My son was a screamer, or a “spirited baby” as they call it. He was either asleep or screaming the first 4 months of his life. Unless, of course, he was around other people, and then he was a perfect angel. You had to spend about 4 hours with him to fully understand what he put us through. So, naturally, when we took him for his doctor’s appointments, they always marveled at how happy he was. We never knew when he was getting teeth or sick. But, as soon as we got in the car and a fire engine drove by with its sirens on, the screaming started. Or we’d go to a restaurant and someone at the table on the other side of the place was being serenaded with the birthday song du jour and the screaming would commence. I think calling him a sensitive baby was an understatement.

Now that he is older, he’s either hot or cold. He loves strangers or he’s scared to death of them. He’s cautious at the doctor’s office, but still apparently happy compared to other toddlers they encounter. He has a flirtatious smile and a contagious laugh. He’s still sensitive to the point that the pouty lip comes out when he gets embarrassed or reprimanded, but he is well worth those first few months of baby hell.

It's a good thing she's cute. Just sayin'.

Our daughter, on the other hand, was a sleeper. She was either eating or sleeping as a newborn. We had no idea that this was what “normal” babies did. It was amazing to say the least. Now that’s she’s a year old, she’s incredibly social everywhere we go. We still get comments about how happy and well-behaved she is. Every time we go to a restaurant, she wiggles out of the seat belt so she can turn around and face the tables around us. We’re obviously too boring for her.

And then I took her for her one-year well-check. As soon as we got in the exam room and the nurse looked at her, the screaming began. You can imagine what happened when the nurse tried to measure her (giant) head and when, god forbid, the doctor tried to listen to her heart and lungs (I guess they train them to be able to even with all the screaming?). I finally got it . This is the kind of baby they’d been comparing our son to for the past 2 years. This was “normal”.

I took her back to the doctor last week because she started getting up at night for hours at a time and had become more clingy than usual (which I didn’t even think was possible). I was sure we had an ear infection on our hands (you know, because that’s what Dr. Google told me it was). Wouldn’t you know, she’s just teething and reacting in a completely “normal” way.

I’m starting to like abnormal.

Toys need to come with batteries. I mean, seriously, do you get kickbacks from the battery companies? I’m pretty sure we spent more on batteries this year than actual toys. At least give us that first set to get started, and if we’ve been REALLY good, maybe a lifetime supply.

When we came out Christmas morning, all of the stockings were on the floor because they were too heavy to hang on the hooks after being filled with all of the goodies you brought. All of the stockings but mine, that is. What’s up with that? I’m pretty sure I was really good last year. I think I only ignored my kids a few times and I served them vegetables at least twice. I’d appreciate a little more consideration next year.

My kids just love their new toys. But wouldn’t you know that the first thing they wanted to do when they came out to our living room was eat the cookies you left on the plate? We were nice enough to bake and decorate the cookies for you, and you didn’t even finish them? It’s not like you’re trying to maintain a slim figure or anything. It would be great if next year my kids were more excited about the toys we (“you”) spent too much money on instead of being distracted by leftover baked goods.

It’s really nice of you to bring such great presents to our kids, but this “some assembly required” stuff is a little annoying. Don’t you have elves for that? We don’t mind helping out a little, but spending 3 hours on Christmas Eve putting together a giant fire truck, only to find we’re missing that one crucial piece doesn’t put us in a very cheerful mood. Neither do those insanely loud sound effects. It’s called a volume control. Please add them to anything you drop off at our house in the future.

Sincerely,

Mommy

...............................those people that i love the mostest................................

1. Naptime- I’m not sure there’s much need for an explanation on this one. Mommy time makes me a better Mommy.
2. The internet- Between Facebook, Twitter, and Mommyblogs, I have every answer to every question I’ll ever need answered about parenting. There’s always a story out there that affirms that you are not doing everything wrong and that other moms have the same struggles that you do. Of course there are a few perfect parents out there who talk about the 5 servings of fruits and vegetables their kids get everyday (complete with pictures), and the creative art projects they do everyday with their kids, but we won’t talk about them.
3. Mommy attachment- There’s something wonderful about seeing your baby’s excitement when she sees you. Even though you were only gone a few hours, she kicks her little legs and giggles at first sight of you. That feeling goes away after she refuses to let you put her down 2 hours later.
4. My crock-pot- Do you realize how amazingly awesome it is to throw 4 ingredients into a crock-pot and have a delicious dinner 6 hours later? A dinner that everyone in your family will eat? If you don’t regularly use your crock-pot, you’re doing it wrong.
5. My friends- They help me get the kids and groceries in the car when it’s pouring rain. They make sure my toddler doesn’t run off when I look away for a second. Best of all, they keep me from going crazy from no adult interaction and can empathize with every challenge and joy, no matter how big or small.
6. Library story time and Sesame Street- I’m pretty sure everything my kids know came from one of these two places. Sometimes that makes me feel useless. Other times it’s a big relief. I’m hoping Sesame Street will advance with my children so that I never have to help them with their calculus homework.
7. Grandmas- On those days when you’ve had enough whining or didn’t get enough sleep because of your newborn baby, Grandmas are there to rescue you. If you don’t have one living nearby, I suggest you reconcile that immediately.
8. Husbands- I only have one, but I am thankful for all of the ones I know. After a long day of work, they are willing to crawl around the house or play airplane with the kids on the bed. They offer to get up with the baby at night or the kids in the morning to give you some extra sleep. Trust me, we need it.
9. Showers- The second best time of day is taking a shower (naptime probably takes first). Why? Because this is the only time you are ever ALONE (yes, kids even follow you when you go to the bathroom).
10. My kids growing up- This one may seem odd, since most people think their children are growing up too fast. While I do agree with this sentiment, I also think the more sleep, less crying, and fewer diapers at our house is most certainly a good thing.

The job requires you to combine the skills of a short-order cook, housekeeper, teacher, bookkeeper, chauffer, and entertainer. The best part is, your subordinates will love you even if you aren’t great in a few (or even all) of these areas. They do like to yell orders at you unintelligibly sometimes, but they also give bear hugs and sloppy kisses to more than make up for those moments.

I’ve found it easy to make new friends since joining this industry. The job provides an instant conversation starter. If you meet someone else in the same position, you immediately have 1000 subjects to discuss and laugh about. It’s not out of the ordinary (and no longer socially inappropriate) to have an entire conversation about bodily functions. These friends also understand when you have to stop in the middle of that conversation to discipline a subordinate or give over-enthusiastic praise to a subordinate’s work.

While you may have previously spent time with your friends shopping for the latest fashions, staying out late on weekends, and enjoying happy hour, you now meet at fast food restaurants or the grocery store and call it having a good time. On weekends, you try to be in bed by 10pm , because you have to report for work when the sun comes up. There are no days off, not that I’d want one.

For the entertainment portion of my job, I have at least 10 books and 20 songs memorized. Occasionally, I find myself singing these songs in the shower (when I have time to take one), with no subordinates in sight. One of the best perks of this job is when the subordinates take a break in the afternoon.  Although, sometimes I find myself watching their favorite TV show long after they’ve all left the room.

It might not sound like the best job to have, and the pay is certainly not great, but just seeing my subordinates smile makes it the perfect job for me. I am a mom.

..........................those kids that keep following me around..........................

.................Natertot.................

As a parent, my life revolves around stages my kids are in. Rolling over, sitting up, crawling, walking, talking and, eventually, going to school, resenting your parents, driving a car, getting a job, and on and on. There’s always a next step to look forward to (or dread in some cases).

Right now, my toddler is in the “that didn’t really hurt, but you think it did, so I’m going to milk this for all it’s worth” phase. This phase begins when, after tripping and falling flat on his face or running into a table for the 8th time today because he was walking without looking in front of him, your toddler looks up at your reaction before deciding if he should cry or not.

As a first-time parent, your reaction is to immediately act concerned and run to their aide. By the second child, you’ve learned your lesson and know that kids are made out of rubber for the most part. If you don’t change to a “you’re fine, it’s no big deal” reaction, you’re in for some MAJOR drama.

Your kid will bring up the boo-boo every possible chance over the next few days and demand an Elmo band-aid even if there is no visible injury. And if he’s my kid, he will then refuse to put on the Elmo band-aid because he thinks it’s going to hurt. Or if you actually get the Elmo band-aid on, you’ll never be able to take it off, because, as you know, taking off a band-aid requires touching the area near the (invisible) boo-boo and that is NOT ok.

We are also in the “What is this?” stage. It doesn’t matter if you told him ten times yesterday that the object on the kitchen counter is a candle or that the movie his sister is watching on the DVD player in the car (you know, the one that we still haven’t taken out from our road trip two weeks ago) is Baby Noah, he WILL ask you again today, “What is this, Mommy?” And then he will act all enlightened when repeating that the object is, in fact, a candle!

So I shouldn’t have been too surprised when he pointed to a mark on my chin and asked me, “What is this, Mommy?” It was, of course, a pimple, because everyone in their mid-twenties with two kids has breakouts like a teenager (right?). I told him that Mommy had a boo-boo. He immediately went to the bathroom to get me an Elmo band-aid and didn’t let me forget I had a boo-boo for several days, no matter how much make-up I used to hide it.

Pregnancy books warn you that you may become more forgetful while your bun is in the oven. This is the understatement of the century. What they should say, but don’t because they don’t want to alarm you, is that you will become incredibly forgetful during pregnancy, it only gets worse with subsequent pregnancies, and just because you pop the baby out, doesn’t mean your brain will return to its normal functioning state.

It sneaks up on you slowly. When I was pregnant with baby #1, I would often (and by often I mean several times a day) make the short trek to my boss’ office only to turn around in his doorway because I had lost my train of thought in the twenty feet between my desk and his. I would go back to my desk and search for clues as to why I had needed to talk to him. I’m fairly certain my boss wondered if I had lied on my resume, because there is no way someone this clueless would even know how to write a resume, let alone achieve any of the things listed on it. By the time I was at the end of my third trimester, I could barely remember my own address and phone number.

It only gets worse after you have the baby and you’re ridiculously sleep-deprived. We’ve all seen that mom in the grocery store who can’t remember her own kids’ names, and thought, “That’ll never be me!” But by the time you have 2 kids, 2 cats, and 1 husband (if you also have 2 husbands, you have bigger problems!), you will go through every name before getting to the right one: “Na-, Ev-, Ter-, Do-, Rojo, get off of the kitchen table!” It’s not because you don’t love your kids, or that you don’t know the difference between a girl and a boy or a child and an animal, it’s that your brain simply doesn’t work as well as it used to.

Since having baby #2, things have only gotten worse. If I don’t write down everything on a list, I will forget it needs to be done or bought at the store. I often can’t remember if I’ve said something out loud or only in my head and I have to ask, “Did I already say that out loud?” My husband just gives me “the look”, and I know I must have repeated myself. Nearly every conversation I have now contains the phrases, “Wait, what was I talking about?” or “Have I already told you this?”

I’ve read studies (luckily, I do still know how to read) that show that having kids actually makes you smarter, but I’m still waiting for that to kick in. Now, what was I talking about again?

............She's sneakier than she looks..............

I see you playing over there, with your cute curls and your two-tooth grin. You look over at me with your big blue eyes and babble in your own little language. I’m sure if I could translate, I’d discover you’re repeating, “You’re the BEST mommy!” over and over again. When we’re out in public, everyone compliments you. “What a happy baby!” “She is just precious!” they tell me (as if I didn’t already know). But I know something they don’t. I know why you are so stinking adorable right now. It’s an intricate scheme weaved by babies everywhere to make sure the human race continues to exist. You are trying to convince me to have another baby.

I know about this plot because your brother was just your age when we got pregnant with you. On purpose. We fell under his cute baby spell and couldn’t think of a single reason why it wouldn’t be the best idea in the world to have another one of these right away!  Of course, a few months later, he began walking and talking. We suddenly had no idea why we thought this plan was a good one; especially once we remembered the pain he put us through the first few months. His cute baby hex spell must have conveniently blocked those memories out.

Before I had your brother, I half expected a newborn to come out acting and looking the way you do now. But it turns out that babies come out looking more alien than human, sleep all the time (but never at the right time), demand to be fed the rest of the time, and take nearly TWO MONTHS to reward their exhausted parents by finally cracking a little grin. On top of that, some infants are what doctors like to call “spirited”, but what they really mean is they scream all the time. Your brother was one of those infants. The mere fact that you were created is proof that this cute baby hex spell exists.

So I am not falling for your trick. I know what comes before this “most adorable baby in the world” stage. I know about the sleepless nights, the constant crying, and the need to be held every second of the day, no matter what. I also know what’s coming in a few months, when you turn into a toddler. They don’t call it the “terrible twos” for nothing. Please don’t feel the need to stop being a happy baby just because your little game won’t work on me. Just know that I am positively DONE with uncomfortable pregnancies and nearly unbearable infancies, even if they are totally worth it. Ok, make that probably. You are awfully cute, after all.

It turns out that going on vacation with two kids under three isn’t much of a vacation. It took me 3 hours to pack for our family of four to spend 4 days in San Antonio. We stuffed the double stroller (which, let’s be honest, is really more of a bus than a stroller), a bed for the toddler and one for the baby, 2 suitcases, and enough toys and food to entertain and feed an army into my Jetta. (I know! That car’s trunk is bigger than J-Lo’s.)

We left just after lunch, which, in toddler time, is naptime. Let me take a moment to impress upon you the importance of sleep with small children. Without enough of it, your kids will drive you insane because they will either be (1) Whining or crying incessantly or (2) Super, bouncing-off-the-walls, hyper. So, we left at naptime, thinking the kids could get in their afternoon nap and we’d have the rest of the afternoon and evening to play at the resort. The baby understood this plan and obediently took her nap. The toddler did not. The meltdown ensued just before dinner, complete with flailing appendages and high-pitched screams. Enough of a scene to make every parent look at you with empathy, and every non-parent give you the “shut that kid up” look.

When it was finally bedtime, both kids fell asleep pretty easily and we sat in silence on our bed in the same room, prisoners to our sleeping overlords. It’s not a vacation if you don’t have to go to bed at 8pm, right? My husband asked if he should bring our son into our bed because it was a special vacation and it would be so cute to have him sleeping between us. I shot him one of those “Are you serious? That’s the dumbest idea EVER!” looks, but he probably didn’t see it since we were surrounded by darkness. Then, I simply said, “No.”

Around 11pm, the baby started stirring and fussed a little before going back to sleep. Of course, this also woke up the toddler who was now suddenly too scared to sleep in his own bed and came to sleep with us. He hadn’t slept in our bed since he was 2 weeks old. He was slightly smaller and less mobile then. We woke up at least once every hour the rest of the night after being kicked in the ribs or poked in the eye. It was not as cute as my husband had hoped.

The next few days and nights went similarly. The hours we spent at the pool were generally enjoyable and the hours spent (not) sleeping in our room were torture. When one kid slept well, the other wanted to wake up every 2 hours or be up for the day at 5am. When neither kid slept well, we tried to keep their noise to a minimum so that the rest of the hotel could enjoy their actual vacation. And when both kids slept well, …wait, that never happened. By the end of the trip, we were so tired that we needed another vacation to recover from this one.

Let’s look at the symptoms. I’m exhausted. A definite sign of early pregnancy. You might say it has something to do with having 2 kids 2 and under, one of which has only been sleeping through the night for about a month and the other who has decided to stop sleeping through the night since his sister started giving us a break. But, you might be wrong.

I’m also peeing. A lot. Like, even in the middle of the night. Also a good indicator that you have a bun in the oven. You might say it has something to do with all that water I’ve been drinking given the 8 million days of 100+ degree weather we’ve had. But, you might be wrong.

About 3 out of the 9 months since I had Evie, I was terribly nauseous. Hello, morning sickness much?! I went to a doctor, after getting another negative sign on another home pregnancy test, and she said I had gastritis from stress and eating poorly. Whatever. Doctors are wrong, like, all the time. Greasy cheeseburgers and gallons of Dr. Pepper are totally fine.

I also haven’t been visited by my Aunt Flow in about 5 months. You’re probably looking at me now and thinking, “But, Sara, didn’t you have one of those IUDs put in in January? And don’t those sometimes let your Aunt Flow go on vacation? And aren’t they like 99.9% effective?” Those are all valid points, but it IS possible. Just ask Jaime about her 3rd baby. And before you get all, “Isn’t it a GOOD thing that you haven’t had a visit from that annoying Aunt??”, let me just tell you, just because she’s not physically visiting me, she’s still sending me postcards in the form of cramps and migraines.

The past 3 days I’ve been having terrible cramps. Like stop in the middle of what you’re doing and grab your abdomen terrible. So I went to the doctor this morning. I thought for sure this kind of pain meant I was pregnant, and it hurt because I have an IUD and my uterus is all, “You’re not allowed to have a foreign object in here while I’m housing a baby! Hellooooo?!” The doctor ordered a sonogram to check for ovarian cysts, which it turns out I have. I also got a pretty good look at my uterus and didn’t see anything but emptiness. But, you know, those images aren’t very clear and half the time when they were taking pictures of my other two babies, I had no clue what they were looking at. Surely the sonographer would have said something, but maybe she isn’t allowed to tell patients things like that. The doctors might get mad. You never know.

Ok, so maybe there is some compelling evidence against the possibility that I am with child. And we are definitely not ready for a 3rd kid. We’re pretty sure we never will be (more on that later), at least not on purpose.

Pretty impressed with the elephants, tigers, and doggies.

• Luke Wilson eats at Gueros! And he made eye contact with Terry. Terry now thinks he’s famous by association.
• When you try to take a picture of Luke Wilson at Gueros with your new iphone, he will give you “the look” and you will feel bad and not take it and pretend you were just holding your phone up to get a better signal. Or something.
• Gueros has delicious queso. DELICIOUS.
• When you pull out your camera to take pictures to commemorate your son’s (and husband’s) first time at the circus, your battery will be dead.*
• Cotton candy costs $10. But, look!, it comes with a free hat!!
• Nate drools chocolate when he eats M&Ms.
• Nate doesn’t like $10 cotton candy (or the hat for that matter), unless all the M&Ms are gone.
• Nate can run around half of the Erwin Center without stopping after eating half a bag of M&Ms.
• If people are sitting in the seats we paid for Nate and Ella to sit in, our husbands won’t yell at them for us.


Nate was so impressed that he refused to stop watching for a second to take a picture with us.

• Toddlers are not impressed with contortionists or your lame attempt at humor where you strip down to your underwear because your outfit gets stuck in your trapeze. (Adults aren’t impressed with the latter, either).
• People protest animal cruelty outside the circus. And tell you that you are teaching your kids to be mean to animals. Hopefully, Nate doesn’t try to ride an elephant or make a tiger roll over the next time he meets one.
• When you sit in front of two toddlers at the circus, your hair will get pulled at least once. This is your warning.
• There ARE goats at the circus. But, they did not kick pregnant Kim. (Thank goodness!)
• There are also dogs at the circus. Nate was impressed by them.
• Don’t compare your pregnant friend to the clowns dressed up as pot-bellied penguins.
  

  Kim (who does not look anything like a pot-bellied penguin clown), Ella (Nate's best friend), and Mark.

• No person or animal jumped through any hoops of fire. In fact, I don’t think there was any fire at all. Call me a pyro, but some fire would have been nice. You know, since I told my 2 year old that there would be fire. And he’s a pyro, too.
• 2.5 hours and $25/ticket is excessive. Cheaper, shorter shows, please. (Luckily, we went on half price night and got a discount through Terry’s work).
• When you get in the car at 10pm and your toddler demands milk, do not stop at McDonald’s to buy him some because he will fall asleep before he drinks any of it.
• When toddlers go to bed at 10:30pm, they want to wake up at 6am the next day.
• When you make that toddler lay back down in his bed because it’s 6 freaking am, he will want you to lay down with him. You will fall asleep next to him because it’s 6 freaking am. For the next two hours, you will kicked many times by the restless toddler, but will be too tired to get up and go back to your own bed. At 8am, the toddler will wake up for good. You will pretend to still be asleep. He will get down from his bed and get out the loudest toy in his room instead of going to wake up his father.

*Awesome-quality photos courtesy of the new iphone.

**I’m completely ignoring the fact that I haven’t blogged in months. I’m famous by association by association, so I don’t have to explain anything to you!