SHE'S BACK

I am really sick of Miss Fairy. I know she is there. I can feel her evil snicker. That and Little K is drooling and chewing on everything. toys, furniture, me, Punks, the dog. oh and the fever. We have gone through so much Tylenol I am considering buying stock.  Don't judge.  I don't ordinarily drug my kids (usually I drug myself), but drastic times...

Yesterday, Little K and Punk's were playing with the disney princess dolls.  Punk's foot dangling over the side of the chair.  Little K must have thought it looked appealing and decided maybe Punk's big toe could be used instead of the teething ring in her hand. So, she crawled over and bit down. with her 2 teeth. Screams of pain at ear deafening decibels shot out of Punk's mouth. jumping around on one foot. arms flying in all directions. completed with the dramatic drop to the floor in exhaustion. You would have thought Little K chomped the toe right off.  After, a solid hour of whining, three very wet washcloths to wipe away the pain and a pack of princess bandaids, we somehow we managed to save the toe. It was a close one, but she still has all 5 on each foot.

later, Punks tells Little K, "no problem, my toe okay now" 

whew. we are all so glad.   

What seemed like an eternity after that, it was bedtime. I battled Punks about brushing her teeth before bed. Does it ever end? I am quickly growing weary of your games Miss Fairy. 

I tell her ONE story and then bed. she plucked Go the F*^K to Sleep out from under the coffee table. okayyy. appropriate. good choice Punks. 

If only she had listened to my words....
"it is time to sleep my little princess"
..... now, go the F^*K to sleep!
~SOS~

NAYME GAYMES

I have a friend, lets call her K. She and I are so much alike it is really eerie.  We can talk on the phone for hours and hours about EVERYTHING. When we lived in the same city we talked on the barstool side by side for hours. You think I am exaggerating. I am not. She has been my sidekick for many years now. She is the one I call when I have done something questionable or said something unfiltered (I know, shocking) because she will always understand, most likely laugh- even if I get an "oh, yikes" first-, relate and then attempt to justify my words and/or actions.

The other day we were laughing remembering about her string of men.  There was trainer guy, pink shirt guy, Ohio guy, to name a few. I will not list any of the sexual names we have for her men. That would be inappropriate. I am sure you can use your imagination. None of them have actual names though. They never do unless she becomes serious with them which is rare.  The name thing also spills over to the friends we share. Let me say, if you are not super close to us and sometimes even if you are, you have a name other than your own. Whether it is angel face, booty, crazy chick or something else that describes you, you have one.

My kids have multiple names too. Each family member has their own special name for my kids.  I am not even sure how this came about. As far as I can remember it was my sister and my husband who each gave my eldest her own special name and it went from there.  Each girl has about 3 variations of their actual name. Then add Punks, Pumpkin, Doodle Bug, Diva, Boogie, Angel, Pea among a few others and it is questionable if they will grow up confused as to what their name actually is. My oldest daughter named her little sister "bebe" and it stuck. seriously. I sometimes catch myself asking her to please "be nice to bebe".

So when I was at the playstation a few days ago, as the little people were running circles around me, I started thinking about the whole name game. There are so many unique names out there now, not pet names or nicknames, but actual names on a birth certificate. Some of them borderline strange if you ask me, but what does my opinion matter anyway? They are out there and I can't help but wonder, as parents, have we become too obsessed with original baby names?  It has become a non-spoken competition.  You meet a new mom and ask what her child's name is. There is a pause in conversation. She is waiting for you to say, "oh, I like that name" or "wow, what a great name".  So, you say it as an automatic response.  Just the way you say "nice to meet you" when you meet your husband's business associates for the first time when your really thinking, "ohhh, I heard about you, your the one who..."

So, how did all of this come about?  Why did a generation whose parents named them Nicole, James, Brooke and Matt decided their babies would go by Suri, Pax, Zola, Blossom and Liberty?  Names that used to be common such as Allison, Caitlin, Madeline, Amelia and Katie are now spelled Allyson, Kaitlyn, Madalyn, Emilia and Cady.  When did Connor drop a 'n' and Jackson become Jaxon?

Harley used to be a motorcycle not a little boy in the sand box.  Paris was once a destination not a snotty, spoiled heiress. Apple was a computer and Noah had an Ark, not the new scooter who plays with his friend named Scooter.

A few feet away I noticed August, Spring and April come in from Sommer's birthday party.  They were talking about how hot it was already for June.  August announced she wanted to have a pool party too for her birthday in a few months.

And then in poured the Taylor, Harper, Scott and Dillon families who are all very close. Charlee and Dylan Taylor who are both girls, play with Taylor Harper and Harper Dillon not to be confused with Charlie Dillon who is a boy and plays with Scott Harper and Dillon Scott.

I learned from one gossip-y mom that Bliss, Joy and Harmony will have to find new playmates soon. Turns out their parents' divorce is almost final and they will be moving away. 

And what will happen when Keegen, Teegen, Deegen and Meegen all end up in the same classroom at school? Or worse when Kiley, Kyleigh, Kylee and Kylie all end up in the same classroom? I feel sorry for that poor teacher.

Hope, Faith and Grace attend church every Sunday, duh, where they meet up with their friends Basil, Honey and Chi.  Last week they thought it clever to bring treats. So, they brought Chi Tea with basil and honey to sip on while they learn about Jesus and their destiny which is not the same as the little boy, Jesus or the little girl, Destiny whom are both in their class at school.

Would a child be confused with a name like Dakota when they are from Alabama or Brooklyn when they are from North Dakota? Would they be teased if they were named Georgia from Georgia or is that acceptable? Are Austin and Dallas cool as long as they were from Texas.

No lie, I actually met a Waffle the other day and it was not on my plate at the Pancake House.

I could go on, but you get my point.

Everything, even names have become a competition. Has life always been that way, or have I just become wise to it as I have gotten older? I saw a post on fb from L last night. I love when people get all poetic on fb.

A wise friend made a great point yesterday. What if everyone in the world looked exactly the same and the only thing to differentiate us was our personalities? Everyone would work very hard to have a great personality and the world would be a more peaceful place! Now i'm not saying I don't like to work on my looks too. I just said a friend made a great point.

My initial thought was 'huh, would you have to wear a name tag your whole life? hopefully your parents named you well'... 'what if we all had the same name?' 

oy veh
~SOS~

LOVE

You could ruin your child's future by not getting them into the correct preschool.  Research the schools when your pregnant so you can start plunking down your deposits while they are still in the womb.  That way when your child speaks 3 languages and reads before age 2, you can brag that your little Johnny goes to the primo preschool down the road.

Know the parents I am speaking of?

I took Punks to the Playstation the other day to run out some energy.  We are new to the area and I asked a pair of moms about the good preschools in town. GASP!!  They stared silently at me with their completely horrified faces.  Your toddler has not attended preschool yet??  You haven't secured her a spot for the fall yet?!?  You would have thought I just told them I let my child watch more than one hour of television per day. Oh, wait.  I guess they decided to save my daughter from her incompetent mother because when they regained consciousness I was totally bombarded with rules, regulations and deadlines about getting my child into a good preschool now so that I don't completely ruin her future. I wanted to run for the slide tunnels and crawl in after Punks to hide from them.

I just haven't seen the need to send Punks to preschool just yet.  She is learning her colors, numbers and all of the things a 2 year old should know just fine.  However, now it is time. She needs some structure in a bad way. She needs time away from mommy to spread her wings. Okay, that was a bit fluffy. She needs to learn to sit in a chair and wait her turn to talk among other little humans her age.

We visited our first school the other day. When I walked in I was attacked with facts and figures and must dos and donts and everything in between. If my head wasn't securely attached to my body it would have spun off and landed on the table that held more "educational games" than you have ever seen.  All for sale. All with an absurd price tag. We are talking about plastic toys here people.  You want your child to succeed don't you? Well, then you must buy this $95 bag of blocks.

This preschool fad is out of control.  As much as I think it is necessary for a child to attend school starting about age 3 for social reasons, I am truly annoyed at the madness surrounding the preschool competition.  Too many parents are obsessed with their children being the best at everything. Sadly enough at their child's expense.

But me being annoyed doesn't matter because here I sit. Researching preschools in the area in order not to ruin my childrens' future.  I wonder if preschools have a PTA.  I have always wanted to be a PTA mom....

 

~SOS~

POWER MOBILITY

While watching late night tv last night there was a commercial that caught my attention. I sat straight up in bed. Eyes glued to the tv.

"Imagine going where you want..." 
really? that would be nice. ummm... to the mall? to paint my toes?  to a book store? can I get a coffee and sit down somewhere besides the children's section and read for a while?

"when you want..."
what about naps and bedtimes? feedings and snacks? I am not sure....  I'm not particularly fond of meltdowns.

"independently..."
stop. by myself? without one strapped to my front and the other hanging off my back or out of the cart grabbing at everything.  who will I talk to?  I am not sure if I know how to do by myself anymore.

"If you feel your limited mobility is keeping you from living life the way you want, then here's good news..."

uh huh, uh huh..... great! lets hear it!

a chair?

well, it is motorized....

hmmmmmm........

I could roll through the house.  No more puncture wounds to my feet from make believe food and puzzle pieces. No more tripping over balls and dolls left out in the floor. No more bruises from walkers, miniature tables, chairs and stools. I could bulldoze through it all.  My legs could be bruise and scrape free. My feet cut free.

wow.

I could have power mobility.
~SOS~

SHOO TOOTH FAIRY

The tooth fairy is one crazy bitch in my opinion. She has two personalities and one of them is straight up mean witch.  Maybe she was an outcast in fairy school. Maybe the other fairies are mean to her and don't invite her to tea. Whatever the reason, she needs therapy.

Yes, she brings treats to little gummied children as they lay sleeping in their bed. The only time, aside from Christmas Eve that children will go to sleep willingly.  For this, she gets a few points. Ohhh, the excitement of loosing a tooth. Children can hardly stand the waiting, with all the anticipation of what the good fairy will bring them.

However, when the mood strikes Miss Fairy, she turns ugly and you never even see it coming. I wish I knew what provoked her. Maybe I could bribe her with more teeth or some chocolate chip cookies. something. whatever she wants.

This morning the wicked fairy thought it funny to hit up Little K while she was nursing. All of the sudden Little K clamped down hard and started teething on me! YIKES  as I attempt to rip myself from her jaws. Little K just looked up at me like, "whats wrong, mama?" I could feel the snicker of the evil fairy.  Show your face fairy. I've got something for you.  A few hours later, she struck again. Little K was drooling and crying with a nice fever to accompany the pain in her tiny gums. Seriously Miss Fairy, just tell me what you want. A new dress? what? anything can be negotiated.

Nope, Miss Fairy is not a nice fairy. She gets her mean on when children are small only to redeem herself years later by bringing them treats in exchange for their little teeth. Which raises the age old question: what does she do with all those teeth? Everyone is happy. for a few years.  You almost forget about her.  maybe that is the problem? Then, wham. She shows up again with no warning wearing her evil grin. Coming out of nowhere trying to cram some more teeth in your already filled up mouth.  Calling them 'wisdom teeth'. Funny fairy. very freakin' funny fairy. hilarious.

Someone please hire a hit man fairy and let's take this bitch out.

~SOS~

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.

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

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.

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.