Don't try this at home...

I totally forgot to put Alice's chair back on the floor after vacuuming one day. The thrill of having clear carpets must have gone to my head. As I walked past the living room, this is what I found. I had to admire her resourcefulness (notice how she uses a package of new sheets for a table) and her flexibility. I stood and watched for a while (actually quite a while). I was amazed that she thought this was actually a comfortable position for television viewing. Forget for a second my current state of pregnancy (which makes any kind of bendy position unthinkable), but I don't think I could of held this for any extended time during my regular yoga days. Hmmm....I wonder if Cirque du Soleil needs a toddler acrobat?

Poop, Poop Everywhere!

Two of the most important tools in my mommyhood arsenal are my steam cleaners. Yes, I have two: a Bissel Spotbot (small machine) and a Bissel Proheat (full sized). Of all the paraphernalia associated with bringing up children, these are the most valuable. Had I known what I know now, I would have placed them on my baby registry along with a pack mule.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I have cream colored carpet in my living room. This was the selection of the empty nesters from whom we purchased our home. It is beautiful carpet and was in such good shape it did not make sense to rip it up when we moved in. Then we had a child. Thanks to the steamers, the carpet has remained in good shape despite incidents such as the one that occurred Wednesday morning.

I was enjoying my breakfast and tea when Alice sauntered into the kitchen. Somehow she had managed to semi-tear her diaper off despite its duct tape reinforcement. The waist was intact but the sides were free. I laughed when I saw her come in with the diaper flapping between her legs. The laughter quickly died when I heard the dreaded words, “Mommy, poopie.” I ripped the diaper fully off and there was some brownish discoloration on the absorbent padding. The phrase “Oh, %&#!” exploded in my head. I darted into the living room to find a harbinger of doom to greet me- the pug licking her chops. I had walked into a poop crime scene. I found the pile of regurgitated poop a second later in front of the entertainment center along with a bunch of shitprints in all directions. Apparently, Alice stepped in the mess and then walked around the living room in her quest to find me. Whatever happened to the good old days when a trail of Cheerios and a vacuum pug told me where to look for Alice? Thank goodness I am no longer suffering from morning sickness because I would probably still be retching in the bathroom like a CSI rookie at a first crime scene.

In no time, the full sized steamer erased the evidence of the poop fest in my living room. Still, I will be much happier when we replace the carpet in a few years with something more practical. I am thinking something in the brown family.

But I Can’t Be Obsolete….

I do not recall being so stupid with my first pregnancy. Perhaps I was just too stupid to realize how dense I became. My husband thinks it is hysterical to have his formally smart wife turn into “fertility goddess” Barbie. I thought my blunder with the Afrin commercial was bad. I actually looked over at my husband on the couch and asked, “Why does that woman have a teddy bear head?” I was genuinely confused. I have walked into rooms only to forget why I went there. I have been unable to find things that are right in front of me, even when I have my glasses on. Yesterday morning, however, was the proverbial icing on the cake that I have seemed to misplace.

For Christmas John got me a purple Apple Nano. I was so excited to get it as my Dell Jukebox player is pretty obsolete by now. Because I have not been to the gym (per doctor’s orders) I am sad to say that yesterday morning was the first time I had to finally get it out of the box and get it started/registered. Time to fiddle with technology is not a luxury you get with a toddler underfoot. Anyway, I had some spare time as Alice was enthralled with Bob Bob Bobpants (how she refers to Spongebob Squarepants). I figured I should make sure the thing works. I am ashamed to admit it but I will own up to my “fertility goddess” Barbie moment- I couldn’t figure out how to open the damn box. In their quest for a beautiful packaging job, Apple had placed a large clear sticker on the end of the flip box that opened. There was no seam as there usually is indicating tape, so I did not realize that the sticker was even there. I thought the small arrow was giving me the direction I was supposed to turn the box to release its contents. No matter how much I struggled and pried the darn thing would not give. I almost broke out a hammer and chisel to get the blasted thing open. I could not face the prospect of going to the Apple store and confessing that I must have become so obsolete in the computer world that I cannot even open a box containing a new piece of equipment. Thankfully, I eventually realized it was a sticker. A quick peal and my Nano was in my hands. I think today I might download one of those mediation podcasts. Lord knows I need to relax after that “ordeal”.

The shit has hit the fan…thankfully not literally

Lately, Alice has begun to recognize when she needs to go #2. Initially, this made me pretty happy and proud (oh, how life has changed upon having a child). I thought it wonderful that she was learning her bodily signals and making those tentative first steps toward potty training. After all, when I consider what the cost of diapering two children would be, having one potty proficient would probably be a “good thing” to quote Martha Stewart. Who knew that this new recognition would prove to be so traumatic for the little one (and me)?

Take for instance last night at the diner. Alice, normally the Cookie Monster of French fries, spent the entire dinner crying because “I made a poopie.” I am not talking about whimpering here. I mean full- fledged shrieking complete with tears running down her face. My assurances of a change did nothing to assuage her upset. Since my dinner ruined by poopie, tears, and trauma, I decided to take her to the car while John settled the bill and packed up the food. No sense being the hated family in the diner. Upon changing her diaper, John discovered only two little poop pebbles. Still the crying continued. You would have thought she passed/was passing shards of glass. I shoveled the rest of my dinner into my gullet while Alice hung onto me screaming about “Poopie!” I figured that perhaps she was constipated—not something that happens often to my fruitaholic daughter. She did not even want fun bath time with Daddy. Apparently, if you are going to scream and be upset in the tub then only Mommy will do (gee, thanks honey).

Soaking in the warm water did nothing to improve her mood and just frazzled mine more. By the time books were read, child was rocked and put into her crib I was done. I went downstairs and said to John, “Go to Carvel. I need a hot fudge, vanilla soft serve sundae.” This is my pregnant glass of wine. While we were eating our ice cream, the monitor picked up some groaning about (you guessed it) POOPIE! Thankfully, she fell back asleep no doubt dreaming of little turds running amuck in some field, jumping over a fence and into a potty.

The next day there was no upset about bowel movements at all—even after she made some. Toddlers…too bad they don’t come with instructions.

Caught…by a Two Year Old…

Last week we had our new refrigerator delivered. Pre- delivery John and I made a concerted effort to use up much of the stuff in the fridge and freezer. We figured it would make it easier to empty out the old if there was less stuff to move before the new one arrived. I determined milk levels perfectly (yet another one of those abilities one acquires with children). Alice had enough milk to see her through to the delivery time as long as I kept her to her usual quota. My daughter, aka “The Dairy Whore”, however did not want to cooperate with my finally laid plan. The night before our delivery was due she stood before the refrigerator demanding, “Milk, more milk.”

Thankfully, Alice is not able to open the doors on her own, so I decided to use this lack of ability to my advantage. I calmly said to her, “Sorry Alice but we don’t have any more milk. I have to buy some tomorrow.” My rational parent brain knew I could not explain to a two year old that if she drank the milk that was in the fridge now she would not have any in the morning. Delayed gratification is not a forte among two year olds. With my lie now justified in my mind, I proceeded to get dinner on the table. Alice would not be deterred. She remained standing at her post now with her hand on the door handle. She demanded that I “open it” because “I saw it there.” I was stunned. Not only did she use a full sentence; not only did she show remarkable powers of observation, but she caught me in a lie. It is funny how one can be proud and ashamed all at the same time.

A girl and her dog....

Oftentimes I am taken aback by the relationship that has grown between Puggie Smalls, the Notorious P.U.G. and Alice. I have to admit to being a bit concerned while pregnant with Alice about how Puggie would react to a new member of the family. After all, Puggie was the only child for two years. She had all the attention and the run of the house. Also, since young children were not part of our social circle, she had never really been socialized around young little ones. I knew from the research I did when we were looking into the various breeds that pugs were great family dogs and good around children, but I was still concerned. Now, I watch the two of them interact and I laugh at how worried I was.

Every morning Alice and I snuggle in bed while I wake up. Actually I snuggle with the covers while Alice spends the time pulling my hair and doing her vocal practice of random words, letters and numbers. I know the time to drag my carcass out of bed has come when she happily shouts her first logical statement, “Puggie, pug, dog, puppy dog, puggie.” That said, she climbs out of bed, hands me my socks and slippers and runs to the alarm panel indicating that I should disarm it so we can go downstairs and start the day.

Before even drinking her milk, Alice rushes to the first floor bathroom to release Puggie from her crate. One of Alice’s happiest days was when she figured out the movement needed to unlatch the crate. As she pulls back the catch, Alice waves to her friend and says a cheerful “Hi!”. I then hear a giggle. Puggie is out and has given Alice a morning smooch. Puggie runs out to see me in the kitchen and Alice follows close behind with the dog’s collar. She hands me the collar and demands I put it on the dog. This task done Alice drinks some milk and presents me with the dog’s food bowl. There have been some attempts on Alice’ s part to fill the bowl herself. These tries have generally resulted in an entire bag of dog food on the floor, me stressed out trying to clean it up and Puggie trying to gorge herself. Alice, unfortunately, follows the dog’s example. Yes, my child, gourmand that she is, enjoys munching on Iams dry dog food. It is my own fault. Sometimes my “cleverness” gets the better of me. When Alice was much younger, she decided she wanted to eat the dog’s food. I decided to let her try it. I figured the disgusting taste would end her curiosity. No such luck. She found dog food quite delicious. Consequently, I now have to put the dog in her pen to feed her or Alice sits next to her and steals the kibble out from under the poor dog. After the dog eats, Alice then chases her around with a water bowl, admonishing her to “drink, drink.”

Once this morning routine is exhausted, the two sojourn to the living room for play, tomfoolery and whatnot. Alice has learned gentleness over the last few months in particular (much to the dog’s relief) and as a result, I find the dog seeking out Alice’s company more and more. There have been times she has even woken Alice up from a nap to play. I look forward to seeing how Puggie reacts when we bring #2 home now that she is a seasoned veteran. Most likely she will ignore the munchkin until solid foods are introduced and a new food source is born.

A Better Frame of Mind

I haven’t posted in the last few days. I just was not in the right frame of mind. A cartoon rendering of my thoughts would have included an ominous looking gray cloud along with symbols indicating expletives in the bubble over my head. I felt like posting a few times and detailing my litany of complaints ranging from an aching back to a sick dog, but I realized I didn’t want to write about them. No good would have really come of it. Sure, there are times when writing is wonderfully cathartic, but there are also times when it just perpetuates a bad mood. A posting over the last few days would have just done the later for me. Let’s face it--there are just days when motherhood (and impending motherhood) just plain sucks.

Dr. Seuss addresses this fact about life in his book “Oh The Places You’ll Go.” Had he written this book in relationship to motherhood, a line might have read something like this:
“I’m sorry to say so
But sadly it’s true
That teething toddlers, puking dogs, and leaking pipes on new refrigerators will happen to you.”

And, much like the good doctor explains in his book, there are times you just have to rise above it. Thankfully, many of the annoyances motherhood presents are finite although they may not seem so at the time. My advice- go to bed early. It ends the day and who knows, tomorrow just might be better. After all, as the old saying goes, “While there is breath there is hope.”

A Pleasant Morning and then Crime Struck…

I was a bit fearful when Monday rolled around and John went back to work after his vacation. I figured Alice would be a banshee without her beloved Daddy around full time. How happily surprised was I when she slipped right back into our former routine? Pregnancy mush brain must have hit me strongly that morning because I stupidly forgot certain aspects of our “former routine”. My defenses were slow as was my reaction time.

On the surface all seemed fine. Alice and Puggie played in the living room while I went through the house doing my usual stuff. Now that I think about it, I should have known they were up to something. The furtive glances in my direction; the hushed whispers; the camouflage. A heist was obviously going to go down.

As I put away holiday decorations and cleaned, Alice and her partner in crime, Puggie pilfered a bag of sweet potato chips from the kitchen. A long period of silence and deeply contented pug snorting forewarned me of potential disaster in the living room. All my senses were now sharp and alert; however, by the time I got there, all that was left were some miniscule crumbs and an empty chip bag. Puggie, with absolutely no remorse, blew her diet big time that morning. She was sent into solitary (her pen) with no breakfast and two bowls of water to counteract her increased sodium intake.

Don’t feel too badly for her. When I went to the basement to fold laundry, Alice sprung her associate from the “big house”. They remained on the lam until naptime.

Would you like a moment alone?

John and I were relaxing in the living room on Saturday night watching television. The pug's snores were particularly loud and content which made us curious enough to look for her. This is what we found. Puggie Smalls, the Notorious P.U.G. apparently decided to make Pooh her "special friend". Rest assured, there was no naughty business going on despite the way the photo looks. Puggie honestly was just sleeping on the stuffed toy, and thus, we witness the evidence of neutering and age.

My living room is here somewhere…

Let me start off by saying I am not a neat freak, although current nesting practices/freak outs might call that statement into question. For a while I think my husband John worried about staying in one place for too long for fear I would clean him with bleach, find a better place for him elsewhere in the house or put him by the curb along with the recycling. I try to practice the adage, “My house is clean enough to be healthy and dirty enough to be happy.” At least, this was the case, and then Alice turned into a tornado…I mean toddler.

Sometimes I wander through the house wondering what the hell happened. I tidy things up and no sooner do I leave the room then it looks cluttered and messy again. For a while I thought mischievous fairies were at work. It seemed impossible that one toddler could cause such chaos but unfortunately that is the case. I don’t think there is a room in the house that does not bare her mark in the form of toys, discarded clothing, board books, and whatnot. I shower with rubber ducks and squirt toys. I eat with Spongebob Squarepants. I found pirate Pablo from the Backyardigans in my shoe the other day.

Thankfully the people who come to visit us have children too so they find our home (not necessarily the occupants) perfectly normal. Those who don’t have kids probably view our home as a form of birth control. It is rather nice to know that our house after four years finally looks “lived in” and acts as a public service announcement.

Why I Should Start the Richard Drew and Johnson and Johnson Fan Club…

I was reminded of this as I tried to eat my whole wheat toast while it was still warm and drink my tea while it was still hot. The toast became a lost cause. Thankfully, the microwave made my first and only cup of “real” British Breakfast tea salvageable. Decaffeinated while better than nothing is really no substitute for the real thing. I had just taken my first bite of toast when Alice ran into the kitchen sans pajama pants. This would not be a big deal per se if she had not taken the diaper off along with them. Alice is not fully potty trained yet, so her walking about diaperless is akin to me playing a much less fatal version of Russian roulette with my carpets.

Unfortunately, as the wet spots on the cream colored carpet could attest, I was too late. On the bright side I was not too late to foil pug’s plans. She had just discovered the discarded diaper and was about to enjoy this tasty (?) delicacy when I entered the room. I could envision my toast hardening with cold and the butter congealing as I pulled out the portable steam cleaner and set it up to work its magic. Alice, now empty, was happily sitting on her potty.

With Alice once again covered, we headed to the kitchen for her “special tape”. Nowadays no diaper is complete without a strip of silver over the diaper’s adhesive tabs. So thank you Richard Drew and Johnson and Johnson for your work on perfecting duct tape. I raise my now tepid tea to you!

Happy New Year...resolutions

This Christmas I sent out our family newsletter- a chronicle of all the ways my two year old daughter is making me laugh or cry (depending on my hormone levels). My cousin Ellen called demanding I, at the very least, start a blog explaining that in this day an age we need more humorists.

Ellen- this one is for you....

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year Everyone!

I hope this letter finds you doing well. I usually try not to rely on the typed note, but writing, “I am pregnant” ad nauseum would probably make me nauseous. I am enjoying finally being over morning sickness too much to chance it. Yep, I am pregnant. I am sorry if I am repeating myself. Blame “mommy mush brain” for my forgetfulness. Cletus the Fetus, 2.0 is due to arrive around May 21, 2009. We decided not to find out the sex ahead of time. At the first ultrasound, the little one was kicking around so much that the technician could not get a good look to determine sex. John has to be out of town for the next ultrasound, so we decided that the fates and fetus have spoken. We did not find out with Alice and it was a great surprise. It was a great motivation to push after nine months of not knowing. Additionally, it has the side benefit of driving people crazy. Most folks simply don’t comprehend not finding out ahead of time. The silly side of me enjoys when people ask if it is a boy or girl and I reply, “Those are generally the two options.” Considering the list of things I can’t enjoy these days, I have to take my kicks where and when I can. Alice so far seems clueless about what is to come despite my growing belly, diminishing lap, and our repeated statements about her becoming a big sister. She will point to my stomach and say “baby”, but she now does that to hers too. I told her not until she is married and established in a good career or I will kill her…ha ha.

Alice turned 2 years old in August and has entered the “terrible twos”. Actually, they probably would not be too horrible if I could unwind in the evening with a glass of wine and a long soak in a steaming hot bath. More often than not I am trying not to laugh as I inform her that she should not give Cookie Monster a bath in the toilet and just because you can reach the chocolate stash does not mean you are having any for breakfast. Motherhood has caused me to utter sentences I never thought would exit my mouth such as “Alice, don’t chase the pug with a light saber/fork/plunger/Swifer sweeper.” Life is never boring that is for sure. Whenever people hear I have a girl, they get goofy smiles on their faces. I know they are imagining demure tea parties, dress up, and other girlie activities. While they get lost in their dreams, I recall the reality- Alice jumping off the furniture topless and beating her chest a la Tarzan (complete with the yell). She must have been a nudist in a past life for at any moment she will strip off her clothing. The diaper used to go too until I discovered yet another use for duct tape (I am not kidding). Wrestling, running and rock collecting are the norm. So far several of my toothbrushes have met with watery demises in the toilet and I have discovered that the magic eraser does take off crayon from wallpaper (along with the wall paper). Alice and Puggie spend their days playing, and I have to say Puggie should be canonized for what she puts up with. Alice loves to hug the dog but in doing so winds up wrestling her to the ground in her love and enthusiasm. The other day John walked in to find Alice walking the dog around the living room like a wheelbarrow. I guess Puggie works under the belief that any attention is better than none. She also realizes that Alice is a great food source so I am sure that helps the relationship.

I would love to write more, but I don’t want to bore you with the details. Also, Alice is beckoning me to the living room for Blue’s Clues. I am sure if Dante were writing The Divine Comedy today children’s programming would be one of the levels of hell.