BROCCOLI AND CHOCOLATE

I used to watch women with their children. Why do they have that exhausted, frustrated look on their face?  Why are they always telling their children no?  Why do they let their children run crazy like that?  Don't they know that bag of chips is not good for their little bodies?  I wondered. I thought. Are they enjoying motherhoood? Shouldnt they be happier?? Pull it together!! Pay attention to your child!! 

I know I will always pay attention to my children. They are the most important thing above all else.
uh huh. It will be perfect when it is my time. 

Recently I was on an important phone call. My youngest wants breakfast.

"Mommy, I'm hungry." I mouth to her "What would you like?" she thinks.  "um, chocolate"  "no, chocolate is after you eat your broccoli." I start to show her various other choices. She jumps up and down and throws herself on the floor screaming.

I walk away.

She follows.

"mommy, I'm hungry." I spin around to face her. she wants mac n cheese. no. lollipop. no. pirate booty. no. another tantrum.  I can't hear the person I am talking to.  I have to apologize for my screaming child. for my inability to control my child.  for my lack of mothering skills.  

I walk away.

she follows. more screaming. more kicking. more throwing herself to the floor.

I go into my closet. I'm straining to hear above the screaming pile of 3 year old on my bathroom floor.

"I'm sorry. I have to call you back"
wait on hold for another half hour. weed thru 95 call representatives to finally get the one who can actually help me....

deep breath.

I walk out of my closet.

She is still laying on the floor. exhausted. pouty face. looking at me like her world is over.

"mommy..."

uh huh.

"I just wanted to tell you... how about I eat broccoli and then have chocolate?"

for breakfast!?!?!?

fine broccoli and chocolate for breakfast

yep. it will be perfect when I have children.

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~

PINK UNICORN

Okay, so I said I wouldn't do it, but I did. I joined the MOMS CLUB.  I know, I know, but I thought maybe I could meet some friends. I haven't gone to a meeting or anything yet, but I have met a few of them out around town.

So, yesterday I received an email about donating childrens clothes to an orphanage. As I am gathering clothes, Punks is following me around asking "me watch mini mouse in mama's bed" after about the 35th time of telling her no I told her she would sit in time out if she asked again. So, for the next hour she sat in time out again and again and again. She would ask and then sit in time out. repeat. repeat. repeat. Between time outs and asking for mini mouse she was also asking to donate her pink unicorn to the babies. I told her while that was thoughtful, we were just donating clothes this time. She insisted. I said no. she asked again and again and again.  I felt like I was in groundhog day.

okay, all the clothes in a bag. ready for pick up. whew.

fast forward a few hours

"mama, me need pink ewww-ni"

umm, okay where did you put it?
"I dunno" okaaayyyyy......
for the next few minutes we looked everywhere and then it dawned on me....

"punks. did you give pink ewww-ni to the babies?"
"YEP" she announced proudly

awesome.

now, I have to get on the phone and call a woman I have spent about 30 seconds with and tell her while we were happy to donate, we are actually going to need the pink unicorn back.  I am really sorry. so, can I drop over in oh, say 10 minutes?

I tuck Punks into bed with pink ewww-ni that night and she says, "mama, me no wanna watch mini mouse in mama's bed. me go nigh night now"

um, yes please
~SOS~

CALLING MR DUCK

Never take your eyes off of a 2 year old.  Punks can get into trouble in less than five seconds if she thinks nobody is looking. A few weeks ago I caught her drawing on the dog with pink highlighter. "Please don't draw on the dog" The Master Bedroom wall. "Punks! Don't draw on walls!" Then it was the chair in the playroom. "paper, paper paper! we draw on paper!" So, yesterday she draws on paper AND herself. This time with permanent marker.

why do small children like to draw on everything?

My little sister used to do that too. We had pretty scribbles all over the house.  On the walls. On the backs of doors. on tables, chairs.  She drew a flower and a heart on our wallpaper in the bathroom one day.  My mother was so mad. Yeah, so mad she didn't change the wall paper until this year.

so, how do you remove permanent marker?
wait it out?
a few friends made some suggestions
my favorite was to color it in like a tattoo
she could match her daddy

while I am thinking on this one, I tell her lets go outside for a few minutes
she grabs her sunglasses and her phone
wonder where she learned that...

"mama, I ha ha call duck"
she is calling duck?
"Punks, are you calling duck on the phone?"
"MAMA, ssshhhhhhhhh, I ha ha call duck!!"
"hi duck. come wi wi me in wimming pool"
"honey, ducks can't swim in swimming pools. they swim in lakes"
"MAMA, shhhhhhhh I talking to duck!!"
she shoots me an exasperated look

okay............

and...

If your wondering about the cute tank, you can find her on facebook, "Kara Made It"
All clothing is made with lots of love and apparently lots of sass

~SOS~

CATCHING THE DUCK

Yesterday morning I heard a muffled scream from Punks as she was pressed against the bedroom window, "MAMA!" One very old duck was waddling around our backyard. "duck" I tell her. I can see the wheels turning in her head.... it is not yellow? it is not floating in my bathtub? "No, mama" she corrects me very calmly, "birrrrd".   We had this same run in the day before when she corrected me on ants. They were not ants, they were bugs.  duh, mama.

10 minutes passed. 20 minutes. Still watching the duck bird waddle around the yard.  Okay, lets go outside and get a close up of this fascinating creature.

"Don't run, you will scare him!" as she sprints out the door all squeals.  Turns out he was not scared.  He opened his wings and let out this crazy QUAAAKKKKK.  Punks u-turns and sprints back towards me, eyes wide.

Plan B. Clearly this duck is used to being harassed by little humans.

I scoop up Punks and we fetch a piece of bread from the house.  Yep, now he wants to be friends with us.

Piece by piece we give him some bread. At that point she was satisfied. On to the next adventure. "Byyyyeee birrrrrrd! seeeee uuuuuu laterrrrr birrrrrd!"

And we did. This morning I pull back the curtains and our little friend was waiting for us.  I have had many dogs, some fish, never a cat and definitely never a pet duck before. Could be an interesting change.

~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.

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.

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.