Frick and Frack.

Remember when I was *worried* that the boys wouldn't be close because they were going to be born 4 years apart?

I have a feeing that is NOT going to be a problem. 

P.S. It just hit me that SOON they are going to be able to team up and conspire against me... Oy!

Monday Funday.

Here is a random sampling of the day.

Over the weekend my husband and I decided to cave in and let the LM watch the new Transformers movie. He doesn't get really scared of things, but he is kind of obsessed with "shooters" (guns) so I was on the fence about this one. I read about it online and saw that there isn't really much violence, and since it's machine fighting machine (no blood) I figured I would give in.

First thing he does this morning when we walk into school? Go right up to both his teachers and say, "Guess what? My Daddy let me watch the Transformers movie yesterday. It was awesome. There were bad guys, and shooters, and it was for big kids!!!!! I'm not scared, I'm brave." Is it wrong that I was slightly relieved that he said "my daddy let me?"

Note to self: Teach the LM "things that happen at home, stay at home." It's like Vegas.

Yep, now I'm really looking forward to parent/ teacher conferences.

Then we went to the store this afternoon. We were looking for these sucky nose things that I'm obsessed with, for my girlfriends. They can clear up an infant's nose like no one's business, and I kind of think it's fun having a little tug of war with the boogers. (In other news, I need to get out more.) Anyway, when I asked the lady if they had any, she said they were out. A little voice peeped up from inside the cart, saying "you should just order them online." "Whhhhhaaaatttt?" I replied. "What is online?" The LM said, "you know, from the compputedor." Holy 21st century 4 year old! (By the way, I came home and ordered them online.)


Oh, and speaking of ordering things online... I have two words for you all... New Coldplay. It's awesome. It's out. I will listen to nothing else for the next 3 months. They better tour. They better come to Boston. I better be there. Chris, if you are reading this... I love you.

Now the LM and I are feeling very Martha Stewart(ish) err Betty Crocker(ish) and are making a Homemade Veggie Lasagna, and Pumpkin Pie. I don't think the house has smelled this good since last Fall! What is it about cold weather that just makes you want to cook???? Let's hope my hubby doesn't clue in and move my ass to North Dakota!!!

Hope you all had a great Monday!

3 months!

Happy 3 months to my little boo. I know it hasn't been that long, but it's hard to remember what life was like before you came along!!! Thank you for being the sweetest baby and completing our little family. We love you!

What Would Your Mother Say?

For the past year the LM has been taking swimming classes at the Boston University gym. This is always a great opportunity for me to check out what the young(er) kids are wearing, and I've begun to notice, as the weather is getting colder, that girls these days seem to be forgetting one very important piece of clothing when they leave the house; their pants.

Yes, I'm serious here.

What these girls refer to as "leggings." people in my generation refer to as pantyhose or tights. Worse, the trend seems to be to wear a really short sweater with these skin tight, see-thru, "not pants" pants. I might sound like an old lady here, but unless you are Giselle (and even then) shouldn't you be wearing actual pants when you leave the house? I mean, most of these pant like clothing articles are sooooooooooooooo tight that there is NO WAY these girls can even be wearing underwear beneath them.

Ewwwwwwwww. What would you mother say????

I know there is a lot of things that you should worry about when sending your kids off to college, but I'm not sure reminding them to wear actual clothing should be one of them. It reminds me of this chart I saw a few months back on the Huffington Post.   (click to enlarge)

Maybe I should post this on the Community Board under "from a concerned member of Generation X to you, girl from Generation Y... as in Y aren't you wearing any pants?"

This ends my public service announcement. Please go back to your regularly scheduled internet surfing.

(Image via BuzzFeed)

Cause You Know a Four Year Old Ain't Lying!

While I was pregnant, I didn't think that much about the pregnancy weight that I was or wasn't gaining. I felt good, I thought I looked as good as I could, and I knew, from experience, that the weight does come off... eventually.

During my pregnancy I gained about 27lbs. This wasn't intentional. I hardly exercised, and ate a relatively healthy, heavy on the sweets, diet. Right after the baby was born I inadvertently ended up on a scale at the pediatrician's office (she was late, I was bored) and I was about 8lbs over my pre-pregnancy weight. Now, 3 months later, I'm 11. I'd like to say that this was all due to breastfeeding, but I'm the first to admit that my current obsession with pie/pasta/bread/ anything with calories, is the likely culprit. I don't know what's come over me, but feeding this baby makes me so HUNGRY and I am definitely not the one to make the healthy choice when I am constantly STARVING.

Now back to my four year old. Other than the fact that I know I am  nowhere near fitting back to any of my pre-pregnancy pants/skirts/dresses, the weight doesn't really bother me. My baby is happy, I'm happy, God invented leggings, and thankfully, the cold weather is on it's way which means a lot of layers. I figured I had until Summer to shake this baby/ pastry weight.

Or not.

A few days back I was getting out of the shower, when my appendage, the LM, asked, "are you having another baby?" "No, sweets. Why would you ask that?" I replied, thinking this might be some emotionally charged sibling rivalry question. "Because, your tummy is big and soft. It's looks like you are having another baby."

Yep, this week I'm heading back to the gym... and for reals.

Anyone and everyone can say how great you look, but when your four year old tells you that you look some kind of knocked up, you know you do, because a four year old ain't lying! These kids will drop truth bombs on you no matter how hottie tottie you think you are, and the sad thing is they are usually right!

So... after I picked my jaw up off the floor, and assured the LM that we were still going to be a family of 4, I decided it was time to think seriously about my return to the gym. I am hesitant to do anything to intense, as I don't want to affect my milk supply, but if I can just maybe offset some of these pie calories, I know my muffin top might fade to a (mini) muffin top. At least it would be a start.

My plan of attack is keeping things low impact. I'm going to try to swim a mile at least twice a week, and then hit up a yoga or core class two more times. On the weekends my hubby can stay with the boys for an hour, and during the week I can get in on a sitter share, so Graybeans shouldn't really notice a difference. Hopefully, my boobs won't either.

 At this point it's either that, or give up the pie, and you KNOW I'm not going to do that.

Four year olds. They can be the most annoying sweetest things, can't they?

1:33.

1:33 of pure squish...

 

Happy Sunday!!!

Up All Night... Again!

Two weeks ago the unthinkable happened. My baby gave me the best present ever. Like a Christmas, Birthday, Mother's Day, and Valentine's Day, Chinese New Year all rolled into one, kind of present. He started sleeping through the night. Yes, my friends, that is some priceless s%#t.

It came out of nowhere. Until he turned 10 weeks we were up every night at 12:45, 4:45. and sometimes for good measure 6:45. I figured that maybe I would get lucky and he would drop that 12:45 feed, but no, my little guy seemed to be holding on to his schedule for dear life. Then, one day, he didn't wake up. Of course, when I awoke at 4 and realized I hadn't heard him, I rushed upstairs to make sure he was still breathing (he was) woke him, fed him, and went back to sleep. The next night he did the same, and I again, woke him, and fed him. Realizing, it was crazy to keep waking him up, I called the pediatrician and asked for" permission" to let him sleep through. I was told that as long as he was feeding 6-7 times a day (he was) and peeing an equal number (that too) than I should pinch myself, thank a higher power, and let that baby snooze away. I happily complied.

For 9 blissful days, I put him down at 7:15 pm and didn't see his chubby, smiling face, until almost 8 am the next morning. OMG I felt like I had my life back. No more freaking out at 9:30 pm that I would be up in less than two hours, no more walking around like a zombie all day, no more hiding from my 4 year old, under the covers, when he came to get me in the morning. I was almost a human again. Almost.

Just when I thought it was safe again to go out with my hubby or friends, and have that second glass of wine, my little guy has gone and turned the switch again and Tuesday was up at 5am (after a night out with the girls (ouch)  and last night we were back to our 12:45, and 4:45 routine again.

WTF???????

I keep telling myself that maybe it is just a 12 week growth spurt (is there such a thing?) Or that maybe it was some freakish circumstance... gas, a nightmare, hell, maybe a ghost? Anything, ANYTHING other than the fact that I am going to be back on the up all night track... again!

Crap. Maybe it's time to start praying.

Did any of you go through this with your little ones. Did they tempt you with a night of sleep and then rip it away the second you started to take advantage of it? Is he too young to bribe him with a new car? Trip around the world? College on an opposite coast? A gold watch?

He's got two more weeks of this. Now that I know he can make it though, don't think Dr. Ferber hasn't crossed my mind. You hear me baby Gray. 2 more weeks!

Then First of Eight Decades.

Over the weekend, my hubby and I celebrated the ten year anniversary of when we first met. It just so happens to fall on the day before his birthday, so luckily it's hard for us to forget.

Our first meeting was nothing out of a epic romance novel. It was not love at first sight, no fireworks exploded overhead, nor were we inseparable after we laid eyes on each other. We didn't move in together the next day (that came some 6 months later) and I definitely didn't think of him as my soul mate. I always hear people say that without an instant, powerful connection, there is little chance of a long lasting relationship. I saw it the other way. Slow and steady usually to wins the race, and while some of those explosive relationships have fizzled out, ours seems like it could make it for the long haul.

We met how most people meet. Basically, a girl walked into a bar and met up with 3 other girls, who somehow ended up sharing a table with the group containing 4 single guys. At first glance I definitely thought he was a cutie, the best of the bunch, and after a few hours of conversation (and an equal number of pitchers of beer) we realized we had a ton in common (I somehow managed to find the only other surfer in the entire city of Baltimore) and we exchanged numbers. The next day he did something that no man before him ever did, he called!!!!!!!!  and asked me out for the next weekend. We were both in the end stages of complicated relationships, and while we casually dated, it wasn't until a few months later that we finally felt that we were meant to be. From that moment on I pretty much knew I was going to marry the kid. Three months later we moved in together, less than a year later we were engaged, and we were married that next January.  I was 24, he was 27 and we said on our wedding day that it was pretty cool that we could possibly be together for almost 80 years!

Now, 10 years, and 2 kids later we are still going strong. Sure, we've had our up and down years, and we often drive each other bananas, but when your husband looks at you on your 10 year anniversary, and says "can you believe you have to put up with me for 70 more?" you know you've found your true love!

Moral of the story: It's never a bad idea to marry your best friend (explosive fireworks or not) and drinking on a Monday can be a good thing, you never know who you're going to meet!

January,  2004 

(I can't believe how young we look... we were practically babies!!!)

Happy Anniversary to my handsome hubby!

This Is What Happens When...

This Is What Happens When.... You leave Mom at home, alone, with a pair of clippers.

Look, there was a baby hiding under that mohawk!!!

Remembering Steve.

‎"Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to...love what you do. Your time is limited. Don't waste it living someone else's life." - Steve Jobs

Little Man, Big Ramp.

I've gotten a few questions about how the skateboarding is going. I agree 4 may seem a bit young to take on such a injury prone sport, but my little guy is so determined that I think it really just depends on the kid, as to what the appropriate age may be. Besides, he's so close to the ground, he doesn't really have that far to fall. Me on the other hand? Let's just say I'm better of not trying to show him "how to do it" as my skinned knee will attest.

Here's my little guy, last week, after his second lesson. He must have done this about 100,000,000 times, and only left when it was pitch dark. My feeble attempt at convincing him that it was "almost dark" definitely feel on deaf ears!

The Boy Is All Thumbs.

There is something going on with Baby Gray. I have done EVERYTHING in my power to stop it, but the force is too strong (or I am too weak.) A few weeks back I started by denying it was happening, and then I begged him to stop, which turned into bribery (a concept which is lost on a 10 week old) and now, slowly I am getting to a place of acceptance. Slowly.

Basically, my kid is a thumb sucker. Whew. I finally said it out loud.

One would think that a mom who allows her kid to gnaw on a pacifier at night until he was almost 4,  wouldn't care too much about the sucking of thumbs. That person would be wrong. See, the reason I allowed/ promoted/ taped to the LM's mouth (not really, but close) that little green piece of plastic, was to avoid this very problem.

A binky means no finger, or thumb sucking. A binky can be taken away. Fingers, well, they are forever.

How do I know? Because, I too was a finger sucker. A hard core, until my age was in the double digits, no amount of teasing/money from my parents/ pepper nail polish, if I lived alone I would probably still do it into my thirties (yikes, I hope not) kind of finger sucker. Oh, the shame. I get it. I'm sympathetic to his need to suck. I also know how hard it is to stop. Poor baby boy, he looking at a long (and germy) road ahead.

In my ill-fated attempts to keep this from happening,  I have bought every pacifier on the market to find just ONE that he won't spit out...he hates them all. I have swaddled him so tight, I was afraid he couldn't move... he breaks out in about five second and inserts left thumb directly in mouth. I have even called the pedi to see if there was anything else I could do... his response, it's actually genetic, blame the genes and let the kid suck away. It's gotten to the point where when he wakes at night to feed he'd rather suck his thumb, and after 20 minutes I have to go up and pry it out so he will actually remember that he is hungry.

Yep, he's got it bad.

The only thing left to do at this point is wave the white flag, buy enough non-toxic sanitizer for the next few years, and pray that he won't be walking down the aisle with that thing in his mouth (something I can guarantee you my parents though was a possibility.)

I'm pretty sure that in a few years I can't trade a skateboard for an actual thumb. Wait... can I? ;)