Countdown to the Beach -- Yikes

I realized today that our annual beach trip with a bunch of friends (and kiddies) to the outer banks is a mere 2 ½ months (or 11 short weeks) away. This also means that I will soon be faced with the arrival of shorts and swim suits season – sooner rather than later here in Dixie. Unfortunately, I will likely be dragged kicking and screaming from my jeans and boxy sweaters – it’s 75 today and I’m hanging tough with jeans and an over-sized long-sleeve t-shirt. The problem, you see, is that it turns out that having a 2nd baby and c-section at the age of 38 is not so great for one’s figure (let alone your ability to do basic things such as comb your hair or put on make-up)

When I had Joey, I gained 35 pounds but luckily managed to take most of it off in about 3 months and was able to regain some semblance of my old self. Not so with baby #2. Sure, I naively thought I was doing great when I managed to gain LESS weight with Abby – I left the hospital giddy with anticipation of fitting into my old clothes by Christmas – and I also assumed that left me some room to satisfy my chocolate addiction. Silly me. Sure, my stomach had never QUITE returned to its former (never-glorious) but reasonably flat self after Joey, but I was never much the bikini-type anyway. Well, this time around has been a rather rude awakening to my approaching middle-age and what carrying out in front will do to you. You see, I am STILL 12-15 pounds over my pre-pregnancy weight (depending on the day). I have been on Weight Watcher’s since the start of the New Year and have only managed to lose only a paltry 8 pounds. That’s maybe a pound a week if I’m lucky – and that has included me trying to cram in some exercise in the form of walking any day I can manage it. You’d think that I could count hauling a whiny 2 ½ year old and chunky little 13+ pound formula vacuum around with me at ALL times (I swear I only have about 2 hours a day when I am not holding a child) as exercise, but it doesn’t seem to be having much affect. Also, even when I do manage to wake up looking only 2 months pregnant, after I eat breakfast (or a freaking tootsie roll for that matter) I immediately pouch out like I am five months pregnant. I’m guessing after a day or two of drinking at the beach I’ll look like I am ready to deliver again (only this time it will be a case of Blue Moon).

So, I’ve watched the days of winter and big bulky clothes slip all too quickly away towards the dreaded summer clothes which will now display my post-baby flab, newly acquired varicose veins and shiny white skin in all their glory – and I am not a happy camper. The other issue is that I have REFUSED to buy new clothes in a bigger size so I have been wearing the same 3 outfits for the past four months. I suspect the neighbors are starting to wonder why I don’t seem to own anything beyond a two pairs of old baggy jeans (sadly borrowed from my mother who lost weight and is now wearing my old clothes that I can’t fit into) and 3 long-sleeved t-shirts. They are probably frantically nominating me for “What Not Wear”. I fear that I may be forced into a shopping trip that will no doubt throw me into a serious state of depression after having to not only buy larger clothes, but also view myself in the never-flattering dressing mirrors/lighting. I am considering a mumu for the beach – or at the very least one of those attractive reinforced pointy-boob, tummy panel and skirt bathing suits that our mothers always wore (and I now understand why).

I've sent a plea to the other women going to the beach with us to please le their thin and in-shape selves go a bit so that when I am lying next to them on the beach, small children don’t run up and try to roll me back into the ocean in an effort to save me yelling “Quick, before it dies!” (like I’ll really make it to the actual beach with a 2 year old and a 7 month old).

In the meantime I will continue to plug away on my weight-watchers. I currently thank a higher power every day for the invention of the one-point chocolate snack cake – although it unfortunately turns out that if you eat 10 of them, its still 10 points.

While I'm at it... yesterday's quote of the day from Joey while we were driving home from the airport after picking up his Daddy (we had the windows open):

Daddy, shut the window so I can hear mommy!

The Joys of Working From Home

OK, I have to apologize in advance that I am posting YET another entry centered around my child's bathroom habits, but it seems to be taking over my life lately.

It is proving to be very hard to sound professional on the phone when you have a baby screaming in the background and a toddler talking to you. This is one of the downsides of working from home – inevitably when I am trying to conduct a work call one of my kids decides to act up. Today, the Washington State Patrol called me to clarify the POP Center's 501c3 status. I was on the phone with a captain and Abby starts howling in the background on her changer. So, I offer an apology and explain that I work out of my house. I then go into the other room and try to resume sounding at least mildly professional. At that moment, Joey walks in from outside (with my mother) comes over to me and announces in a loud voice “Mommy, I have poop.” I turn and try to run away in hopes that the officer might not have heard that lovely pronouncement and Joey CHASES me into the other room and yells –“Mommy, I have poop. Check” (turning his bottom so can look down the back of his jeans). Realizing I have no hope of escape I excuse myself to the officer and tell Joey that he does indeed have poop and I will change him as soon as I get done on the phone. I go back to my conversation, but realize it’s hard to be taken seriously when poop has become the main topic of conversation in the background. I think I need some sort of locked chamber to do work in.

The Poopy Present

So, last night we had a big and rather unexpected moment. Joey used the potty for #2. I was surprised because I was getting him ready for his bath and he said he wanted to use the potty -- I assumed he would do his usual little bit of pee pee, but then the toilet made it's "DA DA DA" nosie that it makes when it has been used (like a king or the President is arriving or something) and Joey declares "Mommy, I poopied on the potty!". He stands up and he's right! Sure, it's not much to speak of, but he's done it nonetheless --I'll take what I can get.

So, after two exciting phone calls to his Grandma's to inform them of his feat, we start discussing his "poopy present" that he has been promised (and has been talking about) for several weeks. He is distressed to learn that he has to wait until the next day since it is Sunday night and the toy stores are rather inconveniently closed. I think that must have given him some time to come up with a master plan though.

We discuss the poopy present all evening and this morning on his way to school. The deal is that we will go get it after I pick him up from school. When I arrive in the afternoon to get him he is VERY excited. He announces to an older gentleman in the parking lot that he is on his way to get a "poopy present" -- a little TMI for that guy I'm sure.

So, we head out and he asked me where we were going to go to get his present and I told him Target or Toys R Us – and he asked if we could add Walgreens to the list in case he didn’t find anything at the other two places. So, we decide on Target first and he spends about 15 minutes going up and down the aisles checking everything out – he said he wanted cars, trucks or trains. He debated for awhile over a couple of 10 packs of matchbox cars and a tractor, but then decided he wanted to go to Toys R Us – so he walked me out without a single attempt to get anything and got into the car. On the way to Toys R Us he announces that he is looking for a truck with cars on it. So, we get to Toys R Us and he says he wants to go to the car and truck section. We spend another 15 minutes wandering up and down the car aisles and he walks down the side until he sees there are no more car aisles and then goes back to the two he has been perusing. He finds the truck my mom got him for Xmas and thinks he wants that until I explain that he already has it but he could get new cars for it. He starts quizzing me about exactly what he can get and I explain that I will get him one bigger car/truck or I will spend about $10 on smaller cars. So, he debates between cars and trains for awhile (discussing it with me – adding in that the Easter Bunny might bring him the train) and then decides on a small trash truck he liked for $4 and a box of matchbox cars for $5. He says “OK, let’s go home” – so we go up and pay and he takes his bag and goes to the car without any arguments.

It cracked me up how much he thought about it all and debated the one big car vs. several little cars option and also considered the train. He would present me with options and I would tell him, yes, you could do that or no, it’s too expensive – and he made his choice that way.

Also, one more quote of the day...

We were outside and I was pushing him on the swing and I told him that I wanted to run in and wash my hands. He responded (quoted exactly), "You know you can use the hose to wash your hands off out here." He has an answer for everything...

Photo of the Day

Here is a photo I took this afternoon..
I know I seem to be writing about poo a lot lately, but what can I say... my life seems to be overwhelmed by it lately. We’re trying to potty train Joey and he doesn’t want to use the potty for #2. Every day when he comes home from preschool he runs outside to this spot for some “privacy” and does his business. I’m thinking I should probably put a magazine holder with some toys r us ads and Thomas the Train books out there. His other maneuver for when he has to pee is to go into the bathroom and shut the door telling me to “go away”. About a minute later the door will open and he will toss his diaper out at me saying “here you go”.

Today’s Quotes:

Me: Joey, are you ready to take your bath?
Joey: Not so much

My Mom: Joey, let’s put your jacket on for school
Joey: MMM… let me go outside and check the temperature (goes to back door and opens it to check)

The three words that best sum up my life...

So, what are the three words you ask? Projectile Baby Diarrhea. Yes, I feel that really sums up life here in suburban Charlotte at the moment. We’ve been dealing with one illness after another in our house since February 7th. Well, just as we started to see the light at the end of the tunnel last weekend, Joey decided to quash whatever hope we might have been harboring for a normal life again when he produced some rather explosive poos after complaining of a tummy ache and having an alarmingly distended belly. So, after yet another visit to Urgent Care and the pediatrician (I’m thinking of asking them to name a wing after me as I have contributed so much money to the practice) we learn that he does indeed have a GI infection but there is nothing to do but wait it out. The worst moment came in the middle of the night on Sunday/Monday when he woke up at 3 a.m. yelling that he was “wet” – I won’t go into great detail here, but let me just say I’ve never seen so much poo in my life – and in the middle of the night just to add to the fun!!!! Also, whilst this is going on, Abby’s rash on her head continues to get worse and she spends a great deal of time howling and scratching at her head. She looks like I haven’t bathed her since she came home from the hospital because I keep her head lathered up with Vaseline – she’s like a greased pig most of the time.

So, yesterday we have to keep Joey out of school one final day (god help me) to ensure that he is fully recovered. Miraculously, Abby’s head is in reasonable shape so I decide to make use of the day and take them to get their pictures taken – a feat I have been trying to accomplish for the past two months without success. So, I bathe Abby and get them both dressed into their picture outfits and actually arrive at Sears (yes, I go high end!) on time. I foolishly congratulate myself. The studio is unfortunately staffed by only two people and there are other customers there. So, we wait for 15 long minutes (as you all know, 15 minutes of wait with a 2 year old and an infant is like 15 days in kiddie time) and finally get in to get the pictures done. Of course, Abby, who ALWAYS smiles even when she’s got a red itchy head, decides she doesn’t like the photographer and proceeds cry. Joey decides he doesn’t want to sit next to Abby and wants me to hold him, so he cries too. After numerous attempts we finally get one decent picture of the kids together and couple of each of them separately. I consider it a success… So, we go out to the computer to view the photographs and Joey decides he wants to go home – NOW – and he wants a new matchbox car for his trouble. As I’m holding him and waiting for the lady to enter our order my dear sweet boy says in a loud voice “Mommy, I’m pissed.” Now, I’ve never heard this out of his mouth before so I assume I must have heard him wrong and I ask him “What did you say?” and he repeats in another loud tone “I’m pissed. I want to go home.” My mom, who is along for the fun ride, snorts in laughter and after a minute the Sears lady figures out what he said and starts laughing too. I say “What did your Daddy teach you!” to deflect any blame from myself – and honestly I do think he got that one from Joe—although I have to take the heat for “Dammit”. That’s my sweet boy…

The day was completed later in the evening when Abby decided to start projectile vomiting up what must have been a full day’s worth of formula and then follows it up with a case of projectile diarrhea at around 11:30 p.m. So, I lay her on the changing table (in the dark) and proceed to start changing her diaper. All of the sudden I heard that fateful noise…. And feel the warm stinkiness on my arm and in my hair – yes, she has projectile pooped on me – and, that dear sweet little baby apparently has some skill with this as she managed to hit not only me, but also the rug and the ottoman that is about 3 feet away. So, after a quick shower, I head down to bring in the new day on my knees scrubbing up baby poo from the floor and furniture. As I’m doing this I ponder what happened to the old me who had a full-time job, a decent wardrobe that consisted of something beyond jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt, wore make-up, engaged in adult conversations that didn’t include phrases such as “don’t feed your sister dog food”, and hair that was occasionally brushed and styled.

So, I’m considering running off to Europe, changing my name and starting a new life – but I fear Joe would hunt me down and deposit the children on my doorstep. JJ And I suppose I might miss them a bit after awhile.... so life goes on. J Also, another lesson I have learned recently is that once your child really starts talking, you need to watch EVERYTHING you say as they seem to take it all in and then wait for the most inappropriate moment to use their newfound language skills. In addition to the “I’m pissed” comment from yesterday, below are a few other little nuggets that have come out of Joey’s mouth as of late (in addition to “why” after EVERYTHING)….


Me: Muttering under my breathe after making a wrong turn “That wasn’t so bright”
Joey: For the next 20 minutes “Mommy not so bright”.

Joey: To his friend Charlie who was having a meltdown “Chill my man” (Joe says this to him sometimes).

Me: Joey, let’s go up and have your bath and get your jammies on
Joey: Not looking up from his train set “That’s a possibility” (no idea where that one came from).

Joey: As I’m driving us to my mom’s “Mommy, slow down, there are cars coming the other way” (he’s quite a back seat driver).

Me and Joe to Blackjack when he’s barking: “Blackjack, stop it!”
Joey: To Abby when she’s crying “Abby, Stop It” (Yelling)

Joe’s Aunt Kathy: “Hi Darling” (to Joey)
Joey: Why you call me “Darling?”
Kathy: What should I call you?
Joey: You can call me Buster Brown.

Joe: While driving – “Come on Snapperhead”
Joey: To everyone in front of us when driving “Come on Snapper”