Manic Mommy

Dear Andrew & Abigail,

Today, I come home to you. I left you on Friday evening with your Grandma Dottie who babysat for Daddy and me so we could go to a wedding and to a dinner theater (the Wizard of Oz at Beef & Boards, it was Mommy's birthday present finally!). Then I left Sunday on a plane for Texas for work. While Daddy was picking you up, I was checking my luggage and getting on an airplane in the sky.

We have had a pretty rough couple of months. Mommy has had some struggles within her own head that have not helped. The fighting and screaming at bedtime almost every night has been hard for Mommy to handle. I dread bedtime and have been very frustrated with the situation, my inability to make this work, and your insistence on behaving in a way which makes me want to run screaming into the night. I hate to admit it, but I was not completely sad at the thought of escaping the bedtime battle for a few days. But then you left and then I left and I have missed you terribly ever since I pulled out of the McDonald's parking lot. Okay, actually, I went to the bookstore first and I really didn't miss you too much while I wandered down the aisles in the peace and quiet of the bookstore without chasing you or hearing your voices throughout the entire store. But right after I left the bookstore. Then I missed you.

It seems that Texas also has small children about your age. Amazing, I know! And apparently, they all were out on display for me because I saw them EVERYWHERE. And every time I saw one of those small children, I missed you a little more.

I am sitting in the airport right now, nearly giddy with excitement to get on the plane already and fly home to you. Of course, by the time my plane lands and I actually make it home, you two will probably be asleep. But that will not stop me from snuggling and kissing and smelling your sweet sleepy smells as soon as I get home. And I guess it will be nice to see Daddy, too.

Next week, I'm going to do this again. I will be leaving for Texas very early Monday morning (before you are awake, probably) and coming home late Friday night. And then, hopefully, I can stay home for a while. This trip has confirmed, in more ways than one, that I am not meant to be a traveling consultant. I really am happier in my own space, even if I have to share that space with two small people who do not like to sleep.

miss you like crazy, love you like crazier,
Mommy

It's come to this

Dear Andrew & Abigail,

Tonight, we reached a turning point. I have said frequently (usually at bedtime) in the last months that I have seriously considered locking one or both of you in your rooms. Your aunt Audra reached that point with cousin Georgia. To be honest, I judged her for it. Well I am paying the price for that judging now. I tried to understand then how things could possibly reach the point where the only way to control a three-year-old child was to lock her in her room, but I just could not imagine the level of frustration and desperation that would lead to that. It seemed so extreme. NOW I understand. I understand the temper tantrums. The hitting. The kicking. The screaming like a caged wild animal. You think I exaggerate. If I could load audio and video here - and had a camera person from Super Nanny's crew to film it all so I could still have hands free to ward off the blows - I would find a way, just so I could have a record later of what happens on an all too regular basis in this house.

And so here we are.

I know that the reason we are here on this specific evening is because of our weekend. As fun as it was to see our friends in Tennessee, I know that the repercussions of disrupting your schedule so drastically are these fits from both of you, but more fiercely from Sweet Abigail. For Andrew, everything is hard, frustrating, unfair. We're hearing a lot of exasperated pre-teen "GAWD!!!" (ooh, I HATE that!). For Abby, living and breathing is just pure torture. The tiredness possesses her little body like a demon, turning my Sweet Abigail into Screaming Mimi. There is nothing to do but wait it out. But an audience of any kind feeds the demon. Isolation is our exorcist. And so, the lock.

I would much rather be talking about how much fun we had this weekend visiting Patrick and Ainsley and the Dinosaur Bounce House. You both did so much better on the drive than I had hoped for -- thanks to our pre-travel purchase:

You had fun swimming, bouncing, digging, sliding...all the things summer should be about. Bedtime in the hotel was okay each night, with only one major fit-throwing incident when we passed the point of no return with Abby. But mostly, you two snuggled in with Mom, Dad, or sibling and fell asleep on your own without major drama. A blessed change of pace. And Mommy and Daddy got to spend some time with our long lost friends. It was one of the most wonderful Memorial Day Weekends ever. But then we came home to reality. And now our reality includes a lock on Abby's door to keep the demon contained. I am sad, and I'm wishing for a Super Nanny fairy to come and fix this. Clearly, your parents are not having any luck. I feel like a bad mommy. That I am failing you both. That I should be able to make this work. But I have resorted to locking Abby's door. And it makes me sad.

Why can't every day be like vacation?

love,

Mommy

Updated: Daddy wasn't home when I put up the lock. He is not happy with Mommy, but I think he's mostly angry that I put a hole in the door. He is not seeing the problem. And that is making me even more sad. love, Mommy

Our Very Busy Weekend

Dear Andrew & Abby,

I am afraid we are in for a very busy busy summer. I think this weekend was just a taste of what is to come. It's going to be fun, but Mommy is going to be t-i-r-e-d! The good news is that you two might actually get worn out enough to sleep a couple of times. That would be a nice change of pace.

This weekend, Grandma Dottie and Papa came to visit. They got to our house Friday night. That of course meant that Friday evening was when we cleaned the house like little whirlwinds. We really have been doing a little better at keeping the house from looking like it's been ravaged by an army of litter-bugs and mess-makers during the week, but we still don't really get things completely put back together until the weekend. So when we have company arriving Friday night, that bumps the schedule up a bit. And we wouldn't want to plan ahead and try to do extra cleaning all through the week...no no no. That's just crazy talk.

Grandma and Papa came to see Andrew's very first baseball game of the season on Saturday.



So we stayed up late Friday and got up early on Saturday - it's such a good idea. Andrew had to be at the field at 7:45 (yes, in the morning!!) for pictures, so Daddy took him; the rest of us went up for his game at 8:45. Between Andrew's game and the Little League opening ceremonies at 11:30, we went to the garage sale at our church. While we were there, Daddy helped load the walls that they framed in the church parking lot to be transported to the site of the house our church is helping to build with Habitat for Humanity and we watched the duck family with all their little ducklings (13 of them!).


Then we went to another garage sale and chatted with our friends who live on the same street. Daddy and Andrew went back to the ball field for the opening ceremony at 11,

while the rest of us went home to start the grill for lunch and try to get little miss Abigail to take a nap (now THAT's funny!). Whew. Are you tired yet? Of course you're not. Silly question.

So...while we were trying to eat lunch - Daddy and Andrew hadn't made it home yet - Abby fell over backwards in her chair and her tongue helped her teeth break their fall.


There was blood. And more blood. Luckily, Grandma was there and she has experience with this sort of thing. When Daddy was three, he rode his tricycle down the basement stairs and bit his tongue, too. He actually almost bit the whole thing off and had to have stitches! Abby's was not quite that bad - there were no dangling tongue pieces, thank goodness! But it did take quite a while to get her settled down and for the bleeding to stop. And then? She went to sleep! Huh.

Wow, after all of that, the rest of Saturday was pretty boring. We cooked out again for dinner (Mommy's barbecued chicken...mmm) and sat outside. Then, your Grandma told Mommy and Daddy they could LEAVE. When there were baths to give and dishes to wash. Have I mentioned how much your Grandma likes to clean and how much Papa loves to give you baths? They are awesome. Mommy and Daddy went up to church to put away the signs for the garage sale (because they are big and heavy and we made them seven years ago and so it's always Daddy's job to put them out and put them away. That's just the way it is.) and also to finish tilling the church garden so we can plant some things.

Sunday. Church Day. Mommy and Daddy and Andrew went to Sunday school and Grandma, Papa, and Abby came for the service. Mommy was in charge of the nursery and children's church so I did my best to get all the kids excited for Vacation Bible School. Mommy is really excited for VBS and I'm in charge this year, so I want everyone else to be excited, too. After church, we went to one of our very very favorite places to eat (at Abby's request this time, instead of Mommy's), Parky's. Mmm...barbecue. We like barbecue.

And then...yes, there was just a little more...Grandma and Papa went home. I think we probably wore them out. We went to the fun Tractor Supply Store to look for seeds and stakes and string for the garden and you BOTH had big ol' bad temper tantrums. So we took our seeds and went home and you both went to bed! Abby slept, but Andrew didn't. Sigh. Later, there was biking and Dairy Queen for you two and Daddy while Mommy stayed home in the quietness. Bedtime was...do I really need to say it...rough. Abby slept too long at nap time. Of course!

And that was our weekend. And that will be our summer. Next month looks especially busy - Andrew will have baseball games and Cub Scout camp, Abby will have dance class, and we all will have vacation bible school. I'm both dreading and looking forward to it at the same time. I think we're going to have a lot of fun and make a lot of memories. But I also think it's going to be hard for Mommy and Daddy to figure out how to juggle everything and keep our happy voices. We'll be practicing our patience a lot. And you two are going to have to practice your sleeping. A lot.


love,
Mommy - who will be sleeping for the next three weeks in preparation for summer

One reason to be glad for no recent growth spurts

Dear Andrew & Abby,

You know I write a lot about bedtime here. It's usually a pretty painful process. We also frequently deal with nighttime visits. Sometimes one, sometimes the other, occasionally both. Our bed is not big enough for all four of us plus both cats, but it's been known to hold all of us anyway. Our visits from Andrew used to be every night. Most of the time he didn't come in until about 4am, but sometimes it was more like midnight or 1am. He seemed to learn pretty quickly not to come to Mommy's side. Mommy is a light sleeper and I would usually make him go back to bed. But Daddy would sleep right through the visit, allowing Andrew to snuggle in undetected until the morning alarm clock rang.

So, now we fight to get you to bed, but once you're out, the visits are less frequent. But once in a while, we still get a visitor.

Last night was a visit to remember.

Bedtime came late - it was a gorgeous evening and we stayed outside until almost 9pm - Mommy and Daddy blow the bedtime routine yet again.

**As a side note - part of the reason we were outside past bedtime is that Andrew was practicing riding his bike with no training wheels. I'm thrilled to report that this afternoon after more practice, Daddy and I feel pretty confident that he has it mastered. Yay!! Go, Andrew!**

You two fought and fought and did not finally pass out until after 10pm. Daddy and I were asleep a little after 11pm. And at 12:30, I woke up to a noise I couldn't quite place. And maybe I sensed something amiss?

Andrew was standing next to my bed. And I heard a noise like water running. Uh oh.

"Andrew, are you peeing in my room?"

No response. But now my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. And there was definitely an exposed boy part next to my bed. He took a step back and then walked back to his room. I realized he was sleep walking, so no point in yelling. It's not like he was peeing in my room on purpose. He was back in bed and asleep before I could even get to his room.

I returned to my room and told Daddy to turn on the light. Not only did he pee. He PEED. The floor. The side of the bed. The photo albums next to my bed. Oh dear. And then Daddy started laughing.

As I cleaned up, Daddy laughed and laughed. When he could finally tell me why (after he caught his breath from his laugh attack), he said, "If he had just been six inches higher...he'd have been peeing all over YOU instead of the bed!" And then there was more laughing. I am pretty sure he laughed himself to sleep. After we changed the sheets.

Love,
Mommy, whose bedroom is NOT the potty

Finding beauty in the two of you

Dear Andrew & Abby,

I've been struggling with what and how to write to you this week. It has been a bit of an emotional week in the world. On Monday, someone hurt and killed a lot of people including himself in a place where they all should have been able to be safe. No one really still knows why, and I think that makes everyone even more upset. Grown-ups like to be able to explain things, especially to you kids. When we can't, it's hard. This week also has marked the anniversaries of two other events where a lot of people were hurt and killed, for barely understood reasons.

I've been sad about these things all week, and wondering what I would say to you if either of you asked about some of the things you have seen and heard, despite Daddy's and my efforts to shield you. I'm guessing it is being talked about at day care and at Andrew's school. So far, neither of you has asked or seems to be having nightmares (Andrew had nightmares about planes crashing after September 11, 2001, even though he was only 2 1/2 at the time).

And then today, I read this quote on my daily quote calendar:

Think of all the beauty that's still left in and around you and be
happy!

That was written by Anne Frank, who you will both learn about in school one day. She was a little girl who lived during a very scary time in a place that is not as safe as where we live. She was very brave when it was almost impossible to have hope.

Thinking of her and her ability to still find the good in her world, today I'm thinking about a few things you two have been up to in the last couple of weeks that help me find beauty in life, even when I'm sad for some of the things going on in our world.

Abby has recently been having a lot of fun pretending to be a mom or a dad and assigning the rest of us different roles. Apparently, she has picked up a lot of ideas about what it means to be Mommy and Daddy. One day last week, she announced, "I'm a mom. I need a Diet Coke." Hmm...I wonder where she could have picked that up? Then, a couple of days ago, Daddy allowed her to have one of his fudgesicles. She happily climbed up into the rocking chair and announced, "Now I'm a dad!" She's also developed some pretty strong opinions about things and is noticing the world around her. The other day when pulling in at day care, she pointed out that the car next to us was "cute." "Oh, yes," I agreed, "it's nice." "No," she said, "it's CUTE." Today, she wore a long sleeve shirt underneath her short sleeve t-shirt, just like Andrew likes to do, because it's also "cute." And last night, she fell asleep on her bedroom floor. On purpose. Daddy put her back into her bed before we went to bed for the night, and this morning, she woke up very angry, crying and yelling "I want to sleep on the floor!" So she moved back to the floor for the few minutes before it was time to get up.

While Abby is learning what it takes to be a mom and a dad, and shunning her bed, Andrew is consumed with baseball. He started Little League a couple of weeks ago, and I think Daddy and I are starting to settle into the routine a little better. Games don't start for a couple more weeks, but practice is scheduled for Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. He's not the best player on the field, but he is pretty good. And he is very optimistic. At the scrimmage game last night, he missed a pop fly, but instead of focusing on that, all he could talk about was, "Did you see that hit I made?!" Even after I said yes, he told me all about it any way. In teeny tiny detail. Reanalyzing and replaying every moment...hmm...I think I know which parent he got THAT from (yes, I'm looking at you, Daddy). Even though he wouldn't admit it in a million years, I think Andrew is struggling to adjust to the extra activity and has been pretty tired. He's alternated between moody, sweet, grumpy, and hyper much of the last week or two. Summer should be fun.

And there is some good news in the Bedtime Wars. While not perfect, or even conflict-free, bedtime has been slightly less of a nightly battle. Mommy has not had any more moments of debate about whether or not to call in reinforcements from down the street, hire someone outright to put you to bed while Daddy and I sit at Dairy Queen and wait, or to just run screaming into the night. This makes for a much happier mommy. And I'm sure you both find it much more enjoyable in the house without the Mommy Ogre making nightly appearances.

I think it has also helped that this sadness about the events going on has helped to give Mommy a little perspective about the truly important things in life. You two are tops on that list for me, and if that means that we have to fight it out a little at bedtime, I guess I can deal with that. To paraphrase something I heard recently, if that's the biggest complaint I have, then I'm a pretty lucky Mommy. We may live in a sometimes scary world, but here at home, life is good.

love,
Mommy

Easter recap, new obsessions, and Oh My God, this has to stop

Dear Andrew & Abby,

Well, we made it through Easter. I know! Hard to believe. We actually stayed home this year, which is unusual for us. We usually go to Papa and Grandma Dottie's house, which is also fun. But this was one of the few times we stayed at our house and went to our church and the Easter Bunny came to our house! On Saturday, there was the Easter party at church and I think you two had a really good time. You made hand print lillys and I am still proudly displaying them. Since they aren't relying on Mommy for watering, they will probably do better than our house plant.

Sunday morning, you found the baskets that the Bunny left for you and you were both VERY excited. Andrew said he LOVES Easter!! I think that is mostly due to the fact that there was an umbrella in his basket and he has been pining for an umbrella for a long time now. I've never seen a kid so excited to get an umbrella.

This week, he has been spending a lot of time studying the weather forecast to determine that it might rain and he should really take his umbrella today. On the way home from school today (it was a rainy day and he did take the umbrella), he offered to go and fetch the mail - IN THE RAIN - if Daddy hadn't already picked it up. Of course that offer was rescinded once we heard thunder and saw lightning, but that's okay.

You also both had some other junk in your baskets that cost 50 cents or a dollar or so a piece (the Easter Bunny told me that). Yes, you two are fairly spoiled in quantity, but luckily, you aren't concerned too much with quality or cost (at least not yet).

Church was good and you were reasonably well-behaved. Of course Mommy (and the other Mommies and Daddies involved) did not make the best decision in allowing the Trinity Gang to all sit together in a pew.

It felt like a really long time until Pastor invited all the kids to the front for the Children's Sermon and then you were off to the nursery for Children's Church. We are so blessed to be part of a church that accepts and embraces families with small kids the way ours does. It helps that we all sit where we're supposed to - back left corner. That's the Noisy Corner. Most people know that that's not where you want to sit if you actually want to be able to hear the entire service.

Because we stayed home, and because Mommy likes to go crazy every once in a while, we invited people over to our house to eat Sunday afternoon. Mommy loves to have friends over and to cook lots of food. So it's a good fit. Of course, the problem is that we do not have a large house. And our not large house is not even very well designed for entertaining. But that's never been known to stop us. Also, we have a lot of friends! We are SO popular! Mommy tried to keep it small - so I just invited the Russells (family of 4), the Fishers (4), the Stenbergs (4), the Herrins (4). We're all such tidy two-kid families (for now!!). But even with that, do the math with me...4 times 5 is...20! Very good! TWENTY people. Of course, half of them are kids, so that's not too bad. Oh, and wait! We also invited the Wallaces - there's just three of them. Then I got word that the Russells were also bringing Don's mom and dad - who live in town and who we know. That's cool. And then we also invited the Campbells (4) - because we just really like them and I wanted them to come. And they did. The Herrins and Wallaces already had other plans, but everyone else came. So did you keep track? That's 22 people altogether. It was so much fun! I cooked a Big Ass Ham (over 19 pounds!), and made special Easter Egg Potatoes that I love. Everyone else brought something and we had a great time. You kids got to play, the grown-ups got to talk, and there was lots and lots of food. I don't remember an Easter when I have ever felt more content and at peace, and surrounded by friends, which is all I could hope for you for any day in your life.

And then Sunday night came.


And Monday night.


And Tuesday night.


And tonight.


I don't even have the words to describe how awful bedtime has been. We've had good structure, followed our routine, and Mommy and Daddy have worked together. And yet...


Fits. Screaming. Throwing. Crying. Defiance. Threats. Hitting and kicking. Punishment. Spanking (yes, I said it. Spanking. On. Your. Butt.).


Last night, I actually looked up the application for SuperNanny. That's how bad it is. I guess the good - and bad - news is that I don't think you're bad enough for us to make it on to Jo's schedule. Last night, Mommy was in tears by the end of the night. Tonight, I was afraid. Afraid I was close to losing control. Daddy took over and I mostly hid in the living room. Neither of us quite knows what to do. We've heard it all and we've tried it all. How can I possibly continue to simply put Abby back in her bed each time she gets up when I don't even make it out of her room before she's on my heels? Are we really going to have to throw or give away Andrew's toys before he will give up his stubbornness and stop with the back talk? You two are only three and eight. If it's this bad now, I am really frightened of how ill-equipped I will be to handle either of you as teenagers. I can't even talk about it anymore. We need help. Real help. Not the unsolicited parenting book advice kind of help. We need SuperNanny or someone willing to pretend to be her for us. And I just don't know where to get that kind of help.


If only we had some kind of umbrella-wielding super-hero who specializes in sleep-resistant children. And no, the Penguin is NOT who I have in mind. I think adding nightmares to our already stressful nighttime would finally push Mommy right over the edge.

I love you I love you I love you. No matter how frazzled I feel trying to get you to sleep, once you finally give up the fight and close your eyes, I go in to your rooms, snuggle on you, smell your sleepiness, and kiss your cheeks and heads and hands. I adore you. Now, please.

GO TO SLEEP.

love,
Mommy

Two peas from the same sick little pod

Begging for a slumber party
Originally uploaded by Cheri13.

Dear Andrew & Abby,

I have been wanting to post this week, but I have been dealing with being very sick and that has made it hard for me to find the cuteness or noteworthiness of pretty much anything you two have done. Not that there haven't been lots of cute or noteworthy things I could mention, it's just that they kind of lost their impact on Mommy while she was lying on the couch waiting for her fever to break or wondering if it was time to switch sides so the other side of her nose could drain.

Daddy was sick first, while I was in San Diego. Remember? Andrew had to be the Big Brother in Charge for a couple of days. When I got back on Thursday Daddy was still pretty sick. Since then, the rest of us have had our own versions. Mommy has been down for the count since Friday night.

Luckily (for ALL of us), you two have had the most mild symptoms. The worst thing is that the virus traveled to your ears and you each now have an ear infection. But since that is an infection and not a virus, we have yummy pink antibiotic for that! So it's been a week full of snot and thermometers and medicine in our house. I was glad that the weather has been nice a couple of days so we could open the doors and windows and air out some of the sick that is hanging like a haze in our house.

This is the first time you two have been sick at the same time, and I have to say, it works out pretty nicely. You have been fairly inseprable over the last couple of months and being sick together has at least prevented me from having to constantly try to keep you apart.

It amazes me that a brother and a sister, with five years between them no less, could want to spend so much time together, even at bedtime. You can ask Uncle Travis and Uncle Dusty - we NEVER wanted to spend that much time together when we were little. A couple of months ago, there was a night when we let you two sleep together in Andrew's bed. Mommy and Daddy have now added that to the list of things we would never have agreed to if only we'd been able to foresee the consequences. Now you want to sleep together EVERY night. Unfortunately, this doesn't work very well for actual sleeping. There is a distinct slumber party atmosphere to the whole thing, which is why this practice has never been allowed on a school night (which, as I recently explained to Andrew, is any night before you have to go to school, which does include Sunday!). But that doesn't prevent you from asking. And asking. And, when you get an answer you don't like (that is, any answer that is not Yes), from just climbing in bed together anyway and clinging to each other like castaways on a wooden raft in a thunderstorm. Mommy has to literally pry you apart (that crowbar Mommy keeps by her bed has come in very handy), and then drag one screaming child (usually Abby) back to her own bed.

I am so glad that you two love each other so much that you can not bear to be apart even in sleep. I do have to say, though, your combined forces are surprisingly strong and have made Mommy more and more convinced that the two of you are more than we'll ever need. Can you imagine if you had a third member of your army? Sometimes it's enough to give Mommy nightmares!

love,
Mommy

The second rule is money found in the dryer belongs to Mommy

Dear Andrew & Abby,

It's confession time. Mommy is struggling. We've been having a rough time lately, and I am running out of ideas. The Mother of the Year Award is a long abandoned dream now (see trying to kill you with applesauce) and now I am concentrating on just trying to stay out of Mommy Hell and/or avoid having someone take you away from me and Daddy and give you to someone who actually knows what to do with little child people.

Before we had kids, we talked some about what it would be like. I thought about it a lot. I was ready. Ha ha ha ha ha. If you EVER hear anyone tell you they were ready when they had kids, they are LYING! No one is ever ready. No matter how many books you read or people you talk to, you just can't know what it's like until it's your turn. I didn't know it then, but there is a secret parent society. The first rule of Parent Club is - you don't talk about Parent Club. Oh, sure, you let other people THINK you are talking about it, but you're not. You're saving all the really gory details for the members-only discussions. And even then, there are some things you just don't share with anyone. For example - and I'm about to let out a big Parent Club secret here, so I'm taking a big risk to tell you this - your dad and I have only discussed a particular incident with Baby Andrew a couple of times since it happened. The incident when Baby Andrew was so constipated that he had a poop of clay that got stuck. Yes, stuck. Half-way. Apparently, based on the wailing and the very red and angry face that Baby Andrew made, there was a good deal of pain and discomfort associated with a poop of clay sticking half in and half out of your pooper. Mommy freaked out and called the nurse, but before I could bring myself to explain the situation, Daddy was busy solving the problem (you are so lucky to have him as your dad). We - no, HE - had tried to pull the clay poop out and that didn't work. So he PUSHED IT BACK IN. And then Baby Andrew was able to get some momentum behind the effort and get things worked out within a few minutes. Now, I tell you this at risk, not only of my Parent Club membership, but that I have successfully given you all the reasons for birth control you'll ever need and I will never have grandchildren. It's a risk I'm willing to take because I need you to understand just how far I am feeling in over my head with you both right now.

Another thing Parent Clubbers don't tell outsiders about is what happens when you add more kids. In the case of raising children, 1 + 1 does not equal 2. Sometimes it feels closer to 20. At 3 and 8, you have figured out how to work together, and your tag team efforts to resist sleep and rules and routines and in general anything your dad and I want you to do have created an exponential, synergistic (in the evil kind of way) force that just might kill me.

Bed time has become Hell on Earth. Worse than dealing with clay poop every hour of every day. At least clay poop doesn't get out of bed 500 million times a night after it's supposed to be asleep. Or scream and cry. Or jump on the bed. Or sneak out of its room to pilfer drinks of water which lead to bed-wetting to the point where Mommy's newest addition to the bedtime ritual is to remove any kind of water-holding vessel from the bathroom. No, clay poop just sits there. Half in, half out, being its clay little self. There are times - usually about 9:30pm when we have been in the "going to bed" mode for two hours and you are both still getting up out of your beds to laugh and play in the hallway or Abby is screaming and Andrew is whining for more book time - I long for the return of the clay poop days. I've come to realize that - another Parents Club secret - babies are easy. Yes, there is the whole lack-of-sleep thing, and the eating all the time, and the fragile you-might-break-them issues. But for the most part, a baby's life is a simple one. Eat. Sleep. Poop. Repeat. Babies stay where you put them. They don't talk back. They don't get out of their beds. They don't play in the bathroom when they are supposed to be brushing their teeth and make a big mess with the water. They don't scream and kick when you're trying to put their pajamas on. Okay, I'll give you the last one. But baby kicks don't have the same impact that three-year-old kicks do. Or the same anger. Woo! Do they have anger management classes for toddlers? Because "use your words" doesn't seem to be working too well in our house.

Now, I know that there are all kinds of people out there who have a lot of advice they could offer your Mommy. And they'd all be happy to, if only I would ask. Or publish this post on a parenting support site. The trouble is that I already know what I'm supposed to do. I know you both need a routine. And we have one. Of course, we (and by that I mean Mommy and Daddy) haven't been very good at enforcing it or even reminding you of it on a very consistent basis. We're tired. Work wears us out. Truthfully, life wears us out. The rush to get home, get you from daycare, make dinner, eat dinner, make sure Andrew does his homework, run off to any functions we might have...it's a lot. And since we don’t get you two picked up and home until almost 6pm and bedtime is at 8pm, we only have a couple of hours to get it all done each night during the week. So by the time we need to put you to bed, we’re tired. Our last ounces of energy have been sucked from our bodies like a cowboy sucks barbecue sauce from a slab of ribs. And we had gotten to a certain comfort level with Andrew before Abby was born - and even for a while after - that we could let him have some independence from us during the bedtime routine and he could and would do some things on his own. But now that we are dealing with the Power of Two, we can't do that anymore, and neither of us has adjusted well to that new truth. In fact, I'm not sure your daddy has even acknowledged that it IS truth yet.

I'd like to think that it would be better if I was a SAHM (that's Stay-At-Home-Mom), but I don't think I can believe that, either. I'm afraid that if I was at home all day, I would still be this worn out and frustrated and unorganized and not as good of a mom as I want to be. I'd just have a little more time at home to think about it all.

So, my little ones, loves of my life, Mommy needs a little help. I'm on my way to San Diego for a work conference right now and I won't be back until late Wednesday night. But when I get back, I want to start a new day in the House That Chaos Built. It will only work if you help. It's become quite apparent that I can not cope under the current environment. I'm not sure how much I'll be able to convince Daddy that the point of no return is upon us. So for a while, until he faces reality, it might just be us. You help Mommy keep her sanity, and Mommy will try not to look and sound like a crazy scary banshee mom. It's a good trade-off, right?

Love you still, but even more once you give it up and GO TO SLEEP already,
Mommy

Superman and a skeleton

Dear Andrew & Abby,

We had another busy night tonight, but thankfully, bedtime was a much less war-like experience than last night.

We went to church to see a mini concert by the Heritage Christian Singers. They are a group of teenagers from Heritage Christian High School in Milwaukee, Wisconsin who tour and sing as part of their education. They are an amazing group of young people (and now I know I must be old to actually have just referred to teenagers as "young people." Sheesh!). Their singing is awesome, but on top of that, they witness as if it is completely natural. That is an ability that I think I will never have, and they have it down before they're 18. You were both mesmerized by the singing for the first 15 or 20 minutes. Abby stood on my lap and stared at the singers. Andrew stood on the other end of the pew. The spell did wear off a little, but you were both better than I expected, right up until the end, when I had to take a screaming Abby out so she didn't drown out the singers.

After the concert, there was fellowship time with ice cream and cookies. The Superman ice cream was a big hit. Yes, I let Abby have two helpings - I was living on the edge. She decided that the ice cream was actually called Batman ice cream and that SHE was Superman. So yesterday a fishy, today Superman. Hmm.

Andrew sat at a table with six of the singers, smack dab between two of the girls, of course. I'm not sure what all he was talking about, but by the looks of him and the girl he was talking to, he had the charm on full force. I should have checked his hand for a phone number before he went to bed. At the end of the get-together, he went around to each of the singers and told them his favorite joke. I am proud of the fact that I taught him the joke at Halloween, but I am amazed that it is still such a hit. Here's the joke:

"Why didn't the skeleton cross the road?"
"Because he didn't have the guts."

HAHAHAHA...

So tonight, in an effort to keep the joke from getting stale (too late?), I taught him a modified version of a joke I learned from Melissa at AlphaMom:

"Knock knock."
"Who's there?"
"Interrupting dog."
"Interrup-" "Woof woof woof!"

I like it. But I think Andrew still likes the skeleton joke better. Apparently, I need to work on more new material.

love,
Mommy

What's blue and white and T-I-R-E-D? A fishy!

Dear Andrew & Abby,

Oh, so much to talk about today...

As I type this (at 9:15pm), you are both sniffling in your beds. We have spent over an hour fighting about bedtime. Your dad and I are both ready to pull our hair out or sell you in a garage sale. Luckily for you, it's 9 pm on a Monday night in January, and there aren't many garage sales going on in the neighborhood, so I guess Daddy and I are going bald. We're pretty sure it's a holdover from our late night Sunday night. We live in Indiana, close to Indianapolis, home of the Indianapolis Colts, AFC Champions. Go Colts! It was a great game, and I don't regret letting you stay up to watch it, but it was a late night and we are paying for it tonight with over-tired, cranky, back-talking, whiny children.

Andrew was actually grounded from wearing his Peyton Manning jersey for a week during the bedtime wars tonight. Considering the desperation with which he begged for the jersey, that's pretty serious grounding. We had to make a special trip to the mall last Saturday to find that jersey. FIFTY-FIVE DOLLARS!!! Okay, it's not a fortune, but holy CRAP that's expensive. Luckily, I was able to convince him to get the bigger 10-12 size instead of the size 8, even though it was white instead of blue. So at least he should be able to wear it next year. I'm trying to get that cost-per-wearing ratio as low as possible.

Abby was also pretty into the game and has "Go Colts!" down to an art form. Today there was a new variation that came out as a result of her favorite book, "A Story of Christmas" (she calls it the Baby Jesus book). The new saying for the day is "Baby Jesus Go Colts!" I don't know why...
Last night, Abby also decided that she is a fishy. I'm guessing it's somehow related to the Laurie Berkner DVD we watched almost ALL DAY yesterday. I think we watched the Goldfish song a million times. Or maybe it just felt that way. This morning when I went into her room and said "Good morning, Sunshine!" the reply I got from a face buried in her pillow was a tired-sounding, "I a fishy."

Finally, I think my little fishy and her big brother are sleeping. Let's hope it's a restful restorative sleep and we don't have to do this again tomorrow night.

love,
Mommy

Go Colts!

Sharing you with the Internet, or at least Grandma Jamie

Dear Andrew & Abby,

Today I decided to open this diary so other people can see it. Being a parent, I am of course convinced that you two are the only children in the world who do the hilarious things you do and it is only natural that everyone else would want to know about it. It would be selfish of me to keep that all to myself. Plus, it might be an incentive for me to remember to write here on a regular basis.

I'm not sure how this will go, for now, it's just an experiment. Kind of like your mommy trying to be a Cool Kid. Not that you have to try to do what the cool kids are doing at school just so you fit in and don't feel like a loser. No. Peer pressure is bad. Just say NO. But writing on the Internet might be okay. Just don't write bad things about people that you wouldn't say to their face - unless you're prepared for them to ask you why you wrote bad things about them or fire you from your job over it. Trust me, Mommy reads Dooce - she knows.

Okay, Mommy is rambling. I'm cold and tired (the tired part is only Abby's fault today, by the way. Andrew, much better sleeping last night!!) and have to get to work.

I will write more later. I have a great story to tell on Andrew today about how he got grounded from Yu-Gi-Oh (That's Oh as in Oh-how-mommy-hates-yu-gi-oh)...and Abby learning sleep avoidance tactics from the master (yes, you, Andrew!).

love you,
Mommy (aka MommyBlogger-Wanna-Be)

These prison walls can't hold me

Dear Andrew & Abby,

Last night was not a good night. I had intended to type this entry last night after you were both asleep. However, apparently, your dad and I missed the memo about you two sleeping in shifts last night. Abby went to sleep fine at 9pm, but Andrew was up until almost 12:30am - which is when Abby woke up! Girl, you've got to quit the rock-star partying!!! You wrestled with your dad for space in our bed until about 3:30-ish. I'm pretty sure I got more sleep than he did, but we both woke up at that time to the sound of you dragging your fingers across the bars on our headboard - like a convict might drag his tin cup across the metal bars of his cell. Last night, sleep was prison to you and you wanted nothing to do with it. We still don't know why, other than the explanation you sheepishly gave about being afraid of the monster in Andrew's closet. I'm pretty sure you made that up because that's what Andrew said was keeping him up until post-midnight, but who knows. Daddy tried to take you back to your bed after the prison scene, but you screamed for me until I caved and took over. I wasn't sleeping at that point anyway, and was starting to panic that you would wake up Andrew, thus beginning the next sleep/awake shift. I told your dad that there was no point in us both being awake. Once I went in, you calmed down and started to fall asleep. After several minutes of the post-traumatic hiccup sobbing, I think you passed out. It's hard to know for sure because I think I beat you to it. Needless to say, your daddy and I are going to have a hard time at work today.

What I really wanted to talk about was this weekend. Abby, you won your very first game - Go Fish! It is so much fun to see you play a game and start to understand how it all works. Lately, one of your favorite expressions is "That's not fair!" - such as when I tell you it's bed time, or you have to wear your coat, or it's time for dinner...all very unfair things of me to demand. But you played the game without complaining when your turn didn't go well, and you were a very gracious winner. I think Andrew is also excited that you are now old enough to play games with him because Mommy and Daddy could never play enough board or card games with your brother to satisfy him. Be prepared for marathon Monopoly Jr. sessions in your future!

Andrew, this weekend I read to you a little of what I have already typed here in this diary. Your response was to write me a letter back. You typed it on the computer, just like my letter to you, and I totally did not expect that, but I loved it. Here is what you typed:

Dear Mom.
Thank you for the letter.The Christmas tree is cool it is almost Abby’sbirthday so be happy! We should make a cake for Harry’s birthday. We should be very, very, very, very happy. The Christmas tree looks nice. It was fun at the Hammerle’s my favorite ornament is Mater and Lightning McQueen. My favorite game is swipe. I love you Mom!!!!

You guys are awesome. But you seriously have to figure out this whole sleeping thing. Soon.

Love,
Mommy