontational kind of way.

Today I took my kids to the park because the weather is amazing.  It's the nice weather when it isn't rainy and humid and not 5 million degrees.  Also, Meyer is in the zone of being a miserable baby right now.  What is up with that?  So outdoors it is.

SO we get to the park to see that there is clearly a play group going on.  Cool.  Way to make mommy friends, ladies.  Let us play in harmony next to you.  And then I begin to overhear their very dramatic very intense food discussions.  What snacks they give.  What eggs they buy.  Where they buy them.  How they buy them.  Are they delivered?  ETCETCETC.

I have "the leader" come approach me and ask if I am part of their natural mom's group because she didn't know everyone on the list.  Nope, just a mom.  Then, of course, I have Meyer strapped to me because hello... second baby and the next question is, "OH, so are you a part of the baby wearing moms group?"  Ummm...  no?  I should have then confessed that though I occasionally buy my eggs at the farmers market, when we make it there, that I do more often these days, buy them at the store.  Because that's what I have time for.  And, I buy gummy snacks.  And give them processed gluten and I don't make them go paleo.  I basically raise them for demise.

Anyway, that's that.  I just wanted to take them to the park.  AND, should you attempt to pick me up at the park... talk more about your wine consumption.

HMB turns ONE

One.  Little HMB, you are one.  This is a big deal.  A whole year you have been in our lives.  I want to say that 95% of that time we have called you Meyer the Destroyer.  You continue to hold true to this name.  Though G is a busy dude who was up and mobile super early, I didn’t do much baby proofing.  You, however, are testing those limits.  You want into everything.  Everywhere.  You have recently, in the last week or 2, learned to throw fits when you don’t get what you want.  Griffin tried to keep you out of the kitchen cabinet the other day and you pushed him and screamed.  All 19 lbs of you.  You want me to hold you.  Lots.  You want what you want and you want it NOW. 

You do not talk as much as your brother, but realistically, who does?   No one.  Except my nephew.  You have started giving kisses.  You make the really sweet mmmmmmmmmm sound.  It’s adorable.  You also want me to pretend eat all of  your food.  I shouldn’t have started this.  I eat a lot of your food.  This is not helping with baby weight, dude.  I do love graham crackers, though.  I gave you peanut butter for the first time the other day and then watched you closely for an hour to make sure you weren’t dying.  You weren’t.  You go to bed around 6:30 (which you would prefer to be earlier.)  You LOVE your bath and splashing.  You wake up once a night to nurse.  You say, “weaning, what’s that?”  You are pretty anti weaning.   That’s another post for another time.  You usually wake up between 6:30 and 7 am.  You are down to one nap a day.  You sleep from about 1-2:30.  You put everything in your mouth.  Everything.  You want to climb the bed and play around on it like brother does.  However, you can’t seem to realize there are edges and you will fall off.  You crawl, quickly.  You really want Gizmo to be your friend.  He isn’t.  He is not happy with your choice of dedicated friendship.  You eat blueberries like they are going out of style.  Fruit.  You hate milk.  Except when you don’t.  I think you are pretty adorable.  Your brother loves you and wants you to do what he says.  I think he feels the same about me.  Sorry dude.  I think you could walk.  You refuse.  You have stood up unassisted for a good 10 seconds before you realize what is happening and then collapse to the ground.  Tricky.  Granted, I don’t mind carrying you around.  Too much.  You have zero interested in baby toys.  Zero.  We need to pack them up and send them elsewhere.  You love to cruise around furniture and turn and smile.  Peekaboo is a fun fun game.  You don’t always realize you need to put your hands over your eyes and do more of a hands on your head number.  You had a while where you crawled up to the bathroom and pushed everything sitting on the side of the tub in.  Helpful.  You LOVE your paci’s.  You have them at bedtime.  But, should you see one out when it isn’t bed time you beeline.  It’s precious.

Words.  Hi.  Mama.  Da.  (dog) Da (dad).  Bubba.  Juice (I think you said this yesterday) and Bath.  Nananana (no.)  You have said nana.  You seem to say things when you want and just don’t if you don’t want to.  You are a man with gusto. 

You are the 25% in height and weight with your head measuring at a good ol’ 50%.  Just like your NeeNee.

I had to change your birthday party because SXSW coincided.  Sorry dude.  You don't seem to mind. 

We love you.  Lots.  We don't love the shrieking that you have recently acquired.  

Don't ever change.  Except the word thing.  Oh, and always love your mama.

11 months

Your last week that we will count in months.  You are almost an ENTIRE year old.  You’ve come along way, baby.  What felt like an eternity with the billi boards(sp) (aka your tanning bed) and that whole extra day in the hospital, the three week non stop eating, the helmet, the tubes, the spit up—and we couldn’t love you more.  You feel like we just got you and like we’ve had you forever.  You are a prefect fit.

At 11 months you are a little mess who still only has four teeth.  You LOVE to wave.  Waving is your favorite.  Other than saying “dog.”  That’s your other favorite.  Or clapping.  You are quite the clapper.  Yesterday we sang if you’re happy and you know it (favorite song—sensing a theme here?) you were standing up and holding on to a door.  You could not figure out how to clap your hands so you hit yourself in the face before you sat down on the ground and got to clapping and smiling.  You recently give big mouthed kisses.  You love to take a bath.  You love to crawl away from me quickly.  It makes you laugh.  You are a mess.  You get in. to. Everything.  You want to open all cabinets and take out all contents.  When you get mad you squeal and cry.  You want everything your brother has.  You have almost zero interest in baby toys.  I don’t even know why we have them.  You still wake up in the night and want to nurse.  Speaking of nursing… you show zero interest in stopping.  You also hate milk.  You drink it and immediately spit it out.  I feel ya, dude.  You do this shy/turn away/semi teasing thing and you draw up your arm around your belly.  I call it the Bill Cosby.  You are adorable.  I think you may love your brother most of all.  You are on the move.  Slow it down, brotha.

I keep thinking you will begin to speak in sentences instead of “uh uh uh” used for everything.  Maybe you say “that” or “this”.  You also have said “nana.”  I know you can.  When we ask you questions you shake your head yes.  It’s precious.

I cannot believe that you were born ONE year ago (tomorrow.)  We love you little one.