Learning curve, oh and poop

All of Eleanor’s poop looks just like this. Seriously.

 

So the other day I literally caught poop in my hand. Despite being the mother of two, this was a first time experience for me. Obviously I’ve been pooped on, thrown up on, peed on, had things throw at me, been covered in projectile vomit repeatedly… You know, the usual badges of honour that us parents wear.

But this was, honestly, a first.

Sometimes I think that I can communicate with my baby. She seems to understand me when I babble things like ‘Who’s a pretty girl? You are! Are you pretty? You ARE! Who loves Mummy? YOU DO! Who’s my sweetie pie? YOU ARE!!!!’

(Also, I have to admit…. It is slightly humbling to hear your older child talk to your younger child in the baby voice you use. It makes him look slightly psycho. He’s four. And so that would make me…??? Old and more psychotic. Great.)

She smiles a lot while I say these (and even more ridiculous) things. So clearly we are communicating. And so when I ask her things like ‘Please don’t poop on me. Or pee. Please don’t poop or pee on me.’ as I am carrying her to the bath, I feel optimistic. Since we’ve been ‘communicating’, we’ve have no issues. 2 weeks ago, I started feeding her cereal and since then, things are a little more up in the air. Bowel movements are a bit up in the air these days….

Ie: Feed cereal. Poop it out instantaneously. Feed peas. Poop out immediately.

So I guess my plan of ‘feed dinner, immediately take a bath after’ probably was not the most well thought out plan I’ve had in recent weeks. Other plans that are equally bad? Eating hard boiled eggs bought at 7-11 for breakfast, forget to wash hands and lick fingers that are covered in dry formula and accidentally walk through puddle that is actually ‘garbage water’ (as in that liquid that leaks out of a dumpster).

Naked bottom holding with long distance walking is for sure up with these other special plans. And also, total potential Olympic fodder for future games.

Anyways, blah blah blah she pooped in my hand. Then we both took a bath and I sanitized my hand.

Parenting: a constant learning curve.

xoxo am

 

My love affair with TurbiTwist, or how I am extra lame

Just a half-Mothra in this shot. Extra gorgeous.

A week or so into being a full-time working mum of 2, I realize that having a turbitwist really is an essential item in my daily life.

My mother-in-law gave it to me as a joke gift at Christmas and I actually didn’t regard it as a joke. It wasn’t funny, it was practical. And kind of awesome. And my sister-in-law got one too. She might have been less excited about it than I was, but she is a decade younger than me so that pretty much explains that.

I’d used it on and off since Christmas and let me just say that it never ever ever looks as stylish on me as it does on the packaging model. I look like the hugest nerd ever, with extra big ears. My ears aren’t that big; somehow the towel accentuates their size, turning me into Dumbo. Or Mothra. yes, I think thats a better comparison. Powder blue towel head with enormous Mothra ears on either side.

I look ridiculous.

But

BUT.

Guess what saves time in the morning? Washing your hair at night.

And guess what sucks for people who have ridiculously curly hair and live in a State like, say, Florida, where it’s extremely hot and humid and rainy and tropical all the time? Not having enough time in the morning to sort out said hair, leaving the house with it wet/damp and looking ridiculous in a professional setting as a result.

Yup. That is the epitome of suckage. I might have been able to get away with it when I was in my twenties, but since I am now firmly in my mid-thirties it really is pretty damn sloppy to hit the road in the morning like that. Especially in Florida when it quickly turns into Giant Clown head.

And so? Yes, it’s true. I now wash my hair at night and throw it up in a turbi twist and sleep with it like that. And in the morning, my hair is mostly tame and only requires the merest whisp of flat iron to behave. And this, in between the insanity of feeding a baby, feeding a preschooler, walking the dog, my husband juicing a million fruits and veg for what seems like hours, avoiding getting covered in formula, getting covered in formula, changing my clothes again, slapping on some makeup, driving to Eleanor’s daycare and then speeding into the office… Well, this really does help the morning run smoother.

I also think this really helps bolster my ‘cool mom’ factor. Well, even if it doesn’t (which is really hard to believe), my hair has been looking pretty amazing.

Get one. It will change your life. xoxo a.m.

And back to work I go: First steps

I enjoy a pipe once in a while… (instagram bitches)

So it’s the end of May and guess what? I’m going back to work.

I was pregnant yesterday. Don’t you remember? I have to admit that I have to concentrate to remember myself. Eleanor was first and foremost a dream. And then an unexpected reality. And then vividly and sometimes violently present, in a manner of speaking.

One day, she was in two places at once. That’s how amazing she is.

And then, suddenly, we were a family of four.

If you asked me 15 years ago (and it pains me to even have to use that number to go back far enough in my past), I never would have imagined myself with two children. And now I can’t imagine myself without.

This past week I packed it in with Vince and Eleanor. Edward told me I was crazy pretty much every morning when I told him what my plans for the day were. But you know what? Grocery shopping is the big test with two kids. If you can manage that, then it’s safe to say that everything else really can be that easy. He has yet to experience it and therefore doesn’t thoroughly understand. Jerk.

Afternoon stroll

Therefore the Zoo and Gatorland are totally doable. The Brevard County Zoo is amazing and I’m not even a big zoo fan. You know… animals… cages… Makes me slightly uncomfortable. Not the biggest fan. But there happened to be animatronic dinosaurs and that is always a winner. And a splash-pad. Ignoring the fact that we were yelled at by a zoo employee for splashing in an, apparently, inappropriate area (assholes), it was amazing.

Mummy! I love gators. A lot.

And Gatorland? Gatorland has a train. AND, obviously, gators. AND PopPop came and met us. And nobody yelled at us. AND there were hotdogs. Win!

We hit Disney up too. Vince has been dying to go, has mentioned it non-stop for weeks. We finally managed to get a date that worked for all of us. And as a bonus for me, my lovely cousin was able to join us. Since the boys rode all rides possible and Eleanor and I just hung around, it was awesome that she was there to assist in mocking tourists non-stop. It’s an easy job, but someones gotta do it. And she does it well.

Friday was a day I was proud of. I took Vince to the library AND he used  his inside voice THE WHOLE TIME. And nobody yelled at us like the week before.

So I guess you can boil down the things that I taught my son in the last few weeks to be the following:

How to use a remote control

How to operate the dvd player

How to open the front door and run down the street (wait… what?)

How to pee like Daddy does (What? Wait…. Didn’t he already know how t…. Oh. No. Nope. he didn’t. So glad I learned that…)

How to pick up his sister and carry her around like a sac of potatoes (this was not taught, he learned all by himself)

How to identify his sister as ‘his’ and ‘not yours, Mummy’.

How to fluently use the term ‘sweetie-pie’ and ‘big-brother’ and neither used in a creepy manner.

How to pick up and carrying around our chihuahua, in a manner that does not invite dog-bites. Mostly.

How to (help me) make scrambled eggs. And also how to (help me) do the laundry.

Tomorrow I head back into the office. After dropping Ms Eleanor off at daycare for the first time of course. I am hoping that everything goes smoothly. For me, I mean.

Second time through being a mum is way easier. I might have mentioned this before and it’s completely true. You know what to expect this time and I found myself pretty much not fazed by anything. Poop, pee, coughing, rectal thermometers, crying, rashes… whatever. It’s just so much easier to handle mentally because, in my case especially, everything awful that could have happened already has. In some case, it’s happened repeatedly.

Even daycare is easier to approach and so I’ve been gearing up for it for the last couple of weeks. Most likely I’ll still be a mess tomorrow, that’s just my emotional m.o. I am a Cancer, after all. But this time around, I am way more confident in my choice of a caretaker (Vince’s school) for my sweet girl. {ie: She’s not staying in someones garage and that someone won’t lie to us and disappear months later. Still weirded out about that.} (also that sounded way worse when I wrote it out than it actually was. Honest.)

Regardless, it will always be hard to leave your child for the first time. And after weeks of Eleanor daily sweetness, and about a month of gummy grins and gooey little noises I know that it won’t be a cake-walk.

So wish me luck tomorrow. I will be keeping it together.

xoxo a.m.