Christmas Eve

Merry Christmas from the Spudly's!
Love,
Spud, Tater Tot, Small Fry, & Mama Spud

Just in case you think we're always happy and perfect and smiling....

We want to go to bed!

23 months (Tot), 3.5 months (Fry)

I'm a bad mom...

Ho ho ho!! (Who you callin' a ho??)

Ok, so I'm the worst mom in the world. We went to an 80's birthday party at the Parsnips house and we dressed up. Even Tater Tot. And Spuddy put eyeshadow and lipstick on her. My baby! In makeup! Acckk!! But she was freakin' adorable.



Reason number 2 why I'm the worst mom in the world. She split her lip. It was late and I was about to give her a bath, but she said she wanted a snack. Ok, snack, then bath, then bed. Right? Wrong. I put her on a chair behind me, went to fix her snack, then she fell off the chair and straight onto her face on the floor. I think she bit her lip with those sharp little rabbit teeth and, in reality, it wasn't that bad. But blood on the lip mixes with saliva and then - boom! Blood dripping out of the mouth! All over the place! ACK! Nothing some chocolate, Mommy kisses, and some Dora on Netflix streaming on iPhone can't fix.

Reason number 3 why I'm the worst mom in the world. Tori.

Namely, Victoria Justice on the show Victorius on Nickelodeon. She's obsessed with the songs and the shows. Oh, and iCarly.

"Mommy, Sammee? Gibbee? Tor-wi? Dance?"

Ugh. Shows for teenagers without any educational content whatsoever. I'm not so upset about Elmo because he teaches her about things like noses and the weather. What do those show teach? How to rub her belly and kiss boys. Greeeaaattt....


Reason number 4 why I'm a bad mom... Potty training.

Yeah right. We're trying. Sort of. Most of the time I say, "Just go in your pants, I can't help you right now." And then, the other night, she was trying to tell me she was having a bad poop (the extraction kind...ew...) and I was busy partying, so I said, "Go tell Daddy to change your diaper."

Poor Spud had to handle it on his own. And she DID poo on the potty... but it was under duress. I don't think it's good to have such a negative experience to help her progress. Oh poor baby...


Reason number 5 why I'm a bad mom... My insistence for the perfect picture.

Sorry Santa. Hope you get your eardrums back.





But it's not all bad.... sometimes there's some really sweet times...


Reason number one why I'm an awesome mom.... I taught my 23 month old to sew.

And that... was one of the best moments of mommyhood. I love that sweet little girl. I can't wait to see what kind of woman she will become. Hopefully, I little like me <3

Tot - 1 year, 10 months, Fry - 2.5 months

Quiet Morning

The Tater Tot had a rough night last night. I know she's at the verge of potty training and really I should do more about it, but I really don't have enough hands to help her. I can't just drop what I'm doing/cleaning/changing/nursing/burping, etc., to run and help her on the potty. But she's becoming visibly upset when she pees in her diaper. And on more than one occasion, I've had to say to her, "You need to pee? Ok, pee in your diaper, Mommy's feeding Sissy and can't get up right now."
Horrible mommy. Really. Just awful.

I should just install a potty in every room of the house and just let her run around pants-less so she can just take care of it herself. She'll get it. Eventually. If not, we just bought a new rug scrubber.

Ohmygodthatthingisamazing!

And Spud is pretty amazing too for cleaning the living room/entryway. The amount of juice spills on that carpet was rid-iculous! Ugh!

Moving on...

Anyways, I'm up early, before everyone else again. I fed Small Fry at 6:30am and of course, once she's done, I'm too awake to go back to sleep because I know I'm just going to have to get up soon. So I grabbed a shower, and that was pretty drama free and not too time consuming, so I decided to *pamper* myself and put on some lotion. I rarely get a chance to lotion my (hopefully) shrinking tummy with special skin firming lotion (that must only work on the skinny people on the label), so I was feeling a little empowered.

What else can I pamper myself with? Is that a forgotten pore strip at the bottom of my makeup box?

(Yes, I have a box. Don't judge.)

I have clean pores. And painted toe nails. And exquisite eyeliner. I may have gone a little overboard for cleaning day that entails me wearing sweatpants (cut-off, no less).

But no one was sucking/climbing/hitting/peeing/pooping/ (or otherwise draining the life out of me) on my body, so I felt the need for a little pampering. Tater Tot is sleeping in due to her stressful peeing in the middle of the night (Sorry Mommy couldn't get here faster because Sissy was eating and Daddy was sleeping on the couch again. No no, honey, sweetie, don't worry! We're not getting a divorce... yet. Daddy just likes to snore and didn't want to wake (anger) Mommy. )

And Spud and Small Fry are snuggling in the bed. I hope he doesn't suffocate her in his sleep. Again. He has a bad habit of that.


So it's me and the cats and my coffee. Chilling at the dining room table. Waiting for the house to wake up. And I'm ok with being up early, for once.





Tater Tot's Vocabulary - 22 Months
Big
Carrot
Mimo
Rainbow
Bridge
Up
Sissy
Belly
Toes
Nose
Eyes
Eat
Bird
Ears
Bite
Hit
Pee
Poo
Buttcrack
Butt
Nice
Hair
Shirt
Fork
Bib
Cheese
Down
Mama/Mommy
Dada/Daddy
Booster
Seat
Itsy
Juice
Lulu (Lucas)
Pants
Drink
Fix
Alexa
Shoes
Light
Apple
Paci (Sissy Paci/Baba)
Boots
Bucket
Pat
Uncle
Aunt
Treat
Blanket
Snack
Fish
Messy
Hat
Silly
Chair
Sit
Me
No
Mm-hmm
Book
Toys
Outside
Neck(lace)
Leg
Boo-boo
Armpit
Arm
Elbow
Shake
Turn
Paint
Duck
Soap
Towel
Bath
Brush (Hair/Teeth)
More
Dias (10)
Nueve (9)
Ocho (8)
Ses (6)
Cinqo (5)
Quatro (4)
Dos (2)
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Blue
Head
Diaper
Change
Horse
Poof-poof
Hands
Pyramid
Neck
Dress
Wet
Push
Pull
Sammy
Gibby
Paper
House
Church
Josh
Dede
Destiny
Book
Brooke
Scout
Battery
Race
Remote
Tights
Bug
Elmo
Abby
Oscar
Octopus
Isa
Tico
Diego
Alicia
Whoa-whoa (Dog)
Turtle
Truck
Pink
Purple
Cat
Stick
Fish
Bird
Purse
Shoes
Socks
Jacket
Office
Backpack
Map
Hot dog
Nom-noms (food)
Box

And I'm sure there's plenty more! 50% have developed over the last few weeks, I'd say.

144 words!



Small Fry's achievements:
Um... she coos. She manages to poop through an outfit at least once a day. She loves the fan and the sound of the dryer. She hates the car. Sissa's voice pierces through her soul. She smiles at Daddy. She quiets with Mommy. It's getting better... :-)

Tot - 22 Months, Fry - 12 Weeks

I'd rather have no help than bad help.


First, watch this video of a 3 year old being patted down by TSA and violently throwing a fit in her mother's arms.


The cameraman? The father of the 3 year old girl. I bet you any money that after he was recording for 17 seconds, the wife got frustrated with him standing there, holding his cell phone in the air, and said, (through gritted teeth) "So help me, if you don't get over here and help me with this screaming child in the middle of the airport, I will take that cell phone and beat you with it!"

The point is not about TSA and the new regulations (although, yeah... it's a concern). Today's post is about actively participating in parenting. Helping, instead of standing by. Anticipating the needs of someone frazzled and worn thin. Pretending you know what the hell you're doing, even when you don't.

Unfortunately, this is a common argument in this household.

The division of work is heavy on both sides and weighs both of us down to a breaking point by the end of the day. There don't seem to be many solutions other than to cry, yell, and run when you can.

Kidding.

Hopefully soon the babies will even out a little bit and one won't need me quite so much all the time (seriously. Nursing every five minutes. No joke.)

Until then, we'll try to help each other and not let it build up so much! But if I was that mother in the video, I would have lost it right around the time that a-hole pulled out his phone instead of offering his hand.

Tot- 22 Months, Fry - 11 weeks

I just tried to capitalize the number two. That's right. A 2.

My mind is completely gone. Last night I completely lost it over a post on notalwaysright.com and started laughing hysterically until I was crying. I tried to find the post again to post it, but I can't find it right now. I'll summarize. The website is about stupid customers that are "not always right."

Customer asks for help with a cougar problem to a worker at a sporting goods store.

"You should get some bear spray to help detract cougars." - Employee
"Nah, that'll just piss them off. What are those?" - Customer
"Those are machetes, sir." - Employee
"Yeah! That's what we need! Machetes! We'll fight the cougars off with machetes. Forget the bear spray, that'll just piss them off."




HAHAAAAAAA! I laughed so hard, I had tears running down my face, black streaks of mascara on my cheeks, a jiggling baby in my arms, and a completely confused husband. I've lost it. I remember being at this point with Tater Tot. We were sleep deprived nutballs around this time and got really REALLY goofy.


Ok...haha... whew... sigh... breathe, ok. Back to what I was really going to write about. Our day. Life with two under two.

4:45am Wake up with Fry. Nurse. Fall asleep together.

6:45am Wake up with Fry. Nurse. Gently pat her back to sleep with Spud.

7:20am Mommy time! Make coffee, take a bath.

7:40am Wake Spud and he gets ready for work. Do makeup, get dressed.

8:00am Wake Fry and change diaper, outfit.

8:15am Wake Tot. Change, speak to Elmo, get dressed, play, threaten with bodily harm unless she comes with me downstairs for breakfast.

9:00am Sesame Street for Tot in highchair with breakfast. Mama and Fry nurse again.

9:45am AIS. Ass In Seat. Everybody's ass has to be in a seat in the car by this time.

10am Storytime with friends! Sing dance. Holy crap do NOT get lost in the library again! They will not feed you if I leave you here over night.

11am Leave storytime. Are you kidding me? Get in your seat. Mommy is very upset with you. Diaper changes.

11:05am Arrive home with a screaming infant and a running toddler. Nurse. Dora. Goldfish crackers. Peace.

11:06am Juice spills.

11:07am DO NOT HIT SISSY!

12pm Lunch! Sometimes, while still feeding Small Fry. That's a talent.

12:30pm Clean up lunch. Cuddle on couch. Pick up-PICK UP YOUR JUICE! Make a bottle and set it on the stairs, ready for naptime. Clean up toys. Put away. Clean up toys again.

1pm NAPTIME! All is right with the world. Change diapers and put babies to bed. Load dishwasher. Finish laundry. Cuddle up with baby and rest.

1:30pm Nurse. Nurse. Nurse some more. Computer time. Paperwork. All in bed with baby.

2:30pm Cant. Keep. My. Eyes. Open......zzzzzz

4:00pm Fry and I wake up and nurse. Sometime between now and when Daddy comes home, Tot wakes up and starts babbling in her crib. Sometimes she asks for Josh. Or talks to Elmo.

4:30pm Spud officially off work. He gets Tot while Fry and I finish nursing. Change diapers. Up. Awake. Snacks. Juice.

5:00pm Dinner preparations. Either Spud or Mama make dinner - most often Spud.

6:00pm Dinner. PICK UP YOUR JUICE!

6:10pm Time out chair. Crying ensues. Sissy gets upset and needs to nurse again.

6:45pm Clean up. Cuddle time. Play time. Put away laundry. Load dishwasher.

7:30pm BATHTIME! (Paint? Duck? Yes Tot, you can paint the rubber duckie with watercolors while we bathe you. Sure) Daddy's in charge of bath time. I love it. I go get a bottle ready, pick out pj's, assemble her bed (because Spud forgets and leaves a mess after naptime), and cleans the upstairs.

7:45pm Nighttime diaper. Lotion. Vicks. Brush hair. Pajamas. Brush teeth. Medicine. Storybook. Hugs and kisses for Mommy, Daddy, and Sissy.

8pm Lights out for Tot. Bathtime for Fry. Mommy/baby warm bath together.

8:30pm Pjs for the little pee pee.

9pm Nurse.

11pm Nurse. Drift off to sleep.

12am I finally get to sleep. Maybe.

Tot - 21 Months, Fry - 8 Weeks

Oh. My. God.

I am finally taking some time to rest. What a nightmare the past couple weeks have been. Everything was fine until Small Fry was just shy of 4 weeks old. I've stopped and started a blog post about this many times but finally deleted it and started over.

At 27 days old, Small Fry was admitted to the hospital with a fever. We later learned it was viral meningitis. Bacterial is the scary one, not viral. But still scary with a newborn! Four days in the hospital, four days of bills, four days of rectal temperatures every 4 hours, feedings, burpings, Tylenol, antibiotics, swelling, IV's, hospital food, inadequate breastfeeding, pumping, nurses, interruptions, crying, screaming, pinpricks on the heels, heparin, and... a spinal tap.

(I try not to use foul language but...)

Holy fucking crap, they gave my child a mother fucking spinal tap in the emergency room.

And they didn't test it for viral meningitis. They let it go for days and her temperature went up, and down, higher and higher, until it finally peaked at 102.5 on the day the doctor wanted to send her home.

First of all, her pediatrician was an idiot.

Notice I said "was."

He swore at me, told me that it was my fault we were in all this "shit," and that it would be my fault if she got MRSA. Also, he said that the on call nurse might as well have been a janitor with a telephone and a piece of paper.

We changed doctors.




Anyways, all that is in the past now and Small Fry is going on 8 weeks old now! She's a crying mess, eats all the time, and will only sleep with me... but God, I love her little face.

Tater Tot... my bubby. My baby. My first little girl. My little spitfire. The first real love of my life..... Is driving me absolutely crazy. I cannot believe how bad that little ankle-biter is. I could seriously crush her little....

ARRGHHH!!!

No, really, I love her. I do.

She's adjusting to big sisterhood. I get it. But... g**damnit TT - we are not. effing. watching. Boots.

Boots is a monkey. I hate him everyday.




I'm still working on some issues...

20.5 months, 4 weeks

(These are pictures from Delaney's hospital stay in a recovered draft I found on Blogger-Land. I'm not going to add captions, but you can figure it out that Jeff has a glove on his head yourself...)