Doing their thing

I bothered Simon with the camera a bunch this weekend...

He wanted us to paint these little pumpkins so I got him set up and immediately got out my camera. This wasn't what he had in mind. He said, "stop bothering me and go paint your pumpkin, would ya?" Ha. I obliged...after it was well documented of course.

It took a LONG time to dry.

Just when I think he's getting so big, I get a picture of his chubby little hand and I'm reminded that he's still just a little guy.

He was very annoyed with the camera and me at this point, but trying his best to ignore us.

Grandma Berta got him a trident and an angry birds hat today. I thought the combination was pretty cute and kind of reminded me of a time when he looked silly every single day. He was in costume for probably over a year of his life and I do miss those days. This took me back a little bit...

I walked downstairs and into the kitchen to see this. Who wouldn't reach for their camera?

He was trying to block me from taking his picture. Too bad for him, I got one that I find pretty cool :)

He really wanted to wear that trident through his belt loops...

He had to dismount the horse to make it happen.

And let's not forget Cecie. She has two favorite spots in the house...the coffee table and the tv stand. I prefer the empty coffee table of course, but she has equal love for the old tv stand that is literally falling apart. One of the doors always comes off and she makes sure to do this multiple times a day along with monkeying with all the dvds and various tv/internet boxes...

On her way to trouble.

Being naughty.

Looking for fallen objects.

And there's the door...on the ground where she likes it.

And here's Simon charging me with the trident and my foot stopping him. Like I said, he is really sick of the camera. He looks scary, but I promise we were having fun :)

Zombies

Zombies are keeping me up at night. I can't get away from them and keep going back for more; it's affecting my bedtime and therefore my mood. I'm tired. Two more episodes of The Walking Dead left to watch and we can go back to our normal, zombie-free lives again. I need 8 hours and this damn show is so addicting that we are staying up late to watch "just one more episode."

Meanwhile, Cecie doesn't really care what time we went to bed at and she's been in a mood herself lately. My lack of sleep and her lack of smiles has been quite the joyride. She's in a phase where she is only really happy doing two things - being in my arms and exploring the house with no restrictions. For the most part I can manage; I can do a lot with her in a baby carrier, otherwise I just try to make the most of nap time. The thing is, that hair of hers is getting bigger by the day and I have make sure to tend to it regularly. It's a teensy bit of a daunting task because I can't exactly hold her or let her roam free while trying to do her hair. Oh, and remember how I'm an inexperienced vanilla woman trying to do chocolate hair? Like I said. Daunting.

I decided today had to be a hair day, though, bad moods or not. It got ugly in our kitchen a couple of times, but we both survived unscathed thanks to the entertainment value in a comb, a water bottle, plastic bowls, a kitchen towel, a tiny pumpkin and many cheerios. Her hair has a new style that will hopefully last a few days (although none seem to last through a nap, unfortunately) and I even got some pictures while she was roaming free...aka content :)

Flip, lurch, flutter

Every day I get the mail expecting to find several items that will forever go unexamined. Obama is our hero. Wait...no, Obama is evil. Wait...Romney is evil. I mean our hero. Need a new credit card? Well look no further than your mailbox. Every. Single. Day. You get the idea (and live it at your address, I'm sure).

So while these items are certainly keeping the recycling industry alive and well, the mail these days doesn't usually do much for me personally. Every so often I'm taken by surprise, though. There's something important amidst the waste and I can't get back to my house fast enough to examine its contents. It comes from an address I now know by heart, and without fail, when I see that sticker in the top left corner my heart falls into my stomach and my mind races.

I'm always left a little confused, unsure how to feel. I'm usually surprised by what I find, usually pleasantly so, but sometimes I find myself uneasy in a way I can't quite put my finger on. I felt this way when it was a card addressed to my daughter, from Mommy, yet it wasn't from me. I felt this way when the words, "when can I see her?" were written. I feel this way now, looking at a book.

It's just a book.
But attached to the book is a cd.
And on the cd is a recording.
It's the voice of her birth mother.
Just reading the book.

It's very sweet. Honest.

Yet here I sit feeling uneasy, trying to figure out exactly why. I emailed a fellow adoptive mom about it and she said she wished she would get something from her son's birth mom because she hasn't gotten a thing. The grass is always greener, right?

Bryan reminded me yesterday that this is what we signed on for - murkiness. Murky it is, but luckily it's the kind of murkiness that you can ignore right along with the junk mail until the next envelope with E's name on it shows up. Then everything is a bit puzzling for a day or two and the cycle resumes.

So for now, I'm going to store the book with the rest of the items sent from E and try to be thankful that we have them to give to C one day. I'm going to imagine that E sent this purely out of love or for her own benign reasons that do not signify a lack of acceptance, understanding or respect for my role as Cecilia's mother.

Time to move on and idly wait for the next envelope...

You're sliding into first & you feel a little burst...

Diarrhea.

I've seen a lot of diarrhea 'round these parts this week. A lot contained to diapers, but also a lot in jammies, pant legs, onesies and on the backs of baby knees. Poop isn't supposed to be at the back of anyone's knees. Ever. But there I've been, wiping juicy poo off the backs of Cecie's knees over and over again. In case you couldn't visualize it properly, I thought about taking a picture but then figured poo would be on the backs of her knees and on the front of my camera so I nixed that idea.

I know, I know...you're disappointed.

Okay, so I didn't really think about photographing my baby's diarrhea until I just wrote it, but it's a funny thought. If you like poop jokes, that is. Which I do. (Sorry Raina.)

ANYWAY...

C is upstairs in her crib. Just a-crying away. Not sleeping. Probably with shit down to her ankles. A girl can hope, right?

So what do you do when your kid gets the trots? How long do you wait to call the doctor? Do you wait for a call back or just make an appointment? Do you let her cry herself to sleep knowing she desperately needs to nap or do let her fight sleep in your arms for (what would feel like an) eternity because her tummy probably doesn't feel great?

These questions kind of have me thinking because the truth is, while I might wonder what you would do in my situation, your answer probably won't influence me too much one way or the other. No matter what, I'm going to do what I think is right for my daughter even if you might disagree.

I saw an article today called "10 Great Ways to be an Unhappy Mom." One of the points was to compare yourself to other mothers (if you want to be unhappy that is). I think we all do this. I know I do, but at the same time I try to do what feels right as Simon and Cecie's mother. I'll ask what other moms do and get inspired for sure, but when it boils down to it I have to live with my choices and I need to be happy with them.

So. Here are some things that I do and don't do around here. I'm not perfect (whatever that is), but I'm comfortable with it. It works for us. I wonder what your list would look like, but mostly I hope you are happy with your very own list however it looks.

{Most of these will be about Simon, because he is the one that requires more actual parenting outside of what to do when the sharts just won't quit.}

I do let Simon go hog wild with glue and scissors.
I don't do organized craft projects with him.
I do let him put his face in front of a screen for 90 minutes a day.
I don't care when he does it.
I do give him a bath twice a week or so. 
I don't do this on a schedule. He might miss a day and I'd have no idea.
I don't make him clean his toy room every day.
I do make him pick up his costumes and stuffed animals when I decide it's time to clean up.
I don't let him dictate what I make for dinner.
I do make him try everything on his plate. It IS a daily battle.
I don't play with him every single time he asks.
I do play with him.
I don't read 14 books a day to him.
I do read to him every day.
I don't tolerate hitting, kicking, etc.
I do tolerate his smart ass mouth because I think it's funny and I like a kid with spunk.
I don't tolerate him being disrespectful.
I do realize this is a fine line.
I do give him time outs or breaks.
I don't set a timer for them.
I don't get up with him in the morning.
I do tuck him in at night. Unless Bryan does it, which I do not complain about.
I do think "shut the f*#% up" in my head when they won't shut the f*#% up.
I don't tell them to shut the f*#% up out loud.
I do get short with Simon when Cecie is demanding my attention.
I don't feel great about that one. 
I do realize raising kids is a work in progress...

I'm sure I could go on and on, but for now this is all I've got. Cecie did eventually fall asleep and Simon gets off the bus in 20 minutes, so I should probably hunker down and clean something or get ready for date night. Louis CK here we come! :)

Make like a tree...(get it?)

Yesterday Cecilia took a nap at an unusual time, which meant a little bit of extra time with just Simon before school. He really wanted to play outside and since there are a trillion leaves on the ground, I took the opportunity to catch him in action with the nice fall backdrop. Over the weekend Bryan would quite literally launch Simon into a giant leaf pile and he would get swallowed up whole, completely disappearing until we saved him. I'll leave the body launching fun to Daddy, though. When it's just Simon and me, his fun with leaves will have to be of the boring old running and throwing variety.

Eventually playing in the leaves (sans body launching) did get old, so he moved on to the swing set. The swing has been conspicuously missing for months, but I think Simon prefers it this way as he has "vines" to swing on like his old pal Diego...

In the event Simon really wants to feel like he's floating, we still have the baby swing which he is not not too proud to ride...

I want to share one final picture. Last week Simon heard Cecilia talking in her crib and he wanted to "go see what she was up to in there." Our room connects to hers with a door, and this was the view from my bed that morning. Pretty damn adorable way to start the day :)

Nap Wars and Lost Voices

This weekend I went to the Lake Geneva area with some friends, and you want to know what the best part was? Knowing that whether Cecilia napped or not was someone else's problem (sorry, Bryan). By about noon on Sunday, however, it was my problem once again. As I sit here and type, it continues to be my problem and I can't help but wonder when this charade will be over and we'll be onto the next stage.

When Simon first started school she was napping almost the whole time he was gone. She went down easy and for long stretches - it was amazing. She learned to stand shortly thereafter and it has ruined my life (and this is only a slight dramatization).

Her game is to lay quietly for a few minutes so I'm fooled into believing she's asleep, then I get absorbed into something and BAM she's standing there screaming. I go up, nuk her, lay her down and leave. Then they cycle repeats. Over and over. And over. Yesterday this went on for an hour and a half and she finally did sleep for about 30 minutes. Pathetic.

Right now it sounds as though she is asleep; I'm telling myself she actually is and I'm averting my eyes from the video monitor. Maybe if I whine enough she will stay asleep? I'm currently testing that theory and it seems to be working.

This was taken a month or two ago, but I wanted to give you a glimpse into what I look at (ehem, obsess over) every day :)

In other news, Simon lost his voice a bit. He went through a voice change when he was just over three and now he seems to have gone through another change, although this time I'm assuming (hoping) it's just from having a cold or is a very mild case of laryngitis and nothing more serious. With his voice teetering in and out like that, I just kept thinking about what a gift it is to hear what is going on in his little brain every day....

Dinosaurs and braided hair. Not related.

After hiding under the table so as not to be photographed, Simon got over it and resumed his play. I love how kids can take something tiny (in this case, a dinosaur or two) and stay entertained. What a gift. When do we lose this? Maybe some people don't, but I know I did.

This week I decided to try my hand at braiding Cecilia's hair. I don't know how to braid cornrow style, but I got creative and kind of gave the illusion of cornrows. I also got an updated "before" picture...I cannot believe this head of hair!

I also wanted to share these pics, just because :)