Now you’re all caught up.

The end.

Did you know when you own the domain and have a host for your blog, you have to pay, even if you’re not blogging.  Yeah.  I should probably start blogging again to make it worth it.

Let’s see, where to start?

We’re doing ok.  Better than I expected, really.  Smushy loves school.  She doesn’t cry when I drop her off.  She naps (sometimes).  She eats lunch (Ok, once.)  She asks to go to school on non-school days.  She’s excited when I pick her up and tells me about her day.  I am thrilled.  I enrolled Doodle for drop-in care and he goes for a few hours once a week.  It’s my only break, so I treasure it.  I like having the time to get shopping done or clean the house or watch a movie without kids.  It’s nice.  I don’t know that he’ll keep going once Mr. Silly gets home, but for now it’s good.

Mr Silly is busy.  Working a lot and not much free time.  He’s called a few times.  To be honest, we’re both pretty distant right now.  I update about the kids and send the occasional picture.  He talks about work as much as he’s able to say.  But for the most part, we’ve been disconnected.  I think it’s normal.  We’re both busy and aren’t able to share the day to day.  I miss him like crazy, of course.  It will be better once he’s home.

Smushy’s 3rd birthday is right around the corner.  My family is driving up to celebrate, so I’ve been trying to clean the house.  Technically, I’m still working on unpacking the upstairs.  The problem is that I’m only up there to sleep.  Out of sight, out of mind and all that.  Unfortunately, everyone is staying with us, so I absolutely have to have everything done.  Su-uck.  Slow and steady.

Doodle is amazing.  He is the happiest baby.  So smiley and giggly and I totally dig him.  He is so sweet and fun.  I had a really hard time in the beginning.  I never really went into it on here, but it was Bad.  Very bad.  I’m too ashamed to go into it now.  But now?  Things are so good.  I’m more patient.  I’m calmer.  He’s easier in general.  I think he was sensitive to something in my breastmilk and showed that sensitivity by freaking the hell out constantly.  So I stopped.  Months ago, in fact.  I still don’t know how I feel about it.  On one hand, it so isn’t how I wanted it to be.  I wanted to do it for as long as possible.  On the other hand, as soon as I stopped, we were so much happier.  All of us.  The difference was amazing.  And with Mr. Silly leaving and the PPD, I just know it was the right decision for us.  But I’m sad.  And I feel guilty sometimes.  But it’s ok.  We’re ok.

Pictures!

Look at that little grin

My girl. Cost of one ponytail? One bowl of chocolate ice cream.

So.

Two kids are a little tougher than I expected. Or, rather, there are things about two kids that are tougher. Getting anything done, for instance. Every time I start something, I have to stop and change a diaper, or get a bowl of cereal, or clean up a bowl of cereal from the floor, or change another diaper, or feed a baby, or change my shirt because the baby spit up on me, or change the baby because he spit up on himself, or change another diaper. And by “or”, I mean “AND”.

In between all of that I’m doing laundry (why did no one tell me the laundry would multiply by 10 just by adding one small baby??), or doing dishes, or cleaning the living room/bedrooms/bathrooms, etc. And then if I do manage to get something done, the Toddler Tornado goes through again and destroys it.

And did I mention the packers will be here a week from today to pack up all my crap for the move? A week, people. That means we’ve also had cleaners (house and carpet) coming by the give us quotes. I’m a realist. If I can’t manage to keep it decent most days, there is no way I’m going to be able to do a move-out clean by myself while watching 2 kids with no TV to help. We’ll just hire people. I don’t even care how much it costs. Mr. Silly insisted on getting way too many quotes, which meant I had people randomly showing up with no notice because he forgot to tell me about it. More often than not, I answered the door in my pajamas with spit-up all over me, holding a crying baby while Smushy ran around like crazy in the background.

Plus we have all this other stuff going on to get ready for the move, like cleaning out the car and figuring out how I’m supposed to fit everything in it since during my initial, pre-baby planning, I did not take into consideration the frequency and volume of Doodle’s spit-up (and it is impressive) and there are no laundry stops. Which means I’m going to need a lot more shirts and burp cloths (though we use receiving blankets as burp cloths because it is IMPRESSIVE!) So! We need to have a roof rack storage thingy installed, so we have to call the dealer and have them order the bar part so they can install it when we go in for our 30,000 mile pre-cross-country-move stuff on Saturday, which is also the day we have to clean out the garage since we have the trash people coming by that day to pick up all the big trash we’ve collected.

And Smushy is in a particularly SUCK ASS phase right now. The not listening, running away in busy parking lots, saying “no” to everything I tell her to do/not do, being loud, making messes, laugh in your face when you try to discipline (ding ding ding! Mommy’s biggest red button), non-napping, annoying as all hell phase. I do not know what I’m doing. I feel like a complete failure. I am that bad mother who can not control her child. I hate that. I don’t want to be this way, I just can’t figure out what the hell to do about it.

Her behavior and his fussy evenings (fussy=crying/screaming) added on to everything else we have going on is just wearing on me. By the time we get both kids to sleep, I have no desire to do anything productive. Unless facebook, message boards, and iPhone games are considered productive these days.

I keep telling myself things will be better after we move and that Doodle won’t be in this screaming all evening phase forever and eventually I will figure out what to do about Smushy or her suck ass phase will end on it’s own. Things will get better. Just working on getting there.

What do all these pictures having in common?

Are they showcasing the fact that my child needs her hair brushed more often? Well, yes, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’ll give you a hint. It’s multi-colored plastic made from evil. That’s right.

The binky.

Smushy is 32 months old and is still completely attached to that thing. I’ve tried limiting access in the past and it works for about a week until I cave because it’s just. so. easy. Give it to her and she’s happy and stops crying/screaming/whining.

Ahhh, silence.

But it is way past time to get rid of it. I am done. I am done with making sure I always know where they are. (“They” because one isn’t enough. She needs one for her mouth and at least one in each hand to be happy.) I am done with worrying when I can’t find one and searching frantically at bedtime.  Not to mention with all the other changes we have coming up, it’s now or 3 months from now in the middle of potty training with Mr. Silly being deployed.  Enough is enough already.

I am more than ready to stop taking pictures like this:

and the hundreds more like it.

Yesterday we searched the house and found as many binkys as we could and bagged them up. Smushy chose a toy and “paid” for them with her bag of binkys. We had talked up the new toy for a few days and she was pretty excited to go through with it.

We didn’t even make it to the car before she started asking for them. It was a gorgeous day, so pretty easy to distract her with playing outside (where she didn’t ever have a binky anyway). She asked for them a few more times at home and had a couple of tantrums over them being gone.

At nap time, she screamed for an hour and a half before we gave up on sleep and went to play outside. I was hoping she would go to bed early, but the phone wouldn’t stop ringing, so I didn’t actually get her down until later than I’d wanted. She cried (and screamed her lungs out) for about 15 minutes before she fell asleep. There were a few almost wake-ups when her hands would search for a binky and she fussed a little, but she never fully woke up enough to get mad about it. When I woke up at 3:30 to feed the baby, she was sleeping in our bed next to Mr. Silly.

All in all, not terrible for night 1. I’m hoping she takes a nap today and that tonight goes well.

We realized yesterday that we hadn’t really thought about taking Smushy to an official Easter Egg Hunt, so we scrambled around and checked the internet and found a couple of options.  One would cost us $150 for an egg hunt and brunch.  No. Joke.  The other was $20 for just a hunt and technically that was only because we had to pay for the non-hunting adults.  So silly, but since it was cheaper, we went with it.

I hadn’t thought to prep her, but decided to tell her what to do just before we went in.  The eggs are hiding and we need to find them because there is CANDY! inside.  Toddlers totally understand sugar.  We started out by pointing out a few eggs to her so she’d get it.  Then she figured it out and started finding them on her own.  I did not want to be one of those asshole parents who finds 20 eggs and steals them all for her kid.  Smushy walked away with about 8 eggs, which is pretty decent and even managed to snag one right before a big kid did and I didn’t even point it out to her.  She had a really good time.  As long as she didn’t have to go anywhere near the Easter Bunny.  She is not a fan of 6 foot tall fuzzy creatures.

Bonus awesomness of the day?  I totally managed to get everyone showered, dressed, and ready to go ON TIME!!  That includes brushing Smushy’s hair, which is an accomplishment on the best of days.

Waiting patiently

Then we went to lunch. Smushy spent the time checking out the loot.

Doodle likes to be held. A lot. He pretty much slept the whole time in the Babyhawk. Awesome.

Once you have kids, that is your reality. I try to remind myself of that on the bad days to keep me from going off the deep end. I do the same on the good days to remind me to appreciate the moment while it lasts.

Because it never lasts.

Yesterday was a good day. I got the grocery shopping done and put away while Smushy was in school.  Doodle napped in his car seat except when I had to feed him between errands. He wasn’t too fussy while we were out. I managed to get them both to sleep for ONE GLORIOUS HOUR of internetting and reading. I even managed to get some laundry done and wash the dishes AND cook dinner. Smushy wasn’t too annoying or toddlerish. Doodle didn’t scream at us too much. It was nice. Good day.

The days before was a bad day. Doodle didn’t sleep AT ALL that day. He just screamed and cried and ate. Smushy skipped her nap too and was generally annoying and disobedient. I think she had to go into time-out 3 or 4 times, which is a lot for her. She kept taking off all her clothes and peeing on the floor. (Though she did pee in the potty once for the very first time ever! Only good thing of the day.) Then she threw a full cup of water on the floor for no reason. When Mr. Silly got home, I begged for a break, but he decided right then would be the perfect time to call and get the TIVO working. So I had to wrangle both kids out of the living room since they were crying/screaming/noisy. We spent the next 30 minutes holed up in the bedroom while I nursed Doodle and tried to convince him to stop screaming at me and Smushy jumped and climbed all over the bed and me. I think I cried the entire time. Bad day.

I know things will get easier in some ways as Doodle gets older. And harder in others. I know we’re only 3 weeks in to being a family of 4 and there is an adjustment period. I know we’ll get it figured out. I know we have a lot going on with the upcoming move and boring day to day. And I know that we’re going to have a lot more good and bad days.

Mr. Silly turned 31 this month.  I was a little busy being pregnant, then having a baby, recovering from major surgery and dealing with life with a newborn, so I kinda failed at the gift giving.  His mom bought a cake when she was here, so I dind’t have to worry about that part.  I managed to help the kids make some crafty gifts while he was at work, so that was done at least.  And I bought him a blu ray off his wish list that got here late.  I know, I suck.  But at least I tried and that’s what counts.  Plus, I took pictures!

My Mac was saved!  Everything is perfect and functioning as it should.  I think we are going to break down and get another Macbook though since Mr. Silly’s PC is a piece of crap.  I honestly don’t know how he hasn’t been complaining about it constantly because I would not be able to stand it.  I was stuck with it for less than a week and I complained a lot.  It wouldn’t let me check my email or update my Facebook status!  It would get all wonky for no good reason.  Stupid PC.  So now Mr. Silly gets huge points for not being whiny and will probably inherit my 15″ Macbook while I get a 13″ Macbook.  I’d like something smaller and more portable and he could use the bigger screen to watch movies on deployment.  And then I can also get a huge ass desktop for photo processing and stuff like that.  Win win!

And now on to the list!

• Doodle likes booby.
• And that’s pretty much the only thing he consistently likes.
• The swing?  Rarely.  And only for about 3 minutes.
• The bouncer?  Pretty much never.
• The car/carseat?  Meh.  Sometimes.  Sorta.
• Doodle does not like baths.
• Or being naked.
• Or being cold.
• He is quite possibly the gassiest, burpiest baby IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!
• He rarely likes sleeping in his pack-n-play at night.  He prefers to sleep rightnexttomommy.  Which means I don’t get to shift or turn or move.  I am not a fan, but if it helps him sleep (and me sleep), we’ll go with it.
• I did not need to worry about Smushy being jealous.
• She is seriously an awesome big sister.  Always helping and giving him hugs and snuggles.  I am shocked!
• Smushy was a VERY easy baby.  Doodle isn’t hard or anything in the grand scheme of all things baby, but he does amplify how VERY EASY Smushy was.
• The second time around is so much easier/harder than the first time.
• Easier because I don’t panic about every little cry.  I feel like I know what I’m doing (a little.  Sorta.)
• Harder because there are two of them and one of me.  Sometimes (a lot) they both need something at the same time and I have to pick which to deal with first.  Which means the other one is mad and yelly and grrr!
• You CAN have a good eater and a good sleeper at the same time.  My theory has been debunked.  Doodle eats. (see previous bullet)  All. the. time.  He sleeps well during the day and at night.  Evening SUCK.
• When Smushy naps, Doodle is awake.  That kinda stinks.
• Babies who eat a lot, poop a lot.  I think I forgot how much babies poop.
• I have not yet figured out how to take care of 2 children AND the cleaning.  It’s coming along, but I’m not there yet.
• I am an awesome c-section recoverer.

So now that I’ve crossed Have A Baby off my to do list, next we have Get Ready To Move (Again).  (Didn’t we just get here?  Like 7 months ago?  The answer is yes.  Yes we did.)  We set up the internet move stuff last night.  Movers should be here in about a month to pack us up.  I am so not looking forward to a cross country trip in a car with a toddler and a baby who doesn’t love the car.  We’ve worked out some of the details like where everyone will sit in the minivan (I will be in the back to deal with kid stuff.) and what we need to do to get ready and what we need to pack.  It’s coming along.

Have some pictures!

Smushy, 6 months

Smushy, 31 months

I don’t get why this always happens to us.

The home owner called me yesterday to let me know they’ve listed the house for rent (obviously for after we move) and she has had a couple of people show interest and want to see it.  I panic.  Mr. Silly has been gone for a few days for work and I am here all by my huge self and the house looks like crap.  I let her know that and ask if it can wait until Mr. Silly is home so I can put him to work.  She is awesome.  The owners of this house have been awesome since day 1.  She insists she will let me schedule people to come by at my convenience and not to worry about it.

Whew.

She called again today to let me know there is someone else and the husband is flying in to look at the place.  He’ll only be here Monday and Tuesday.  Of course.  It’s fine really since Mr. Silly will be home soon and, while it does look like crap, it’s not really that bad and won’t take terribly long to clean.  When the wife called, I let her know Monday morning would be best.  Smushy will be at school and we don’t have to keep it clean for too long.

Really, none of this is a big deal.  It’s not like the last place we lived where they would show up without calling first and put a ton of pressure on us to keep everything perfect, going so far as to suggest we hire a cleaning service.  The difference is night and day.  I would rent from the current owners forever if I could.  We have only had a couple things come up and they were taken care of immediately.  They don’t bother us, we don’t bother them.  It’s perfect, really.

The ONLY thing is.  I’m about to have a baby.  I’m having a hard time focusing on much else these days.  I can’t physically keep up with the mess.  The house never looks perfect.  Trying to figure out the best days and times for someone to come by is starting to stress me out.  Already.  And it just started yesterday.  I just feel like my brain is at capacity right now and I don’t have room for anything else.

For instance.  My dad and step-mom called last night to find out our travel plans for the move.  They’ve been talking about doing a huge family reunion and want to plan it around us so we can be there.  So I’m bombarded with whens and wheres and how longs and I just start spacing.  For one thing, I don’t know.  I just.  Don’t.  I don’t know this child.  I don’t know if he hates the car.  I don’t know if we’re going to have to drive in 20 minute increments the whole way.  I don’t know anything about him.  I have never done this before.  Plus, we have to get to the next place as quickly as possible so we can find a place to live and get unpacked before Mr. Silly leaves.  I don’t have a lot of time to kill.  Now they seem to think this is rectified by them flying to our next duty station and “helping”.  God please no.  (A whole other venty, angry, red blog post.)

And it doesn’t even matter because I can’t think about that yet.  No brain space.  I just wish people would let me get through this baby thing before adding anything else to my plate.  Really, I just need a couple more weeks and then we can talk details.

Until then, people should just shush.  My brain needs the quiet time.

(You are so welcome for the most disjointed blog post ever.  Anytime!)