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Moments of Sanity -Take 2

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Ugh...

...to the stomach flu. I guess that's what's I've got. An early Christmas present from my mother. I felt normal last night...Lily was having a tough night, and didn't fall soundly asleep until 1 am. Still felt fine. I woke up at 3 feeling AWFUL...and promptly began losing fluids from both ends. Lovely. Jeff came to check on me before he left for work at 6:30...I felt really good...laying down, anyway. I heard Andrew playing football in his room "Go linebacker...TOUCHDOWN", so I knew I needed to get into the shower. Fast forward 2 minutes to blacking out in the shower. Yikes...I didn't want to carry Lily around if I was going to black out. So I tried to eat something...and again it came out both ends. So I called my angel husband...who wasn't even at work yet. He did a U-turn and came back to care for the kids. He's just left so he can at least work a half day (don't worry...no more blackouts).

The best news is...I have visions of Andrew starting to exhibit symptoms on the plane in 2 days. So all I can say is...ugh.

BTW...Congrats to our friends Bill and Annie...their daughter was born yesterday morning...Reina Maria, 6lbs,6oz, 19 inches long.

Sleep, glorious sleep!

I am proud to announce that in the last 8 nights, Lily has slept 6 or more hours during 6 of those nights! Okay, maybe not slept. But she didn't eat for that long. Yippee! You know what this means...I better order some birth control so we don't have another little screamer in 9 months. Especially now that I'm sleeping more and have more energy!

(oh, was that too much information for my family members? you don't want me to talk about my sex life on here? it makes your eyes bleed? i'll try to refrain, but how did you think Lily and Andrew got here in the first place?).

Life changes

Having Andrea here made me realize just how quickly life changes. She is a college senior...well, her first senior year anyway. It honestly doesn't seem that long ago that I was there...and I guess it has only been 8 years. But yikes!

Andrea is a GREAT aunt. She is eternally patient with her nephew, who alternates between giving her evil looks out of the corner of his eye and making her play endless rounds of football. Her niece is a bonafide momma's girl ALREADY, so any "quality" time with her involves walking around with a screaming baby. And all Andrea's skills come so naturally...I know she doesn't have much experience with little kids or babies.

I could tell after a few days that Andrea had had enough of our little funhouse. Really, I think it is quite shocking. Last week, she was studying for finals, kissing her boyfriend, watching movies, talking about interesting scientific discoveries or hypothetical ethical questions. She maybe went out for a quick bite to eat or popped into the car to run quick errands at fun places like bookstores or music and movie stores. Then she came to my house. We take HOURS to just shower and get ready in the morning. Loading into the car involves one SCREAMING infant, dragging a reluctant pre-schooler into his car seat, watching Toy Story and Cars...just one more time. And that is just when we get out of the house...which only happened once or twice while she was here. I tried to think of interesting things to do...really I did! We went to a puppet show...which sucked beyond sucking because it turned out to be a final project for a local adult ed college. We went to see the incredible lights display near our house, but Lily screamed her head off almost the entire time...very relaxing. We did have a good time at the Please Touch museum...Andrea seemed very excited about the pretend grocery store and rolling balls display.

Most days we were just at home, though. Not too exciting. And it made me remember being Andrea's age. Of course, when I was Andrea's age, I was married, teaching 5th graders, living in California, trying not to kill myself. But when I was a senior in college I mean. Good Lord...looking at a family with kids seemed so far away. I try to see my life through Andrea's eyes. No freedom. No traveling. Cleaning up poop all day long. Staring blankly at my husband through sleepy eyes with nothing to talk about but poop. Who am I kidding, Andrew doesn't even let us get a word in edgewise about that.

Now, just 8 years later, I am where I want to be. Some days I think I must be crazy to want this life...but amazingly it is just the right fit (maybe minus all the moving). I want to be getting cheezy thumbs up from my very own little dork. I want the sticky kisses and the soft "You're the one I love" whispered in my ear at night. I want to play tea party with dinosaurs and to drop my fork on the floor for the 30th time (just to hear the giggles) and to hide a candy cane on the tree so a little person can search for it, only to throw a tantrum in frustration 30 seconds after not being able to find it. I want to rock a baby for hours, just to keep her from crying. To gaze into a tiny face and talk like a moron, if only to hear that sweet little coo or see that squinty smile that lights up her face. I want to look up from these two little creatures and groan and roll my eyes and laugh and laugh and laugh with that one other person who understands what it means to love them so much it hurts. To cherish every minute alone with my husband, because those moments are so rare it makes them precious. I want that special gift of seeing the world new through little ones eyes...even if it means I haven't seen a movie in 2 years, or have anything interesting to say at dinner parties, or never really get invited to dinner parties anyway. I know deep down I have plenty of time left to do those things...these are just a few years out of a hopefully long life.

I'm glad I am where I am. But I'm also glad I didn't get here too early. If she wants to, Andrea will get here soon enough...and hopefully by then, I'll be the one going on a cruise and she'll be cleaning up poop at home ;) (for the record, I'm not at all jealous, Andrea)

Bud Light Year

You'll notice my posting falling off a bit this week. It's because we have visitors, so I actually have people to tell my stories to, and don't need a blog to have a conversation. ;)

Mom, Dad, and Andrea drove in on Friday. Andrew is having a BLAST. Pepere is tired. Memere is barfy (why does she always get the stomach flu when she's away from home? Or is it just when she visits me? It is? Ugh.) Andrea is tired (she stays up like she's in college, but since she is sleeping in the toy room, she gets a 7 am wake up call...or a wake up tickle).

Anyway, we're having fun. But I have to poke a little fun at my college age sister. She is a senior in college. You just have to know that to laugh at my story.

So she's playing with Andrew for a little while. He's making her play Toy Story. Do you know that one? It was the original Pixar film. A little boy named Andy has an old loved cowboy doll named Woody and a new space hero named Buzz Lightyear. Well, Andrea doesn't have kids. She doesn't have to watch cartoons all day long. So to adapt to playing with her nephew, she's inadvertantly changed the game to something she's more familiar with. Andrea comes in to tell me about playing with Andrew. "We were playing pretend. Andrew was Woody and I had to be Bud Lightyear".

Yes...Toy Story 3. Little Andy grows up and brings Woody to college. But instead of bringing along his old pal Buzz, he gets a new, more grown-up action figure...BUD LIGHT YEAR! Instead of fighting space aliens, he battles awkward social situations by relaxing you and making you funny.

Ahhhh, thanks for the laugh Andrea!

my xmas wish

Generic Human

There are generic brands of just about everything in the world. Did you ever know that there are generic people too? Yup...that's me!

This post is in response to those of you who believe that Lily looks like me. It's not just those of you posting comments. Some people out in the real world have made this comment to me as well.

She does not look like me. Sorry, but she has everything from Jeff's color and shape eyes to her grandmother's freaky toes (sorry, Linda). She is a Spurgeon up and down. A few days after her birth, my MIL even brought me a newborn picture of Lily's Aunt Sara to squelch any hopes I may have had that my child looks like my side of the family. Sara and Lily could have been twins at birth. Seriously. Except for the slightly hairy shoulders, this child merely used my womb and made me puke a lot...none of my genes were used.

That being said...you are not entirely mistaken, people-who-think-I-spawned-a-child-like-me. On our first date, the city bus driver did ask Jeff and I if we were brother and sister (let's all say it together, shall we? EWWWWWWW!). And, no, Jeff and I are not related, we merely have that corn-fed Midwestern look in common.

Oh, and I do look a bit like everyone. I have been blessed with very generic features...hence the title of this post. I am not putting myself down. It is the truth. I have no distinguishing features. If I were to rob a bank, and the teller was asked to describe me, what exactly would they say?

"Uh, she was average height...well, maybe kind of tall, but not memorably so. She had mousy brown hair...not light, not dark, not memorable. Her eyes were...gee, I don't know what color her eyes were. Brownish? Greenish? Her nose was not too small, not too big, no bumps or anything memorable. She wasn't skinny, but not exactly obese. No glasses, no birthmarks, no hump, limp, or stutter." You get the drift? This means a few things:

a) I look a little bit like everybody. Just live in my shoes for a week and you will hear at least 3 times, "Oh my gosh, you look just like my cousin/sister/best friend/ex-boyfriend's little sister/neighbor". I look a little like everyone.

b) I should TOTALLY be an undercover cop. Or bank robber. Or CIA agent. I would just blend into the background. I wouldn't even have to wear a mask or a disguise. I would just blend into the fabric of humankind.

So there you have it. Lily doesn't look like me. Well, no more than any of you reading this looks like me. :) But have no fear...I will make my mark on the child yet. She will spend a lot of time with me for the first quarter of her life. I've already corrupted Andrew...he's way weirder than anyone in Jeff's family. What other child do you know asks if his milk is "strawberried up". Or asks what color his poop is. Or plays pretend for hours with containers of glue...not gluing things, but making them talk to each other, play football, go to school, etc. Or sings to the tv, "This is the way the Buckeyes win, Buckeyes win, Buckeyes win" (to the tune of Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush). Oh wait, that last one is his grandmother's fault, not mine.

Learning the dialect...

I am slowly learning how to "talk Philly". I was just starting to fit a few "Y'alls" into my vernacular, and now I have to start all over learning how to fit in verbally.

Here's my first Philly sentence: "I'd like wudder with my steak".

That can be interpreted as: "I'd like water with my Philly cheesesteak".

Yup...wudder. Wudderfalls, icewudder, sparkling wudder. I'm sorry, but that sounds dumber to me than any southern twang ever did.

Oh, and once again it is "soda" not "pop". We had a debate on my dorm floor freshman year about whether carbonated beverages were soda or pop. Now that I have lived on the west coast, the "south" (kind of), and the east coast, I have to admit that it is soda. Sorry Mid-westerners...but we're outnumbered. Not that it means I'm changing. I've already got a little 3 year old who calls it "pop". We may not live in Ohio, but gosh darn it, we're going to cling to the few distinctive phrases we've got! But I'll now admit that it is not the "normal" word. At least it's better than those freaks down south that call everything "Coke". Because that makes sense (no offense to the few rogue southerners that read this...but seriously? That's like calling all types of cereal Cheerios. "Yes, I'll have cornflakes Cheerios please". )

More pictures

A few shots of our family together. And one of our "New blue house" as Andrew calls it, for those of you who haven't seen it. I do love this house...I feel like we just fit in it perfectly...except for my master bedroom furniture. :)

Andrew update...

Obviously Andrew hasn't been driving me as crazy the last week or so. He seems to be adjusting to the boring life at home with Mommy and Lily. I have also noticed that we both do better when we get out of the house at least once during the day. So I'm back to planning errands, etc so that they space out through the week. Even if it's just a short trip to Target, we seem to do better.

Here are some cute Andrew stories:

Andrew was throwing a crying fit about something. Lily started to scream. So I pretended to cry as well, proclaiming, "Everybody cry!". Despite his best efforts, Andrew started to laugh and wipe away his tears. So I stopped crying. Lily kept right on screaming (she's not aware of the game). I asked Andrew why Lily was crying. He poked my boob, rolled his eyes, and walked away. Cracked me up.

Lily was screaming in the car...she hates her carseat under most circumstances. Andrew tolerates this very well, but one time he called out "Do something with that baby!"

Andrew is very complimentary. He almost always thanks me unprompted if we go somewhere, etc. Some of his funnier thank yous include "This is the best meal I never had" and "Thank you for showing me that, Mom" (we passed some Christmas lights) and "This is the best time I never had". I love that "Never had" thing...cracks me up.

We had a little boy over to play today. For the first time in I don't know how long Andrew didn't tell me "I miss Te-tucky". He instead closed the door on Matthew and said, "Mommy, I made a new friend". When I waved at Matthew, Andrew scolded me, saying, "That's my new friend Mommy, not yours". Excuuuuuse me.

Jeff put in a light fixture on Andrew's ceiling fan. The switch is rather complicated, with a button for the light, a button to turn the fan off and on and 3 buttons to control the speed of the fan. I saw the light was on during Andrew's nap yesterday. I opened his door to find out how he got the light on. In his 3 year old honesty, he told me, "I put my Elmo chair over there, stood on it, and the top button turns on the light". Smarty pants. So I told him it is easier to fall asleep when the lights are off. He says very seriously, "Okay Mom, I will not turn it on and I will take a good nap". And he actually left the light off for the remainder of his nap.

I ask Andrew several times a day if he wants to sit on the potty. He always says no. When he turned 3, I explained that most 3 year olds go pee-pee and poopie on the potty, so Andrew needs to start trying. After that speech, Andrew now responds to my plee for potty time with a sincere, "No, Mommy, I'm not three anymore. Not today". Stinker.

Andrew watched The Little Mermaid for the first time this week. He pronounces it, "mer-MAID" instead of "MER-maid".

Isn't he cute?

I can't think of any more off the top of my head. Just be assured, for every crying throw down fit he has, he says something cute to balance it out.