Dillierama

Five minutes

It seems I'm always saying to Alex "Just give me five minutes Buddy, and I'll play with you" or "I just need five minutes before I can get you more juice"  A couple of days ago out of the blue he presented me with an impressive tower of Mega Blocks. 

"What is it?" I ask him
"It's five minutes"

He's been building and giving me "five minutes" a couple of times a day now.  Pretty soon, I'll have so much time I won't know what to do with it.

The second kid

When Alex was a baby he got brand new age approripate toys designed to stimulate his development which I disninfected in a bleach solution weekly.

Max has to make due with mismatched tupperware lids and any of the toys Alex isn't currently playing with after a cursory check for small parts and a few stray dog hairs picked off.

Don't let 'em see you quit

My newest post at Bodies in Motivation is up: 

http://www.bodiesinmotivation.com/2009/01/dont-let-em-see-you-quit/

Until I figure out a better way to update this site when I update that site, I'll just do this.

Josh and the Dream Killer

John and I went on a real live date last night.  Just the two of us, out on the town.  I can't even remember the last time we actually went out on a date.  LONG before Max was born at least.

We went to see Josh and the Dream Killer play at a local club.  It so happens we have an in with the band. James, the co-founder of the band is one of John's best friends.  Anyhow, they were great! I'd never had a chance to see their show before, and while I knew that James is an incredibly talented pianist, they still blew me away!  All but one song was original, and the one cover they played was Geto Boys "Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta" but they'd done it in their own unique style.  It was great to watch James get his Billy Joel on.  I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if they end up making it big one day. 

Suffice it to say, John and I had a great time.  It was nice to get out together, have a couple of drinks, enjoy some good music and reconnect as two adults rather than two parents wrangling a couple of wild howler monkeys.

Bodies in Motivation

Have you seen this site yet?  It was created by Linda (All & Sundry), who happens to be my all time favorite blogger, ever. 

Anyway, it's a great site.  So great that I wrote to Linda and said "Can I write for you?" and she said "Sure!"  and thus, Project Hot Mom has moved.  I am now blogging at Bodies in Motivation and I couldn't be more excited about it!

I debated whether to talk about that here.  After all, I know most of you who read this site, and over there I'm "getting naked" as it were.  I'm posting pictures (no, not naked pictures) and my weight and measurements and, I'm pretty sure I weigh as much as a few of you put together.  It's a scary thing to  know that you'll know.  But at the same time, you all have shown me nothing but encouragement and support in all of my PHM endeavors, so I'd be crazy not to ask for your support over there as well.

My first post went up yesterday and I received such a warm and friendly reception from the bloggers and some of the readers already.  So, if you're ready to know the ugly truth about me and my body, why don't you stop by and say "Hi"

Done

I just found out a friend of mine is pregnant after trying for two years. YAY!  So, I pulled out all my old maternity clothes and went through them to give to her. 

My first thought was that I can't believe I wore that much pink and floral prints.

My second was how happy I am to be done with that part of my life now. 

Surprised as I was by both thoughts, I have to say that it was damn near shocking to feel, not nostalgia, or even a little bit of disappointment that my child bearing days are over, but I felt pure, unmitigated joy.  Happiness, elation, a thrilling sense of moving on to the next level of my life. 

It's not that I hated pregnancy.  In fact, despite all the bitching I did during both pregnancies, I rather liked being pregnant.  It felt like I was a living, breathing miracle.  A life bearing Goddess.  It felt magical and exciting though more than a little bit nauseating.  Being pregnant was something I literally dreamed of for most of my life. I wasn't the girl playing princess or planning a future wedding to Prince Charming. I was the kid waddling around with a pillow under my shirt and practicing Lamaze breathing. 

I wondered if I'd ever get to the place where I was sure I didn't want to have any more children.  I've said all along that we're done at two, and it's true, we're not having more kids, but there was a little inkling, just a little feeling at the back of my head that wondered if maybe I felt a little bit sad about that.  To NEVER surprise John with a positive pregnancy test again.  To NEVER see the flashing heart beat dot on ultrasound for the first time again.  To NEVER again feel the baby kicking me from the inside.  To never hear John tell me with happy tears in his eyes "We had a BABY!" while hearing our son's first cries.  I really thought I'd feel sad about that.  But, I don't.  I've had those experiences and they were amazing and unforgettable.  I don't need more.  I was thrilled and lucky to give birth to both of my boys.  I'm good.

Better than I could write it

I wanted to write a post about yesterday, and I tried, and I tried, and I tried, but I couldn't come up with a post that really articulated everything I was feeling.  Today I found this.  So, here ya go.  This is how I feel:

A Barack Obama Boy

I spent my day alternating between watching the inauguration wide eyed and misty to yelling at Alex to keep quiet because nothing he wants right this second is as important as what is happening on CNN!  At one point Alex got so sick of me ignoring him he grabbed my face, turned my head towards him and yelled "Listen to me Mom! I'm a Barack Obama Boy!"

I'm still not sure what a Barack Obama Boy is, but it did get my attention.

Riddle me this

SInce Alex was two he's been night time potty trained.  Well, not so much trained because I didn't actually do any training to get him to stop peeing at night, he just stopped doing it.  But that's not my point.  My point is, that now that he's daytime trained (that yes, took quite a bit of training for both of us), he's now peeing the bed a couple nights a week.  ???

I always take him to the potty just before he goes to bed, and I always cut off his drinks two hours before bedtime.  So...I don't get it.

It's really not a big deal, we have a plastic cover on his mattress, and I'd rather him wet the bed at night than wet his pants during the day, I'm just wondering why we can't have both?  Why does it seem like it has to be one or the other?

Mrs. Magoo

So I finally got myself to the optomitrist, I hadn't been since shortly after Alex was born (THREE YEARS AGO!), and was long overdue for a checkup.  I'd been complaining to John that I couldn't see anything anymore, and he suggested that just maybe I needed a new prescription.

I decided to get contacts this time because the kids are really hard on my glasses, what with the yanking them off my face and stomping on them and what not.  I haven't worn contacts in the last 10 years or so.  What I wasn't quite prepared for was coming home and looking in the mirror with my brand new contacts in and looking back at me from the mirror was an old lady.  I noticed that my eyes were all wrinkly and puffy and my eyebrows had gone wild.  What used to be my best feature, now look beady and sad.  The blue is paler than it used to be (I used to have eyes just like Alex), my lashes are short and stubby.  I suppose I never really noticed this because I normally wear dark plastic frames that obscure half my face. Making me feel even worse was when Alex came up to me and said "Mommy, you look weird, put your glasses back on!"

I suppose part of the problem is I haven't had more than three hour stretches of sleep for seven months.  I'm hopefull that someday Max will sleep through the night and the luggage I'm carrying under my eyes will go away. 

I also noticed that everything looks fatter.  Like the view from the lenses in my glasses somehow made everything tall and skinny.  My baby is HUGE, Alex isn't nearly as skinny as I thought he was, and me, well, let's just say I'm getting back on the PHM wagon first thing in the morning because it's worse than I thought.

John doesn't seem to mind the change, he's used to what I look like with no glasses on, to use his words "This is what you look like when we're in bed together", so I suppose it can't be that bad right?