I need help!

2 posts in one day! I mean wow! Really? Because when I started this I was thinking once or twice a week but apparently I have more to say than I thought I would.
So I do need help. Or a life. Something more to occupy my time because, you know what? I am BORED! That is my only explanation. I have to constantly be doing something. I can't just sit there and watch Lost. No. I have to be working on some kind of project in the process.
(Ok a little parenthetical note that has nothing to do with what I was talking about but I thought it was funny. Then again I am really tired so it could just be that. I was looking over at the door as I was typing and you know what I saw when I looked back? ug baek benighan. I have no idea what that's supposed to mean. But I guess that means I really need to pay attention to what I'm doing.)
Tonight I finished the album I was avoiding for my parents Christmas present. And I got out all these special milestone pictures I've been taking for Baby X because I got this sudden 'brilliant' idea that for his birthday party this weekend, I'm going to take a scrapbook page, put his footprints in the center, put 6 of these milestone pictures on each side of the scrapbook page and then have guests sign their names and a wish because I am a giant freak and can't just let well enough alone.
I also made bread for the party to make sandwiches. I know I know. It's bread! But it's not just any bread. I made a loaf of red and one of blue. Tomorrow I'm making purple and green. Because You know what? I am bored!
I've taken up making jewelry because I wanted to see if I could do it and now that I know I can? I keep doing it and this is bad because I don't wear jewelry. Ok, rarely. Certainly not enough to require all the necklaces and matching bracelets I've been making.
And I have a blanket I have been crocheting everytime we watch a movie.
One year I made purses for Girl X, some of her friends and my nieces out of the pocket of old jeans.
And I don't know what my problem is. Why can't I just sit and watch a movie? Why do I do this to myself? Why do I always seem to have 7 projects going at once?
I need to start taking valium or something.

Entitlement

I love Christmas and I love shopping. I like the last minute rush as much as getting it all done early. I know it's pretty sick but I can't help it. There are years where I'm done early, but I'll go out Christmas Eve because I just love that rush of people and the flurry of paper.
But there's that ugly little monster lurking behind the corner. Just waiting to jump out and ruin the mood. It could be dressed in a grandmother or a teen, a yuppie or a soccer mom.
Entitlement.
Perfect example:
I was waiting in line at an arts and crafts store. They only had 2 registers open and the lines were getting really long so they called for another cashier. When she came from the back of the store, she took the first person in the line beside us. The lady behind me started having a fit. She was probably in her late 50's, early 60's and you would think she'd know better but criminy! Convulsions! She sighed and stomped her feet and her face scrunched up. I asked her if she was ok because I thought ambulance maybe? What if she having a stroke?
She glared at me and then leaned over the partition to talk to the cashier in the line next to us.
"You know, the proper thing to do when you open a register is to take who is next not who is closest. I was in line before her and should have been first. You may want to pass that little tidbit onto your friend who does not seem to understand customer service."
Few points before I go on....
1) I was in line in front of this Princess so by her reasoning, I should have gone first.
2) She was in line maybe half a second before the other lady.
3) The other cashier could not have known this for she does not have x-ray vision (as far as I know. I mean she could but she didn't say anything to me and I would guess that having a superpower she wouldn't share it with me, a total stranger) and could not see that from the back of the store.
4) For the other cashier to have taken Princess first, she would have had to cross 2 long lines and pulled her back, making everyone else move out of her way and it wouldn't have been worth it.

Now, to her credit, the cashier smiled and said 'of course'. Because really? If it had been me? She would have gotten this:
"Lady I get paid $7 an hour. I don't give a flaming penny when you got in line."

But the cashiers very polite answer did not satisfy Princess.
She leaned over again and a little bit louder declared that "I have been known to leave stores for that kind of treatment."

The hell?

What did she expect this her to do? Cancel her sale and take Princess first? Offer her a discount? An arm? Her first born child?

And again the cashier politely said "I understand. I'm sorry about your wait. I'm sure your cashier is moving as fast as she can."

Princess huffed and turned red.

This is the part where the smart part of my brain, the one that says 'just shut up and don't say anything you'll only make it worse' goes to sleep. It never fails. Everytime I should shut my trap, it takes a nap or a vacation or whatever it is that those parts of my brain does when I need it most. Like when I'm making run on sentences and the part of my brain that would normally tell me to stop and DAMMIT ALL USE PUNCTUATION ALREADY just disappears and y'all are stuck reading this and thinking 'GAH!! Get her a grammar tutor already!' But that's what happens. And that's what happened here because instead of turning around and just letting it go I looked her straight in the bulging, pulsating eye and said
"Hey Princess, you can go in front of me before you stroke out."

And she huffed and puffed and stomped her way in front of me mumbling about 'rude' and 'insolent'.

The cashier she had been annoying looked at me relieved and also, amused.

Princess threw her stuff on the counter and handed the cashier a coupon. And the cashier looked at the coupon and said "I'm sorry but you can't use this coupon. Wrong product."

Princess stormed out yelling about never coming back. And I think the entire store breathed relief and said "Thank Goodness!"

But this isn't some isolated incident. It happens all the time and I don't get why. Do we forget as we get older all the rules we learned as kids?
*Share
*Take turns
*Patience
*Temper Tantrums will get you sent to the corner

I hope that Princess took a time out.

I suck........

I have turned procrastination into an art form. I do this to myself every year and every year I say 'Never again!'
Who am I kidding? Not me! Because I know I'm lying.
Here it is again. Nearly the beginning of December and I have not finished my parents album for Christmas. Every year I make them a scrapbook of things we did the year before. Since they live on the other side of the country, it helps them keep up and the appreciate it.
I actually started in January, I just never bothered to finish it. So, now I'm rushing to complete that and the one for my brother since he also lives so far away. Oh, and the one I was making for a friend. All that I need to have finished by next week so I can still have enough time to finish Girl X's 2 that I planned for Christmas for her.

And am I working on it now while Baby X is sleeping and I could actually get some of it done?
Hell no.
Because? My time is better spent playing TriJong and reading Vietnamese God (under blogs of note!).
And because, as I believe I mentioned, I suck.
And ok, I could really go up and work on it now but then I start coming up with all sorts of reasons why not.
Like I'm sick. Which I am but it's really not a good reason.
Or I'm in a rut and the pages are starting to look the same. And my parents so do not care if they all look the same BECAUSE THEY JUST WANT THE DAMN BOOK!!!
I'm going to go chug a bunch of soda because I hate coffee but caffeine is absolutely essential right now and go force myself to work on this album.


Right after this next 2 or 3 or 8 rounds of TriJong.

Mixed Bag.........

So I had a couple of things to blog about today but my mind is all scattered and I don't really know where I want to go.
There's the fact that tomorrow will mark 6 years since my mother died. I don't know what to feel about it at this point. We had such a difficult relationship and I doubt that it ever would have improved. I hope I'm not like her. I don't seem to be, but those things can sneak up on you.
There's the fact that tomorrow, Ms Ok-love-you-bye-bye will descend and be in her holiday mode. Holiday mode is exhausting. At least to me. I'm going to have to steer her away from my kitchen and away from the clean-up and away from the leftovers and so on.
I still say that having to cook for them last year is the reason I went into labor the following week. A few weeks early. Poor kid. Scared out of the womb.
Or that Christmas is almost here. My favorite season! Mr X and I get way to into it. One year we ripped a piece of red cotton and stuck it in the fireplace. We told Girl X that Santa's suit got ripped when he went up the fireplace. She picked it up and just looked at it like it was gold. It's in her little hope chest. And this year Baby X will actually be able to enjoy all the lights and opening his own presents and pulling down the Christmas tree to get to the lights! Yay!
And then there is just all this other stuff rolling around up there in my head and I don't know. Maybe stuff for another day!

Well, time to check my liquour levels and get things ready for tomorrow.

Happy Thanksgiving!!

Random Thoughts for Today

*When I went to return the present my MIL gave Girl X, I realized that she knows nothing about my kid. The clothes were 2 sizes too big and not even remotely like anything Girl X would wear. I know it's the effort and yeah, I appreciate that she is trying. But after 6 years? I think she should at least know how to spell Girl X's name. Seriously, I could see if she had just met us, but 6 years and not even close?

*Macy's rocks.

*I took Baby X to get his one year pictures and Gah!!! Because he? Cut a tooth in the middle of his session. Still got a lot of great shots but for the 2nd time in less than a week he had a bloody mouth.

*In the catergory of 'I can't believe I'm going to admit this'.... Baby X beat me up. Ok, it's not really that bad but ouch! I have this gigantic purple and black bruise on my leg from where he kicked me. I can't count the ones from him pinching me because there are just to many. I could play connect the dots.

*Baby X? LOVES football! Girl X was sitting on the floor talking to Mr X when we heard it. *thumpthumpthumpthump* faster and faster and before Mr X could say 'What the?' Boom! Baby X lunged out of nowhere and knocked Girl X flat on her back! He laughed and climbed on to her tummy and started yelling like "HAHA!! I'm King of the Sister!" and oh my gosh! I lost it. I know it's not nice and really we should put a stop to this but it was just so random and where did he get that?? Thankfully, Girl X thought it was kind of funny too. But now we have to watch out whenever we're sitting on the floor or standing within range of him because he will fly at us and try to tackle us.

*Cat X hates to be tackled. Really hates me now too. I've pretty much guarenteed that I'm getting a lump of cat poo for Christmas if not sooner.

*Nobody notices when you sign the credit slip as Natasha Fatale. And if anyone gets that reference? Bonus points!

Happy Birthday Stinkerbelle....

She is 8. 8!!! I have an 8 year old daughter. I say this every year. Well, not the '8' part, but the basic 'how did that happen?'..... yeah. Because it just always surprises me. She is getting so big and so non-baby like.
Every time I think of her I see this:





That wide-eyed, take your breath away, 'I trust you completely' look. I love this picture. I remember the day she was born and it still makes me stop. I made the nurses let her sleep in my room that night. She kicked her feet out of her swaddle and had them hanging over the bassinet. She still can't sleep with her feet under covers. I remember leaving the next day in absolute horror that these people were letting me take her home. Me! What the hell did I know about babies? But they did. And we were ok.






I made this outfit for her. It was the first thing I ever made. I still have it tucked away in a box of special things that belong solely to her.










Oh Gosh! The way she used to laugh! Deep from the belly and unrestrained. All I had to do was wiggle my fingers as though I were about to tickle her.











Her first birthday.... Shortly after this picture she threw the cake on the floor and started freaking out because her hands were dirty!











My little buckethead. All those amazing toys we ran to buy her and her favorite toy? A bucket.






She is a sweet girl. Empathetic and smart. She loves her brother so much I can't even find the words for it and he? Adores her. She is his favorite 'toy'.
She can be so silly and then so serious.
And somehow, 8 years have gone by. I don't remember what life was really like before she was in it. 8 years and she's not a baby or even a little girl anymore.
I turn around now and see her and think 'wow'. All over again. Wow.
She has so much ahead of her. I want to guard her form her first heartbreak, I know I can't but I certainly want too. I think about her getting her license and wonder how I'm going to ever sleep again. I wonder what she'll do with her life. I wonder who she'll be.
In my head, she's that same little girl who insisted that she could touch the sky if I held her up far enough.
Reality? She's 8.

Oh What The Holy Hell Was That About???

So, life is good. I mean really good. I've never been so out of this world, move-over-Tom-Cruise-you-psycho-couch-killer happy.
So why the hell did I just burst into tears for the second time today???

I was just sitting here playing TriJong (damn addicting games) and then boom! Tears. Everywhere. And for why????

I can't be crazy emotional lady again. I couldn't leave my house for weeks after Girl X was born and during my 2nd trimester because I'd just burst into tears at random moments. Like seriously just be standing there at the deli counter waiting my turn and then I'd just start crying. Not quiet, sniffle-sniffle-quickly-wipe-it-away-no-one-will-notice tears. No. Full on heaving sobs. The kind that make everyone around me stop and turn to look at me in horror because oh wow there is some strange lady having a breakdown in the middle of the deli!
And let me tell you, trying to ask for a pound of roast beef when you can't stop crying? Not fun. At least not for me. Maybe for you reading this story and maybe for the deli guy after I left, but not me. I almost choked trying to talk but I couldn't stop crying.
And then, like now, there was no reason for it.
So here I am. Happily going on my own way and the crying? Again?
Baby X is going to be a year old soon. How long do I have until I can't blame it on hormones anymore?

Grateful.........

Someone e-mailed me about some of my posts. I'm not offended and it's totally ok. So, let me clarify.

I am endlessly grateful for what I have. I wouldn't trade a sleepless night or stained clothing for anything.
I don't have a job. I don't think of raising my kids as a job. It's one of those rare wonders in life. I get rewarded daily with grins, giggles, secrets from Girl X and that awesome little 'wow' from Baby X at each new discovery.
As adults, we tend to take those everyday things for granted. The way the air smells right before it rains in the summer. The bite of that first cold winter day on your nose. The sound of the leaves crunching under little boots. The power of the wind in the trees and the way it can make the grass dance. The feel of that grass under bare feet. The way play dough feels when you squish it in your fingers.
I get to see the world through my kids' eyes and all I can do is echo their 'wows'. My son can watch the grass dance and the caterpillars slowly make their way through the yard and it's just amazing. Suddenly I don't feel so tired and I don't mind that my clothes are wrinkled. I've got the meaning of my life in front of me and he's holding my hand.
My other reason for being is in school learning to read and do math and make friends and sing silly songs and sharing her lunch. Then she comes home and tells me all about it. There is so much she has to teach me and I don't take any of it for granted.
I like to kid about the lack of sleep, the clothing struggles, feeding battles and the normal attitude of an 8 year old want-to-know-it-all. But I love it. Every minute of it.

Sleep?

It's official.

We have lost our minds.

We've spent nearly a year trying to teach Baby X to sleep through the night and every time he does? We wake up throughout the night to check on him because he hasn't woken up.
It had been awhile since Baby X slept through the night. He was working on popping out all of his teeth. He never got cranky during the day. He just wouldn't sleep all night.
So when he started doing it again last week, it was strange. I kept waking up and checking on him. I finally fell sound asleep at 3 am only to jump out of bed at 6:30 when I realized that I still hadn't heard from the little bugger.
Did you know that if you go running into a baby's room screaming their name they wake up?
Well, let me tell you, they do. And they get mighty pissed off at you for daring to disturb their sleep! Forget about going back to sleep after that. You are now doomed to a day of Sesame Street and patty cake.
This is insane! I slept better when he was waking me up at least once a night.
I vaguely remember something about this when Girl X was a baby. I think she was 4 before I started sleeping through the night again.
We're pathetic.
Mr X went to check on him before he left for work the other day since Baby X used to get up when Mr X did. At 4 am. Yeah. I'm not at my best at 4 am.
"Mrs X, baby is awake"
"Take him outside."
"Take the baby outside?"
"Take that whiny ass dog outside and quit bugging me."
"No, the baby is awake not the dog."
"Tell him to quit bugging me too."

I am so not a morning person. I thought it would be great when Baby X started sleeping through the night because hey! Sleep! I remember what it feels like to get a good night's sleep! I remember what it's like to not feel like crawling back into bed at 9 am to sleep until 2.
I guess I just didn't expect to have to train myself to sleep through the night now that Baby X is.

Do you smell smoke?

Flashback time!

It was about 1985 and my parents went out for the evening and left my sister in charge for the very first time. It had taken much begging and the fact that no decent babysitter within a 20 mile radius would would stay on the phone the moment they said our names (a point which filled us with great pride). We were infamous!
Our house was old, built in the later end of the 1800's. There weren't many cabinets in the kitchen and very few places to keep the amount of snacks we savages went through in a week. Out of desperation, our parents kept a lot of our stash in the oven.
My parents left for the evening and we promptly ignored my sister's pleas to be good and began plotting what to destroy first. We had settled on boiling some old 8 tracks when my sister suggested dinner first.
It started off ok. Frozen pizza..... how bad could it be?
We sat around the table waiting for our pizza and debating on whether boiling the 8 tracks would work or if we'd have to stick them in the oven when the pizza was done.
"Do you smell smoke?"
I thought we were just burning the pizza but when we opened the oven a few small flames jumped out. My sister had missed a cellophane wrapped bag of chocolate covered pretzels in the back of the oven.
I screamed, my brothers both ran for the fire extinguisher and my sister ran to her room.
My brothers fought over who got to put out the fire and I ran next door to tell our neighbors that our house was on fire.
My younger brother won the argument when he agreed to let my older brother get first pick on in his Christmas presents.
The little bit of fire that was there could have been put out with just a squirt but being the little hellions that we were, one squirt was not going to cut it. Fire extinguishers smell awful! Emptying a fire extinguisher on a tiny fire? Really awful!
I wonder what my parents first thought when they pulled up and saw the fire department outside their house. I wonder what they thought when I came up and said 'It wasn't me' or when my younger brother came up and said 'There isn't any real damage!'
I wonder what they were thinking when they left us alone again!

Heavy

Girl X has been asking a lot of questions about death lately. We had gotten her off the subject for sometime, but it's back.
She will be turning 8 (8! when the hell did that happen??) next week.
Isn't this a little heavy for an 8 year old??? When I was 8 I was thinking about how to get back at my brother for blowing the head off my barbie doll with his bb gun. (Little bastard!) Girl X? She wants to discuss where Heaven is and how did G-d make the world? And why do things have to age? Why do years pass? Why do we get old? Why doesn't G-d want us to stay young? What happens to my body when I die?
And being that sort of parent who wants to do things just the opposite of mine, meaning tell her the truth, I am trying. But it's really hard and I don't want her to dwell on it. I don't want her to get so wrapped up in worrying about what comes next that she forgets about this lifetime because hey. It can be pretty damn great.
I blame Mr X a little bit for this.
He took her to the park one day and to get there, he had to pass a cemetary. She asked what it was. She was maybe 4. All he had to do was say a cemetary. If she asked further, ok, a little explanation. But damn! What he told her? I had nightmares. And she didn't get it. All she got was that there would be no more mom and dad and friends and toys and M&M's? Nope.
Personally, I think there must be M&M's in Heaven because there is no more perfect food that M&M's.
He meant well, he just forgot that she was 4. And easily scared.
So, when they came home and she was crying I had to sit with her and talk about G-d and why it wasn't bad. No, we weren't in a hurry to get there but it was ok.
She accepted this and for the most part, it's ok.
But every now and then she slips one of those questions in on me and it throws me for a loop.
I wish she'd give me more of those goofy questions. Like whether or not fish fart (they do, sort of). Or if cows speak human when we're not around to listen.
When she had her tooth pulled the other week? I said how cool it would be when the tooth fairy came and gave her a surprise. She said she thought fairies weren't real. Then she asked if they were. What could I do? I told her the truth (which, really? getting harder and harder the older she gets). That it's fun to pretend the tooth fairy is real and don't spoil it for the other kids. She wasn't upset. She asked if we could keep pretending too and we did.

Next she's going to ask me if Santa is real. I don't want to answer that yet! Let her have one more year believing in Santa before that childhood magic is gone too! We have always made such a big deal about Christmas. One year we stuck a piece of red cloth in the fire place grate and told her Santa's suit got caught in it. Her eyes were huge! She held that piece of cloth as if it were gold. She whispered 'wow' in total awe. It was amazing and one of my favorite moments. I'll never forget that 'wow'. That wonder.

My girl is getting older and soon, I'm going to have to face it. For today, I'm going to hold her in my lap one more moment. One more moment before she's too big or tells me how uncool that would be.

You Fool!!!

I had a physical therapy appointment today for my hand. I've been going for about 2 months now and it's slowly getting better. Meaning I can bend my wrist without screaming my head off. Baby X has to come with me because everyone I know either works or is my mother-in-law and anything left with my mother-in-law? Never seen again. And I've become pretty attached to Baby X. He's cute, he seems to like me and I have that whole room set up for him so yeah. I don't want to lose him amid Miss ok-love-you-bye-bye's massive pile-oh-crap.
Anyway, since I'm getting off track and did you notice that I do that a lot? Because I do. Like right now? I forgot what I was going to tell you. Oh right, physical therapy.
So, Baby X goes with me and it's lovely. He is such an easy going little squirt. He's one of those babies where you hate the mom because he rarely cries. It's not uncommon for him to go an entire day without a fuss. Yeah, ok. You can hate me now too.
He sits in his stroller and plays and flirts and eats those Gerber Fruit puffs and talks to his pointy finger (and I think the pointy finger talks back) and all is well. Since my appointments take an hour, this is really cool. And I get to talk to a real live human adult. And she actually talks back and does not ask me for things like Bratz dolls (so damn ugly) or diaper changes. She did ask though that I stop offering her Fruit Puffs and talking to her in that higher toned baby speak. And she's nice! Did I mention I get to talk to another living breathing Adult???? Yeah. So nice.
Today before I left I thought it would be nice if I actually wore clothes that did not say maternity on them or had spit up on them or marker. Or mashed fruit puffs. I thought I'd leave the house looking like I'd actually taken time to put on something I hadn't been sleeping in.
Ok, it was just jeans and a nice shirt (read clean and unstained) but wow! I felt human. There was no maternity label on the pants or shirt. No holes. It matched.
I was all pleased with myself. I packed up the diaper bag and picked up Baby X. I had just enough time to get to my appointment. I ran out to my car to strap in Baby X.
And then the inevitable happened.
Baby X spit up on me. All over my nice (read clean and previously unstained) shirt.

What was I thinking?

I'm a Genious!!

Ok, so I know I'm totally not a genious, but hey... I'm feeling like it right now. Why? Because look over on the right! See that? There are links! Links to other blogs I procrastinate with! Links that I put there All By Myself!!
Woo-hoo!

Ick! I Forever Don't..........

There are some commercials that are just so damn annoying they make your skin crawl everytime they air.
Even Dog X has a few that make him howl- literally. Sleep Country USA never fails to turn him into a raging Haller Monkey.
For me, ok there are a lot, but the one that's really annoying me right now is that one stupid jeweler commercial where the guy has his wife in some courtyard and tells her he'd marry her all over again and then she realizes that oh!, her whole family is there and wow he really means it. Awww..... how sweet, right? Yack! And the tagline? This year, tell her you forever do. Because really, the first time you said 'I do' you added 'for the next 3-5 years or until I get really bored' right?
Telling her that you weren't serious before but now that you've had a couple kids and you see nothing else is coming along? Ahh, what the hell honey, "I forever do!"
Couldn't they come up with something better?
Like.........
This year, tell her you're even for using her irish linen she inherited from her great-grandmother to clean your greasy tools at work.
Or.....
This year, make up for shrinking all her best clothes because you can't read labels.
*side note* I've pretty much forgiven Mr X by now for the above and he's vowed to never touch my wash again.*

I do love that Diet cherry vanilla Dr pepper commercial though. Where the woman is on a date and he's rambling on and she just starts singing that Manamana song. Love that. I wander through my day singing that in my head and only occasionally out loud.

It's a BOY!!

Every day the sun will rise and set, the tide will ebb and flow, some politician somewhere will say something stupid. And without fail, each week I will have the following conversation...........

Some random stranger- "What a beautiful little girl you have!"

Me- "Boy"

SRS- "Boy what?"

Me- "He's a boy."

SRS- "Really?"

What the hell is that?? Like, maybe I've been mistaken for the past 11 months and that's not a penis? Am I now supposed to take off his diaper to prove it to you? Because that's not going to happen.
I don't really care that they think he's a girl (Even though he's dressed in blue covered in airplanes and I'm calling him by his very boy-only name), it's that they argue with me about it.













Does he really look like a girl to you???

November is a special month

I'd like to interupt my usual posting to take a moment and explain why November is so special to me.
November is Prematurity Awareness month.
Prematurity is the #1 killer of newborns. Each year nearly half a million babies must struggle for survival because they were born too soon.
It can happen to anyone. There is no rhyme or reason. The costs, both financially and emotionally, are extraordinary.
So what can you do?
Visit www.marchofdimes.com . Right on the front page is a little notice that medimmune will donate $1 everytime someone clicks on the link. It will only take you a moment. It won't cost you a thing. If you feel brave, read some of the information they have, or even more brave, some of the stories.
If you're really feeling generous, donate to one the many bands on the site made in honor of or in memory of a very special baby. Or make one of your own. http://www.marchofdimes.com/prematurity/how_help_srch_res.asp

How to Bathe your Mobile Baby

It's time for another episode of "what the hell have I gotten myself in too?"
Bath time. Ah yes, good times. Good times.
We haven't really done bath time since Baby X was 6 weeks old and I thought, 'Hey bath time! That's fun! Let's do it.' The instant the water touched his skin he screamed so loud and shrilly the dogs on our block began to howl! Yeah. So. Bath time was just not going to happen like that again, because really, I love to be able to hear. And by that I mean hear something other than the ringing that lasted for several hours after the bath.
Why don't I remember this from when Girl X was a baby? Because when she was that small I made her take showers with me because even then, I liked to be able to hear. By the time she was to big to hold in the shower, she was cubby enough not to feel arctic during baths.
So, for 11 months Baby x has taken a shower, and loved it. At first it was with me because he was tiny and Mr X was terrified of holding anyone so tiny and breakable. The first time in the shower, he fell asleep. I'm washing his hair, and he fell asleep. Awwwww..... At least it was 'Awwww' until I took him out of the shower and wrapped him in a towel.
When he got to big for me to hold, Mr X took him in with him. It worked well for us. Baby X got clean and we kept our hearing.
But he is nearly 11 months old. So..... bath time. Right?
Uh-huh.

Step 1- Gather all bathing supplies. Tub, washcloth, towel, hand towel (for your knees when you're kneeling on the floor begging baby to please not throw the ducky at you again), baby wash and toys.
Step 2- after sticking baby tub to bottom of big tub, fill with mildly warm water and toys. Announce to Baby X that it's bath time.
Step 3- Pull Baby X out from underneath your bed where he went to hide upon hearing the words 'bath' and 'time' spoken in reference to him. See Cat laughing at you. Remind yourself to set Baby X loose on him later.
Step 4- attempt to undress Baby X. *Refer to How To Dress Your Mobile Baby- and imagine it in reverse. October archives, 'shake it off'*
Step 5- Call for help from Mr X.
Step 6- 20 minutes have passed before you can get Baby X undressed and the water is now cold. Empty tub and refill with warm water.
Step 7- track down Baby X in your room. Grin evilly when you notice he is sitting on Cat. Payback is a bare baby butt on your head.
Step 8- After placing Baby in the tub, sitting upright in the seat, hand him a rubber ducky which he promptly throws at your head. And then laughs hysterically.
Step 9- After foolishly giving back the ducky, 9 times, realize you aren't going to win and remove the ducky from his reach.
Step 10- Wet Baby's hair with a cup. Tell him to stop trying to drink the bath water. Giggle when he manages to lift one eyebrow at you ala The Rock.
Step 11- Wash hair. Work up such a good lather that it becomes imperative to shape Baby X's hair into various hair-dos. Horns, spikes, side waves and a mohawk. Rock on little dude!
Step 12- Take washcloth and begin to try to wash Baby.
Step 13- Pry washcloth from baby X's hand and wash arm.
Step 14- Repeat step 13 until all parts have been washed.
Step 15- Sputter as baby X figures out that slamming his hands down makes the water go everywhere. Like in your face and mouth.
Step 16- In a desperate attempt to get Baby X to stop splashing, return rubber ducky.
Step 17- Quickly begin to rinse Baby X, dodging the flying duck as you go.
Step 18- Sigh and resign yourself to getting soaked when Baby X learns it's fun to slam the Ducky into the water and really make mommy wet.
Step 19- Lift Baby X from the water and wrap up into a big fluffy towel.
Step 20- Giggle at his monster face and grab a towel to dry yourself off a bit as well.
Step 21- Refer to *How to Change/Dress Your Mobile Baby*
Step 22- Pass Baby X to Mr X and pass out from sheer exhaustion and swear that you are never doing that again.


30 minutes prep time (includes undressing the monster), 30 minutes to dry both of you and get him dressed, 10 minutes to clean up. All for the 2 minutes it actually took me to wash him.

Because he can........

It's been a busy weekend/ first half of the week. And it's only going to bet busier.
We had a Halloween party for the kids and some of the Girl's friends. We had a blast. I already made a post about it but I guess Blogger was hungry because *poof* it's gone. Damn Blogger. Anyway, the party just reminded me I'm lucky. I married the kind of guy I'd always hoped to find. He dressed up like Dr I.B. Wicked and let the kids smell and touch some monsters parts. Ex: Mouse breath (parmesan cheese) and intestines (oily spaghetti).
Then Sunday Girl X fell out of bed. Well, she says fell. I think she must have been catapulted out of a dead sleep and landed on the giant IKEA cubby shelving thing we use for her toys. Don't worry, her face broke her fall. She was actually not to bad for most of the day. A little swollen but she could eat and still wanted to go to build-a-bear. She had been waiting all summer to go and had finally saved up enough money from chores to get exactly what she wanted.
Monday morning she came out and her upper lip was hanging over her bottom one. She couldn't eat and when she talked it was out of the corner of her mouth with her teeth clenched. Ouch.
Emergency dentist to the rescue. After assurances from Girl X that we hadn't in fact been beating her senseless with our copy of War and Peace, they took x-rays. She had knocked one of teeth so far back they had to pull it because it wasn't coming out on it's own. She also has extensive and severe tissue trauma. Ouch. She only cried a little at the novacaine and I know it must have burned so bad! She's one tough cookie. Good thing too. She's going to need that. Once the appointment was over she demanded that I take her to school. She wasn't missing her Halloween party for anything.
So if you made it this far, congratulations. Or thank you.
Oh, and the title of this post. Yeah.
It's over for me. I'm done. Might as well hand over what little pieces of sanity I had left.
Baby X has learned the magic word. 'No'.
"Baby X, don't bite the cat!" "Nooooo!"
"Baby X, get away from the cat with mommy's knitting needles." "No"
"Baby X, don't eat the dog food" "NOOOO"
"Baby X, it's time for a nap" "NNOOOOO"
"Baby X, can I have a kiss?" "NNNNOOOOO!!! Dada!"

Yeah, like Dada is going to rescue him. And pardon me bubba, but as the one who let you borrow my body for 9 months (and no vacating it a few weeks early doesn't make us even) I get to kiss you any time I please.

His answer to everything now is 'no'. Not because he always actually means 'no'. It's just because he can. And as with every new thing he learns, he must do it frequently and at persistently louder levels.

And at 3 am.