We've Come a Long Way, Baby

The other day the Hoos was reminding me how - what's the word? - "itchy" I was in college. My parents would probably argue that my itchiness started well before college, so let's call it a draw with me admitting that a good word to describe me would have been "itchy".

One of the Hoos' first recollections of me was in our freshman English lit class saying to the professor, "Buck, this book sucked." His name was Buck, I wasn't being rude, just itchy. We didn't start dating until our sophomore year, so I am not sure if he temporarily forgot my itchiness or if he decided that I looked good enough in my t-shirt dresses that it didn't matter.

In a few weekends, GWU will be holding our 10 year reunion. This got me thinking about how I changed in college and in the years since. Maybe I am wrong, but I don't think many people would describe me as itchy nowadays. I might have my itchy moments, and I am certainly opinionated, and I will roll my eyes on occasion (okay, frequently, but those people deserve it), but I don't think itchy would be one of the first words to come to mind for those that are close to me now.

I don't know if motherhood has mellowed me or if age did it first. I am surprisingly patient with my children and I have learned how to keep my snark in check for when it is appropriate. Maybe that is really what itchiness is? Open snarkiness bordering on rude? Is itchiness a function of age? You are itchy until you know better? Thoughts?

Frozen in Time

When people ask me how old I am, my first instinct is to tell them 25. It is not that I am embarrassed about my real age, rather somewhere in my subconscious, I am stuck at 25. Maybe my 25th year was particularly eventful - I got engaged, married, made a long distance move, and started a new job; or maybe it was because on my 25th birthday time stood still due to the terrorist attacks.

It is really odd having your birthday on September 11th. It was my birthday long before the horrific events of that day, yet still people do not expect me to be too happy or to party too hardy (because I am such a wild child - har har har). Many people also don't like to wish me a happy birthday without also noting that the day is "bittersweet" as if acknowledging that the day has any alternative significance is somehow unpatriotic.

The good news is, in my house, my two little munchkins don't yet understand any of the significance of the date. When we ask LP whose birthday is coming up she responds, "Tuesday is my party." Today is Thursday, it is my birthday, and there is no party, but hopefully there will be lots of hugs and kisses waiting for me when I get home. Oh, and I just got a phone call where LP sang to me an original composition, "Mommy mom, mommy mom, mommy mommy, mommy, mom."

A Revelation

I am one day shy of 32 years old and yesterday I realized for the first time that HEELS MAKE YOU LOOK TALLER AND THINNER. Seriously, folks. I am five feet tall, I understood the concept of heels, but never did I realize that they could be truly transformative. Too bad most of my heels are open-toed. Now I have to spend my birthday money buying closed-toed heels to keep the illusion up all winter long.

Right Feeling, Wrong Reason

Okay, I admit it! I don't mind being back at work. Since last week was my first week back, everyone kept asking me how I was doing. I felt guilty admitting that I was fine. Of course I called day care twice a day to check on Dee and of course I drove like a mad woman on a mission when it was time to pick the girls up, but, really, I don't feel an immense guilt that my children - and especially my three-month-old - is in day care.

I am good at my job. I like the people I work with. I like feeling a sense of accomplishment when I complete tasks or contribute a thoughtful comment during a meeting. I know that my children are well taken care of. Dee drinks larger quantities and less frequently from a bottle at day care than at home; LP pees on the potty like a champ. And I have Fridays and Mondays with Dee.

What I missed most last week was having time to take care of things. There was no leisurely dinner prep during nap time, or laundry loads on quick trips to the basement. Errands could not be run with children in tow, instead waiting to be efficiently bundled into uber-runs during the weekend (still with children in tow).

I feel guilty for not feeling guilty.

I Stand Corrected and at Attention

First, I need to apologize to my mother. She did not buy the SquidSoap at Target because it was on clearance. My dad bought it at ShopRite because he had a coupon and they double coupons. I love my parents.

Yesterday was a glorious day. After the in-home confinement caused by the remnants of Hanna on Saturday, we had some much needed outdoor time yesterday. We went to the annual Norwalk Oyster Festival with the Hoos' parents and his brother's family. A nice time was had by all and lots of free tchotchkies were acquired by LP (because you can never have enough nerf footballs advertising the local banks, right?).

Last night we decided not to let the summer end too soon. The Hoos called his brother and asked if the family wanted to meet us at the beach for a pizza dinner. An agreement was reached, pizza was procured and the beach was descended upon. LP loved playing in the sand and pointing out the moon to her cousins, and the Hoos, his bro and our nephew O, loved catching snapper-blues (baby bluefish) in the surf.

As we were packing up to leave the beach - DEE LAUGHED FOR THE FIRST TIME! She has been goo-gooing and gah-gahing for a while, but she out and out giggled at me at the beach. And we even had witnesses. It was awesome.

Also awesome, but totally unrelated, apparently LP has the first of her 2-year molars. We didn't even know until the Hoos noticed it last week while brushing her teeth. Hopefully this means that the crankiness that accompanies this momentous occasion is moderate enough that we won't notice for the other three teeth.

Summer, I salute you.

Notice how Dee looks like a little koala clinging on to her big sis? Coincidentally there are little koalas on her outfit:)

Inked

A few months ago my mother brought us SquidSoap. Most likely she bought it because it was on clearance at Target and not because she thought I needed it. If you know my mom you will agree with this statement (sorry mom, it is true). Anyway, this is a product from Airborne that is supposed to teach kids about proper handwashing. Basically when you press down the pump you get some ink on your hand that won't disappear until you wash your hands with soap for at least 15-20 seconds.

Since LP has started using the potty she has also become really interested in frequently washing her hands. Hallelujah! I thought this would be a good time to bust out the fancy soap. Two hours and multiple hand washings later, I must admit that LP and I do not have the orange dot of ink that appears in the middle of your hand when using this product. Rather, OUR HANDS ARE ENTIRELY BRIGHT PINK.

No wonder it was on clearance at Target...

The Case of the Missing Vacuum

I have mentioned before that the Hoos is building a kayak in our basement. Occasionally this will require that he clean up after himself, so he brings our household vacuum downstairs. Usually, not a problem.

Today our cleaning woman arrived to make my house presentable until 4:30pm when LP arrives home and undoes all of her hard work. While she was here Dee and I went out to run some errands. As I am heading toward home my cell phone rings, "Hi, Amy. It is Gabby. Where is your vacuum?" (Imagine this with a Slovakian accent). I apologize that it is not where it belongs and tell her it is likely in the basement. "I look in the basement. It is not there." Since I am near home, I tell her to hold on and I will come and locate it. I then call the Hoos to confirm its location.

I immediately go down to the basement when I get home, not even turning on the light. I don't see the vacuum. I go upstairs to run on the light and finally find the vacuum tucked back in the shadows.

Gabby then tells me that she was scared looking around our basement. I figure 1. she didn't know where the light was (it is not in a place that you would associate with a basement light) and every one's basement looks creepy in the dark and 2. my basement is full of stuff and therefore scary in a figurative way. She shakes her head, "No, I mean in that room," pointing to the area of the basement where the Hoos keeps his tools. Here is a picture of what she saw when she was seeking out the missing air sucker:

Can you blame her? I think the Hoos' waders are scary too.

One Trick Ponies

LP's trick of the day is that she pees on the potty beautifully - but only at school. Yesterday, for the second day in a row, she peed on the potty FOUR times. At home, not so much. At least she has learned to pull down the pull-ups and reuse them when there isn't pee in them instead of tossing them. Maybe it will save me some green.

Dee is just the opposite. She rolls like a superstar at home; I think they don't believe me at school, because she hasn't done it there once. Of course, this could be because they don't put her on the floor much. Most of the other kids are bigger and they are afraid the boys will steamroll her if they put her on the floor. While I understand, I still think it is important for her to get tummy time and floor play. Today they assured me that they would work it out next week when a teacher returns from vacation.

My trick is staying sane. I am not really good at it.

Proud Mama

Both of my girls did great yesterday at day care.

Despite the fact that LP was (and is) clingy when the Hoos dropped her off, she had an "awesome" day according to Miss Shauna. In fact, SHE PEED ON THE POTTY FOUR TIMES! Seriously, at home she says she wants to go on the potty, removes her diaper, puts it in the trash, sits down, stands up and says, "All done!" and asks for mishies. At school they say the word potty, she pulls down a borrowed pair of pull-ups, pees and wipes herself. Is it common for kids to be potty trained at school but not at home? Oh, and she had a great time during dramatic play, especially when she is wearing the purple high heels.

Dee was a super star too. She slept well - no long naps though; Ate well, 12 ounces or so; and enjoyed the scenery. She was too overwhelmed to turn over in the classroom, but I am sure she will be back to rolling over in no time. She certainly does it at home enough. And last night she slept from 9:30 until 3:30. She might have gone longer, but I figured since I was up to rescue her from the turtle position I might as well nurse her too.

While I am very proud of my daughters, I am hoping that I will be rewarded with more time in the day. I have no idea how I am supposed to pick both of them up, play with them, nurse Dee and prepare dinner all between 5 and 7pm. Last night I prepped a lasagna that only needs to be put in the oven once I get home tonight; beyond that I see lots of take-out in our future.

State of Being

I am...

• back in the office
• missing my babies
• happy that Dee has been turning over like crazy
• exhausted from turning Dee back over time and time again in the middle of the night
• thrilled that Dee is taking a bottle
• concerned that she only drank 3 ounces this morning (once you can measure it can make you crazy, maybe she usually only has 3 ounces in the morning - how would I know? I haven't had my boobs calibrated lately)
• worried that Dee seems to have some congestion
• curious about how LP is doing in her new "older toddler" classroom
• psyched that I pumped 6 ounces this morning
• wondering just what it is that I do around here
• trying to figure out how the heck I am going to manage everything and then some
• not looking forward to a group lunch meeting