A New Place to Hide the Broccoli

My grandfather turned 87 last Friday so on Sunday night our family gathered for cake and ice cream and of course the singing of the Happy Birthday song complete with grandpa bringing in the harmony...on his own birthday. Family after family arrived and the kitchen grew smaller and smaller and soon aunts, uncles, cousins and whoever else started shimmy-ing by one another. On one such shimmy, my cousin Marit scooted by me and little B who was perched on my hip. She exclaimed "what is in his eye?"

I looked at his eye and said "his pupil."

"No Katie, look at the corner of his eye!" she insisted.

I looked. Sure enough, there, in the corner of B's eye was...something. I couldn't figure out what it was. It was dark though, whatever it was so I pulled down on the skin under his eye to reveal: a piece of broccoli. Seriously. Yes, we'd eaten broccoli for dinner but...in his eye?

I was rather large, but he wasn't acting like it bothered him which was weird. I handed him off and ran and got a Q-Tip then we performed what can only be described as an "Operation-esque procedure" (yes, the "guy with Rudolph nose that lights up when you remove the rubber band" game) It only took one little swipe and it was out. I paraded the little tree around so the entire family could marvel at the oddity.

That's it- no tears. No blood. Just broccoli. A first for me as a mother, although I'm pretty sure that my years of removing odd objects from the holes in B's head are just beginning. Case in point: the kid ate goose poop yesterday.

Where Glamour Goes to Die

By some small miracle I manage to shower and apply make-up most days, even on days where I run in the morning.

I planned on running today and decided to wait until after B's nap to go. I dressed in my workout clothes and started the day. B woke up from his nap around 10:45 and by that time it had begun to mist first time in 3 months. I just didn't have the energy to push the 30 lb stroller + two children while running in the rain so, we had an inside day instead. It'd been a while since I'd had one of those days.

 I mopped my kitchen floors, made brownies and even got a little nap in the afternoon- all while still wearing my workout clothes. While these "easy" days are nice to have, they are draining in their own way- since the kids and I are on top of eachother all day. By the time Tommy gets home I'm ready for 5 minutes to myself.

See, motherhood is a beautiful, treasured experience in my life and I would never trade it for anything in the world. I know that I'm blessed to not only have my children but that I'm also privileged to be able to stay home with them; I'm grateful that Tommy's income allows us this large luxury. Having said that, no one ever tells you during your pregnancy with your first child just how your life will change- I don't think it can be expressed; only experienced. No one tells you that you will never, EVER go to the bathroom by yourself again. I laugh when Tommy shuts the door to the bathroom and when R tries to follow him in he tells her "daddy's going potty, I'll be right out." Seriously, can't remember when I last did that. No one ever tells you that although you may lose all of your baby weight, your clothing will never fit the same. You never know that you might one day look down and find a booger on your leg which did not come from your nose or that you'll eat the crusts of your child's sandwich for lunch because you have lost the time to eat.

I did not get a chance to shower today and I spent the day in my workout clothes which somehow makes me feel better and more active even though I know its only in my head. When Tommy finally walked in the door from work I announced that I was going to take a shower. I stood in the scalding water for 10 uninterrupted minutes and it was FAN-FREAKING-TASTIC! I dressed and came into the livingroom feeling so clean and once again human. I picked up my little B to kiss his chubby cheeks when suddenly, he ralphed all over me. Tommy and R laughed at me and B smiled. I closed my eyes and exhaled.

Yes, motherhood may be where glamour and privacy go to die but in those moments of greif over the loss of clean clothes and the stench of vomit seaping into my pants I listened to the giggles and realize that it's okay. My clothes will be clean one day but I know that I will look back and miss terribly the days of not.

You Ate Newspaper for Lunch? Oh, Okay

Babies crack me up. They are so socially unaware and it is delightful to witness them doing something that an adult would never even consider. As I was tickling B last night, I noticed something on the roof of his mouth and promptly removed it. It was a piece of newspaper. No biggie. I guess it just looked appetizing and he took a chomp. It soaked up saliva for a time and then became so pliable it then molded to the shape of his mouth. He eventually forgot it was even there. Weird. Only a baby would do such a thing...I hope.

In other news, I stumbled across a new Child Saver today. I call "busy activities" "Child Savers" because I feel that they assist me in not putting my child up for sale on a daily basis. Cupcake liners. Yes. To the two year old brain they are all engrossing and they kept my little monster busy for AN HOUR! Who would have thought? I didn't even give them to her parse; she grabbed them off of the floor after they fell when I reached for the baking soda. I thought for a second about snatching them out of her hands and then relented out of sheer mental exhaustion (i.e., I didn't want the fight.) And there you have it- cupcake liners are completely cheap, safe and super fun! I took it a step further and served her lunch in the liners since she was having so much fun. Would you believe that my child ate an entire sandwich? Holla!

The Great Strawberry Heist

It’s been a long two weeks. Elk season is in full swing which means that I've been on my own with R and B since my husband is out hunting for more dead animal heads to adorn the walls of our home. Sick.

I wanted nothing more than to run today. To run all by myself without stopping to pick up dropped sippee cups, pinecones or binkies is a priceless slice of heaven. My dear Mother-in-law told me to drop the kids by for an hour so that I could take off on my own. Today’s adventure began after naps and before running.

While grocery shopping earlier in the day R noticed some lovely strawberries and exclaimed "strawberries mama!" The old woman next to us chuckled and I happily placed a carton in our cart. This thrilled R immensely which is such a joy for a mother to behold. The day progressed normally from there and as soon as R woke up from her nap I left the Littles in the living room in front of some PBS show and I wandered back to my room to change clothes. We have a musical fridge which beeps if the door is left open for an extended period of time. I heard the dreaded beeping and yelled in my mean mom voice for R to close the door. The beeping stopped.

You may have heard your own mother explain to you at some point in your own young life that moms have eyes in the back of their heads. This is an absolute fact. Yes, the beeping had stopped but something told me to run and check things out.

I walked to the kitchen. R's mouth dropped open in shock, as did mine. The carton of gorgeous strawberries sat opened on the floor, R stood above, her arms cradling several berries. Her mouth was stained and juice dripped down her chin to her white shirt which was also stained. B looked up at me totally clueless of the offense, his little mouth unable to close as a whole strawberry was locked inside...I could see the stem. He held another in his hand- his lips too were stained. He attempted to shove another berry in his mouth but there was just no room in the inn; it fell to the floor and in the same moment he reached into the carton ferociously for another. I lunged at the berries. R did too and she beat me. She exclaimed "more strawberries!" and took 3 more. She couldn't hold them all and some fell to the floor which excited B who grunted and squealed as he tried with all his might to grasp the plenty that suddenly surrounded him. I finally reached the carton. I looked at the scene in front of me and I realized that I could not get mad; it was hilarious! Strawberries were smashed all over the floor- the two had had a hay day. I took a picture to document the event. B still had the first berry in his little mouth which was still open in whistle form with the stem exposed. At 9 months old and with 3 teeth this was his first taste of strawberries since doctors recommend waiting until the age of two before introducing them as they carry a high rate of allergic reaction. His chubby little legs kicked with joy.

I ordered the strawberries back into the carton to which R obliged and even tried placing half eaten berries as well. I cleaned up the mess, changed their clothes and sat R on the couch to explain once again the rules of the refrigerator; that she must always ask mommy and daddy to get her food, and that she is not allowed to open the door. She immediately opened her mouth "Mama, pease open fridge for R eat strwawbewees?"

Me: "No."