Last night I tried to knock out a lingering headache by crashing in the bedroom for a bit while Mike played with the kids in the living room.
Minutes later all four of us were snuggling in my bed watching The View on DVR. As Mike pointed out, I'm pretty popular around these parts.
The fellas ultimately showed little interest in the news of Sherri Shepherd joining Dancing with the Stars. First I nudged Mike to escape back to the living room, but Michael soon requested to join his Daddy. I called to Mike, he grabbed our boy, and Sophie and I enjoyed some girl time. She flipped and flopped a bit but spent a good few minutes spooning with me, requesting more and more tummy tickles.
At one point she sat up and called out, "Mock!"
"What's 'mock,' baby girl?"
"Mock!"
When I said it the way she had, with a little force but not really yelling, I realized that she was mimicking what she'd heard me do earlier when I needed Mike to come get Michael. She was calling, "Mike!"
When I calmed my giggles, I called "Mike!" again so I could share my amusement with him.
"Mock!" she echoed again.
Mike didn't find her quite as amusing as I had, but even he couldn't hold back a smirk when he told her, "That's Daddy to you, young lady." The next morning he urged her to "Say bye-bye to Carrie!" but she either didn't get it or is just totally on my side.
Sophie's "Mock-ing" didn't surprise me too much that night. Not only are she and Michael little language sponges these days, she's also been my personal mirror.
The other morning, for example, as the kids pushed trucks around the kitchen, I looked out our sliding door to the backyard, taking note of spring projects and envisioning warmer days to come. Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice much about Sophie when she first stood beside me, but when I took her in I saw her arms were awkwardly wrapped at her waist. I saw my own arms folded at my waist and knew she was trying to stand just like I was.
"Monkey see, monkey do" has been an accurate description of both kids for quite a while now, but it's especially nice to get this kind of attention lately from my girl. I guess I better quit picking my nose and dropping the f-bomb.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Away
It was time.
We made the reservations, booked Mike's mom as a sitter, gave kisses good-bye, and (cue the fireworks) spent my first night away from Sophie and Michael.
Mike has been on numberous overnight trips for work since April 2010, but every day of Michael and Sophie's lives has ended with me settling them into their cribs and has begun again with me lifting them back out, nuzzling their sleepy necks. That is, until recently.
My first night away was essentially a 12-hour vacation in downtown Detroit. While to some that might sound less than appealing, take a look at where we had drinks, ate dinner, and crashed. There were a lot of options, but we went with some classics.
Mike and I ate at the Whitney a number of years ago when we paid off $20k in credit card debt--an accumulation of wedding, honeymoon, and new home expenses, along with some general foolishness. After one tough year on a crazy tight budget, I'm not sure what had been better that night: the duck confit, the bottle of Syrah, or paying with cash responsibly saved for the occasion. Mike and I looked forward to going back these years later.
About half-way through my first night away I joked with Mike that married couples aren't supposed to talk about work or the kids when out on dates. He joked back, "How about that Prince Fielder?" He and the taxi driver had bantered back and forth on that topic during the ride to the restaurant.
The reality is our primary common interests are 22-months-old and inspire lively conversations. Why mess with that? It also wasn't so bad talking about work or whatever else without our common interests needing our direct attention for an entire evening.
I woke up at the usual time the next morning, a sleepy 5:15. I had a headache from the couple glasses of wine and a desire not to miss much of the day with the kids. We went home, took the kids out to brunch, and settled in for another busy week.
We made the reservations, booked Mike's mom as a sitter, gave kisses good-bye, and (cue the fireworks) spent my first night away from Sophie and Michael.
Mike has been on numberous overnight trips for work since April 2010, but every day of Michael and Sophie's lives has ended with me settling them into their cribs and has begun again with me lifting them back out, nuzzling their sleepy necks. That is, until recently.
My first night away was essentially a 12-hour vacation in downtown Detroit. While to some that might sound less than appealing, take a look at where we had drinks, ate dinner, and crashed. There were a lot of options, but we went with some classics.
Mike and I ate at the Whitney a number of years ago when we paid off $20k in credit card debt--an accumulation of wedding, honeymoon, and new home expenses, along with some general foolishness. After one tough year on a crazy tight budget, I'm not sure what had been better that night: the duck confit, the bottle of Syrah, or paying with cash responsibly saved for the occasion. Mike and I looked forward to going back these years later.
About half-way through my first night away I joked with Mike that married couples aren't supposed to talk about work or the kids when out on dates. He joked back, "How about that Prince Fielder?" He and the taxi driver had bantered back and forth on that topic during the ride to the restaurant.
The reality is our primary common interests are 22-months-old and inspire lively conversations. Why mess with that? It also wasn't so bad talking about work or whatever else without our common interests needing our direct attention for an entire evening.
I woke up at the usual time the next morning, a sleepy 5:15. I had a headache from the couple glasses of wine and a desire not to miss much of the day with the kids. We went home, took the kids out to brunch, and settled in for another busy week.
- Rocking -
Whenever I watch Sophie and Michael on their rocking horses, I'm reminded of something.
For a while I couldn't think of what it was. I had a vague vision of a kid...or a frog...rocking on a horse and tipping over. Then I remembered this scene from The Muppets Take Manhattan. (Click one minute into the scene to see just that moment.)
Of course that scene would get etched into my childhood brain and impress itself upon visions of my own peanuts rocking on their "hoo-wisses."
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Cheater Soup
Somewhere between soggy-noodled, sodium-rich canned soups and the homemade richness of the turkey frame soup my grandma used to make lies what I refer to as Cheater Soup. I made it for lunch on this snowy day at home with my kids.
Here's the "recipe."
Saute a bag of frozen mirepoix blend (toddler-sized carrots, onions, and celery). Add a can of diced tomatoes. Season with whatever (I used Penzey's Pasta Sprinkle). Pour in two boxes of organic chicken stock and two-ish cups of water. Bring to a boil. Add a box of whole grain rotini and cook until tender.
Since I don't serve much broth to the kids, to them this surely looks like yet another pasta with vegetables and/or meat concoction that I often serve them (our recent favorite of those is penne, ground turkey, olives, feta cheese, and Greek dresssing).
This one is different to me at least. What was in my bowl was some healthy comfort food that only took 15 minutes away from this snowy day at home with my kids to prepare.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Sophie, Sophie, who do you see?
Ever since a Creative Memories consultant presented at one of my mothers of multiples club meetings last year, I've had a couple ideas pinned to the virtual pin board in my brain (why didn't I invent Pinterest, she asks herself again).
One project was to fix up the scrapbook frames that I worked on previously. Another quickie little mommy-friendly project that a MoM shared was to make a scrapbook (traditional or electronic) with pictures of family members in the style of Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? by Bill Martin, Jr. and Eric Carle. The intention is to help little ones match loved ones' faces with their names.
I narrowly escaped getting sucked into the Creative Memories vortex, but I went with a Shutterfly photobook on this one. To be honest, I'm usually disappointed with Shutterfly's quality, but they keep sending me irresistable discounts via email. This project, sadly, was no exception to the grainy photo letdown.
Still, I'm very happy with the books overall. I made one for Sophie and one for Michael, both pretty much the same but swapping their own appearances at the beginning and end. For example, Michael's starts with "Michael, Michael, who do you see?" (like the "brown bear") and ends with Sophie listing all the people in the book (like the "children"). Sophie's book is the opposite.
We gave the books to the kids after dinner last night, and they were immediately engaged. They love books in general, being read to, and pointing to different objects on each page. Last night Uncle Nick and Uncle Joe's ears might have been ringing as Sophie and Michael not only pointed them out in the books but said their names quite clearly. (They also say "Ucka Doe" when placing the guitar puzzle piece in their musical intrument puzzle. Their language and memory skills are fascinating these days.)
I limited photos in the book to the kids' aunt, uncles, grandparents, great-grandparents, and family pets. I dedicated the books to loved ones who would fit in those categories but whose lifetimes unfortunately did not overlap with Michael and Sophie's--the kids' Uncle Ryan and both sets of my grandparents. Throughout the year and especially on occasions like Ryan's birthday, we also share a pair of Whispers From Heaven teddy bears with the kids that Mike's mom bought for them before they were born. They see his picture and will learn his name that way.
As exciting as it was to hear Michael and Sophie start saying "mommy" and "daddy" months ago, there's a special satisfaction watching relationships grow between the kids and their extended family. These books, learning the names and loving faces, are an effort toward that growth.
One project was to fix up the scrapbook frames that I worked on previously. Another quickie little mommy-friendly project that a MoM shared was to make a scrapbook (traditional or electronic) with pictures of family members in the style of Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? by Bill Martin, Jr. and Eric Carle. The intention is to help little ones match loved ones' faces with their names.
I narrowly escaped getting sucked into the Creative Memories vortex, but I went with a Shutterfly photobook on this one. To be honest, I'm usually disappointed with Shutterfly's quality, but they keep sending me irresistable discounts via email. This project, sadly, was no exception to the grainy photo letdown.
Still, I'm very happy with the books overall. I made one for Sophie and one for Michael, both pretty much the same but swapping their own appearances at the beginning and end. For example, Michael's starts with "Michael, Michael, who do you see?" (like the "brown bear") and ends with Sophie listing all the people in the book (like the "children"). Sophie's book is the opposite.
We gave the books to the kids after dinner last night, and they were immediately engaged. They love books in general, being read to, and pointing to different objects on each page. Last night Uncle Nick and Uncle Joe's ears might have been ringing as Sophie and Michael not only pointed them out in the books but said their names quite clearly. (They also say "Ucka Doe" when placing the guitar puzzle piece in their musical intrument puzzle. Their language and memory skills are fascinating these days.)
I limited photos in the book to the kids' aunt, uncles, grandparents, great-grandparents, and family pets. I dedicated the books to loved ones who would fit in those categories but whose lifetimes unfortunately did not overlap with Michael and Sophie's--the kids' Uncle Ryan and both sets of my grandparents. Throughout the year and especially on occasions like Ryan's birthday, we also share a pair of Whispers From Heaven teddy bears with the kids that Mike's mom bought for them before they were born. They see his picture and will learn his name that way.
As exciting as it was to hear Michael and Sophie start saying "mommy" and "daddy" months ago, there's a special satisfaction watching relationships grow between the kids and their extended family. These books, learning the names and loving faces, are an effort toward that growth.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Crayon Valentines
When working at a child care center years ago, I saw piles of broken Crayola stubs enter an oven and come out melted into Reese's Peanut Butter Cup-shaped Clowny-style crayons. (Remember Clowny?) I put that craft on my future mommy to-do list. Enter Pinterest, and I couldn't resist making valentines for two-year-olds this weekend.
This Whipper Berry post is what twisted my arm. I didn't die cut or letterpress anything, but here's what I did do.
I opted for Target instead of Michael's because their aisles are better suited for a double stroller.
I picked up a silicone heart-shaped muffin pan ($2.50), blank valentine cards with envelopes (2 packs of 8/$1), glue dots ($4), a box of 64 crayons ($2.50), and some glitter ($1).
Surely I could have picked up a nice box of themey valentines like the ones I gave out as a kid instead. I could have even more easily done nothing this year and nobody would care. However, I chose to get crafty.
I considered typing and printing the sentiment since my handwriting looks like this:
This Whipper Berry post is what twisted my arm. I didn't die cut or letterpress anything, but here's what I did do.
I opted for Target instead of Michael's because their aisles are better suited for a double stroller.
I picked up a silicone heart-shaped muffin pan ($2.50), blank valentine cards with envelopes (2 packs of 8/$1), glue dots ($4), a box of 64 crayons ($2.50), and some glitter ($1).
Surely I could have picked up a nice box of themey valentines like the ones I gave out as a kid instead. I could have even more easily done nothing this year and nobody would care. However, I chose to get crafty.
While the kids ate lunch I divided the crayons into groups of three, keeping complementary colors in mind with the intention of contrast.
I peeled and peeled and peeled crayons throughout the day when I found a moment here or there. Cutting the paper lenghtwise with a knife was very helpful but also felt like a lost fingertip waiting to happen.
I heated the oven to 300 degrees, shook a thin layer of glitter into each heart shape, put broken pieces of three crayons in each, and baked them for 15 minutes with the silicone pan on a metal cookie sheet for stability. After cooling in the pan for about twenty minutes, the heart-shaped crayons came out very easily.
The glue dots felt like a bit of a splurge, but I can't think of anything that could have adhered the hearts to the cards faster, more easily, or more neatly while also allowing the crayons to be removed with as little fuss. I'm sure I'll get my money's worth with future crafts.
I considered typing and printing the sentiment since my handwriting looks like this:
but I went for the handwritten touch. I'm sure the toddlers in Michael and Sophie's class at the child care center will appreciate the charm as well as the overall hard work I put into these. :P
I'm probably a horrible twin mama for sending these from both Michael and Sophie rather than giving out cards from them as individuals, but that day will come. I recently saw a Goldfish cracker fall out of Sophie's mouth and Michael eat it without missing a beat. Individuality just isn't a big issue yet.
However, if they get valentines from their classmates written out to the two of them rather than ones of their own....no, actually, we really just don't care. Not yet, anyway.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Natural History
"The best thing, though, in that museum was that everything always stayed right where it was. Nobody’d move. . . . Nobody’d be different. The only thing that would be different would be you."
This was a Saturday like so many Saturdays. We attempted (and failed) to sleep in by bringing two bright-eyed toddlers into our bed at 5 a.m. Mike and I spent much of the day plugging through our weekly to-do list (groceries, laundry...) while playing with, feeding, and generally caring for Michael and Sophie. And like too many times before, as we rushed to get the kids ready for an adventure squeezed in between nap and bed time, I grumped about never really having enough time for fun stuff.
Fast forward to buckling back into the minivan after our outing and I'm admitting to having been a grump earlier who needed to lighten up. Mike didn't disagree.
Our trip was a typically fantastic outing with my typically fantastic family. The two-hour window between nap and dinner was--as it has been for countless visits to local parks, museums, stores, restaurants, and so on--the perfect toddler-sized portion of time. I savored our drive home filled with nostalgia, amusement, and a gourmet sandwich.
The outing we chose for this week was a visit to the U of M Museum of Natural History. Memories of my own elementary school field trips there and teenage shenanigans later on were met by new ones: Michael resistant to let me put him down, initially intimidated by the dinos; Sophie fearlessly toddling off from display to display saying "woooowww" everytime.
Michael eventually let me set him down...and let go of my legs...then scooted off as well.
Even without trunks between their tusks, he was able to point out the mastadons towering above us as "elluhs" (meaning elephants). Sophie enjoyed holding my hand as she climbed a whole flight of stairs to the Michigan wildlife exhibit. Both kids agreed we should do this again someday as we got them back into their coats and headed off to dinner.
Having just read about Zingerman's delivering sandwiches and pecan pie to Air Force One when President Obama was in town this week, I had a hankering myself. As always, the bill for our dinner there struck me as hefty ($40 for two sandwiches, a side of pasta salad, and two drinks), and the seating was cramped (envision me carrying a wooden high-chair through a crowd with Michael on my hip and then heading back for another). But my craving was met, and the kids hammed it up for diners at nearby tables, making this expensive and claustrophobic yet tastey meal a pleasantly memorable one as well.
So, self, no more stomping around like a giant toddler when the pressure of sqeezing in some extra fun stuff gets to you. The next version of mastadons and bobcats will surely be worth it, and grumping just slows us down.
From Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
This was a Saturday like so many Saturdays. We attempted (and failed) to sleep in by bringing two bright-eyed toddlers into our bed at 5 a.m. Mike and I spent much of the day plugging through our weekly to-do list (groceries, laundry...) while playing with, feeding, and generally caring for Michael and Sophie. And like too many times before, as we rushed to get the kids ready for an adventure squeezed in between nap and bed time, I grumped about never really having enough time for fun stuff.
Fast forward to buckling back into the minivan after our outing and I'm admitting to having been a grump earlier who needed to lighten up. Mike didn't disagree.
Our trip was a typically fantastic outing with my typically fantastic family. The two-hour window between nap and dinner was--as it has been for countless visits to local parks, museums, stores, restaurants, and so on--the perfect toddler-sized portion of time. I savored our drive home filled with nostalgia, amusement, and a gourmet sandwich.
The outing we chose for this week was a visit to the U of M Museum of Natural History. Memories of my own elementary school field trips there and teenage shenanigans later on were met by new ones: Michael resistant to let me put him down, initially intimidated by the dinos; Sophie fearlessly toddling off from display to display saying "woooowww" everytime.
Michael eventually let me set him down...and let go of my legs...then scooted off as well.
Even without trunks between their tusks, he was able to point out the mastadons towering above us as "elluhs" (meaning elephants). Sophie enjoyed holding my hand as she climbed a whole flight of stairs to the Michigan wildlife exhibit. Both kids agreed we should do this again someday as we got them back into their coats and headed off to dinner.
Having just read about Zingerman's delivering sandwiches and pecan pie to Air Force One when President Obama was in town this week, I had a hankering myself. As always, the bill for our dinner there struck me as hefty ($40 for two sandwiches, a side of pasta salad, and two drinks), and the seating was cramped (envision me carrying a wooden high-chair through a crowd with Michael on my hip and then heading back for another). But my craving was met, and the kids hammed it up for diners at nearby tables, making this expensive and claustrophobic yet tastey meal a pleasantly memorable one as well.
So, self, no more stomping around like a giant toddler when the pressure of sqeezing in some extra fun stuff gets to you. The next version of mastadons and bobcats will surely be worth it, and grumping just slows us down.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Let's pretend
Michael making soup for Doggie with a couple of our favorite toys: Green Toys Chef and Dish Sets and Ikea vegetables.
They both also pretend to leave and return from work with appropriate fanfare. Michael will pick up their play laptop and Sophie will put a handled bag or box over her shoulder (similar to how I look when leaving the house with a diaper bag, my purse, or work bag). They'll walk by and say, "Bye-bye," which starts this exchange:
"Are you going to work?"
"Yeah, bye-bye!"
"Bye, buddies. I love you. Can I have kisses?"
They'll either blow me kisses or come to me all puckered up saying "Mmmmmmuah!"
I respond with, "See you after work. Have a good day!"
When they come home from behind the love seat or out of the kitchen, I react as excitedly as they do when I pick them up, with a big smile saying, "You're home! I missed you!" More hugs and kisses follow, and then the scene repeats.
When playing kitchen we pretend to cut the vegetables and put them in a pot, stir them up, and scoop our soup into bowls. (After all the cooking done to the "Soup Song," our signature dish should be no surprise.) Mike is pretty skilled at tossing the toy veggies in the air with a spatula and catching them in a pan. He'd surely get good tips at a Japanese steak house. In our house he is tipped with "Moah!" Sophie and Michael love filling our cups with tea from their kettle that makes a cool gurgling sound. Then we eat, slurp our drinks, feed each other, and feed any stuffed pal nearby.
If I was 21-months-old, we would be such friends.
Recently I found toddler aprons at Hobby Lobby in the Valentine's Day section for five bucks each, but Michael and Sophie aren't really into those. I ask them if they want to put them on almost every time we "cook," and I'm dying to seem them all cheffed up. I guess dress-up will come later.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Our first tummy bug
This morning Sophie and Michael drank whole sippy-cups of milk, ate all of their Cheerios and bananas, and have been running and giggling away from me as I try to "gitch-ya, gitch-ya, gitch-ya."
This was not the case for the last four days.
On Tuesday the kids returned to their center after more than two weeks at home for the holidays. Before the end of the day, I had gotten the center's "your child's health is important to us" email informing families that there was a case of conjunctivitis/pink-eye in the toddler room.
That night as we got the kids ready for bed, I noticed goo in Sophie's eyelashes and that her eye was a tad pink. Mike and I compared our schedules for the next day, and he planned to take time off.
In the morning, Sophie's eye looked fine. Mike took the kids to the center, told the teachers we were concerned and to call him to come get her if necessary, but there was no call. When I picked the kids up, I breathed a sigh of relief as the teachers said Sophie's eye did look a little pink but not to worry about it.
What I did worry about was how slowly she climbed out of her chair at the snack table, how much of the snack was still there, and how she didn't smile when she gave me a hug.
As I got Sophie out of her car seat at home, she looked sleepy. "Do you want to go in the house and snuggle with Mama?"
"Yeaaaah." She dropped her head on my shoulder immediately as I lifted her out. Inside she didn't want to say hi to the kitty, she didn't want to find toys in the playroom, she just wanted to take me up on my offer and cuddle on the couch. Luckily, Michael was happy to play on his own.
Sophie requested milk. Moments later she was vomitting on the living room rug, and then again, and then again. She didn't eat any dinner (as expected but very unlike her), and we skipped the storytime milk for her, having seen that her stomach turned it into cottage cheese earlier on. Michael followed his usual routine.
Since Sophie didn't have a fever, we chose to just wait this out, planning to call the doctor in the morning to be sure that was best and then the center to let them know what was up. It was my mom's day to watch the kids, but we thought they should know one of their kids had a bug.
In the middle of the night, Michael let out a frightened cry. Mike went in to check on him and called to me that Michael was puking. The rest of the night is a blur of changing crib sheet after crib sheet including one of Sophie's, snuggling with Michael in the rocker, rushing him to the bathroom sink, Mike sleeping with Michael on the living room couch, helping Mike change a couple dirty t-shirts, a pile of stinky laundry growing in the hallway, and gagging a couple times at the sour milk smell.
Side note: Not long ago I was questioning whether we should have bought our Clouds and Stars zipper sheets rather than the less expensive elastic kind. They were super helpful in the early days, and this experience made me a believer once again. Potty-training probably will too.
After our whirlwind night, I called my mom at 6:30 a.m. to suggest she bring a change of clothes like she did in the early spit-up days.
Both kids were sick again that day, and Michael threw up as soon as I took him out of his crib on Friday morning, so Mike stayed with them that day.
Saturday there was no more vomit (my mom was not so lucky--the bug got her), but both kids were still pretty lethargic with bursts of energy here and there.
Like I said, today they are milk-drinking, breakfast-eating, mommy-energy-draining giggle machines.
After their ear infection/coughing illness last month that turned into pneumonia for Sophie, this stomach bug (which the doctor's office said is going around) has me missing those breatmilk antibodies that seemed to keep the kids much healthier last year.
I'm also starting to miss how breastfeeding kept the holidays off my waistline. However, the "gitch-ya, gitch-ya" work-out routine should do some good.
1/16/11 Edited to add: The bug has reached my husband's stomach, and mine feels like there's a rock in it. I'm hoping my wish to reduce my waistline is not granted with that particular solution!
This was not the case for the last four days.
On Tuesday the kids returned to their center after more than two weeks at home for the holidays. Before the end of the day, I had gotten the center's "your child's health is important to us" email informing families that there was a case of conjunctivitis/pink-eye in the toddler room.
That night as we got the kids ready for bed, I noticed goo in Sophie's eyelashes and that her eye was a tad pink. Mike and I compared our schedules for the next day, and he planned to take time off.
In the morning, Sophie's eye looked fine. Mike took the kids to the center, told the teachers we were concerned and to call him to come get her if necessary, but there was no call. When I picked the kids up, I breathed a sigh of relief as the teachers said Sophie's eye did look a little pink but not to worry about it.
What I did worry about was how slowly she climbed out of her chair at the snack table, how much of the snack was still there, and how she didn't smile when she gave me a hug.
As I got Sophie out of her car seat at home, she looked sleepy. "Do you want to go in the house and snuggle with Mama?"
"Yeaaaah." She dropped her head on my shoulder immediately as I lifted her out. Inside she didn't want to say hi to the kitty, she didn't want to find toys in the playroom, she just wanted to take me up on my offer and cuddle on the couch. Luckily, Michael was happy to play on his own.
Sophie requested milk. Moments later she was vomitting on the living room rug, and then again, and then again. She didn't eat any dinner (as expected but very unlike her), and we skipped the storytime milk for her, having seen that her stomach turned it into cottage cheese earlier on. Michael followed his usual routine.
Since Sophie didn't have a fever, we chose to just wait this out, planning to call the doctor in the morning to be sure that was best and then the center to let them know what was up. It was my mom's day to watch the kids, but we thought they should know one of their kids had a bug.
In the middle of the night, Michael let out a frightened cry. Mike went in to check on him and called to me that Michael was puking. The rest of the night is a blur of changing crib sheet after crib sheet including one of Sophie's, snuggling with Michael in the rocker, rushing him to the bathroom sink, Mike sleeping with Michael on the living room couch, helping Mike change a couple dirty t-shirts, a pile of stinky laundry growing in the hallway, and gagging a couple times at the sour milk smell.
Side note: Not long ago I was questioning whether we should have bought our Clouds and Stars zipper sheets rather than the less expensive elastic kind. They were super helpful in the early days, and this experience made me a believer once again. Potty-training probably will too.
After our whirlwind night, I called my mom at 6:30 a.m. to suggest she bring a change of clothes like she did in the early spit-up days.
Both kids were sick again that day, and Michael threw up as soon as I took him out of his crib on Friday morning, so Mike stayed with them that day.
Saturday there was no more vomit (my mom was not so lucky--the bug got her), but both kids were still pretty lethargic with bursts of energy here and there.
Like I said, today they are milk-drinking, breakfast-eating, mommy-energy-draining giggle machines.
After their ear infection/coughing illness last month that turned into pneumonia for Sophie, this stomach bug (which the doctor's office said is going around) has me missing those breatmilk antibodies that seemed to keep the kids much healthier last year.
I'm also starting to miss how breastfeeding kept the holidays off my waistline. However, the "gitch-ya, gitch-ya" work-out routine should do some good.
1/16/11 Edited to add: The bug has reached my husband's stomach, and mine feels like there's a rock in it. I'm hoping my wish to reduce my waistline is not granted with that particular solution!
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Bath Toy Drying Solution
I saw this bath toy bag tutorial from Make It and Love It on Pinterest the other day and loved the look of it. However, instead of going to a fabric store, buying mesh and ribbon, possibly going to another store to buy suction cup hooks, and later spending precious nap time sewing the thing, I went to my basement.
I had two mesh laundry bags for delicates (now I only have one) and a few leftover suction cup hooks in a package (that's how I hang my bath poof). If I hadn't had the supplies on hand, I suspect one could find them at a dollar store for a whopping $2 investment, far less money than baby store bath toy bags and less time/effort than the DIY version.
Whatever the cost, it's worth it to have a tub ledge free of boats!
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