Second Time Around

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It’s kinda crazy, the way things are so different the second time around with kids. I can’t even believe how lax Camera Guy and I have gotten with things like baths, duration of wearing a soiled diaper, and matching socks. I mean, does that sound bad? I often wonder to myself if I am shorting Mr. Chubs on the baby-powdered perfectness of being a baby simply because I can’t keep up, or rather, simply because he was born second! You know what I’m talking about. I know you do. How everything is so clean, routined, simple, quiet, demure, and chill during round 1. You chuckle to yourself about how she gets "so messy" with her food, when "messy" is two rice crispies stuck to her chin. You hardly call the doctor because she’s just "so good" , never gets into anything. She gets fully bathed each night, complete with a blow dry and style. Bedtime routines happily take up to an hour of book reading, toe tickling and saying goodnight to everything in the house. Ah, then enters number 2 and your entire life gets flipped upside down. (I know all you Moms of 2 plus are laughing at me right now, but the abruptness of it all catches you off guard) Now, I mock my former self. Baths every night? Impossible. Have you seen two babies in the tub at the same time under the age of two? No way. Now baths are limited to a 3 step evaluation process: smell, sight and energy level. That would be, can I see food in your hair, can I smell food on you….and can I keep up with the both of you attempting to drown the other in water at the same time. I never saw myself like this! Oh the Mom-guilt! How can this be? We’ve left the house with no shoes on, eaten fast food on the way to the store, taken naps in the car, gone shopping without make up, we’ve let you stay up way past your bedtime, left you with a babysitter and actually said "It’s ok if she doesn’t go to sleep", (talk about desperate to go out!). I’ve put on Sesame Street so I could do laundry, cleaned faces by licking my finger and wiping the face, sometimes, when I can’t debate anymore what’s for dinner….I’ve let her eat cereal. We even did the seemingly impossible: stayed in a hotel room together, all of us, the baby too! (This, was the most unachievable scenario imaginable for us….we stupidly told each other, ‘They’ll wake each other up!’) Or the even more impossible: let them both nap in the same room. Or the even more "I will never be able to do that" : walking in and out of the room that they’re napping in! Or how about changing a diaper while nursing? That is, changing the diaper of the baby your nursing….in the middle of the night. How did this come to be that all those things we deemed impossible, ridiculous and avoidable the first time around….just aren’t? I know my mother in law, with her 10 kids, is finding this whole run around entirely humorous. All I can say is this: now I get it! And kudos to my mom-in-law, my mom, my grandmothers and all those women I know who have done it! Wow. It’s seriously the craziest thing ever! You really do have to just let go, and chalk it up to "well, I’m sure this has happened to someone…somewhere in the world before…" Eating bird poop? Rolling off the bed? ? Pooping on the dining room floor? Ah yes. Surely I’m not the only one…

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Trenches & Teeth

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Wow, it feels like forever since I was able to blog. Even right now, I’m typing with Mr. Chubs intermittently letting out whimpers from his playpen. It’s been a long haul, this 2 year molar thing. Seriously, its been 5 weeks already. Yep, you can bet I’m counting. This is crazy! I feel like these molars are never going to show. Of course, in my utter disbelief, I googled the matter (as any parent of 2010 would, so long Dr. Spock books!….hellooooo "google"!) and I was somewhat relieved to find out that apparently the 2 year molars have a bad, horrible reputation of being stubborn little fellas. At least I know that its them, not me. I was starting to panic as to why my once perfect sleeper of a daughter had suddenly begun to torment us by waking each night between 2am-4am screaming at the top of her lungs to no avail. 5 weeks of this behavior really begins to make you question everything you could have done wrong. Initially, I thought the problem was solved because it was potty training. Wrong. Then I was certain it was due to me expressing fear when we crossed a bridge, then I thought maybe by some mistake she may have been exposed to something scary on television, or that her bedroom was too dark, or that the crib was making her feel trapped, or that she had separation anxiety, or that she had a food allergy. But….. No. Teeth it is, and teeth it ever shall be. When she was laughing the other day, I caught a glimpse of what looked a little white puffiness near the back of her mouth, that paired with her interest in chewing on chairs, toy school buses, my knees & shoulders, her fingers and anything else…..confirms my discover that yes, indeed, my daughter is teething! Teething, I am firmly convinced, is the trenches of parenthood! Then again, as I contemplate it, pretty much anything beginning with the letter "T" in regards to child-rearing is the muck and gucky-ness of parenthood: tempertantrums, toilet training…..teenagers. I know it will pass, and in a few months I’ll hardly recall this time because of the fuzzy-mommy-brain syndrome. But right now, armed with Google, Fish Oil (did I mention, I discovered that Fish oil is working wonders in the teething department? Apparently it reduces inflammation) and lots of coffee….I’ll battle on in the trenches. Hopeful, to emerge victorious before I collapse from exhaustion. This too shall pass…..