WEARIN HIS SIX-SHOOTER

Coming from Los Angeles, Punks is somewhat unaware of cowboys. Houston is packed full of them. Their ranches are somewhere out west and they are anxious to get back as soon as they take care of some business here in the city. We are working on her knowledge of Cowboys. Auntie K and Uncle Chris got her some pink boots for Christmas. Complete with a silver toe in case she really wants to get after it.

Punks and I went to the grocery store this morning.  "mama, mama, mama, oooooook" she points. There he was.  In true cowboy fashion.  Worn out Wranglers, sun faded shit kickers, Texas sized belt. He was missing only the lasso and the horse. He walked slowly past her, tipped his hat, a slight smile. She fell apart in giggles screaming "mamamamamama, mmeeeeee!"

And then he was gone. Through the sliding doors.
In search of whiskey, miss kitty, a place to hang his hat.

TURBULENCE

There are two types of turbulence. One kind is when the airplane drops twenty feet, everyone gasps and looks around to make sure the plane is still in tact. The other is flying with two very small children. 2 months and 25 months. We are moving to Florida. Pit stop in Texas to spend Christmas with my family. Hubby had to drive Mister (our 100 pound yellow lab).  So, I was on my own with the girls, two car seats, a stroller and enough luggage for three weeks in tow.

GRINCH

This year we are spending Christmas with my parents. My mom was just here about a month ago and Punks is still looking for her, in the bathtub, in the closet of the guest room as if I am hiding her somewhere. Punks will let out one of her high volume screams when she sees Nana again.  And we will see Papa who is the other half of Nana and thinks it hilarious to spoil the girls rotten as payback for me being a crazy wild child. 

The fall is my favorite time most wonderful time of the year and yet the kids' birthdays and Christmas Day quickly hit the top of the list as my least favorite. Your a mean one, Mr. Grinch. You really are a heel.  Why am I such a grinch?  your as cuddly as a cactus, your as charming as an eel. TOYS TOYS and MORE TOYS! And as all mom's of girls know, every damn thing is PINK. Punks' room already looks like barbie throw-up. you have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch.  PINK PINK everywhere. ugh. These toys make me crazy not because they make obnoxious noises or because when I trip over them I almost break my ankle or at the very least acquire a new bruise or even because they leave puncture wounds in my feet. nope  It is the packaging and assembly of these horrendous things. you're a bad banana with a greasy black peel.

Lets start with the plastic casing. It is stuck together so tight you need some sort of sharp object to get it open. My husband likes to use his pocket knife which he uses to cut everything from snacks to mail and oh yeah, Punks' umbilical cord when she was born.  And if you have had five a few glasses of wine, the sharp plastic almost always draws blood. When the casing is finally pried away from the toy, you see your daughter's face light up with excitement as she reaches for her PINK toy, doll, noise maker, whatever.  But wait, there is more. There are wires holding this toy to the plastic! Are you effin' kidding me? DAMN! What jack*ss came up with this packaging idea?

You hand the toy to your child. "MAMA, MAMA!" ear deafening volume "WHAT!?!" your a monster, Mr. Grinch. your heart's an empty hole. She hands me the pieces. oh dear lord, there is more. It has to be assembled.  you're a crooked dirty jockey and you drive a crooked hoss, Mr. Grinch. There are directions, twisting, tightening and snapping pieces together and finally it is complete. whew.  

running time... 25 minutes

And then.... along will come Papa with another present to unwrap, plucked from the toy mountain under the tree. he will have a devious smile on his face. the instigator. here we go. again. round two. grrr.  I will give him my most nastiest look. your heart is full of unwashed socks, your soul is full of gunk, Mr. Grinch.

"MAMA, whats wrong?" "Nothing! No more presents for you!"   The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote, stink, stank, stunk

 

where is that bottle of wine?
~SOS

TEXAS GIRL

TO ALL MY HOUSTONIANS OUT THERE

Although I don't live there anymore and probably never will again, I still feel a great love for the city where I grew up. We get to spend Christmas there this year with my whole famn damily. Here are some of my favorite things:

NAKEDNESS

It seems punks loves to feel the air on her skin. Last night, using one of her squawk calls, "MAMA, MAMA, MAAAMAAAA!" I finally gave in and went to see what the hell she wanted at 3am. She wanted milk, of course. But what I also found was a completely naked child, no diaper, no nothing and a very wet bed. She then proceeded to use her crib as a trampoline and fell apart in a fit of laughter. a toddler's sense of humor can be a little off sometimes. 

My conclusion is that nakedness is genetic. When I first met my hubby, we used to joke that his friends had seen him naked more than I had. I heard story after story of him running naked in college. Like when his brothers found him passed out in front of the church after he tried to break in with his dog running circles around him in attempt to wake him.  um, your bed is next door in the fraternity house. Even now when the boys get together for their nights of debauchery, you will inevitably always hear the famous line, "Who stole my pants?!" Thankfully, my hubby keeps his clothes on in public now, although not by preference I am sure.

So, I am hoping punks is going through a phase and will grow out of this because if she acts like her father did in college we are in some serious trouble. shooo karma, do not set up shop here.

It fits. Daddy's little girl, she is her father's daughter.
~SOS

FALL TO YOUR KNEES

I haven't said much in a while probably because I am still reeling at the shock of baby girl #2. We don't really have a pet name for her yet. My husband calls her "deuce" but this is not going to stick because of obvious reasons that I will not explain. When I was pregnant with both girls he had the name Leonitius picked out for a boy.  I'm 90% sure he was serious. Only a man would come up with names like that for their child. Perhaps if she were a boy I would let "deuce" slide. However, I would never agree to Leonitius.  Anyhooo, I am still trying to figure out why it feels like I have five children now instead of just two? Having one was fantastic, but throw another into the mix and all I do is change diapers and chase punks while #2 is a permanent fixture emerging from my boob. My brain is not even functioning at half capacity due to the fact I can't string together more than two hours of sleep at a time and if I am lucky a whopping five total for the night. It seems eating, showering (at least before noon) and sleeping is a thing of the past, at least for now. I have not one, but two shadows. I often find myself wondering about people who have more than two children... do they know how children are made or are they just straight up crazy?

This morning as my boob extension is latched on uncomfortably tight, I ask my hubby to please change punks dirty diaper and he says, wait for it... "not what I had in mind first thing in the morning, that is your job" I think I even saw some chest pumping as he was exiting the room.

Now, hold up. I will say I am happy we both agree I am the best candidate to raise our children. It is the most rewarding 24 hour-a-day, 365 days-a-year, non-stop, no-lunch-break or football-Sunday-time JOB on the planet, but I do not always appreciate my hubby's caveman like thinking. Still let us lay this out...

My hubby is a sports agent and so he jets all over the world representing his MMA fighters. He just came back from Germany and is set for Australia in late February. (I am going to Australia, *smile*) There will also be some trips in between to Canada and who knows where else. So, I am in all aspects of the word, a single mom a lot of the time. He negotiates big contracts and rubs elbows with the whos who in the fighting world because, well he manages some of the top fighters. However, when I escape to yoga when he is here, my only escape alone ... I get home and he always has a bewildered look on his face and is generally mumbling something about punks being the tasmanian devil and #2 being high maintenance. #2 is six weeks old. A few of his mumbles as the house is always in shambles: "Honey, you cant get anything done when you have the girls!" & "Please take #2, I have to go to the bathroom!" you held your pee for 2 hours?! The best was when #2 projectile pooped on him while he was changing her and although funny, the joke was on me in the end because I was the one cleaning it up when I got home. So, the short of it is, my hubby can run with the big boys, but two tiny girls bring him to his knees. Good job girls. 

I love staying home with my girls. #2 sleeps in the bed with us much to hubby's disapproval. Last night he really pushed me to put her in her own bed even when I told him it wouldn't work.  Of course it didn't and as soon as I set her down she was wide awake. I went downstairs to show hubby his plan didn't work and he was snoring on the couch. awesome. I banged around a bit and made some noise in an effort to rise him and he snored right through it all. He must have been tired. Imagine that. Meanwhile it took me three hours to get her back to sleep. last time I listen to him.

It would be nice to have a little more help from hubby... especially when both girls are crying, but I wouldn't trade my JOB for the world. I sometimes wish I could take a nap, but Bikram keeps saying in class that the Ardha-Kurmasana yoga pose has more benefits than eight hours of sleep. I think I will go do that pose now. I'm tired.

Signing off for now,
SOS

NEWBORN BABIES ARE NOT AS CUTE AS THEY APPEAR.

The arrival of #2.

CARDWOO HOOO

Among Punks' many accessories, her favorites are her many purses. What can I say? Like mother, like daughter. She loves to keep all kinds of things in her purse like pretend "ipsticks", lotions and credit cards not real credit cards duh, they are unused gift cards.  She has many "credit cards" (are we teaching her this bad habit too early?) because we always seem to get gift cards to places that we will never go. I don't even know where there is an Academy in Los Angeles and we never get to go to the movies so those are out. There are zero Cracker Barrels anywhere near us and who the hell ever heard of Fashion Bug?  I am sure it is a great store, maybe I am just out of the fashion loop. So, these cards along with others just hang out around the house. At least Punks has a good time pretending with them, huh?

Last week it was hotter than Haiti in Los Angeles and then the rain came. So, punks and I have been confined to the house and have watched so much TV I am afraid I have done some permanent damage to my little girl's developing brain. There are only so many games to play,  dress-up sessions to pretend and books to read before you just end up in front of the TV for extended amounts of time. So incredibly bored there are no words.  BUT, then I saw it. A commercial for CardWoo. I pulled up my laptop to check it out: www.cardwoo.com. They will buy my unwanted gift cards? They will send me a check? I can buy cards from them at a discount and the shipping is free? Who dreams up this stuff? What a fantastic idea! A shopping trip for ME and beautiful accessories start dancing in my head. So, I fill out the information they asked for online and my little (prepaid postage) package arrives a few days later. As I stuff the gift cards inside, I am starting to get excited. Maybe I can catch the mail lady before she rounds the corner.

I will get back to you on how much money they give me for the cards. The nice customer service lady informed me if I wasn't satisfied they would send my cards back in the mail. I just have to decide within 14 days. ummm, I think I will know if I am satisfied when I get the check.  In the meantime, I am checking out all the cards that CardWoo offers at a discount (free shipping) and I think I have narrowed it down to Coach or SAKS.  This mama needs a new bag. Wooo Hooo CardWoo! 

To be continued...

TIARAS, TUTUS AND TANTRUMS, OH MY

When our daughter was born my husband gave her the name pumpkin. Maybe because she was born in the fall, but definitely not because she looked like a pumpkin. She was neither round or orange. Over time as her personality developed she grew into the name "punks" because well, she is a straight up punk (ass), but she is also very much a girly girl. This plays out to be an interesting combination.  Punks wears her pink tutu whenever it is clean and sometimes when it is not if she can find it in the laundry, follows me around with nail polish until I paint her toes and can't rub enough lotion on herself  and her always naked bebeh doll she totes around everywhere. she is always sporting multiple smells at the same time.  Still even when punks is all dolled up, she always manages to find some mud to roll around in.

Punks is almost two and two year-olds have this reputation for being defiant and obnoxious, a reputation that I am quickly learning is completely justified. At almost two, she is also considered a toddler, except she doesn't toddle, she sprints. Punks has two speeds: fast and off.

So, all of that said, getting dressed in the morning, or anytime for that matter is a challenge.  Sometimes, if we are home all day I just leave her in her pajamas. Yes, I do. I don't always have the energy.

This morning we picked from not one or two but three outfits and then after she had tried each of them on she was still not satisfied and wanted to pick out a fourth and then a fifth. No, I am not exaggerating, I wish I was. Sometimes they match, most of the time they don't, but who cares as long as she puts something on without throwing herself on the floor while kicking and screaming at the top of her lungs.  right? This morning I had to walk away with my patience hanging by a thread and when she came to our room, she was naked again, dragging me back for yet another outfit.  No, you can't wear your tutu today, it is covered in dirt from the playground. No, you can't wear your winter coat. Yes, it is pretty, but it is 75 degrees outside. Okay, if you would like to wear your jean skirt and pink top with black and orange leggings and blue and pink polka dot socks go right ahead. No shoes? WHATEVER! happy? thank god!

running time 20 minutes...

Oh wait, there is more.  Now we have to put in the pigtails. Then, she would like to wear every bracelet and necklace she owns and of course clip on earrings, can't forget the earrings. Her jewels are of course scattered around the house because of our dress up session yesterday. It is great when you wake up in the night to use the restroom and step on a piece of her bulky, sharp, dress up jewelry.  When she is satisfied she checks herself out in the mirror. Oh, a purse! "MAMAMA, PURSSSSEEEEEE". We find one that works with the outfit. Mirror check again.  beautiful.  Now, one last thing, we have to brush the teeth, loves to brush her teeth. whew. mission accomplished and mama even gets kisses and hugs on the way out the door.

running time 40 minutes...  40 minutes!?!?! she is a not even two year old non-toddling toddler.  god help us.

TAKING THE MATERNITY TOUR... SORTA

Both my husband, L and I are wise asses and what happens when the two of us go places together is we usually make fast friends with other wise asses lurking around or else we get ugly stares and looks of disapproval from our surrounding peeps. He is, however much more vocal than me most of the time. One can only imagine whats in store when we are out with our friends, but that is for another day. Hey, we like to have a good time. and yes, we are those people...

Last night, at 36 weeks we decided it was time to register at a hospital and take our maternity tour....sorta.  Our first was born at UCLA and L complained the recovery room and bed were too small for him.  So, this time he wanted to go to St. Johns because he had been there and the rooms were much better. OMG, HE was uncomfortable? Unthinkable. Nonetheless, we are switching hospitals in order to make him more comfortable this time around.

As we walk in the room, there is a 9lb baby doll being passed around. The tour guide lady wants everyone to know what a nine pound baby feels like. (okay? because that prepares you for pushing it out of your you know what? and who the hell has a 9lb baby anyway?)  We haven't even found a seat and L starts up, "I have a 22 pound baby if anyone wants to know what that feels like." Here we go. A few giggles. Maybe this wont be so bad. The tour lady launches into her power point and we just look at each other and I know exactly what L is thinking, "crap, I have my training session in an hour and this is not looking good." The slides go on and on.... and on.  My toddler has a dirty diaper so I get a quick break. When I come back we change seats so she can better entertain herself. Why didn't I bring toys you ask? Well, I did, but she is never interested in those. And why would she be when there is a big white table she has never seen before and some chairs that are big and brown and oh my, a white board she can color on? I drift away for a minute while she colors and when I come to, I hear the tour lady telling everyone it is California state law to have an infant seat in your car when you leave the hospital. ummm, duh. One wifey asks if it is okay to install it yourself or do you have to have a professional install it?  seriously? L doesn't miss a beat, "he can do it (looking at her husband), but its all on you man!"  blank stare from the husband and wife. a few smirks. silence. yup, we are making friends. A few minutes later, the same wife turns and glares at us and says to the guide lady, "I am sorry I can't hear you. Can you repeat that?"  Clearly this is her first child. Yes, you must pay close attention wifey there will be a quiz later.  I will say say, our toddler could have been a little quieter, but most is to blame on my husband. He was board and would start to poke at her, she would start giggling, they would exit for a minute (repeat) and this was possibly causing a disturbance, but other than that she was very good...she loves her daddy.

Finally, the power point draws to a close and at this point and we have toured exactly nothing, but still we take this as our cue. During the break, I find the tour guide and ask her to point at the doors we enter when it is "time".  I hand her our paperwork and we make our escape. I am sure the rooms are quite lovely and L has to make his training session. As the doors to the elevator were closing, L looks into the eyes of wifey and says, "I hope you have a horrible labor." nice.

In the car I comment that the husband of the wifey was a little dull. L's reply, "that's because she has castrated him, honey." .... and there you have it.

BEBE IS POTTY TRAINED

Alert: potty training mode. Yes, we have entered the black hole and I am afraid of exactly when we may emerge, if ever on the other side.  This morning my toddler comes running, "bebe pooopoo!" and I go with her to the bathroom only to find the good news, bebe used the potty!  Still, although bebe apparently has it down, my toddler seems to be perfectly content in her diapers. She does the wiggle dance when she goes pee and informs me proudly when she poops, but she no desire to do this on the potty.  She will however, sit on her potty and make a "ssssssssshhhhhhhh" noise and pretend she is going potty. Then she takes exactly one panel of paper and wipes her pretend pee.  As I write this I have to get up and go myself (8.5 months pregnant) and this triggers the whole game.  "MAMA, poooopoooo" as she goes running towards her bathroom to pretend once again. This is great.  Who else wants to join the party?  We sit there for a few minutes with me encouraging her and she decides she is done. Of course, nothing.  So we put on a diaper and I start to walk away.  "MAMAMAMA!"  Now she has to wash her hands. What was I thinking walking away without the washing of the hands!?!

We have tried a few different approaches, such as reading books on her mini plastic throne in order to pass the time in hopes to get an accidental pee that could be rewarded with a treat, but this simply turned into our new book corner and her thinking it is hilarious to be able to read on the pot. I have also tried using her bathroom in hopes she would sit with me and we could do it together, but as I was bending over to help her join me, she thought it a better idea that mommy wear the potty seat as a hat. So, I am not sure what I am supposed to do next, but the good news is my mom visits in a few weeks and she is super mom. So, I will hand the torch to her in hopes she has some magical idea that will work. In the meantime, I am happy bebe goes on the potty.

"NOOOO MAMA, NOOOO"

All I hear lately from my toddler is "noooo mama, noooo" and let me just start off by saying my husband seems to think this is because all I do is tell her no.

Lets recap:
"MAMA!!" as she is jumping up and down on the dog facing backwards so she can pull his tail.
"mama, this?"  as she grabs my iPhone and runs towards the toilet.
"mama, MINE!" as she sticks her fingers in my chapstick and smears it all over herself.
"mama, yummm" as she eats her shoe. (really?)

Perhaps I do tell her no a lot, but what am I supposed to say, "good job honey!" ? I try to explain why, but she is off to the next stunt and I am left talking to myself.

My sister seems to have some great, logical answers for me, but then I am left to wonder how she knows so much while I know so little. Clearly she got hold of a genetic manual that was not made available to me. Did I mention she is 24?

Sometimes I feel like I am in mourning for the child that was in my womb. When I was pregnant I had beautiful visions about this perfect little angel who was well behaved because I, of course cracked the whip and she ever so willingly obeyed. Where is the well behaved, calm, eager to please child I so clearly envisioned? Clearly I was hallucinating. My husband and I are the furthest thing from calm, go with the grain sort of people.

The good news is, she is perfect, just not the way I envisioned, but is anything ever the way you picture it to be? My toddler is happy and crazy and full of energy, she is outgoing, independent, curious and is so eager to soak up the world around her.  (I am sure your kids are wonderful too) All of this also means she is defiant and pushes and pushes and pushes just to see how far she can push and when it leads to her getting in trouble, she wants to hug and kiss and make up, but only for the split second she knows you are actually angry. Then she simply wiggles out of your arms and is off running again. Take 2, or 5 or on some days, take 945.

So, I start to read about this "no" thing she is doing and read things like "when your child's favorite word is 'no' and her default position is defiant, just relax" and "Be calm, maybe sometimes she gets to play with her toys a little longer when you are ready for her to pick them up". Clearly this was either written by a man or a woman with incredible patience. Strike 2. I am missing the genetic manual my sister has and come to find out the patience gene.

All of this becomes a bit overwhelming as I think that daughter number 2 is going to grace us with her presence on October 18th. We know this is the day because I am being induced which is how I did it with my first. Gotta love California doctors.  I am very ready to have this baby as I truly hate being pregnant. Crap. Strike 3. Women baffle me when they walk around acting like it is so wonderful to be pregnant. What is so wonderful? Gaining weight, swelling, constipation (tmi?)? Or is it the part where you can't hardly breathe or maybe the fact that you have to pee every 15 minutes? What in the hell is so great about all of that? In any case lets get this show on the road. I am ready for number 2 and this time I don't have any expectations.