I don't say, "I'm the mom, that's why," although Hubby tells the boys he's their boss. To which my boys reply, "Yes, but Mama's YOUR boss." Indeed!
To stop the "he touched me" "he's looking at me" and fighting in the car, I don't threaten to turn the car around. The boys are mortally afraid of losing privileges and their most beloved toys (these days that's Bakugan, and if you're not a parent of a boy, you wouldn't understand.)
Anyway, just for fun, I counted how many times I said "Be careful" to both boys in one day. My total was 16. Really have to learn to let go a bit, hmm?
Nursing covers (my favorite is Bebe Au Lait's Hooter Hiders in cream eyelet) are one of those mommy things that makes having a baby more fun and convenient, right up there with the Boppy, pacifier covers, a good baby carrier and anything that helps baby sleep.
Elementary parenting stuff made cool.
After three kids, I know I don't have to have those pee-pee teepee covers to avert diaper changing geysers (a tissue or napkin will do just fine), nor do I need the $1,600 Louis Vuitton diaper bag. (My sister bought me a cute Petunia Pickle Bottom one at 75 percent off from a store that was closing. Otherwise, my old one still works.) And no, my little one will not be wearing a $190 checked Burberry dress.
But every year, there are new products and baby items out there that make parenting easier and/or just more fun.
The byword of all things baby these days is eco-friendly, so items boast about being green and free of chemicals, solvents, and other yucky stuff. Think hypoallergenic, all-natural, organic, and sustainable. Another byword (at least for me) is affordable. But if it works, I will pay more for it (Wonder Boy had sensitive skin as a newborn and the Mustela line of baby products was the only one that worked for him.)
What are some of the newest products making waves these days?
Phoebe, without missing a beat, tells him, "Well, let me help you. Give me Frank Jr. Jr.," and Frank says, "Oh no, not him! He's my little guy!" and proceeds to list all the great things about each child (Leslie and Chandler...OK, I had to look this up! I really don't know all the kids' names offhand.)
Ah, here's a synopsis: "Frank reappears in a later season and tries to convince Phoebe to take one of the triplets, because he claims to have not slept in four years. For arguments sake, they discuss which of the children Phoebe will take. She asks for Frank Jr. Jr., but Frank decides that Frank Jr. Jr. is too funny and that she can't take him. She then asks for Leslie, but he says no, because she is the only one who knows how to burp the alphabet. Phoebe then suggests Chandler, to which Frank replies, 'Oh, no, no, you can't have Chandler, no. No, no. She's my little genius. I got big hopes for her. She's gonna be a doctor or a realtor.' He then realizes that he has run out of children to give up and that he loves his children way too much to ever give any of them away.
In the end, Frank realizes once again how good he has it.
A Hershey's bite-size bar after lunch.
Half a Kit Kat shared with Wonder Boy for an afternoon snack.
Reese's peanut butter cup inhaled while making dinner.
Life is super sweet for all the parents indulging in the fruits of their kids' Halloween labors.
All this brouhaha over Baby Einstein may anger some parents. Some may throw out all their baby DVDs and LeapFrogs. I say something a wise friend told me when my firstborn was days old: "Follow your instinct."
The people at the Campaign for Commercial-Free Childhood claimed victory in their campaign against Baby Einstein (a Disney company) because Baby Einstein (to avoid a class action lawsuit, I presume) released a statement announcing it was going to begin issuing refunds for its Baby Einstein videos. Buyers of the DVDs can return them to Disney for $15.99 or exchange them for other products.
Nowhere did they admit, though, that the DVDs have no value.
Young Patrick:
You're my best girl and nothing you do is wrong,
I'm proud you belong to me;
And if a day is rough for me,
Having you there's enough for me.
And if someday another girl comes along,
It won't take her long to see,
That I'll still be found, just hanging around
My best girl.
Mame:
You're my best beau, you're handsome and brave and strong,
There's nothing we two can't face;
If you're with me, whatever comes,
We'll see that trouble never comes.
And if someday another beau comes along
Determined to take your place,
I hope he's resigned to falling behind,
My best beau.
Mame And young Patrick:
And if someday when everything turns out wrong,
You're through with the human race,
Come running to me,
Mame:
For I'll always be
Your best girl...
Young Patrick:
My best girl!
She smiled.
Not at me,
but she smiled, a quick, sweet upturn of her mouth, bow-shaped little lips
slightly open, lifting her chubby cheeks every so slightly, streaked with milky drool.
Baby No. 3 is only six weeks old, but I swear she smiled at her Papa 21 days after her birth day. She had just been fed (by me) and changed (by me), when I handed her over to Hubby so I could wash my hands. Hubby had just launched into his patented up-down-bouncy-dance-of-sleep when I looked over and saw it.
She was looking up at him adoringly with her wide, almond-shaped eyes as he spoke in singsong to her. Then she smiled, the look filling her face, her two hands clasped under her chin.
Hubby and I saw it. And though I didn't run to get the baby book so I could document the milestone like I did with Firstborn Son, we remember. (Hubby reminds me both boys smiled at him first, too.)
Now Baby smiles with increasing regularity (but never slow enough so I can catch it with the camera.) She does it most after a feeding, when she's just drifting off to sleep. She'll turn her head to one side, eyes drooping, eyes fluttering open, then closing again, then opening one more time before she sinks slowly into sleep, usually with one hand curled ladylike beside her cheek.
The smile comes soon after that, like a door's been opened in her sleep and she's happy to enter it. Who's greeting her at the threshold? I always wonder. Sometimes, the smile is followed by a golden giggle, a sound so sweet I want to play it over and over should I ever get the chance to record it. What's so funny? Could I get in on the secret?
You can read all about baby smiles during these earliest days being nothing more than an inborn behavior, just a reflex, or (you've heard this one before), "just gas." We're told babies don't really smile at you until they're at least two months old, if then.
Never mind all that.
But we've settled in as a fivesome nicely, methinks, two weeks into this new gig. Baby is sleeping RELATIVELY well, except for one night this week when she woke up at 2 a.m., and 3 a.m., then 4 a.m. and 5 a.m. She sleeps for three hour stretches and isn't much of a crier. She stops wailing as soon as anyone picks her up.
The boys ADORE her. They kiss her so much we have to ask them to stop. Wonder Boy wants to help with everything: fetching diapers, turning on her crib mobile, wiping her drool. Firstborn reports on her every achievement to anyone who will listen.
I am doing much better after the C-section, able at last to get up and down the stairs but still on pain medication. My brother-in-law reminded me yesterday not to drive if I'm on meds even if I'm not drowsy or sleepy as it can be considered drunk driving. Didn't think of that AT ALL! I will have to stop taking the meds then if I have to get behind the wheel, hmm?
This is the way it was supposed to happen: after I had washed and put away all the pretty pink things for Baby No. 3, tidied up the house best I could, prepared the boys for their first day of school, and stocked up on frozen dinners, I would go into labor, traipse into the hospital and give birth.
Both sides of the family would then go into Baby Mode, one aunt taking time off from work to stay with boys while Hubby and I were in the hospital, another taking over while everyone else took turns visiting us at the hospital where I would make them sign a proclamation that our baby was the cutest baby in the whole world.
By the time my due date came and went, and I was still pregnant, I had a feeling this pregnancy was going to throw me for a loop. And how.
My neighbors and his boys are staying in but we've evacuated to my in-laws for today at least. The smoke was just too much for me. I felt sorry for anyone out in the smoky streets this morning, but of course everyone has to go about their business: waiting for the bus, walking their dog.
Hubby opened the windows last night when the skies were still clear, but by midnight, smoke was wafting around the house already. It only got worse as the morning approached so we packed up the kiddos and headed due south. I would not have been able to stand the smoke for the whole day and I worry about the boys breathing that for such a long time too. So now we're raiding Grandma's fridge, enjoying the AC and hunkering down, hoping to get a call from our neighbor with the all clear signal.
How about you?
Breathe easy,
That's how Fox is teasing its special on Octomom Nadya Suleman, set to air on primetime tomorrow, Aug. 19.
Will the promise of never before seen footage, etc. make us miss our guilty pleasure, Wipeout? (Oh, we LOVE that show!)
Firstborn Son has a genuine horror for "bad" words while his younger brother enjoys tweaking them just enough not to get in trouble.
At our house, aside from the usual repertoire of unmentionable swear words, we forbid saying "stupid," "shut up," "hate" and OMG, substituting "silly," "be quiet" "don't like" and "oh my gosh" instead.
But since I have been a little busy baking something up myself, I haven't returned...until today, when a full-fledged pregnancy craving erupted in my brain. Hubby's going to have to drive over there for some peach heaven tonight!
Donut Man is at 915 E. Route 66 in Glendora. Keep an eye out for the sign since it's easy to miss. But boy, is anything from there always worth it! The specialty donuts are $2.60 each.
Ahhhh, I say, salivating ala Homer....DOUGHNUTS!
He would say it even if only one of his six daughters was in the car, or all of us. Mom would remind drivers of that too.
So it begs reason why a 36-year-old mom would have 10 drinks and smoke marijuana before attempting a 100-plus mile drive from an upstate New York campsite to her home. She had five children in the minivan with her. Four of the little ones, including the driver's own 2-year-old, were killed when she drove the wrong way on a parkway north of New York City.
Read the full story here.
It's sad to read her husband say he didn't notice anything wrong with her before they parted, or her relatives insist the children were always her first priority. What happened then? Why did she make the choice she made?
I don't drive with my glasses on because I feel I lose too much peripheral vision and I like to joke if I could tie mattresses on all sides of the car, but especially where the kiddos sit, I would.
Because it takes one time and one wrong choice to lose it all. Precious cargo.
Wonder Boy: Mama, do you know how much I love you?
Mama: No. How much?
Wonder Boy: To the moon and back from the moon sideways and in between infinity.
Mama: Wow. Do you feel how much I love you?
Wonder Boy: No.
Mama: You feel it in your heart. You're surrounded by love, you know.
Wonder Boy: (pondering) You mean this house is surrounded by love and we don't see it? I don't feel love in my heart. Only healthy things like fruits and yogurt that are good for you.
My sister also called with the news. My brother-in-law, who is half African American, texted everyone about how MJ was his idol and inspiration. Since I was more into New Wave music during Jackson's heyday, the news, while shocking, merely sent me into reporter mode.
That didn't stop us from catching the flurry of TV newscasts during dinner, though, which we allowed Firstborn Son to watch (switching channels every time the molestation charges part of the story came out.)
"Do you know who Michael Jackson is, sweetie?" I asked my 7-year-old.
"Doesn't he play basketball?" came the reply.
"No, you mean Michael JORDAN," his dad patiently said.
"Oh, sorry."
And out our boy went to play with his little brother.
I dropped some fish flakes in, all the time thinking of the best way to explain death and dying to a four-year-old.
Our yellow fish darted back and forth eating the flakes while poor Crabby lay sideways at the bottom of the tank.
"Maybe he's just resting," I suggested.
"No, Mom," Wonder Boy retorted. "I think he's dead."
Ahhh, what was that about our kids teaching us?
After I served it to him, he sat down on the floor and did his happy dance, shaking his bottom from side to side and jiggling his head from shoulder to shoulder.
"I am so happy I have to dance," he proclaimed.
May you have many reasons to dance today, even if its just for the blessing of a hot bowl of soup.
Here's Mom and Dad on their wedding day, Dec. 3, 1960. They forgot to confirm with the priest so they got a surly stand-in instead. But the bride was radiant and the festivities grand.Mom on marriage:
1. Work to be an equal partner in everything, from housework to the finances.
2. Trust your husband but trust your instincts too.
3. Don't be a doormat.
4. If all else fails, laugh.
On raising kids:
