Mental Health Day

You know those days where life is just getting to be a bit much and you just need a little break? You're not sick, but you've just hit a wall and it's a bit challenging to function? Yeah...that's been the last couple of weeks. I've had A LOT going on. Nothing bad, just a lot of things. Did I mention at any point that I had at least 10 pregnant friends who were due during February/March? Well, January arrived, which meant the baby shower invitations started rolling in. That's when I realized--whoa. This is exciting. And hectic. Every weekend I have at least one shower, at least two. And now the babies are starting to be born! Yay! First up was my neighbor/friend Lizzi. Her daughter came three weeks early. Meet Laila Pearl:

I know, right?!?!?! Ridiculous. All 5 lbs of her is adorable.

Then came Kim. Her little guy, Kellan, came a week or so later. (I haven't met him in person yet, so I don't have a picture at this moment.) But I've seen some pictures on the internet, and let me tell you: my friends make beautiful babies.

This week was a big one. My bestie Erin texted me a couple of days ago and said she was being induced. Erin was one of my maids of honor. She was there for almost my entire labor with Ben. I mean, she's a big deal. So as soon as I could I headed to the hospital. I wasn't able to be there for the actual birthing, but I got to be with her for the first leg of labor, and I've been able to spend a good bit of time with her after his arrival. Oh yes, here is Mr. Cannon Jeffrey:

Sigh.

But it hasn't all just been baby showers and baby birthings. There have been birthday parties, sick children, mid-trimester, and so much busy-ness that my head started spinning. And because I'm an introvert who needs alone time to recharge my batteries, my batteries were dead. And once the adrenaline of it all subsided, it was all I could do to stay standing. So I called in a sub for the next day and dreamed of its arrival.

The universe tried very hard to ruin it at first. But I persevered, and with some coffee (and my mom's generous help) I was able to spend most of my day doing many of my favorite things all by myself.

After dropping off the kiddos, I went home and finished crocheting Emma's hat while I watched Cougar Town.

Then I went to visit Erin and Cannon.

Then I went to Old Navy to spend the gift card that I got for Christmas (and use my super cash--double win!)

Then I whipped up a little holder for my new crochet hooks so they won't keep getting lost. (I also made a few other things.)

My mom brought Emma home for her nap then went to see Erin. During Emma's nap I watched 1 1/2 episodes of Dawson's Creek and started knitting the second piece of a pair of legwarmers for Emma.

 

When Emma woke up we cuddled and watched Baby Einstein.

My mom came home with Benjamin and we cuddled too.

Then the hubs came home and completed my happiness.

So that was my day. In the beginning I was cranky and tired and grumpy and mean and on the verge of tears. And now I'm happy and healthy and ready to interact with humans again. :)

4.5

Tomorrow Benjamin will be 4 1/2 years old. The other day he said that soon Emma would be two, and when Emma is two he will be five. Which is true. Which is crazy. I will have a five-year-old. Whoa.

Anyway, about this little guy who still has six months ago before he is officially OLD.

I'd heard about the terrible twos. I knew about adolescence. I was not prepared for the Whining Fours. Oh my gosh the whining. And arguing. And in this house it's epic, because this little man has a vocabulary that matches a high-schooler (and the comprehension to go with it) and a sense of logic that would put a lawyer to shame. We have had to put down serious boundaries and endure some pretty dramatic tantrums in order to firmly establish who's boss around here. And yes, the words "because I said so" get tossed around sometimes. Because sometimes I find myself five minutes deep in a conversation about why exactly he needs to put his legos away before bathtime, and then I realize that I'm his mom and you seriously just need to put the friggin' legos away because I said so.

Okay, there is a bit of that paragraph that may have been the result of me coming out of the shower at 5:30 this morning to find him on the floor of the living room playing with his legos, and I might be kind of cranky about it.

Speaking of legos, they have taken over our house. And that is real, because most of them are Star Wars legos, so the take-over was forced. I actually love legos. I like them because they are creative and they require a great deal of important things like patience, ingenuity, fine motor skills, and imagination. Except that I hate them because a) I have a one-year-old; b) there is no pain like a lego in your foot; c) oh my gosh, put them the frick away so they are not all over the house. But seriously, he loves them, and I really do think they're great. It's much better than TV and video games and cocaine. He has a lot because he got several sets for Christmas from various family members. And because the Star Wars sets are for eight-year-olds, Matt has assembled a lot of the larger models. Ben is actually pretty good at doing a lot of it himself. But God help you if you touch them without permission, or worse, accidentally break a piece off.

If you manage to pry him away from his Legos, you can get him to do a few other things. He still enjoys books and riding his bike and playing with light sabers and other manly activities. Like playing with his baby sister's princess castle. Speaking of his sister, he loooooooooooves her. Way more than she loves him. But that's not really her fault--he's a sweet little love bug, and she's a fiery and independent gal. Ben loves preschool and is very good at letters and counting (except for the number 15) and even reading a little. He likes waffles and yogurt for breakfast and PB&J for lunch, but he doesn't like dinner. And of course, there's his wit. He cracks me up every 20 minutes with some comment or strange conversation.  Yesterday we took Emma to the doctor, and as we were leaving he asked if we were going to go to the pharmacy to get Emma's medicine. I told him she didn't need medicine, which prompted a lengthy conversation about viruses and bacteria and antibiotics. Try explaining those things to a four-year-old. I have learned, though, to not try and simplify things for his young mind. I do much better, and he understands much better, when I just explain things normally. Otherwise he'll catch me. When it comes to science he's smarter than me. True story.

So that's our B.

Worker Bee

Since I'm home today, I figured I'd be productive. So while Emma emptied the bookcase, I spent some time doing a much-needed update on my etsy site. I added some new pictures, updated styles and prints and descriptions, added a couple of non-diaper items (hats! burp cloths!), etc. I have a few more non-diaper items that I will be adding in the coming weeks (towels! nursery decor! clothing!). It's a bit of a work-in-progress, so if you don't see anything you like come back in a week or two and see what's new.

Thank you, thank you, thank you again to all of you who have ordered things, asked me to do random projects, told your friends, and just encouraged me.

Okay, back to playing with Miss E. It's princess tea party time.

http://www.etsy.com/shop/LittleBugBabyThings

Croup: A Dramatization

First off, I apologize that this particular post is my first after a long break. How lame. But I'm home with a sick baby, so I have some time on my hands. And humorous things were happening in my head, so I figured I'd better carpe that diem before it got lost in the haze of daily life and the Dawson's Creek marathon that is sure to happen today.

Emma has croup. Again. Some of you may not be familiar with this particular Childhood Illness. So allow me to describe it to you in the form of a short story.

Your young child has a cold. A simple head cold. There is congestion, some crankiness, and a great deal of green crap oozing out of her nose. So you settle in for a couple of days at home. After a couple of days she has a bad night. She wakes up crying a lot because she's having trouble breathing through the thick layer of crusted snot that has sealed her nose shut. You give her Tylenol. Switch the humidifier from low to high. Rub on another round of eucalyptus chest rub. Give her some snuggles and put her back to bed. She keeps waking up crying. You cave and bring her into bed with you. She passes out on your pillow. The entire pillow. There's nowhere left for you to sleep, but hey--your baby's sick. You make sacrifices. After a few hours, she seems to be sleeping and breathing better. You think you might die from sleep deprivation. So you carefully move her to her crib. No dice. She wants none of it. So you bring her back to your bed, resigned to a sleepless night for yourself, but at least she'll sleep. She bounces up and down on her back. She sticks her finger up your nose and says, "Mommy nose," then laughs. She sticks her finger in your eye and says, "Mommy eye," then laughs. She blows raspberries on your face. She kicks your stomach and laughs. You remember why this particular child doesn't sleep in your bed. Clearly she feels alright, so you take her back to her crib. She cries. You feel bad and you don't want her to get all congested again, so you bring her back to your bed. Lather, rinse, repeat until the alarm goes off at 5:00. The following night you put her in her own crib at bedtime, all kinds of hopeful. She goes to sleep. You eventually go to sleep. And then a seal breaks into your house and starts barking! Wait, no, it's not a seal. It's your kid. You shoot straight up in bed. You sigh and head for the bathroom to start the routine. You're a little groggy, so your fight with the Tylenol bottle escalates. At some point in the search for the chest rub the cough and cry stop, and she seems to be back asleep. You don't want to wake her if she's actually sleeping. After all, it will probably be a very long night. And you just moved the rocking chair into your classroom, so you need some time to figure out a new Comfort Station. You check to make sure she's still breathing (she is), then go back to bed. Then the monologue starts. "Most of the time croup is harmless. It's just a variant of the common cold that includes a scary-sounding cough. So she's probably fine. It sounds worse than it is. But sometimes they stop breathing. Rarely, but still. I should check. No, I can't keep getting up to check. She's fine. But what if she's not? I'm sure she is. There's no use getting all worked up and scared. But sometimes it really is serious. She could stop breathing and I wouldn't even know. I should get her. She should sleep in our bed. But she never sleeps well in our bed. She'd sleep much better in her own bed. She's not going to stop breathing, so I should just let her sleep in her own bed. But she might stop breathing, and if she's in her own bed, I won't hear it, so I should just bring her in here so I can hear her breathing. But she won't get any sleep..." And on and on and on forever and ever and ever. Sometimes the night is long because the cough keeps happening and you spend most of the night in the rocking chair or on the couch or on the bathroom floor, running hot and steamy water, suctioning her nose, applying the chest rub, keeping track of the time and administering Tylenol for the sore throat and headache, rubbing her back and calming her back to sleep each time the cough starts back up. Sometimes the night is long because the cough doesn't come back, but you wake up every 30 minutes, jump out of bed, and run in to check that she's still breathing. When the alarm goes off at 5:00 you have to decide if you're going to stay home with her. It's a gamble--she might be feeling better after a good night's sleep, so it could be a waste of a sub. But she might still feel awful, and waiting until she wakes up at 7 to call the sub makes them mad. You realize in the sleep-deprived fog that it's a no-brainer. Obviously you stay home with her.

Croup is stupid.

But it's not all bad. Because your spirited and independent little girl only cuddles with you when she's sick. So there's that. And she takes two naps a day, during which time you can burn through several episodes of Dawson's Creek.

No one should be this cute with a snot bubble coming out of her nose. But here she is.