Now that Avery is mobile, bath time is much more hectic. Tonight's events:
1. blocked the faucet so she didn't scalp herself on it while she stood up underneath it (note to self--need to buy one of those little rubber duckies that cover the faucet).
2. Avery pulled up on the side of the tub about 20 times. Two of those times, she let go with both hands. One of those times, she went pee.
3. While Avery was lying on her back in the water and I was rinsing her hair, she decided she didn't want to be on her back anymore and rolled over. Boy, was she surprised.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Elliot
Last Friday Elliot brought home a book from the school library--a book about the New England Patriots. Matt and I teased him about getting a book about the Pats. This morning, he was reading the book while eating breakfast and he started laughing. "Look, Mom, the Patriots lost to the Giants in this game 17-14. That's why I got this book--to read about when they lose, not about when they win." That's our boy!!
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Sidekick
Matt wants a new cell phone. He wants a full keyboard, so he can text. We have T-Mobile and our options are limited. Those options have been narrowed down--a Gravity (the one I have and Matt hates it), a Blackberry (he won't even consider it), or a touch screen (out of our price range). We've been talking about cell phones for several months now. Randomly, one of us will search to see if we can find anything new.
Yesterday, I searched and found the Sidekick. It was only $50. I thought this was a phone he considered once before and I've decided that we should just shell out the $50 so he can have a new phone. I wanted to ask him what he thought about the phone. I forgot about it.
Tonight, we're lying in bed watching TV and a commercial for T-Mobile comes on. Aha!
Amanda: "Hey, do you want a sidekick?"
Matt: "A sidekick? Like a midget or something?"
I can't stop laughing.
Yesterday, I searched and found the Sidekick. It was only $50. I thought this was a phone he considered once before and I've decided that we should just shell out the $50 so he can have a new phone. I wanted to ask him what he thought about the phone. I forgot about it.
Tonight, we're lying in bed watching TV and a commercial for T-Mobile comes on. Aha!
Amanda: "Hey, do you want a sidekick?"
Matt: "A sidekick? Like a midget or something?"
I can't stop laughing.
Last night
The baby's yelling. Not crying. Yelling. That means she's standing in her bed wanting someone to get her out of it. I sit up so I can see the clock on Matt's side of the bed (I can't see over him when he's lying on his side). It's 4:30. Maybe she'll lay herself back down. Guess not. She's still yelling. I nudge Matt's foot. "Go lay her back down," I tell him. No movement. I nudge him again. "Stop," he responds. I ask him to go lay the baby back down and he tells me to do it. Grrr! I get up and lay the baby back down. Now, she's screaming. I get back in bed, lie on my left side (this is important later) and put a pillow over my head. She's already standing back up. I can tell by the cry. Maybe Matt will get up and lay her back down now. Guess not. Now I have to pee. Maybe she needs Tylenol. I think she's teething. I didn't give her any before bed. Sigh.
I get up and go downstairs, stop at the bathroom on the way, and grab her Tylenol from the kitchen. I measure it in the kitchen so I don't have to turn the light on in her bedroom. I walk into Avery's room and she's standing in her bed. I try to give her the medicine while she's standing in her bed, but it's hard to hit a moving target in the dark. I pick her up and she stops screaming. I give her the Tylenol, lay her back down and walk out. She's screaming again. I climb back in bed, lying on my right side this time. I put the same pillow over my head. There's no more screaming. For a moment I think to myself, "damn, this pillow is sound proof." Then, I remember that it wasn't sound proof when I did this a few minutes ago. Now, I think, "Oh man, am I deaf in my left ear?" I'm really concerned about my sudden deafness. I raise the pillow off my head and lift up so my right ear (the non-deaf one) isn't smooshed into the bed. Oh, I'm not deaf after all. She really stopped crying. Just like that.
Hmmm...now begins the inner dialogue. "I hope something's not wrong with her. What if something's wrong with her. There's nothing wrong. She just went back to sleep. But it was so sudden. Maybe I should check on her. Then, I'll wake her up if she's really just asleep. I'm sure she's fine. I can't sleep on this side. Why did I lie on this side? I need to roll over. Groan. That'll take too much effort." I roll over to the left side again. "I can't sleep like this either. I need to be more on my stomach. I can't lie on my stomach, cause I'm engorged." Sigh. Now, I'm narrating this whole story in my head. "Stop! Turn it off. There is no audience at 4:30 in the morning. Stop narrating. Go to sleep." I look at the clock again. "Five o'clock! I have to get up in 45 minutes. Clear your mind, Amanda. Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep..."
I get up and go downstairs, stop at the bathroom on the way, and grab her Tylenol from the kitchen. I measure it in the kitchen so I don't have to turn the light on in her bedroom. I walk into Avery's room and she's standing in her bed. I try to give her the medicine while she's standing in her bed, but it's hard to hit a moving target in the dark. I pick her up and she stops screaming. I give her the Tylenol, lay her back down and walk out. She's screaming again. I climb back in bed, lying on my right side this time. I put the same pillow over my head. There's no more screaming. For a moment I think to myself, "damn, this pillow is sound proof." Then, I remember that it wasn't sound proof when I did this a few minutes ago. Now, I think, "Oh man, am I deaf in my left ear?" I'm really concerned about my sudden deafness. I raise the pillow off my head and lift up so my right ear (the non-deaf one) isn't smooshed into the bed. Oh, I'm not deaf after all. She really stopped crying. Just like that.
Hmmm...now begins the inner dialogue. "I hope something's not wrong with her. What if something's wrong with her. There's nothing wrong. She just went back to sleep. But it was so sudden. Maybe I should check on her. Then, I'll wake her up if she's really just asleep. I'm sure she's fine. I can't sleep on this side. Why did I lie on this side? I need to roll over. Groan. That'll take too much effort." I roll over to the left side again. "I can't sleep like this either. I need to be more on my stomach. I can't lie on my stomach, cause I'm engorged." Sigh. Now, I'm narrating this whole story in my head. "Stop! Turn it off. There is no audience at 4:30 in the morning. Stop narrating. Go to sleep." I look at the clock again. "Five o'clock! I have to get up in 45 minutes. Clear your mind, Amanda. Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep..."
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
The Breach
The babies have just finished breakfast--oatmeal and fruit. I clean them up and set them on the floor to play while I clean up the breakfast mess. Avery has scoot-crawled (one knee under her in classic crawl mode while the other is out to the side so she can use her foot to propel herself forward) to the toy bins in the corner of the room. Ethan is chewing on a plush bear rattle.
I come over to play with the babies before nap time, but find as a draw closer that a foul odor permeates the air. It's Ethan. Holy stinky! Ethan and I discuss the stinkiness of his pants. He admonishes me for mocking this natural body function and I agree that I should not be so rude. All the while, I'm preparing him for diaper changing. I've laid him on the rug, placed a water-proof changing pad under his bum and grabbed the diaper change bucket. The diaper change bucket holds all of the necessary supplies for each of the babies--diapers, wipes, changing pads, sanitizer, and diaper creams.
I'm seated on the floor at the stinky end of the baby, left leg folded in front of me while the right is stretched out along side him. I pull his pants off and toss them to the side (still conversing about the natural process of moving one's bowels). I reach for the leg and my hand lands in something squishy. This draws my eyes away from Ethan's face to find that his left leg is green. I look over at the pants sitting on the rug and realize that the green is oozing out of them, as well. I move them to the wood floor, as this will be easier to clean. I use a dozen or more wipes to get him cleaned up. I pile all the clothes on the floor. Avery has decided that we must be having a lot of fun because mommy's saying things like, "wow", "oh man", "what on earth". She's come over to investigate. She tries to pull the changing pad out from under Ethan. I tell her "no", a word that has been used 200% more often in the past 3 days (since she learned the scoot-crawl).
Once Ethan is wiped down and in a clean diaper, I bag up the dirty clothes, put the changing pad in the laundry, double bag the diaper and wipes, clean up the floor and put clean clothes on him. I scrub my hands and return to the rug to read books to the babies, as it's now nap time. Then, I remember that I have to change Avery. Luckily, she's just wet. I put the babies to bed and come back downstairs.
I dump the dirty clothes in the toilet, while I sort my laundry in order to wash a full load. I get the whites in the washer, pour in the detergent, vinegar and lemon juice. The washer is set to "hot" and "heavy" (that makes me giggle). I return to the bathroom with rubber gloves and the "dirty" bucket (marked with X's, so that it is used for jobs such as this and not to wash baby toys). The clothes are rinsed and wrung and placed in the bucket. I'm pretty sure that I've gotten everything out, but can't see because the water is now green. The white onesie and socks go in the washer with the rest of the whites. I scrub my gloved hands in the kitchen sink, remove the gloves and scrub my hands. Now that all is clean and I've had my hands in water so long I have to use the bathroom. As I finish in the bathroom I cast a glance in the mirror and "what's that?" I've got poo smudged across the front of my fleece. Ugh!
I come over to play with the babies before nap time, but find as a draw closer that a foul odor permeates the air. It's Ethan. Holy stinky! Ethan and I discuss the stinkiness of his pants. He admonishes me for mocking this natural body function and I agree that I should not be so rude. All the while, I'm preparing him for diaper changing. I've laid him on the rug, placed a water-proof changing pad under his bum and grabbed the diaper change bucket. The diaper change bucket holds all of the necessary supplies for each of the babies--diapers, wipes, changing pads, sanitizer, and diaper creams.
I'm seated on the floor at the stinky end of the baby, left leg folded in front of me while the right is stretched out along side him. I pull his pants off and toss them to the side (still conversing about the natural process of moving one's bowels). I reach for the leg and my hand lands in something squishy. This draws my eyes away from Ethan's face to find that his left leg is green. I look over at the pants sitting on the rug and realize that the green is oozing out of them, as well. I move them to the wood floor, as this will be easier to clean. I use a dozen or more wipes to get him cleaned up. I pile all the clothes on the floor. Avery has decided that we must be having a lot of fun because mommy's saying things like, "wow", "oh man", "what on earth". She's come over to investigate. She tries to pull the changing pad out from under Ethan. I tell her "no", a word that has been used 200% more often in the past 3 days (since she learned the scoot-crawl).
Once Ethan is wiped down and in a clean diaper, I bag up the dirty clothes, put the changing pad in the laundry, double bag the diaper and wipes, clean up the floor and put clean clothes on him. I scrub my hands and return to the rug to read books to the babies, as it's now nap time. Then, I remember that I have to change Avery. Luckily, she's just wet. I put the babies to bed and come back downstairs.
I dump the dirty clothes in the toilet, while I sort my laundry in order to wash a full load. I get the whites in the washer, pour in the detergent, vinegar and lemon juice. The washer is set to "hot" and "heavy" (that makes me giggle). I return to the bathroom with rubber gloves and the "dirty" bucket (marked with X's, so that it is used for jobs such as this and not to wash baby toys). The clothes are rinsed and wrung and placed in the bucket. I'm pretty sure that I've gotten everything out, but can't see because the water is now green. The white onesie and socks go in the washer with the rest of the whites. I scrub my gloved hands in the kitchen sink, remove the gloves and scrub my hands. Now that all is clean and I've had my hands in water so long I have to use the bathroom. As I finish in the bathroom I cast a glance in the mirror and "what's that?" I've got poo smudged across the front of my fleece. Ugh!
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Genius
In an effort to be more Earth-friendly, I've been using white vinegar to clean my house for about a year. Last week, I used baking soda to clean the shower and tub for the first time. I was fairly impressed. The tile spiffed right up. I did have a hard time finding a good way to get the baking soda onto the scrub brush. When I tried to sprinkle the baking soda big clumps plopped out into the bathtub. Then, I'd have to pick up the big clump and try to set it on my scrub brush and quickly pound it against the wall of the shower without dropping it. I decided that I needed a container that would allow me to sprinkle it...like the Comet containers. A couple days later, we emptied a container of grated Parmesan cheese. Aha! Here was my container. I washed it out and poured my baking soda in, labeled it and put it away with the other cleaners. I'm so smart!
Now, there was one particular spot that the baking soda did not remove. Under the old non-slip bath mat (which was replaced during that recent baking soda cleaning), was a dark stain that would not come off. I decided that I would try another trick that I've read about...lemon juice and salt. I bought my lemon a week ago and it's been sitting with the other citrus fruits that are slowly rotting on my kitchen table--no one in my family will eat Grapefruit or nectarines except me and I'm not even that inspired.
All week, as I've been reminding myself that I need to test out the lemon and salt on the bathtub (Yes, I'm a procrastinator), I've been trying to think of some brilliant container to hold the salt. After all, I don't want to take the whole container up there. It would be nice to have some other smaller container--like my Parmesan cheese/baking soda idea (remember, I'm feeling very smart). So, for a week, these thoughts have been bouncing around in my head (did I mention that I'm a terrible procrastinator?).
This morning I realized that my genius has been out done. For some other brilliant person has already come up with a small container to hold salt...a container that has small holes that would allow a person to shake small portions of salt. It's called a salt shaker! Honestly, it took me a week to realize that! So, who's feeling smart now?
Now, there was one particular spot that the baking soda did not remove. Under the old non-slip bath mat (which was replaced during that recent baking soda cleaning), was a dark stain that would not come off. I decided that I would try another trick that I've read about...lemon juice and salt. I bought my lemon a week ago and it's been sitting with the other citrus fruits that are slowly rotting on my kitchen table--no one in my family will eat Grapefruit or nectarines except me and I'm not even that inspired.
All week, as I've been reminding myself that I need to test out the lemon and salt on the bathtub (Yes, I'm a procrastinator), I've been trying to think of some brilliant container to hold the salt. After all, I don't want to take the whole container up there. It would be nice to have some other smaller container--like my Parmesan cheese/baking soda idea (remember, I'm feeling very smart). So, for a week, these thoughts have been bouncing around in my head (did I mention that I'm a terrible procrastinator?).
This morning I realized that my genius has been out done. For some other brilliant person has already come up with a small container to hold salt...a container that has small holes that would allow a person to shake small portions of salt. It's called a salt shaker! Honestly, it took me a week to realize that! So, who's feeling smart now?
Friday, January 8, 2010
Shhhh....Turn That Light Off...Sorry!
For the sake of my husband, I must aplogize and clarify that I do not think my husband is a jerk. My reference in my earlier blog "The Morning" was to reinforce my unwillingness to wake up earlier than was absolutely necessary. Perhaps a little background information is required here.
Matt is one of those people who wakes before the alarm clock goes off and rises immediately. From the moment that his feet hit the floor he is ready for the day to begin. He's all too happy to have lights blazing and start a conversation with anyone who also happens to be awake.
Unfortunately, that person is me. Don't get me wrong. I love my husband dearly. He has many fine qualities and his morning disposition would be considered highly desirable by most. However, I am of the breed that takes a little more time to get my chipper on. Where he wakes before the alarm, I'm more likely to press snooze multiple times. In fact, I've been known to walk fully across the bedroom, turn the alarm clock off and return to bed, never remembering that any such thing occurred. While my husband is ready to start the day right away, I require time to adjust. I require time, quiet and darkness. Yes, these are all the elements that were present while I was sleeping, but I need each to stick with me for a bit longer until I'm ready to face the day.
So, when the light from the bathroom trespasses my eyelids before I've even had the chance to hit the snooze button, I bury myself under my pillows and blankets looking for reprieve and mentally curse the person who would cause me such distress, even if it's the one person I love most in the world.
I must also retract my statement about Matt not telling me goodbye before he left for work. He says that he kissed me on the head and told me goodbye. Evidently, I really did sleep that extra three minutes.
Love you, honey!
Matt is one of those people who wakes before the alarm clock goes off and rises immediately. From the moment that his feet hit the floor he is ready for the day to begin. He's all too happy to have lights blazing and start a conversation with anyone who also happens to be awake.
Unfortunately, that person is me. Don't get me wrong. I love my husband dearly. He has many fine qualities and his morning disposition would be considered highly desirable by most. However, I am of the breed that takes a little more time to get my chipper on. Where he wakes before the alarm, I'm more likely to press snooze multiple times. In fact, I've been known to walk fully across the bedroom, turn the alarm clock off and return to bed, never remembering that any such thing occurred. While my husband is ready to start the day right away, I require time to adjust. I require time, quiet and darkness. Yes, these are all the elements that were present while I was sleeping, but I need each to stick with me for a bit longer until I'm ready to face the day.
So, when the light from the bathroom trespasses my eyelids before I've even had the chance to hit the snooze button, I bury myself under my pillows and blankets looking for reprieve and mentally curse the person who would cause me such distress, even if it's the one person I love most in the world.
I must also retract my statement about Matt not telling me goodbye before he left for work. He says that he kissed me on the head and told me goodbye. Evidently, I really did sleep that extra three minutes.
Love you, honey!
Recipe
Microwave Egg
For hard yolk: butter the bottom of a glass bowl or coat with cooking spray. Break egg into bowl. Break the yolk. Cover the bowl with a paper towel and microwave on high 40 seconds. If the egg pops before 40 seconds, it's done.
For soft yolk: follow directions above, but do not break the yolk and microwave only 35 seconds.
For hard yolk: butter the bottom of a glass bowl or coat with cooking spray. Break egg into bowl. Break the yolk. Cover the bowl with a paper towel and microwave on high 40 seconds. If the egg pops before 40 seconds, it's done.
For soft yolk: follow directions above, but do not break the yolk and microwave only 35 seconds.
items of concern and why they shouldn't be
So, this started out as a listing of the things that are frustrating me lately. Then, I decided that it sounded like I was a bit ungrateful...so I decided to find the silver lining in each item. I'm feeling much better now!
- I've taken up running very recently and every part of my body from my knees down is aching. Should I be concerned or is this just part of the normalness of running? The good news is that I'm running and mostly enjoying it! Also, I've gotten several of my girlfriends to join me at the gym too, which makes it that much more enjoyable.
- Elliot hasn't gotten a seasonal flu shot or his second round of H1N1. When we attempted to get his seasonal at Avery's last checkup, he flat out refused. What do you do with that, short of tackling and sitting on him while the nurse gives him the shot? I even tried bribing him with McDonalds. We're supposed to make a second attempt at her next appt later this month. This time, I'm walking out of the room and leaving it to the dr. office staff to tackle and sit on him. The question is, should I forewarn him or let him be surprised? Hmmm... The good news is that he hasn't gotten the flu. He's been pretty healthy this year (knock on wood).
- In lieu of a party for Elliot's birthday, we do something special with him and let him bring a friend along. This year, he chose to go to a Pacer game. Here is the concern: the Pacer game was only an option because he received a certificate for BOGO tickets through a contest at school. I failed to send the order form in by the due date :( I'm hoping that since the Pacers aren't exactly selling out games these days and that we upgraded the two free tickets in addition to purchasing two tickets that they will let us do it anyway. The up-side is that we have a plan B. If we can't go to the Pacer game, we'll go see the Globetrotters. I hope that the Globetrotters don't sell out.
- Why, oh why do I have this stupid skin issue on my ring finger? It won't go away. My dr. thinks it's a metal allergy. I've been wearing these rings for 13 years and now I'm allergic to them? I can't wear them and it makes me sad...and I think Matt's a bit peeved too. The good news is that Matt and I have been married 11 years. I'm so lucky to have such a wonderful husband. The rings do not make the marriage.
- The garbage disposal is not working, the shed doors are falling off, the shower in the master bath is leaking, the basement is still not finished, we don't have enough furniture in the basement for the family to sit down to watch TV, the living room is in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint, and so on... Um, hello! We have a house. We have heat and mostly working appliances. We still have one working shower. The basement, while not completely finished is at least liveable.
- I'm sick of wearing sweat pants everyday, but my jeans still don't fit comfortably. This week, I was asked by a 4-year old why I was wearing pajamas. Talk about a blow to the self-esteem. The good news is that I get to stay home with my baby and she doesn't care what I wear!
Thursday, January 7, 2010
The morning
It's still dark and Matt is awake and has the bathroom light on, which is flooding into my eyes, despite my best efforts to keep them closed. Crap, I guess I have to get up soon. I'll just wait for my alarm to go off. No sense in getting up before I really have to. The alarm is not going off. Why? Did I not set it right? What time is it? 5:42. No wonder. I don't have to get up for another 3 minutes. I ponder what a jerk my husband is for waking me before I'm supposed to be awake. Then I roll over and put a pillow over my eyes, as though the next 3 minutes will provide me with quality slumber. The alarm goes off. Matt has already left the bedroom. I can hear that he's already woken Elliot. I flip on the TV and listen to Chuck Lofton tell me that the map of Indiana is covered in blue because we're expecting 3-6 inches of snow today. As it's been snowing for 3 hours already (Chuck told me this too), I watch the school closings scroll across the bottom of the screen. St. Monica is not closed. I'm not surprised. I climb out of bed and start my morning routine. Turn water on in the sink to hot and let it run while I put my hair up, brush my teeth and get dressed. When I get ready to wash my face, the water is luke warm. By the time I've finished lathering my face the water is toasty. I'm a happy girl! Then, of course, comes the beautification...astringent (because at 32, my face still breaks out), Oil of Olay (because I'm 32), then minimal makeup because I'm staying home with two babies today, but one never knows if the people from Publisher's Clearing House might show up on my doorstep and I would like to look presentable for the camera. Of course, I never participate in the Publisher's Clearing House, so it's fairly certain that they won't show up. Jerks! I make the bed and consider putting away the laundry that's folded in the laundry basket on the chair, but decide that I'll do it later.
I come downstairs to find that Matt's already left. What, no goodbye, no hug and kiss? Probably his boots got wet when he shoveled the driveway and he didn't want to track through the house to come upstairs to tell me goodbye and since the baby is still sleeping he couldn't yell to me. Bye, honey. Elliot informs me that he has eaten a cereal bar and is still hungry. He wants waffles, but can't find them. I start for the basement, which is where I usually keep the frozen waffles. Elliot informs me that they're not down there. Daddy already checked and then yells at me for standing with the basement door open because the cat is sitting there. I shut the door quickly as the cat has been banished to the basement for the naughty business that she's been doing on the carpet upstairs. Elliot assures me that he's fed the cat despite the fact that she was sitting next to her empty food dish looking at me.
Now, where are the waffles? He's right. They're not downstairs. They're not in the freezer in the garage and they're not in the freezer in the kitchen (seriously, I've got 3 freezers). Now, I'm ticked off. I know I bought a case of waffles the last time I went to Sam's Club. I remember buying them. What happened to them? Did I leave them in the cart? Leave them in the back of the van? Surely not, I would have noticed them by now. Where could they be? I'm slightly perterbed. I offer Elliot and egg instead. Matt, in a moment of recent brilliance, introduced us to the microwave egg. Fourty seconds in the microwave and bam, a nicely cooked egg! Much less mess than dealing with a frying pan and they come out in a perfect circle, perfect for an English muffin. Except we're out of English muffins, so I put Elliot's on piece of toast cut in half instead. I make one for myself using 12 grain bread instead of white. I'm trying to be healthier, you know. Midway through, Elliot asks for some orange juice, which I also decide sounds perfect with the egg sandwich.
I send Elliot upstairs to make his bed and brush his teeth. In the meantime, I unload the dishwasher. When he comes back down, it's quarter of seven. I read him a chapter from the first Narnia Book. He's participating in a reading program for school in which he charts the number of minutes that he reads or is read to each day. If he logs 1200 minutes, he is entered into a contest to win a $1000 savings bond. Although, I know our odds aren't good, Elliot is highly competitive and this contest affords the perfect opportunity for me to encourage him to read more. In fact, I've not had to encourage him at all. I find him reading all the time the last few days. I'm really enjoying the Narnia book, so I'm pretty motivated to read to him, as well. In fact, I find it difficult not to read the book while he's at school.
We finish the chapter at 7:00, I send Elliot to get his coat on. I start quizzing him on his spelling words before I remember that he has a religion test today. I pull the religion book out of his book bag and quiz him on chapter 5 instead. Elliot's answer to how the Holy Spirit helps us...to make us be good. I'm pretty sure this is not a great answer and since I don't know the answer myself, I start flipping through the chapter for more information. Aha! The Holy Spirit provides us with courage and faith. I explain this to Elliot and tell him that there are a lot of people in the world who aren't Catholic, who don't like Catholics, or who don't believe in God at all. I tell him that the Holy Spirit gives us the courage and faith to stand up for what we believe. Elliot responds that he would just punch those people in the face. I'm pretty sure that's not what Jesus wants us to do. I try to explain this as well, but to no avail. He just keeps coming up with other ways that he would hurt these people. I sit on the stairs to start putting my boots on because I've realized that the driveway is covered in snow again. Elliot's ride shows up and he leaves while I'm tying my boots. I sweep the snow off the drive and sidewalk.
Back inside, I find that it's 7:23. I have 7 minutes before I need to wake up the baby to keep her on schedule. I pour a cup of coffee and sit down with the sudoku book that I bought for Elliot. Mostly, I do them and sometimes he helps me. I look row by row and column by column, plugging in three more numbers. It's 7:30 and I need to wake the baby.
Avery, with her adorable self is all smiles when I wake her up. I nurse her in my bedroom while watching Chuck Lofton again. The Today show is not on because the local affiliate feels that we need constant coverage of the snow. Three reporters in different locations around the city report in on the snow in that area and how the traffic is moving. They look cold standing out there. I get Avery dressed and set her on my bedroom floor to play with some toys while I put the laundry away.
I balance the baby on my right hip, my nearly empty coffee cup looped around my left thumb and the empty laundry basket in my left hand as I head down the stairs, thinking all the way that it's probably not a good idea. Oh well. We all made it safe and sound. Avery sits on the rug to play with toys and ends up within seconds on her belly. She's become very adept at getting onto her hands and knees to reach for toys, but she hasn't figured out how to crawl so she just flops down on her belly. Then, she gets mad because she doesn't like to be on her belly. I've vowed (in my head, just at this moment) that I'm not going to pick her up anymore. She's got to figure this out. Instead, I lift her by the waist onto her knees and help her move toward her toys. Here, she ceremoniously flops to her belly again and starts yelling. I lift her hips over and over before she finally pushes herself up to a sitting position. Now she's too far away from the toys to reach them. So, she goes back to hands and knees to get to the toys and flops back on her belly. I pick her up and sit her down within reach of the toys.
While she plays I fold the laundry that came out of the dryer last night just before I went to the gym. While the car was warming up in the garage, I laid it flat so it wouldn't be wrinkled . I had another load that needed to be in the dryer and I knew that when I got home from the gym at 10pm I wouldn't want to deal with it. So, this morning I fold the laundry and refill the previously empty basket. Then, turn on the dryer to fluff the load that had gone in last night. I load the dishwasher of the pots and pans that did not fit in the dishwasher last night along with our breakfast dishes. I decide that I'm going to wait until after the babies have breakfast before I run it.
Avery's getting upset because she's on her belly once again. It's 8:30 now. Ethan should be arriving any time and Avery's ready for breakfast. I sit her in the booster seat and give her a spoon to chew on while I cut up her fruit. I bought canteloupe for her. It's not in the least bit ripe. It has no flavor and is rather hard. I figure she doesn't know the difference, so I cut it up into small pieces and dump them on her tray. Ethan arrives. I put him on the floor in front of Avery. They flirt with each other and I give him the "kitchen toys". The kitchen toys consist of two different sized plastic butter tubs, a small wooden spoon, a tupperware dish and an emptied onion powder container that I threw some paperclips in. The latter is a favorite. It's a great size for their little hands and makes a fun noise. In the meantime, I prepare Ethan's oatmeal. I have to put some more oats in the food processor because I'm almost out. He's just started on chunkier foods this week. I heat Avery's oatmeal. I made it earlier in the week and refrigerated small portions for her. I decide that I'm going to let her try to feed herself oatmeal this morning. I spoon feed Ethan, while I drop glops of oatmeal on Avery's tray. She has fun feeding herself and making a huge mess. When Ethan is finished, I clean him up and give him his spoon to play with while Avery finishes. I break out the video camera to capture the oatmeal mess. I try three times. Each time ending with her trying to pull her bib off. I turn off the camera and fix the bib each time. After the third time, I decide that she's done with the oatmeal. I clean her off and set her and Ethan on the floor to play and commence the great oatmeal cleanup.
Avery starts fussing. Big surprise, she's on her belly again. I continue to clean up the oatmeal until her fuss turns into a scream. Ethan's got a handful of Avery's hair. I pry his kung-fu grip out of her hair and sit her up again. She's not having it. I sit and play with the babies for a few minutes before I realize that it's 20 after 9:00. I change both babies' diapers and read them a few books. I carry them both up the stairs and put them to bed.
Back downstairs, I finish cleaning up the oatmeal, load the dishwasher and run it. I fold the laundry from the dryer, pick up the baby toys, and put the load of delicates that had been hanging up in the basement to dry into the dryer to fluff. I sit down to pump. I'm supposed to be giving the pump back to the person who lent it to me at the end of the month. I want to make sure I have some milk stored in the freezer. As I'm pumping, I'm telling myself the story of my morning and decide that today is the day that I will start the blog that I've been telling myself for months that I should start. While the laptop boots up, I fold the delicates. The laundry basket is filled to capacity, again. The babies sleep! Ethan has just woken, is drinking a bottle and pushing out a poo! Gotta run!
P.S. I remembered that I didn't buy waffles at Sam's. They've been out the past two times that I've gone. Maybe they're not carrying them anymore...
I come downstairs to find that Matt's already left. What, no goodbye, no hug and kiss? Probably his boots got wet when he shoveled the driveway and he didn't want to track through the house to come upstairs to tell me goodbye and since the baby is still sleeping he couldn't yell to me. Bye, honey. Elliot informs me that he has eaten a cereal bar and is still hungry. He wants waffles, but can't find them. I start for the basement, which is where I usually keep the frozen waffles. Elliot informs me that they're not down there. Daddy already checked and then yells at me for standing with the basement door open because the cat is sitting there. I shut the door quickly as the cat has been banished to the basement for the naughty business that she's been doing on the carpet upstairs. Elliot assures me that he's fed the cat despite the fact that she was sitting next to her empty food dish looking at me.
Now, where are the waffles? He's right. They're not downstairs. They're not in the freezer in the garage and they're not in the freezer in the kitchen (seriously, I've got 3 freezers). Now, I'm ticked off. I know I bought a case of waffles the last time I went to Sam's Club. I remember buying them. What happened to them? Did I leave them in the cart? Leave them in the back of the van? Surely not, I would have noticed them by now. Where could they be? I'm slightly perterbed. I offer Elliot and egg instead. Matt, in a moment of recent brilliance, introduced us to the microwave egg. Fourty seconds in the microwave and bam, a nicely cooked egg! Much less mess than dealing with a frying pan and they come out in a perfect circle, perfect for an English muffin. Except we're out of English muffins, so I put Elliot's on piece of toast cut in half instead. I make one for myself using 12 grain bread instead of white. I'm trying to be healthier, you know. Midway through, Elliot asks for some orange juice, which I also decide sounds perfect with the egg sandwich.
I send Elliot upstairs to make his bed and brush his teeth. In the meantime, I unload the dishwasher. When he comes back down, it's quarter of seven. I read him a chapter from the first Narnia Book. He's participating in a reading program for school in which he charts the number of minutes that he reads or is read to each day. If he logs 1200 minutes, he is entered into a contest to win a $1000 savings bond. Although, I know our odds aren't good, Elliot is highly competitive and this contest affords the perfect opportunity for me to encourage him to read more. In fact, I've not had to encourage him at all. I find him reading all the time the last few days. I'm really enjoying the Narnia book, so I'm pretty motivated to read to him, as well. In fact, I find it difficult not to read the book while he's at school.
We finish the chapter at 7:00, I send Elliot to get his coat on. I start quizzing him on his spelling words before I remember that he has a religion test today. I pull the religion book out of his book bag and quiz him on chapter 5 instead. Elliot's answer to how the Holy Spirit helps us...to make us be good. I'm pretty sure this is not a great answer and since I don't know the answer myself, I start flipping through the chapter for more information. Aha! The Holy Spirit provides us with courage and faith. I explain this to Elliot and tell him that there are a lot of people in the world who aren't Catholic, who don't like Catholics, or who don't believe in God at all. I tell him that the Holy Spirit gives us the courage and faith to stand up for what we believe. Elliot responds that he would just punch those people in the face. I'm pretty sure that's not what Jesus wants us to do. I try to explain this as well, but to no avail. He just keeps coming up with other ways that he would hurt these people. I sit on the stairs to start putting my boots on because I've realized that the driveway is covered in snow again. Elliot's ride shows up and he leaves while I'm tying my boots. I sweep the snow off the drive and sidewalk.
Back inside, I find that it's 7:23. I have 7 minutes before I need to wake up the baby to keep her on schedule. I pour a cup of coffee and sit down with the sudoku book that I bought for Elliot. Mostly, I do them and sometimes he helps me. I look row by row and column by column, plugging in three more numbers. It's 7:30 and I need to wake the baby.
Avery, with her adorable self is all smiles when I wake her up. I nurse her in my bedroom while watching Chuck Lofton again. The Today show is not on because the local affiliate feels that we need constant coverage of the snow. Three reporters in different locations around the city report in on the snow in that area and how the traffic is moving. They look cold standing out there. I get Avery dressed and set her on my bedroom floor to play with some toys while I put the laundry away.
I balance the baby on my right hip, my nearly empty coffee cup looped around my left thumb and the empty laundry basket in my left hand as I head down the stairs, thinking all the way that it's probably not a good idea. Oh well. We all made it safe and sound. Avery sits on the rug to play with toys and ends up within seconds on her belly. She's become very adept at getting onto her hands and knees to reach for toys, but she hasn't figured out how to crawl so she just flops down on her belly. Then, she gets mad because she doesn't like to be on her belly. I've vowed (in my head, just at this moment) that I'm not going to pick her up anymore. She's got to figure this out. Instead, I lift her by the waist onto her knees and help her move toward her toys. Here, she ceremoniously flops to her belly again and starts yelling. I lift her hips over and over before she finally pushes herself up to a sitting position. Now she's too far away from the toys to reach them. So, she goes back to hands and knees to get to the toys and flops back on her belly. I pick her up and sit her down within reach of the toys.
While she plays I fold the laundry that came out of the dryer last night just before I went to the gym. While the car was warming up in the garage, I laid it flat so it wouldn't be wrinkled . I had another load that needed to be in the dryer and I knew that when I got home from the gym at 10pm I wouldn't want to deal with it. So, this morning I fold the laundry and refill the previously empty basket. Then, turn on the dryer to fluff the load that had gone in last night. I load the dishwasher of the pots and pans that did not fit in the dishwasher last night along with our breakfast dishes. I decide that I'm going to wait until after the babies have breakfast before I run it.
Avery's getting upset because she's on her belly once again. It's 8:30 now. Ethan should be arriving any time and Avery's ready for breakfast. I sit her in the booster seat and give her a spoon to chew on while I cut up her fruit. I bought canteloupe for her. It's not in the least bit ripe. It has no flavor and is rather hard. I figure she doesn't know the difference, so I cut it up into small pieces and dump them on her tray. Ethan arrives. I put him on the floor in front of Avery. They flirt with each other and I give him the "kitchen toys". The kitchen toys consist of two different sized plastic butter tubs, a small wooden spoon, a tupperware dish and an emptied onion powder container that I threw some paperclips in. The latter is a favorite. It's a great size for their little hands and makes a fun noise. In the meantime, I prepare Ethan's oatmeal. I have to put some more oats in the food processor because I'm almost out. He's just started on chunkier foods this week. I heat Avery's oatmeal. I made it earlier in the week and refrigerated small portions for her. I decide that I'm going to let her try to feed herself oatmeal this morning. I spoon feed Ethan, while I drop glops of oatmeal on Avery's tray. She has fun feeding herself and making a huge mess. When Ethan is finished, I clean him up and give him his spoon to play with while Avery finishes. I break out the video camera to capture the oatmeal mess. I try three times. Each time ending with her trying to pull her bib off. I turn off the camera and fix the bib each time. After the third time, I decide that she's done with the oatmeal. I clean her off and set her and Ethan on the floor to play and commence the great oatmeal cleanup.
Avery starts fussing. Big surprise, she's on her belly again. I continue to clean up the oatmeal until her fuss turns into a scream. Ethan's got a handful of Avery's hair. I pry his kung-fu grip out of her hair and sit her up again. She's not having it. I sit and play with the babies for a few minutes before I realize that it's 20 after 9:00. I change both babies' diapers and read them a few books. I carry them both up the stairs and put them to bed.
Back downstairs, I finish cleaning up the oatmeal, load the dishwasher and run it. I fold the laundry from the dryer, pick up the baby toys, and put the load of delicates that had been hanging up in the basement to dry into the dryer to fluff. I sit down to pump. I'm supposed to be giving the pump back to the person who lent it to me at the end of the month. I want to make sure I have some milk stored in the freezer. As I'm pumping, I'm telling myself the story of my morning and decide that today is the day that I will start the blog that I've been telling myself for months that I should start. While the laptop boots up, I fold the delicates. The laundry basket is filled to capacity, again. The babies sleep! Ethan has just woken, is drinking a bottle and pushing out a poo! Gotta run!
P.S. I remembered that I didn't buy waffles at Sam's. They've been out the past two times that I've gone. Maybe they're not carrying them anymore...
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