A (slightly) more sane approach to the holidays

So I may have publicized my annual Christmas meltdown this year. Oh well. When you live with small children you learn that melt downs are going to happen. How you recover is what is important.

I recovered by moving my fire hazzard wreaths to the outside of the windows. I may have plugged them in using a string of lights as an extension cord.

 

The Hubster giggled at me. My Personal Assistant thinks they are "Brilliant!" The Baby laughed and clapped-he'll be the president one day. (Fun fact: I have never lived in a house with exterior lights at Christmas. This feels like a major accomplishment and I could not be more thrilled. And it only took me 30 minutes! I know, I know, it looks like I spent weeks planning and installing this light display, but no. Mere minutes.)

I broke a light bulb while hanging the lights. When I ran out to change it, My Personal Assistant fed Baby...the soles of his shoes. Those brown crumbs are what was left of a perfectly good pair of boots after I left the boys alone with their shoes for less than 3 minutes. Shame on me. (Baby is fine. You don't have to be too smart to be president right?)

Baby proof all you want-the first time you leave them alone with something dangerous-like the dreaded shoes-all bets are off.

I bought a $5 set of plastic Christmas tree decorations from IKEA (assembly required) and we decorated the tree in Camp Bedroom. Because there is a tree in Camp Bedroom with lights already on it, and Baby can't get to it.

There will be a post about how I painted the birches when I do the next update on Camp Bedroom.

I stumbled across an app called Waterlogue that converts your photos to water colors. It is mesmerizing and makes everything look more festive.

It is also making me miss painting.

Even the saddest of wreaths.

But maybe not bathroom mayhem. Whatever. The rest of this post will be in fake watercolor because it amuses me.

The Personal Assistant is still in charge of sending replies to Christmas cards, which may or may not be mailed by New Years. I also set him to work planting some paper whites for some easy/kid safe Christmas decor.

That kept him busy long enough for me to bake some egg free, sucrose free, starch free cookies (sounds yum right?) and make a batch of his favorite marshmallows.

(The cookies aren't half bad for my first time trying to make CSID safe/egg free cookies. It only gets better from here right? Besides, I keep telling myself that what he will remember is that I tried.)

The Personal Assistant would like more craft time, and one of the Moms in my CSID support group is stuck in the hospital with two little boys at home. We decided they could use a care package, so we spent the afternoon making Christmas busy bags and testing them. They were easy and lots of fun. I will share more about them later this week.

My dear aunt confessed that they are laughing less at her house these days. She is the point person for co-ordinating care for my Grandfather as he recovers from a fall (he's doing great) and for her daughters-one who is recovering from an AVM and one who has been diagnosed with a rare from of MD. It is a lot. She said she is hanging things on her walls that she loves-or that make her laugh out loud. I can't do much to help from here, but I do have funny pictures, so I spent an evening looking through old and new photos to send to her.

 

 

Looking a photos from this past year the Hubster and I were overwhelmed by how much The Personal Assistant loves "his" Baby. It is written all over his face in every single picture of the two of them. We are taking time to snuggle, and feel thankful, indulge in hobbies, and laugh at our imperfections. It may still be a bit crazy around here, but it is the funny sort of crazy that we can all live with.

Merry Christmas, and Peace, and imperfection, and giggles be with you.

-Jen

 

 

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Christmas is over rated.

I am so over Christmas. O V E R I T. We decided to do "Christmas lite" this year and I can't even hack that.

Quick Fix: Conflict of interests, snow day

We had a conflict of interests this morning. Kiddo wanted to play in the first snow of the year (sans pants), Baby wanted to sleep in, Mommy wanted to take a shower (solo) and curl up with some tea on the couch.

So we got out my daytime parenting partner: the activity tray.

Just keep moving forward: Boy's Room

We haven't dropped off the face of the earth-I swear! I'm stuck in renovation/unpacking hell, and Daisy is in the throes of fall semester academia. For a peek at what I've been working on...here's what happened today in Kiddo's room.

It gets better.

Remember that "It gets better" campaign? The one about how life after high school is so much better and you don't have to worry about bullies any more? It never rang true for me. Yes, life after high school is better, without a doubt. Yes, there is so much more to live for after high school fades away. And yes, it is much, much easier to be yourself after exiting the petty, pressure filled halls of high school.

The Potty Fairy

Kiddo wants to potty train in theory, but not so much in practice. It has been a struggle. His CSID has not helped. Because I respect my readers (somewhat) I will not elaborate. Let's just go with "It's been a rough year, " and leave it at that. But he's old enough that if I don't do something, he's gonna have issues. So when a member of the CSID support group suggested we needed a potty fairy, I was all over that like white on rice.

Quick Fix: Mess Containment

 We've sold our house! (And now the chaos will begin for real.) In honor of an exhausting solo weekend with the boys, negotiating a deal, while my husband was away with his pals, I give you a new use for cookie sheets: mess containment!

Supermom.

I'm not gonna brag or anything, but I'm pretty freakin' awesome at this Mom gig. I mean, I turned an old t-shirt into a superhero cape and mask in no time flat. Who does that? Supermom. That's who.

In lieu of a real post, here's an actual conversation that just happened.

No kidding, this really happened:

"I'm hungry, I want to go down stairs."

"I am feeding brother right now, can I get you a snack?"

(The Hubster hands me a bowl of plain yogurt and runs away)

"No I don't want it. I want to go downstairs."

"Well that's not happening right now."

He yells. I yell back (he had me up with him from 1-3:30 last night, I am not in the best mood.) I go to put the yogurt away and get food he likes. He cries. I come back and silently put the food down. He is crying.

"I think I need to say I'm sorry, so I took a time out. I think I wasn't nice to you. Then I thought, 'maybe she is right, maybe it's not time to go downstairs' but it made me mad when I wanted to do something and you said no."

I am thinking, Stop it, you're three, but all I can say is, "Ok. It is ok."

There's no moral here. I am too tired. Just a simple, "holy crap did that just happen?"

-Jen

 

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Animal Cruelty.

This looks like a sweet picture of a boy and his dog. It is not. This is a picture of a boy who has run a dog around in circles until she's too tired to move. The poor creature is just relieved that all he wants at the moment is a pillow.

Kiddo is filled with LOVE. Big, big, love. Rough and tumble, flying leap to hug your head when you aren't expecting it kind of love. Climb on your back until it gives out just to be near you love. Big, BIG love. My body doesn't like it, but I get it. Softie, our dog, well, she deserves a medal.

The Ultimate Evening Continues.

The Personal Assistant wanted to make his boat float, so for the first time ever, he took my hand and marched me up to the bath. Then he needed to use all of the colors of bath bombs-blue, red and yellow, so the water was a lovely shade of ick. To make bath time complete, I gave him a few big squirts of Crayola finger paint bath soap and dared him to "paint" his penis blue. So it was also the first time since the he could talk that I didn't have to negotiate to "clean his under carriage".

At 4am Himself woke up screaming, I ran to his room to find him in the chair, no pants. He calmly explained the problem: "I need help getting my shirt off so I can sleep in my streakers". He ended up "in his streakers" in our bed at 4:30, and was nearly asleep when Mr. Baby woke up with a full diaper and teething pain. Mr. Baby then proceeded to pee on me during the diaper change, and thus came back to bed to nurse in his streakers, much to Himself's exuberant delight.

Not wanting to have anything to do with his rather hirsute Daddy, Himself snuggled into my back because, as he explained: "Mommy is one of my favorite characters, not Daddy, just Mommy. Let me see your face. No. Turn your head my way. (Backwards) To my cheek. No! Don't put your head that way! (Not backwards) I need your face! Softie! BE QUIET MOMMY IS TRYING TO SLEEP! Now look of me Mommy, look of me." And so passed the wee hours and my last chance to sleep until bedtime tonight.

Laugh all you want. This ain't over kid.

-Jen

 

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The Ultimate Evening.

Back when Hubster and I were dating long distance, a client asked me to show her step son around town. Ok. Fine. He, knowing absolutely nothing about me or my relationship, spent the evening trying to convince me that the love of my life was cheating on me, and promised to show me 'The Ultimate Evening.' So of course I told the bartender to hold the alcohol on any and every drink I ordered, no matter what I said, and to charge him top shelf prices. Then I went home and called my future Hubster and we laughed and laughed. Fast forward twelve years (!?) later and we still laugh about 'The Ultimate Evening.'

1-2-3 Choose!

I hate tantrums. My son hates tantrums. And yet, here we are living in tantrum central. I know all three year olds have tantrums, but my kid is like Dr. Jekl and Mr. Hyde: normal days are really quite manageable, CSID reaction days (when he feels like he has the stomach flu) are hellish. But since we're going to be living with it for a long, long time, we have to find a way to maintain good behavior.

We've tried many, MANY different tantrum taming tricks (ignoring, 'asked and answered', redirection, and on and on) they have not worked for us. In desperate moments we've even tried spanking, and *News Flash* it does not work-and it teaches him to hit in anger, and it leaves me feels like the worst. Yikes.

But you know what my three year old absolutely LOVES?

CHOICES.

Lunches of Fun

When we found out our oldest son had CSID I was panicked that all the hard work we had done to diversify his diet and make food fun would be in vain. Would mealtimes become a drudge? Would all the food be plain and tasteless? Would my son (who loves to eat) become a picky eater?

The please can I please have a shower puzzle

I need a shower. It is how I wake up. It is my five minutes of not touching anyone. It is warm and therapeutic on my aching back that is not used to carrying around these giant milky boobies. I am routinely covered in someone else's pee, or vomit. I sweat profusely at random times cause I have post partum hot flashes. I likely do not smell very nice. I NEED a shower.

The boys don't give a crap. Or actually they do...often, so when everyone is finally fed, and cleanish and happyish. I run to the shower. Only to be called back, naked, to deal with...something. So I made a puzzle. Something new and novel to occupy my 3year old so he would not ask for something for a minute or two, maybe.

Scenes from a C-Section

"Please, just make it happy" I hear myself say, "Not scary, not like last time." I didn't want to be deciding to have a second C-Section. My doctor was pro VBAC, much safer and healthier for everyone she said. But once again, I am not dialating and baby is not dropping, and he is measuring large. It doesn't look good. We decide a repeat section is the safest course given my history and the current circumstances. My doctor is clearly disappointed for me. I cry a little.

Quick fix: Easy carpet deodorizer plus toddler entertainment

I am stuck on the couch with round ligament pain, the wind chill is too low for outdoor play, and the Personal Assistant want to "make foot prints like a robot." Oh what is a Mommy to do? Deodorize the carpet!

The Toddler Vortex

Everyone is fussing about the polar vortex. They have no idea. The real trouble is what happens to kids and therefore stay at home parents, when everyone is stuck inside for days...it gets WEIRD.

I call it "The Toddler Vortex." It is much more frightening than a little bit of cold weather.

If I could, I would totally put on my long johns and happily go to some office somewhere, rather than stay home to weather the storm my toddler has been brewing.

Here's a sample of our morning, before I was able to so much as drink my tea.

DIY little boy stocking stuffer round up

Christmas around here is a DIY fest, and I love it. I might be crazy, but I grew up getting DIY gifts made lovingly by my parents and I think it is a great tradition to carry on. We have a rule that Santa gifts should be conceivably hand made, if not by us (me) then by some one else. It is a great way to support local (and ot so local) artisans and give simpler toys to our kiddo that leave lots of room for open ended creative play-the kind that builds imagination and inquisitive minds.
That said, stocking stuffing can get pricey fast! A little DIY spirit can also stretch the Christmas budget with out skimping on fun! Follow the jump for my picks for toddler friendly stocking stuffers any boy is bound to love!