We're back from our evacuation from Gustav and we arrived to a relatively undamaged house with electricity and a delightfully fresh refrigerator. We learned from a neighbor who stayed that we were only out of power for about 9 hours so the icebox didn't reek of pooky week old hot food.

There was a lot of cleaning up to do, still is, but we were able to fill 9 bags of hefty bags between the two of us. W did his best to help out. Of course he had to stop for a cookie break.




I am glad to be back to being a NOLA Mom and hope it lasts at least through the week.

Big Mouth

Pman is blowin' and growin'! these days. He does all the normal baby things that you read about. W never did. He kind of was on his on schedule. and he never ever ever put anything in his mouth.
I think Pman may be different, ya think?


It's been a learning experience for J and I. We've learned very quickly that we cannot leave anything on the floor and tgat we have to comb all surfaces for small things. He'll put my shoe in his mouth when I'm not looking. It's very frustrating since we could give W anything to play with, a cork, a bottle top, money, whatever, because it absolutely never went in his mouth. So I spend my days figuring out what is interesting enough for Pman to eat.

Brothers

The past week or so the boys have been really enjoying each other. Of course, sweet W has always kind of taken care of Pman but they seem to be truly bonding. Master P laughs incessantly at W's antics and W gets his share of laughter from Pman's silly doings. A most common refrain we hear is "Pman is funny." Which he is. and "doing!" which means Pman is doing something really funny. Tonight it was Master P who had the giggles as W was playing the peekaboo game with him.


I pray every night that J and I have the wisdom and knowledge to know how to encourage this brotherly love. W often helps me soothe P when he is upset. If he doesn't do it automatically I always enlist his help. I hope by encouraging this behavior now it will continue into their manhood. and if they have each other to go to when they are men I will be the happiest mom around.

The greatest post

I just read the greatest post from Nola Notes' blog. It explains so well how only a mother can know exactly what her baby needs. It gave me the goosebumps. Please read it and tell me you agree.

Holy Tantrum

I think school is wearing the LB out. Once we got home I wasn't quite sure I picked up the right kid and I felt like I was on a show about kids who throw violent tantrums. It was crazy- a lot of crying and screaming-yes and no was the answer to everything including whether he wanted to watch Elmo. W never uses Elmo and No in the same sentence. I figured he was so tired that he didn't know what he wanted but he wouldn't willingly go upstairs so I carried his 30 pounds of dead weight to his room and into his bed. He immediately started humming his pacifiers at me.

Wait, What? Who are you?, I thought as I ducked the oncoming fire of pops pops.

I gave him a chance, picked them up and put them back in the bed thinking that if he threw them out again this would be a good chance to just get rid of them altogether. All of this was accompanied by violent, blood curdling screaming and running across the crib to throw himself up onto the other side. I was really scared he was going to hurt himself but there was no soothing him. Now, you have to understand the only other tantrums W has thrown have been mild ones in which he cried non-stop. Other time he would simply go straight on me when it was time to leave or go somewhere. So this craziness was totally out of character. After about 20 minutes of this I heard him say, "Please, Mommy." over and over again. At this point he had calmed down enough to talk to me straight. He was in his crib, pants and socks off, blanket and monkey and bunny rabbit and 5 of his pop pops that he only gets in bed, all on the floor. He asked me politely to turn his light on, which I did and then he asked for every item one by one.
Blue pop pop, please.
Yellow pop pop, please.
Green pop pop, please.
Other blue pop pop, please.
Blanket please.
Monkey, please.
Bunny rabbit, please.
Socks on, please.
Pants on, please.
Back in night night, please.
By this time I was sweating but the tantrum was over and he quietly went to sleep.
Talk about a Holy Tantrum.

Ear PIckin'

This is probably a post of which J wouldn't approve but it's very near and dear to my heart so I have to do it.

I love to pick at ears. My own and my boys especially. W's ears secrete an amazing amount of wax. I don't know why. I treasure the ear picks the doctors have and would do anything to have one. I don't stick anything in their ears except for my pinky fingernail. I know it's dangerous so I don't even use cuetips. Just the occasional wash with the wash rag and my fingernail. W used to not tolerate it too well so I made a game out of it. I pick his ears and say, "EEEEWWWW!" and show him what I got and he then says "EEEEWWWW!" back. The greatest moment though was the other day when I picked a mound of wax out of his ear and he said, "That's a good one!". He's a man after my own heart.

I just hope that he doesn't pass it on to other kids. If your kid knows mine you may want to encourage him to cover his ears when W is around because he seems to enjoy it as much as I do. You never know when he might stick a finger in your child's ear. But all in all, it's good for the community. It takes a village...... to keep ears clean.

Super Room Mom

I returned a phone call about 30 minutes ago.
"Hey Room Mom", she said.
"What?! Are you kidding?"
She wasn't.
Our kids will be in the same class at school this year. We had discussed what we would be willing to do. That was, help out the room moms if they needed help for any holiday parties. The Room Mom position was a slim possibility. ONLY if no one else signed up for it. So C had the last time slot at orientation today. No one else had signed up and yes, she volunteered us to do it.

and let me tell you. I am going to be the best damn Room Mom the fishies have ever seen!

Do you know me? If you do, you know that it will take quite the effort on my part. I'm not the most positive kid on the block. If you're a fan, you probably already know that. Don't get me wrong. I think I am a pretty good mom when it really comes down to it. But a Room Mom? I quit the Jr. League if that says anything. I have no idea what this Room Mom thing entails but I am deciding from this moment forward that we will go down in the history books as the best. You just wait. Before you know it I will have a new blog. Roommom.com It will tell you how you too can find that inner Room Mom in you.

Baby Milestones

I've failed miserably as a mom. I haven't kept up with the LB's milestones as much as I should have. Katrina reeked havoc on my intentions. Not that I didn't document them. Every new tooth, and crawl and step is written somewhere. Either on this blog, in one of the million random notebooks I have around the house or on a piece of paper. It's written down but I don't know necessarily where. I am trying to be better with Master P although I don't even have a baby book for him. Out of the stationery business, out of mind. But I will do it here for now. At the end of 9 months, Pman FINALLY has a tooth-or atleast half of one. AND he finally crawled today on July 29th. (I didn't think it would ever happen especially after W crawled at 6 months) if only 3 steps or whatever you want to call the hand to knee motion. 3-and then he got back on his stomach. He crawled one step early this morning but the 3 steps came this afternoon when W was sleeping. I had a hunch it would happen when big brother was not around to bug the hell out of him. and it did. He was hell bent on getting W's golf club and it obviously warranted a few crawl steps. YAAAAY!!!!! So we are moving along and let this be the official recording.

Tonight was the night that I was going to transform W into a good eater. I am sooo tired of making 2 dinners or just 2 dinners that require preheating the oven and waiting 30 minutes for the pizza or the chicken nuggets. Tonight W was going to eat carrots and noodles. I steamed the carrots while he was napping and tossed them in butter and salt. They tasted like candy. The noodles I tossed in butter, parmesan cheese and salt and they were delicious. and I gave him 4 potato chips for a lagniappe.

He ate the 4 potato chips. and I didn't give in. He wanted more chips. "After you have 1 carrot and 2 bites of noodles."
He wanted yogurt. "After you have 1 carrot and 2 bites of noodles."
He gave up. He wanted to get down. I made him sit at the table until he had 1 carrot and 2 bites of noodles. No dice, mama. I started to cave. I told him he could get down. Frustrated I told him, "I don't care. If you're not hungry you can get down"
5 minutes later. I want a nana. "After you have 1 carrot and 2 bites of noodles."
J came home. I gave him the speel. The broken record technique.
I went running, came back and J went running.
"I want a nana."
"you can have a nana AND yogurt covered raisins....IF you have 1 BITE of carrot." At this point I had shown my weakness. The war was his to win but I still had some fight left in me. I told him I would take a bite of carrot if he would take a bite at the same time. There I sat with a carrot in my mouth trying to get him to take a bite from the other end. Hysterical laughter, from W. I HAD HIM!!!! or so I thought. I crawled around the floor like an idiot chasing after W with a carrot hanging out of my mouth. Thank God J was running. The story goes on but how did it end, you ask?
He had 4 potato chips, a bowl of goldfish and a banana for dinner.

I know I’m not nice. I don’t claim to be although a dream of mine is to be described as “joyful”. I know that’s pretty far fetched too but I’m not rude. I can be, like most people and probably come across as such more often than not but I really do make an effort to meet other moms with kids my same age. In the park, at the pool, at the mall or coffee shop and it seems all I come across lately are rude ones. I know I blogged about this when W was a baby. I thought maybe it was a “new mom with first child syndrome”. I thought I was coming across moms with their 2^nd children so they didn’t really give a crap about us new moms. They thought maybe we were too giddy and excited for their experienced and jaded selves. But being a mom with a second child now I find that I am not like that. I get so excited to come across other moms with babies who are Pmans age. whether they are first timers or not. I ran across one last night. I asked her how old her baby was. Same age as P. Yay! Let’s talk about milestones, I thought! Her baby was clearly walking and moving around where Pman is just barely sitting and not even crawling. She scowled at me and moved on. Whatever. It seems things never change.

Not Suitable for those without a sense of potty humor

I am BM obsessed. I always have been. It runs in the family. My brother and dad are similar in their enjoyment of BM's. Not Mom, though. She thinks it's inappropriate to talk about going to the bathroom and J is very uncomfortable about the whole subject so I'll leave him out of it. Anyway, Master P is constipated. It's awful. I discovered it a few days ago. I had just gotten out of the shower and my hair was wrapped up in a towel. I looked at him and he had this awful look on his face and then he erupted into this horrific scream. I thought that it was because he didn't recognize me with the towel around my head. Wasn't the case. He's constipated and uncomfortable. I tried to get him to drink water but he just spit it out. I need to get some Karo syrup and prune juice before I go ahead with the glycerin suppository. Anyway, all of this constipation talk got me reminiscing.

When we finally ended up in Baton Rouge after Katrina we had to share a house with another couple. S was pregnant and the LB was 1 month old by the time we all moved in together. I found a kindred spirit. She too likes to talk BM's. Can you imagine the conversations between a pregnant lady and one with a new baby who like to talk about BM's? There was never a shortage of conversation. It was fabulous. Now that we both have 2 children we spend countless hours on the phone discussing and analyzing their habits. It's great.

It almost reminded me of college. When I first transferred to U of Alabama my roommates drank a lot of purple Koolaid. One of the first things they told me. It makes your poo green. But you probably already knew that.

And then I started thinking about Uncle RaRa and his potty humor. It was actually Jazz Fest about 10 years ago when he taught me the phrase "dropping the kids off at the pool". The memory couldn't have come at a better time. I used to be as obsessed about Jazz Fest as I am about BM's. I went every day from beginning to end. and never failed, someone always had to drop the kids off at the pool. I know, disgusting. The port-o-lets are hot and steamy and not an ideal place for doing that but when nature calls... Thank goodness Jazz Fest is not my thing anymore. Because although the thought of schlepping around in the hot sun with sweaty people getting my feet dirty (I hate getting my feet dirty. That was the one thing I always dreaded about JF) sounds awful, the thought of having to drop the kids off at the pool at the Fairgrounds during JF is worse.

But don't get me wrong. There is a little piece of me who is dying inside to go to Jazz Fest despite the hot, sweatiness of it all and the despite the $50 ticket. (I remember when it was $12. I think I was in high school. That was a lot for a highschooler who got something like $40 a month in allowance) I would love to bring W just for a morning. He loves music and I know he would dance until the day is done but it's not going to happen. So for all of you Jazz Festers eat a falafel sandwich, a crawfish strudel and crawfish bread for me. Sit in the Gospel tent and sing out loud and don't forget to bring lots of toilet paper.

Picture perfect

The perfect photo. With 2 kids. Does it exist? With W it is always so easy to snap the perfect one because he is such a ham for the camera. Always hammin' it up, I tell ya. But to get one of both of them looking at the camera and smiling is hard. First of all, I think we need a new camera. The delay is so freaking long that I have to snap the actual photo before they even smile and I don't even know if they are going to smile. A friend of mine got the best one of her two kids for her Christmas card. It was adorable. Her secret....put them both on the bed and stand above them. So I tried it and it worked...kind of. It's hard to get Master P to smile if he doesn't have anything at which to smile but at least his expression was pleasant.

Sunday we walked to the park to eat breakfast at the golf house and we stopped at the playground on the way back. By this point W was way tired. You know how they get, all hyper and giddy. I knew when I was taking this picture that this face was one of pure joy, the joy you get right before they can't take it any longer and have a total meltdown. I was right. He threw a tantrum when we were leaving because he didn't want to go and then the whole way home (about 20 minutes) he screamed "I NIGH NIGH!" over and over and over again.

Alleluia!

J's expecting this post. He gave me a big ole I told you so this evening when the LB drank his milk out of a cup. He's been on a milk boycott since last Thursday. He finally broke tonight. J said he would. It was really sad-because he really did just break down. This afternoon he ate 3 bananas, a pbj sandwhich, a piece of string cheese and when we came home from Mimi and Papa's he asked for his milk. So I gave it to him in his cup. He lost it. Poking his lip out, the works. I have to admit that I was one step away from breaking down myself and giving him his bottle back. All I wanted to do was make him feel better. But I didn't and as we were eating dinner, and he was eating some veggie nuggets he reached over and took a big swig of milk. I guess he was thirsty and he needed something to wash down the nuggets and from there he kept swigging away. I heard angels singing.

Can't play a player

W has taken to whining a lot lately but only with me and especially if I am going to leave him and take the baby even if it's only out of the room. This whining, grates on my last frickin' nerve. I am finding myself raising my voice and pouring more wine than I thought I would. Like last night when J was still at work, W was whining at me and BP was screaming at the top of his lungs like he is want to do in the early evening. AAAAHHHHHHHH!

I need to catch him in a photo. He sticks his bottom lip out and and puts his bottom teeth to his top lip and goes at it. I started doing it back to him. Only because I knew he was whining to provoke a response. How do I know? Because YOU CAN'T PLAY A PLAYER. It is the exact same face I made when I was a kid to get what I wanted. I don't remember if it worked for me or not but I tell you one thing. It ain't gonna work for him. No sir. We are nipping this one in the bud-even if it drives me to drink.

Calgon take me away

I had a few after pregnancy firsts on Tuesday. I got the go ahead to excercise again which is kind of bittersweet, you know. I am ready but not looking forward to the pressure of excercising everyday. and I took a scalding hot bath!!! That was the best. As I was soaking in the hot water I thought to myself that a bath is truly the only time that I get that is stress free. Because...when I take a shower I have W standing there watching me with his hands on his knees(not sure how long that is going to be appropriate but..). We don't have locks on the doors-the people before us I guess thought they were being fancy by putting swinging french doors there and even fancier with their open shower that is not supposed to splash water out on the floor (it does splash water by the way if you are in the market for a bathroom reno.) So W is always there. Even when I'm sleeping I always have an ear open for one of the boys waking up. and when I am in my car, running errands alone, there is always that rush to get back nagging at me. I don't think that ever goes away. So the bath is going to be my only alone time. I am sooo glad to have it back.

Are you tired?

I know it's a little too late but for a split second today I thought, what are we doing? Are we ready for another baby? W was up all night last night, coughing, with hives. I held him as I was propped up uncomfortably on pillows. He coughed so hard at one point that he threw up. We all finally went to sleep around 4 and we woke up at 7:15. It's wierd how you don't mind while you are in the moment. It's the time before he wakes up that I am anxious. I just had a feeling it would be one of those nights. So I wasn't sleeping well anyway. But once we were up and I was rocking him the only thing I was worried about was the LB.

While I was up holding him last night I figured I would be about 42 years old before we could possible sleep in again, both J and I. It makes me tired thinking about it. I'm tired.

Then I watched John and Kate plus 8 tonight. They have twins and sextuplets. I can't watch it anymore. I get too depressed for them. I think I'm tired?

But really, I am very happy to be having another baby. I so excited but I can't help but think I will miss the family we have now. The three of us, hanging out, being us, because we're good together. I can only pray that the four of us will be good together, too.

False Alarm

I thought I was having the baby yesterday. It was actually perfect timing because I had a doctor's appointment, too. So I was relatively calm, relieved almost, even though I had nothing organized. When I called J to tell him his was response was,

"It's really not a good time. The tv is being installed today and I have a pretty important hearing tomorrow. But is the camera charged up?....oh, and after you charge the camera could you run to the store and get me something for dinner?"

He was joking, of course, the crazy guy that he is.

W overheard me talking about how I might not come back from the doctor's office and he became hysterical. I felt horrible. It was so sad and it hit home how much I will miss the LB while I'm away.

But the doctor said I was wrong and that I will probably make it until the scheduled day. Damn!

The teacher said W had another good day at school! but that he knows when it's time to go home and waits at the door. I am thankful that he is where he is because they have been very patient and communicative, working through the little bumps in the road. and I can see progress in his development too. He's constructing more with his legos rather than just putting a few together (seems like he's using his imagination more) and chit chatting like nobody's business.

I pulled up as they were coming out and there was my baby walking down the steps all by himself with his bookbag slung over his shoulder. AND he had a smile before it turned into an expression of deep concentration as he went down one step at a time. I got such a wierd feeling. I can't describe it but I'm not ready for him to grow up.

Super Parent, Not.

It was Parents' Night at W's school last night and I must say that I was pretty impressed. The goals of the program are inspiring and well thought out-not just about throwing kids on a playground and letting them go. Even though free play is an important part of their philosophy, it seems that each and every activity is well thought out and there is a point however small to each one. We went through a scavenger hunt so that we could get a feel for our little buddy's day. J was thrilled. Let me tell you. We had to paint our hands and make handprints, build blocks with another couple to teach us about teamwork and making friends and it was a bit awkward but now atleast I know another set of parents in the class. J didn't care about the making friends part and followed me around while I did all the work. I'll have to talk to him about that.

On our way out we noticed an invitation in W's cubby hole. Another mom is having a coffee for all of the parent's in his class. She seems like a super mom-she's nice and sweet and outgoing and makes an effort to meet all of the parents of her kid's classmates. I sometimes wish I were that way but like someone told me, I have other strengths. Ha! It has inspired me to push myself to want to get to know the other parents and make a more concerted effort. I'm not promising anything except that I will do my best.

I had big plans to make Halloween cookies for the class but as the date gets closer those plans are slowly falling by the wayside. I have too many other things to accomplish before the baby gets here, like sitting...and sitting...and sitting. I am scared there won't be another time that I can just...well, sit. On that note, I had a dream last night that I had a baby girl. It was quite vivid. She was so tiny and had a mess of white blond ringlets on top of her head. Wierd. Especially when you consider I have board straight hair, my mom and brother have board straight hair. It wouldn't stay curled even if I slept with a curling iron on my head for days. If this dream comes true my mom will be ecstatic. When J and I got engaged one of her first comments was that he will bring curl to the gene pool. We will just have to wait and see.

In the News: Are Plastic Bottles Toxic?

One more thing to worry about. The use of plastic bottles and the toxic chemicals in them. I got an email through the email grapevine a few weeks ago but shrugged it off because I had already brought this issue to the attention of my pediatrician who said it was news to him.

and you never know about those forwarded emails. They're a dime a dozen, a friend of a friend story.

Then I read about the harmful effects of plastic bottles in Parenting Magazine. It's linked with Cancer, hyperactivity, impaired immune function to name a few problems. I'm not sure what to do. The LB still drinks a bottle of milk when he wakes up and after dinner. I know I'm not supposed to let him have a bottle but I do. Too many kids I know stopped drinking milk once the precious bottle was banned and since I'm dealing with a picky eater, I'm just glad he's getting his milk. So what do I do? Take away the bottles? Right before the new baby arrives who will eventually be drinking from a bottle, which will inevitably make him mad? or buy him new bottles for these last few months that he's drinking from them? Like I said, One more thing to worry about.

Growing pains

I can breathe easier now. We haven't had internet or cable service since last Thursday and we finally were able to get the cable people to fix it today. I wasn't really aware how dependent I was on those services until they went out. It's been a frustrating few days. I'm lucky that the Little Buddy doesn't live and die for Sesame Street or any other show for that matter although he does enjoy a bit of Elmo's World every now and again.

A lot has been going on in our world in between now and then and the first day of W's school starts tomorrow. I have a low grade anxiousness that is living beneath my skin. I know it won't go away until after I pick him up tomorrow. I passed another kid in his class on our way into orientation. He was really old looking and was on the floor throwing a tantrum because he didn't want to leave. I am worried. My baby is not only my baby but he will be the baby of the class. I can't stand the thought of older or younger kids, for that matter, pushing him around. I can't stand the thought of him falling off the playground equipment or of him dying of thirst because they only offer juice at snack time, which he doesn't drink. I can't stand the thought of someone else comforting him if and when he cries or of me not being around when something tickles him so much that he belly laughs until he can't breathe.

I can't stand the thought of him growing up...my baby...because that's what he's doing.