Lollipops

Oliver: Will you get me something to lick mommy?
Me: Like what?
Oliver: Like a blue lollipop?
Me: We don't have any lollipops
Oliver: Okay. (sad face) I'll have an ice cream sandwich.

Meet my Kids

This is Oliver, the sweetest boy in the world, who has hair that sticks straight up in the morning if his daddy doesn't blow dry it after his bath and 'blue eyes' that are really turning green. His favorite activities are helping me in the kitchen, turning people into baby birds with magic wands he finds in the park, and scaring other people by climbing to the very tippy top of the playscape. He begs to play in our cars and likes to push all the buttons, toggle all the switches and pull all the levers. Then, when you go to start the car, he likes to laugh at you when everything comes on and you scream. His likes also include rain, cats, pancakes, Pixar movies, playing in the rain, sneaking coffee, jellybeans, tea parties and taking pictures of his friends. His dislikes include lizards, loud noises (he covers his ears), casseroles, transitions (ie, bathtime, naptime, bedtime, but doesn't mind bathing or sleeping), sharing, costumes and drinking water.

This is Henley. She is the most beautiful child and strongest baby in the world. She was born scowling at the world but she has come to terms with it now. She enjoys fans, Mam pacifiers, Sofie T. Giraffe, banana, naps, bosoms for pillows, her brother, petting the cat, cuddles, toe licking by dogs, chatting, sparkly necklaces, doing push-ups and long hair. Her dislikes include: Angry voices, teeth, diaper changes, long car rides, eating during the day, sad music, being left alone too long and restrictive clothing.

I am amazed every day that no one has sprung out from a closet and said "These kids aren't actually yours! You have been punked" And then laughed hysterically at the idea that I would ever be trusted with another life, much less two of them. Oliver forces me to look my 2 year old self straight in the eye and then attempt to parent it. I wonder if Henley will be the same way. I know I have it easy with these two kids, both are healthy, neither have special needs or have allergies. They both are super smart and beautiful (even to other people)! And still I wonder some days how I am going to survive to see tomorrow.

Every morning I wake excited about the day that is coming, every day around 4 I am dying for it to be over. I never thought I could work this hard, for this long, for this little pay. But the first time Henley accidentally said "mama" was worth it. The first time Oliver announced his name to me in the kitchen was worth it. The first time she got up on her hands and knees with this look on her face like she was the first baby to attempt such a feat. Oliver's first steps, Henley's first giggle. His early potty learning and her birth. These are such points of pride for me it makes it (almost) forget about the aching muscles, the constant headache, the ever-present guilt, the exhaustion, the second guessing and the sweat and tears.

Parenting is not all bliss, it is not all good, and some of it is down right terrible. One thing is comforting though, I bet you when my kids become the amazing adults that they will become I won't be thinking about the tantrums but the triumphs of my parenting career. Yay for the amnesia of nostalgia!!

A Labor (Day) of Love

Just some photos of our Labor Day! We spent it eating ribs and drinking beer with my lovely family. Oliver had a blast at Grandmommy's house and even took a really long nap there! I think he would move in with his Grandma or Grandmommy, he is totally in love with all his grandparents!

A Good Day

Lets start with what a bad day looks like. It looks like the television being on all day, me being checked out and dinner being a complete fail. It looks like Oliver throwing a tantrum over dinner, the baby being ignored, and Oliver's brain rotting in his brain because I am completely uninterested or too tired from the night before to even try to be creatively teaching him. It looks like no park, no rain, just oppressive heat so outside play is undesirable. 4pm fills me with dread for the next 2 hours, those two hours are the longest of my day because CT will not be home until 6. Oliver begs for food before dinner and I relent, causing a dinnertime meltdown where he will not eat and just wants to be held and throws tantrums because we are eating and he is not hungry. I go to bed on a bad night feeling like if I had just left my children with a half intelligent monkey that day, they would have learned more and been just as well looked after (Fun Fact: Ape milk is almost identical to human milk) and I go between wanting to wake Oliver up and cuddle him all night apologizing for yelling at him over how clumsy he is and wanting to just get into the car and leaving forever. The guilt threatens to suffocate me on a bad day.

On a good day which are rare and far between. The radio is on the better part of the day, but the television is off. We play at the park all morning and find time to do a puzzle or two or other educational activity before nap. There is no tantrum before nap, because Oliver was able to behave like a child all morning. After nap we do an activity like the pool, or cookie making or crafts until dinner. Oliver plays alone during dinner prep and while he begs me for food still, I do not give him anything. He eats his dinner, which doesn't suck. Henley gets a full 3 naps during the day, plays contentedly when she is up and doesn't puke on me as soon as I get dressed. I get a shower. Oliver goes up to bed without screaming bloody murder. Henley gets to sleep at a decent hour and doesn't scream in her sleep every 10 minutes. I fall into my bed exhausted from having to be on from 6am-8pm. There were still tantrums but they were dealt with swiftly and only a bit of yelling.

Wow, is that what my life has become? All I need for a day to be decent, for me to go to sleep feeling more like a mom than a monster is to wear myself completely out all day long? I read somewhere that a child Oliver's age shouldn't be inactive for longer than an hour unless they are asleep. This is so tiring, I don't know what to say. Most days the kid can't take a crap unless I am sitting right there with him. On these days he will not play outside, or in the pool or at the park without me right there all the way. I long for better days, the days when he will go discover the world on his own a little. And yes, I know they grow up so fast and I shouldn't wish it away. Trust me, the guilt for even saying it out loud will consume me as I try to sleep tonight.

6:30

IS NOT A TIME TO WAKE UP. It is a time to roll over, look at the clock and go. back. to. bed. It makes me hella grumpy to make eggs and toast at this unearthly hour when none of my friends are up because their awesome toddlers sleep until 8, or 10 even (though the friend who's son does that is about 20 months pregnant and she may or may not be in for a rude awakening). Oliver insists that it is indeed the time to wake up. He is wrong, but there is no talking to the child. I long for day light savings.

Henley has been going through what all babies go through when they hit about 4 months old and is waking up every hour or so. It is completely unfair that parenting books tell you at 4 months children should be able to only wake once. Yea, I guess they should be able to, except for the fact that this is the time that they 1. Learn to roll over 2. Learn that there is an outside world that is interesting 3. Need to take in the biggest amount of breastmilk that they will ever need. I really wish that they would include that, because without fail, women with children this age decide that this night waking is happening to only them and it must mean that 1. They are deficient 2. The baby is ready for solids 3. To let the baby cry cause it is being needy and manipulative.

I wish they would just suffer through it like I am having to do and stop reading parenting books. Parenting books for new moms are like fashion magazines for teenagers. They will only make you feel ugly. No matter what you are doing or how good you have it, you will never ever ever have the perfect baby they seem to think you should have. I am very much a fan of books that talk about child rearing philosophy but not so much on those that talk about specifics. How to books are for car mechanics, not mothers.

Henley is an amazing child. She talks so much, laughs often and is so interactive which is half the issue. Seems the child doesn't want to stop cooing for long enough to fall asleep. I never really understood that whole "mothering is so rewarding" thing with Oliver. He was so serious, he never laughed and rarely smiled so after a while I just gave up. After reading Nurture Shock I am pretty convinced that my lack of responsiveness was what lagged his language so far behind. I love both my kids of course, but, as a wise woman once said, "You should just throw the first baby out, like the first batch of biscuits." In otherwords, the first time around you are going to screw up and freak out about 100 times a day. By the second, it is down to about 50. You will ruin the experience with worry and fear that the child will never eat, never sleep and will never walk. I am trying very very hard not to do that this time.

Henley on the other hand, is a much more expressive child. Her cries even sound like "mooommy, daaaaddy!" and even though it is frustrating, it is still super cute to listen to. Thank god, for now she takes really good and long naps. Two hours in the morning, 2-3 in the afternoon and one hour at around 4pm. This is, of course, only true if I never leave the house and put her down exactly one and a half hours after she woke up. I miss my friends, my playdates and the inside of my car. I know this won't last forever, and I should take this downtime to reconnect with Ollie and catch up with my reading, so I will just let it be for now.

A Cluster of Caterpillars

Thanks to an interwebz friend of mine, I was able to grow some terrific looking sunflowers this year. Terrific, that was, until they were eaten in their entirety. At first glance it looks like the sun just got to these flowers, too much of a good thing perhaps. However, at second glance you may get the heeby-jeebies. An army of caterpillars - side note: I have grown to really enjoy what a group of things are called: An destruction of wild cats, a battery of barracudas, a congregation of alligators, you get the picture - has taken over my once vibrant plants. These are mean looking suckers! They have spines on their backs.



In my never ending quest obsession to teach my kids about nature lately, I am thinking what a wonderful way to teach Oliver about the metamorphosis of a butterfly. I really hoped it was a butterfly and not some icky moth, those things freak me out just a little. I think it is their lack of shame. Butterflies are pretty and they don't like to be caught, moths get tangled in your hair if you are standing too close to a lightbulb. Stupid moths, clearly the cocker spaniels of the insect kingdom.

So, not having an expert friend to call, I google it and come to find out, we have our selves a coven of "Painted Ladies" butterflies. All the information I could find on them were how to get rid of the little buggers. I guess they are a real problem for sunflower seed farmers across America. Darn butterflies, taking the seeds right out of the mouths of sunflower seed addicted people in this nation, what else would my sister nosh on during long car trips or while drinking lots of beer at the farm? Anyway, for my purposes, the caterpillars are welcome to stay, as they are not disturbing my other crops and they are getting fatter by the day.


Soon we shall have a bumper crop of chrysalises and then BUTTERFLIES!!! I am showing Oliver each step, but to be honest, even with the help of Eric Carle, I am not sure he is really grasping the concept. I sure am geeking out though, this is something I have wanted to do since I was a little feller and my grandmama tied a stocking on a stick and went butterfly catching. We never caught one, but at least we looked silly!!

Picnics

I hesitate to even write about this because I didn't get any video or photo footage of the event, and apparently some people who read my blog skip any post with out photos, which, quite frankly, hurts my feelers just a bit. However, the reason I started this blog is so that people could keep up with us as a family, even though they live far away and so that I could document the lives of my children. So in that spirit, it would be a shame NOT to post.

This weekend has been one of blankets on the grass, grease dripping down your arm, mosquitoes nipping at your nose and the discovery of stars. On Friday, we met some friends at an outdoor production of Annie in a local (not so local to the burbs) downtown park. Now, those of you who know us know that sleep is sacred to the Goss family and schedule is the idol at whose feet we worship. Dinner at 5, bath at 7, sleep at 8. The play started at 8:30pm. In an effort to make summer a magical, fun, exploratory time, we broke the schedule and went anyway. Luckily, Oliver slept from 2-5pm for his nap, so it threw the schedule off just enough to be workable.

A sea of bodies all perched on the side of a hill greeted us as we weaved in and out of the crowd to find our blanket. Thank god we have friends who went earlier and reserved a spot earlier in the day, we had nearly front row seats! As soon as the sun dropped below the merciful trees, the show began. I was nervous about how Oliver would sit still for a performance that was not animated, but he was transfixed to the stage! I caught him singing along to songs he has never even heard before out of pure joy and a need to feel a part of the action in front of him. He delighted at the dog (who was less than professional) who played Sandy, and even the baby was quietly happy during the performance. Side note, it is nearly impossible to nurse on the side of a hill. There is absolutely no good way to comfortably do it.

During a lull in the singing and choreography, Oliver looked up into the night sky. He gasped! "STARS!!! Mommy, daddy, LOOK STARS!!" Yes, there were stars, just starting to appear. I turned my attention back to the stage, but he kept looking up. I didn't get it until this morning that this was the first time in over 6 months that he has seen stars. Thanks to my stringent schedule, my son missed the stars. This is a lesson, never allow sleep to get in the way of enjoying the night and understanding the world. We all left that night tired and happy...except for the baby who screamed at such a fevered pitch the entire way home I thought she was being stabbed by goblins. Car seat goblins are terrible this time of year. She resolved her screaming into a rumbling growl by the time we got home, which sorta made us smile. She was too tired to scream, but by god she was still pissed.

The next day, Saturday, we headed out to the family farm for some downtime and running around hiking time with the kiddos. We had planned on mowing the lawn and doing other tasks for upkeep, but secretly I had plans of a hammock, me and a book. Unfortunately, that was not meant to be as one of my cousins had planned a "bachelor weekend" and all his friends were there playing poker and drinking (and mowing, thanks guys!). Side note, when going to the farm, you should NOT bring a 50" big screen TV. The whole point is to be outside, playing games and getting back to nature...TV will be there when you get back home.

So, we took the lunch that we had bought at the best sausage place in the entire world (love you Southside!!) and packed up the kids and went into the woods to enjoy our picnic. Oliver found the perfect place to have our picnic. We lay our blanket over the soft pine needles and thanked the trees for providing the perfect amount of shade. We ate our lunch, drank some beer leftover from the night before and talked. I will never forget the site of CT peeing on a tree and Oliver standing beside him with his hands behind his back, extremely serious looking, learning how to do the same. "You gotta lean back, son!" Oliver nods. I laughed and cursed myself for not bringing my camera. On the way back to the car, we see a gigantic spider, once again, I am angry we didn't bring the camera, and then even angrier I didn't see the barbed wire that afixed itself to my leg until it ripped into my calf. The spider was worth it though, especially since Oliver's favorite book right now is "The Very Busy Spider" by Eric Carle.

Yea we were hot about 90% of this weekend. Sweat dripped into our eyes and the kids were both sticky, smelly and dirty. We got mosquito bites and chigger bites and I probably have tetanus. But there were smiles on our faces, lessons about growing up and parenting buzzing in our heads and for the first time in a long time, we got to say hello to the stars.