Uff

I just had a knock down drag out bedtime. The kind that keeps your younger child awake, where you actually work up a bit of a sweat trying to get pjs on, where you feel far more spent than you should at 8pm and where you want a stiff drink immediate afterward. Make that two. I can't really blame WA, he is on the long road of giving up his daily nap, even though he's not nearly ready to do so. Today he was particularly exhausted and although we hustled through dinner and read only two books, he was a complete meltdownpuddlemess. The type of mess where you can't really get mad or frustrated because he's just so out of sorts. With several deep breaths and a calm consistent voice we managed to make it through. He's filthy dirty, has snots in his nose, magic marker lines up his arms and his breath stinks...but he's sleeping. And right now, that's all that counts.

Hipster in training?

Yesterday WA picked out his very own pair of sunglasses. Why is this special? Because he actually picked them. I'm surprised, given the choices, that he wanted ones so very....hip. Neither my husband nor I are anywhere near as hip as these shades. So where is his budding sense of hipness coming from? I have no idea. But I know my cousin in SF, who is very cool and has a mini-hipster of her own, would be proud.

Here are a few shots from a photo session this morning as WA was rapping with his new shades on...


Peace Yo



IA thinks: 'What a poser'



IA thinks: 'Ok, yeah, I can dig it'

Second kid gets gipped (part 1)

As a second child myself, I've decided to start documenting the ways in which I see my own numero dos get the short end of the stick. It's not at all intentional and now I'm starting to understand that it's just inevitable. Second kids get many, many benefits that first children don't (ex: attention from a loving older sib, great hand me downs...though this will soon turn in to a negative...and mellower parents) but they also kind of get the shaft too. Here's how it's playing out for IA (as compared to WA at her age).

Sleep: yeah, sleep. Or maybe I should say lack of it. IA is our on-the-go kid. She conforms to WA's schedule and is on the move most weekends. Naps are often in the car and sometimes she gets a special wake up call, in the form of her brother busting through the door.

Books: This is the one I feel worst about. WA is such a lover of books and I think it comes, in part, from his lifelong immersion. IA gets none of that. I'm lucky if I can sneak in a book or two on the weekend and POSSIBLY once or twice before school during the week. I hate this about our schedules. I'm hoping that as she gets a bit older and her bedtime gets a bit later, that books will incorporate themselves in to the routine on a regular basis.

Playing: Not only is quite playtime with IA a rarity, but when she does play it's often at the side of her 3 year old brother. This co-ed play includes toy stealing, full body tackles and rambunctious tomfoolery. I hope she's learning something somewhere in all of that!

T.V.: WA didn't watch television until he was 18 mos old. We made a conscious effort to make this so, figuring that play time (and books, see above) were the better way to go. Poor IA gets exposed on a regular basis. Not that we plop her in front of the T.V. on purpose, but we often find it necessary to have both kids in the same place at the same time. She gets distracted by it when WA is watching his shows (Mama Mirabelle's Home Movies and Word World being two of his current favorites. Peep and the Big Wide World being his all time favorite). And since we often need them in the same place at the same time, IA has a relationship with television that WA never had. I guess one positive thing is that she loves to dance when my husband has on Palladium (a channel that plays all these great live rock concerts). Apparently today she was busting a move to a DMB show. That's my girl!

Here's my theory...this second child syndrome weighs on me much more than it does her...at least for now. So I'm gonna keep trying my best and hope she doesn't hate me in 15 years:).

The abyss

One of the coolest things I find about this whole blogging experience is the fact that you never really know who is on the other end. It's such an abstract thing. Anyone, and I mean anyone, could run across your ramblings and either like or dislike what you're doing. I certainly know my family reads this, as do some of my friends. Even so I was kind of surprised, when on Saturday, a friend of mine made a comment about one of my posts. I'm not exactly sure why this surprised me. She is a great person, kind and caring, one of those people you instantly like and completely lives up to expectations. So it makes sense that she would read this, especially since her golden haired cutie is one of WA's best buddies. I guess I just didn't think people (other than those related by blood or marriage) would actually enjoy this. That skepticism topped off with the scarcity of comments (thanks to AB, my blogging mentor, for holding down the fort on that front!) and it caught me off guard. Not that I mind, not at all. I hope people get a smile or two out of some of the things I've documented and most importantly, I hope people realize what great kids I have (my musings certainly don't do them justice).

Well whoever-you-are, I hope you keep on reading and enjoying! Feel free to give me a shout out when so inspired and I'll continue my never ending battle against the run-on sentence.

Nice to see you ladies

Last night I dreamt about two women who are no longer really in my life. One was my mother and the other was my closest friend growing up.

I love dreaming about my Mom. It's really the only way that she feels "real" to me now. Seeing her in 3-D, even if it is just for a few short unconscious moments, is as good as it gets these days. I like looking at her pictures, thinking of fond memories and seeing glimpses of her in my kids (and me too, gulp!), but there's something about those dreams that makes me feel extra connected to her. That might sound like bs to some people, but I, for one, will take it. I hope she continues to make these wonderful guest appearances anytime my subconscious so desires.

I also dreamt about one of my closest friends growing up, who for reasons I'm still not ultimately clear on, kind of stopped talking to me. Maybe I was a crappy friend? Maybe I offended her? Maybe she's got her own thing going and I don't belong anymore? Just not sure. This situation makes me really sad when I think about it because I will always love her like a sister and I did think that we would be close our whole lives, but I guess that's the way it works sometimes.

Anyway, it was nice to be able to say hi to these two ladies, if only in my dreams...

Hello, WNBA?

Apparently I birthed your future super star.

IA went to the doctor today and here are her stats...

97% Height
90% Weight

At 9 months, she is the average height of a 15 month old. Clearly she gets her build from the Slovak side of the family! Tall, chunky and adorable:).

Terrible 3s?

A friend of mine, whose oldest daughter is in WA's class, recently posted a FB item about the difficulty she was having dealing with her three year old daughter. Serenity now! As I read it, I nodded and sent silent sympathy her way. Not only did this give me a sense of deja vu (as my brother and sister-in-law experienced the same thing with my niece) but I could also really relate, because we've just emerged from...or better yet, are "emerging from"...WA's own version of a horror show. The twos were really tough with WA and now that he is three, things seem to be smoothing out. That's not to say that he still doesn't throw a fit while leaving the playground or use selective hearing or get upset when you need to take something away from him (as a result of said selective hearing), but all-in-all both my hubby and I are finding him much easier to deal with.

So, my question is this...are the terrible twos vs. the traumatic threes really a matter of gender?