Archive | January, 2012

Sibling Rivalry

30 Jan

My little sibling peeps (Colleen and Michael) and me...back in the d-zay.

…And so it begins.  Sibling rivalry.  I have fresh memories of my siblings and our squabbles growing up.  Most of them ended in my brother tattling, “Mom!  The girls are teaming up on me!!!”  My personal favorite is finding out as a grown adult that my little sister WAS, in fact, stealing my clothes…I just could never find the proof because it was under the mattress of her bed…that she sat on as I rummaged through her room looking for evidence.  It’s fun to look back on that stuff growing up.  I’m sure their memories are full of me bossing them around…even my husband cracks up at old family videos of me telling them how to unwrap their own Birthday presents.

My childhood memories are so funny to me, that I have been anxiously awaiting the day my own kids to start hashing it out.  Terrible, right?  To wish that they would get on each others nerves a little rather than get a long swimmingly most of the time?  It’s backfiring on me, because that’s just what they do.  Three and one, and they are best buds.  Thankfully, even the very best of buds get into spats.

Brianne and Lauren...Best Buds

And so it began… at the sound of little Lo screaming…one that means she’s actually hurt, not just over-reacting (parents, you know what I mean)…followed immediately by Brianne’s defense- “MOM!!!!!  LO LO WAS BOTHERING ME!!!!”

Brianne rushes in at my beckoning to explain herself, stating that Lauren was bothering her….so she “scratched her up.”  (All I want to do is laugh, even just writing about this…side note-Lo had no scratches…)  After a brief stint in ‘time out,’ she agrees to come get me first the next time her sister is ‘bothering’ her.

I actually feel for Bri…she sees her little sister eating her chap-stick…or drawing with her pencils…or eating her erasers…or taking all her books off of her shelves…or taking all her Barbie’s shoes off… poor thing has to learn to have the will power not to hand out discipline to her little sister, herself.  It’s not going to happen.

The little one is an instigator, too.  Very good at setting her old sister up to flip out.  Running through the house proudly declaring “Bri’s Barbie’s!!!!” when her sister’s not paying attention.  Not only was my one year old born with comedic timing…but also a natural and instigating.  One afternoon, Brianne asked if she could play by herself in her room with the door closed.  When I ask her way, she states- “Because I very don’t want Lo antagonizing me.”

That’s funny stuff.  NOT as funny as it will be when ‘Little’ Lo can speak full sentences and physically retaliate with a tiny bit more force than she has now.  Though they get along most of the time…the times they don’t are going to be comic genius.

They already have a problem sharing a bathroom.  Big sister doesn’t want little sister anywhere near her while she’s taking care of business.  Wait till they go to get ready for school at the same time.  I already have one who sits at her vanity to put on makeup before pre-school everyday.  I am in for some kind of ride, I tell ya… and a lot more ‘scratching up’ between sisters.

Happy Squabbling…

Megs

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Rainboots.

26 Jan

January.   Usually the dead of winter is time to go sledding, build snowmen, attack each other with snowballs in snow forts, dress in 16 layers of bulky winter gear to play outside…

This January, the snow boots that I so diligently door-busted at the end of last winter have often been shelved for rain boots.  The type of boot doesn’t matter to my kids.  Just the fact that they need them improves their overall demeanor.

Each day begins with Lo chanting “OUTSIDE! OUTSIDE!” Standing by the back door, often before the sun comes up, she starts her plea.  Cold and rainy as it may be, you’re never too old to have fun splashing in puddles.  And, as worn out as big sister’s old rain boots are, Lo cherishes all 2 sizes too big of them.  (I literally have to put slipper socks on her feet instead of socks so they have a fighting chance at staying on.)

The Boots.

Rain boots and coats on, out we went to take big sister to pre-school…and splash they did all the way up to the door.  Insulted by me for wanting to take her inside right after we dropped off Sister, I finally caved.  Out we stayed…and  down the street Lauren trotted happily.  Chasing a stray cat for a little while, marveling at the eagle flying over head, chatting it up with the ducks once we reached the beach.  The real highlight, though, were the rain boots.

Everyone got to see them.  “Boots!  BOOTS!” she exclaimed proudly to everyone who would pay attention to her.  Sticking her foot out, hands on her waist, admiring them herself…I love the fact that she appreciates a cute pair of footwear.

It’s what I love about kids the most.  They take such immeasurable joy in the littlest things…and often drag me right along for the ride.

Happy Splashing!

Megs

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Pigtails.

24 Jan

There’s something about a little one-year-old in pigtails that melts my heart.  Especially, when they’re my own little girls.  I remember the first time I could pull all the tiny strands of my first born’s hair back into two little piggie’s.  I was on a mission to conceal the natural mullet that her hair insisted on growing into…no matter how we cut it.  Poor thing’s eyes were slanted, I had her hair pulled so tight.  But, from that day on, she sported pig tails just about every day.  She looked completely different without them.

Brianne, 1 1/2, and her 'Piggies'

Those little pigtails are bouncing around countless hours of video, now.  Footage of her running from here to there…and there to here…and here to there again.  The girl skipped walking and went right to running…and stopped only to sleep.  All her cute little ‘cheese’s’ for pictures with those piggies sticking straight up in the air.  Birthday pictures with cake smashed in them…winter days when they got matted underneath her dinosaur snow hat.

Now, she’s almost four.  Most days, she insists on wearing her hair ‘down and flowy.’  It’s halfway down her back now…and only bounces when she has it in a pig-tail that naturally forms a single ringlet.  Lately, she’s been letting me braid it like ‘Tangled…’  Where did those little piggies, go?

I remember having to ‘let go’ of the everyday pigtail routine.  In the hospital, just after little sister was born, my husband brought Brianne into the room with a brush and a confused look on his face.  Clearly Mom’s territory.  I hadn’t told him where the piggie tail hair bands were, so I had to make do.  After that day, I just stopped making a point to always pull her hair back.  It was finally starting to grow out of ‘baby stage’ hair, and she liked having it down so she could swipe it out of her face like a big girl.

That went fast.

Little Lo doesn’t tolerate pigtails too often.  She’s not patient enough to sit while I put them in at breakfast time, as I did with Bri.  All I can manage with her is a Pebbles-like half pony flying on top of her head.  Fits her personality.  She doesn’t look the same without it.  One day, I’ll be missing it just like Bri’s piggies.

Today, at breakfast, Brianne asked…”Mom, can we very put Loey’s hair in two piggies today?”

Lo let me put piggies in her hair…mostly because of the attention she was getting from big sister…and has not ripped them out yet.  Almost dinnertime…  She looks so much like her sister with them bouncing along as she runs through the house insisting on watching ‘Nemo’ again.  Ironic, also, because that was her big sisters first favorite movie.

Lo Lo in 'piggies'

Even consciously documenting each day with photos…videos…blogs….it STILL goes so fast.  Too fast, for me.  I don’t’ want my babies to grow up.  I just don’t.

Happy Pigtails…

Megs

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The Sled Ride

23 Jan

It went about as bad as it could go.  Twenty degrees before the breeze coming off the lake, and all my two tots want to do is go out in play in it.  Half-way through January and it finally snowed enough to cover the grass.  Here we go.

Brief, but happy revelry in the snow...

The morning the ‘winter storm’ made its tracks through Northern Ohio, my daughter woke up at her normal crack of before dawn time.  I heard her doorknob creek, followed by a groggy “Mom…can you help me?  I very have to pee very badly.”  Both half asleep, I peek through the bathroom window to see if all the snow hype really materialized this time.  Oh, did it ever.

“MOM!!!!  IT’S CHRISTMAS OUTSIDE!!!”

Luck for Daddy, I had a doctor’s appointment…which left him to do the bundling up…and bundling up…and bundling up…to play outside for 5 minutes before it’s time to go in for hot chocolate.  Brianne did get a snow angel in, though, and Daddy now has a better appreciation for those sledding and snow-man-building pictures.

Morning after, when the blowing and drifting snow let up a little bit, it was a song full of “SANTA! SANTA!” (my one-year old’s association with snow…) and “CAN WE GO PLAY NOW? CAN WE PLAY IN THE SNOW?” at the breakfast table.  Difficult as it may be to bundle one jumping toddler and another running around with her scarf… eventually neither child could move very fast on account of all the bundling, and ‘play in the snow’ time it was.

I sent them out the door into the snow, and two steps in little Lauren is on her but crying in frustration.  Too many clothes on to get up herself, she is forced to wait for help from a preoccupied big sister or Mommy to put her boots on and get outside to pull her up to her feet.  “Oh, noooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!”  Little did she realize, this was not the biggest problem she’d have with the snow.

Finally on sleds gallivanting through a yard of snow, we head down our unplowed street to check out the lake.  There were the familiar shrieks of laughter.  All it takes is being pulled on a sled through the snow by Mom.  Ok, I run and make an idiot of myself to get them to laugh.  Guilty.

At the end of the street, they both talk to the ducks wading in the cold water…my oldest concerned if they are warm enough.  My youngest might have been, too…I just can’t always understand what she’s saying.  But they both wave good-bye and back down the street we go.  I think we’ve been outside about 10 minutes at this point, and it’s all I can do to keep them entertained for fear of ‘unbundling’ already.  So, I have a great idea.  Someone plowed the road the day before and left a pile of snow…or a sledding hill…whatever.

“1…2…3…GO, MOMMY!”

And flying over the snow pile they go, Brianne crashing to the side on her sled and Lo- oh, no -Lo…face down, still attached to her sled, in the snow. Oops.  Bad idea.  Flipped right side up, she’s got a frozen face full of snow, looking at me like I’ve just abandoned her in an empty warehouse somewhere.  “Oh no!  Oh, no! OH, NO!!!!” She cries in hysteria.  Wipe the snow off.  Pull the scarf up over her face.  Pull the sleds back home.  Come in side.  Unbundle.

The whole ordeal?  20 minutes, tops.  I’m sweating profusely…they are dancing around in the snow chunks that have fallen off of their clothes demanding hot chocolate.  Madness.

Is it summer, yet?

Happy Bundling.

Megs

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“Thank You!”

19 Jan

It’s my one-year-old’s favorite phrase of the week.

“Dink! Dink! Thank you!”

“Pee pee!  Pee pee!  Thank you!”

“Nina!  Nina!  Thank you!”

...after another rough day...

She doesn’t wait for me to complete her request first.  No.  She automatically assumes I’m going to give her what she wants within the following 10 seconds or less, thus thanking me in advance.  (So, that’s when it becomes engrained in our personalities to expect that our every request and demand of life will come true.)

My three-year-old is beginning to realize ,whole-hardheartedly, that isn’t always the case.   However disappointing life can be, at any age, there’s always an outweighing amount to be thankful for.  There just is.

But everyone has their limit.  That point where it becomes hard to stay focused.  For my one-year-old, it’s when I can’t get the snack and ‘dink’ to her fast enough.  Thus, igniting a foot stomping brigade in my kitchen.  My three-year-old doesn’t understand why s.  I’m sure there will be more shopping cart meltdowns before that one is over.  And, lets face it…then we’ll just move on to designer clothes and then cars…and then colleges….it’ll never really end, that one.  For me, it’s not being able to grab a half hour of sanity out on the road running before everyone wakes up.

Explaining ‘being thankful’ to a toddler is no easier than ‘why the dentist has to clean your teeth,’ or ‘you have to be quiet in church,’ or ‘you have to listen to your teacher at school.’  Why cant the appropriate parenting response just be, “you just do!”  If only…

“Chica!  Chica!  Thank you!”

Here’s to staying inherently thankful…that Chica is not on the TV now.  Just the talking ‘stuffed up’ Star.  Yay.

Happy ‘Thank you’s’

Megs.

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The Remote Control

17 Jan

It’s apparently more fascinating than any toy money can buy….

The remote control.  In particular, the one that sits on the night stand in our bedroom.  The one we grab to watch a little TV before we fall asleep…and the Today Show…oh, who am I kidding…the Disney Channel in the morning, desperately trying to put off the clamoring for breakfast and get a few extra minutes of sleep.

My little 1-year-old likes to talk on the phone, and somehow, the remote control has become her favorite pretend one.  More annoying than trying to coax my cat out of my older daughter’s room before bedtime, is trying to locate that remote control in a groggy state of mind. Only to find it in the most abnormal places…shoes (her other obsession), kitty’s food bowl, big sister’s closet, her high chair…

Annoying as it is to locate the dang thing when we need it, watching her interact with it as if there’s a person talking to her on the other end is pretty priceless.  It’s one of those things that we’ll soon forget about over time, so I’m glad I’m writing about it.  I don’t know how it happens, but somehow the things we thought we’d never forget about our girls, we find reminiscing about when we run across old photos and videos.  Like, racing my oldest daughter down the street (pretend starting blocks included…funny, since I could never use them properly myself.)…or teaching her how to walk on that same journey- every day, holding both her little hands…coaxing her along.

Already, at 1 and 3, there are things that get lost in the shuffle of all the fun and frustrating memories we’ve accumulated thus far.  The telephone remote control will surely be filed away and replaced with other hilarious….and maybe not so much so…idiosyncrasies coming our way.  Right now, my one year old spits out new adorable words and phrases everyday, and my three-year-old spits out things I’m quite sure she shouldn’t be saying yet at all.

“Who is it, Lo?  Who’s on the phone?”

Putting the remote on her shoulder and looking up at me as if I’ve interrupted important negotiations, she replies….

“Zszszszzpseeeee…..Pa Pa!  Hiiiiiiiii!  Hi, Papa!”

…then runs out of the room on her tip toes to finish her conversation in private.

Happy Channel Surfing…

Megs

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Daddy’s Work.

14 Jan

What is it about ‘Daddy’s Work’ that is so fascinating to a child?  I remember conjuring up images of where my Dad worked, as a kid.  When I finally went there with him for his retirement send off, it looked nothing like what I’d imagined.  But as a kid, you have to visualize them somewhere, right?  There is something alluring about watching them get ready in the morning, grab the lunch Mom packed and head off to ‘work.’  It seems so cool from a kid’s perspective.

My kids are no different.  Some days they miss him more than usual, and all day long they will grill me with questions about where Daddy is and what Daddy is doing and why Daddy has to go to work and can’t stay home and play Barbies.  They get all jacked up at the thought of visiting Daddy at work…especially now that it includes a trip to ‘Hot Dog Heaven’ for lunch.  (Not an analogy…a real place…and yes, they’re really good.)

Playing at Daddy's Work...

I can’t help but wonder what they think from their level.  My husband works at a car dealership.  Although at times it may seem like a circus to adults…to a kid it must seem like a playground.  Play area in the service lounge, cars they’re allowed to touch, balloons Daddy blows up with helium to take home.  They start chanting “Daddy!  Daddy!” as soon as the service garage door starts to open, and we pull in to see Daddy and Big John waving ‘Hello.’

“I like that one the best, Daddy!” Brianne informed him on our most recent visit, as she hopped out of our mini-van and pointed at the Viper in the other lane of the service drop off.  Laughing, my husband proudly grabs her by the hand and takes her inside…little Lo bouncing right behind them.  Daddy, a hot dog, an ice cream sundae, and a huge balloon…  In my daughter’s eyes… it was a perfect day.  Beats sitting in the service lounge reading a boring magazine waiting for an oil change…

Happy Work Visits…

Megs

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“I don’t want it!”

13 Jan

Ahhhh…the joy of newly found vocabulary to a one year old.  Not knowing the correct context to use new phrasing in all the time does not seem to stop them saying it  non-stop from dawn till dusk.

Lo, the resident one-year-old, has taken to the phrase, “I don’t want it.”  In true toddler fashion, she doesn’t enunciate all the syllables and letter sounds yet.  No ‘t’ sounds…’n's’ not so much…so its funny to watch her try to pull rank on all of us with her, “NAOU! NAOU! I DEO WAAAA Iiiii.”

Naturally, when Lo began to talk we immediately cracked open the ‘Animal Sounds’ game.  When Brianne was that age, I sent my sister a video of us quizzing Bri on her animal sounds every single day.  Some of the funniest times of my life were sitting there asking her to make animal noises while she sat in the bathroom waiting for nature to run it’s course.  She’ll appreciate that one day, right.  Bah, ha ha ha.

Lo Lo and Mommy at Disney Princesses on Ice

Being the second child, Lauren enjoyed the spotlight that the game gave her.  Even big sister was a riot coming up with different animals to stump Lo with.  Until about round 3.  Lauren…being her own person…decided it would be funnier TO HER if she started refusing to make the animal sounds.  Funnier, still, became the ‘What?!?!?!” reaction she received.  Yep.  She spun the game around us, and was now laughing at us trying to get her to make these ridiculous noises.

“Lo, what does a cow say?”

“MOO! NO! NO! I DON’T WANT IT!”

“Lo, what does a pig say?”

“NO! I DON’T WANT IT!!”

“Lo, what does a horsey say? Neigh?”

“I DON’T WANT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“What does a ducky say?”

“WA-WA-WAAACK!!”

Ha!  Even little Lauren has her weaknesses….”NO!!!!! …….I don’t want it.”

So, that’s become her response for everything now.  Certainly, a kid of mine would be the one to go through a ‘NO’ stage by adding more words to it.  Makes perfect sense.

Since my adorable little peanut happens to be the biggest food grazer of all time (I mean…the-finish breakfast-get down from the high chair- turn around and ask for more food-kind…), I thought I’d kill the boredom one afternoon by turning her little game around on her.

Calling my three year old over to watch…I waited in the kitchen for Lo to, ever-so-predictably, come tip-toeing into the kitchen to scope out the cookie jar…and beg me as if she’s starving…for a ‘coooooooooookie’ or a ‘nina’ or a ‘cooooookie’…  So instead of just telling her ‘No’ or handing her a cookie or a banana…

“Lauren, you want a cookie?”

“NO! NO! I DON’T WANT IT!!!”

At this point Brianne is already cracking up so hard she’s raining cookie crumbs from her snack all over the floor.

“Are you sure you don’t want a cookie?  How about a banana, Lo?”

‘”NO-NO-NO-NO-I DON’T WANT IT……..PLEEEEEEEAAAAAASSSSSEEEEEE?”

Now I’m laughing out of control, and poor Lauren is shaking my leg doing the cookie-nina chant.

Finally, feeling like I’ve won a small victory, I handed her a cookie.  Lo reacted with an immediate hug, a ‘dank you, Mommy’ and a tip toe out to the family room to spread those crumbs around.

Who says being a stay-at-home-mom is isolating? lol.

Happy Toddler Tricking…

Megs

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Babbling Lo…

11 Jan

I’m a huge babbler, fully aware that I talk way to much…most of the time at a volume uncomfortable to most…and have to consciously stop myself from interrupting people because my brain interjects with conversational jargon to the max.  My laugh was and still remains to be how most know, or remember, me by…or how they know I”m in the general vicinity.  Also, very loud.  So, I know my two daughters are going to be loud and talkative.  It’s awesome, because they are just like me in that regard, and it’s cool…accept that I can’t get a word in, sometimes!

Lo Lo, my youngest, is full of 18 month old cuteness right now.  I don’t know about the rest of you parents out there, but I know for a fact that my second daughter exists because of how cute the first one was at 18 months.  Whether it’s running through the house full speed on her tip toes with her single top-of-the-head pony tail bouncing around, or listening to her babble to herself amidst a book bomb in the middle of her bedroom floor, the kid has my heart-string wrapped around her finger.  She’s still so fascinated with what I have to say, too.  And when she protests…it’s with a cute little smile.  I’ll take her drawn out little  ‘No000uuu,” with a head tilted smile any day over her older sister’s screeching…foot-stomping…door-slamming ‘NO!’  Although funny for different reasons, I could live with a few less of those kind of ‘No’s.’

Ah, the fascinating cuteness of an 18-month-old.  When she babbles, everyone wishes to know what she’s saying.  It’s so cute.  I’m not sure it extends past our family…but we could watch her for hours and laugh our butts off.   Lo knows she the star of the show right now, and she’s so stinking fun that even her big sister doesn’t mind lending her the spotlight.  They seriously bonded as sisters over Christmas break this year.  There are plenty of moments when Lo comes crying to Mommy because Brianne has shut her door to play ‘big girl’ stuff.  But, right now the first thing Brianne does when she wakes up is ask to get Lo up.  Being the impatient 3 year old that she is, poor Lo is down on naptime right now because big sister wakes her up whenever she feels like it.  “Lo wanted to wake up and play with me, Mom!”  Yikes.

The best is listening to them talk to each other at the dinner table.  I have know idea what they are talking about, but I love to walk out of the room and act like I’m not listening so I can hear them cracking up together.  I know big sister’s are assumed to be the ones that teach the younger siblings.  But you’d be surprised what the older ones learn from the younger ones.  Brianne has to be patient while Lo catches up.  So, instead of getting frustrated, she sits at the table and teaches Lo animal sounds…and laughs with her when she get’s one wrong.

Could it be possible that all the concern I’ve been dwelling over with Brianne not listening is being cracked by her little sister?  Yep.  It sure is.  Live and let live, I tell ya.  Let things just be, sometimes.  Stop running them around shopping and give them a chance to play at home together in constructive toy bombs and look what you get…two little best buds chumming around the house together…play ‘Barbies-a-barbies-a-barbies-a-barbies….’ as Lo babbles.

It’s awesome that they’re getting along.  And I love the cute little babbles…but I can’t help but get the feeling they are already coding their conversations…mom-proofing their jargon so I don’t know what they are up to.  Too soon?  I guess with 2 girls 2 years a part it’s never too soon to start trying to crack the code.  I’m going to have to bug the house someday with these two…no boys allowed…where’s that book…they need to start memorizing it…

Happy Babbling…

Megs

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The Dawg Pound.

9 Jan

I’m a Browns fan.  Thankfully I”m a distance runner and have a natural appetite for pain and discomfort…otherwise, I don’t know if I’d have the guts and stamina it takes to stick it out as a life-long Browns fan.  It takes a different breed to handle all the disappointing seasons…and absent-someone stole our team seasons… with the grace and charisma that we Cleveland fans do.  Settling for discreet heckling at every tailgate…up and down the ramps in and out of home games…battery throwing…beer spilling…just minor lash outs in the midst of the debacle that is our hometown world of professional sports. Trust me.  It could be worse.  No, really.

Despite the fact that they almost ruined the entire NFL season for me this year by how bad they suck at every aspect of the game of football, I still instill the proper football values in my house by teaching my two young daughters how to bark at the TV every Sunday.  This was yet another “At least we have a team” year.  And for the duration of the season, I’m going to root for the quarterback that I wish we would have been able to draft (I told you ALL he was going to be good…doubters!!!)….Tebow.  However, lets face it…we are a quarterback wrecking ball.  He probably would have been awful here.  Everybody is.

Me and my Bro...fellow Browns fan for life...no matter the pain.

So why stay a fan?  Why not just jump ship and put on a black and gold jersey…ugh…I’m sorry.  I just puked in my mouth writing that…even though there’s no way it would ever happen…even in a bad dream.  Yuck.  Let me re-phrase that.

So why stay a fan?  Why not just jump ship and put on a Bears jersey and call it a day?  Cut my losses…move on to a winner.  Oh, wait…I know why…because I’m from Cleveland and not a gutless flip flopper!  That’s why.

The Browns may never be good.  We Browns fans that we are most likely cursed worse than the Yankees of old.  But that’s no justification…I feel…for the swarm of Denver and Steeler jerseys  at the grocery store, today.  I was more than tempted to be confrontational about it…I didn’t have the girls with me…but I I’d just come off as a disgruntled Browns fan, right?  And that would have been accurate.   And I”m not interested in making a Steeler fan’s day.  So, I silently cursed them out in my head as I checked out and went on my merry way.

Lucky for them.  Bri follows my lead when I outwardly grumble about the neighbors dogs barking 24/7 every day of my life.  “Mom, that stupid dog,” she now says whenever they ‘bother’ her while she’s outside playing.  So proud.  Let her at a Steeler’s fan.

Hopefully, it’ll all be worth it for Browns fans one day.  All those home games filled with more Steeler fans than Browns fans.  All the ridicule and ‘factory of sadness’ truth of the matter.  The close losses, and the not-so-close losses.  The constant turnstile of quarterbacks that have been welcomed to our glorious city…and the heckled right the #$%^& back out 6 month later.  All the times we sit and watch Pittsburgh win.  (time out to puke.) With an Ohio-born quarterback (trader forever…double puke.).  Watching the Saints finally win and the Lions finally win…

For now I”m happy to watch ‘Big Ben’ embarrass himself in is post interview in the most ridiculous pseudo mobster get up…hat down over his eyes to disguise his weeping…I’ve ever seen.  Ahhh…comedy at it’s best.

It’ll all be worth it someday.  It could be next year.  Yep.  Maybe next year.  Superbowl baby.  WOOF.

Happy barking.

Megs

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