Medela has a voice

So for years, we've joked that my breast pump has a voice. My Medela motor makes a whirring and thumping sound that vaguely sounds like the word "whacko" chanted over and over. I have sometimes felt whacko over the 18 months I've pumped (13 for Natalie and the past five for Z) for my kids, both for buying a $250 pump and for going to extremes to make sure my kids have the immunity-building milk only my body can provide. What extremes, you ask? How about pumping every morning after nursing my son so that his increasing need can be matched by my dwindling supply. Or ducking out of an important meeting so that I can pump and stay on his nursing schedule for when we reunite at the end of the work day. But it's all worth it.

The other day, Natalie was in the room while I was pumping. I didn't think anything of it when she started chanting, "Wagon! Wagon!" at me. She frequently comes up with things out of left field, so I was prepared for whatever crazy and/or imaginative scenario her 2.5 year old mind was conjuring. But when I asked her what she was talking about, she gestured to the pump and said, "It's talking!"

Where we heard "whacko", she heard "wagon". Oh, what a beautiful, sweet little mind.

My daughter the comedienne

The things that come out of this girl's mouth ASTOUND us on a daily basis. Her usage and understanding of high-level vocabulary and advanced sentence structure aside, sometimes she's just hilarious. A few of her bon mots as of late...

January 25, before bed:

Me: "Natalie, you need to finish that cereal so we can brush your teeth." (in a cup she spied after her bath and HAD to have because she's going through some kind of lumberjack growth spurt)
Natalie: (smiles wanly and gives me a mischievous look while raising a single piece of cereal as slowly as possible to her lips)
Me: "I'm waiting." (I lean in to take the cup)

Natalie: (as she palms my forehead) "You need to get away your face from me."

January 23, right after Grandma's birthday dinner:

Keith: "Shhhhh! Natalie--let's play the Quiet Game."
Natalie: "Okay."
(quiet ensues for about 45 seconds)

Natalie: (whispering) "I wanna play the Loud Game."

January 16, while Daddy was making dinner:

Keith: "I'm going to make some yummy oatmeal this morning."
Natalie: "But I want eggs and sausage."
Keith: "Sometimes we eat healthier foods like oatmeal, so that's what I'm making."

Natalie: "That's a waste of time."

January 23, while driving home from Nana's house in San Diego:

Natalie: "It's very curious. Yes, curious."
Me: "What's curious?"

Natalie: "No. You do not say that word. I say that word. Don't talk to me. I'm talking to myself."

January 13, at home:

Natalie decided which Disney characters we all were tonight. Here's the break-down--
Natalie: Rapunzel
Mommy (Me): Aurora (Sleeping Beauty's real name)
Zachary: Prince Phillip

Daddy (Keith): Nemo

January 9, during one of Zach's naps:

Natalie: "My brother is crying! I need to go tend to him!"

January 8, on a nice Sunday morning:

Keith: "Natalie, what are you doing?"
Natalie: "Taking off my pants."
Keith: "I can see that, but why?"
Natalie: "Because it's not cold in here anymore."

January 4, during a quiet moment at home:

Me: "Natalie, we shouldn't be watching movies with Z-man because he's a baby and he really shouldn't be watching TV."
Natalie: "Okay, then we'll read some books. (pulls books from the shelf) These books. That's my plan. We have to be real quiet and we can't get up. Okaaaayyy?"

Two steps forward, one step back?

We had a great night on Friday, only to be stymied on Saturday. Sigh. Keith and I are feeling very mystified and discouraged after being awoken all night last night by a very frustrated baby. We tried everything (which is likely part of the problem), but nothing worked. Well, tonight is another night.

And in other unpleasant baby matters...

I remember a time when I could wear something for a short time--say, two hours--and then declare it "mostly clean", hang it up, and wear it again. I don't know when I'll ever see that time again, thanks to my projectile spitter-upper, Zachary.

Case in point:

(The liquid on the sweater is a voluminous amount of spit-up/breast-milk and the thing around my waist is a fab invention called the My Brest Friend. Every nursing mother should have one.)

Paci Wars

Who would have thought that something called a "pacifier" would be such a bone of contention in our house? Its very name connotes tranquility, harmony, QUIET. And yet, that has not been our experience...with either child. Until Natalie was about seven months old, we had to enter her room countless times during the night to replace the pacifier (or foof, as we came to call it). When she was finally old enough, we scattered three pacis in her crib for her to seek and find when she lost one. They were so treasured to her that she blew off the usual "lovies" like stuffed animals or a favorite blankie for foofs. She would even sleep with one in her mouth and one in each hand, like a little statue of Ganesh. We were smart, only allowing her to have her foofs at bedtime and nap times, but it was a bit rough-going to suggest that she wouldn't have her BFFs forever.

Fortunately, I read about a great idea: the "Foof Fairy" came and traded Natalie's pacifers for a bunch of really great gifts, including a Tinker Bell costume. While it was a bit of a rough transition, we were able to make it without too much fanfare or too many tears. I believe that's because we A) waited until after Zach was born to take them away, B) did it in a fun, playful way in which Natalie was excited to participate, and C) waited until Natalie was old enough to understand the permanence of the words gone, done, finito.

But now, we're facing an even dicier proposition. Sleep is more important to us now than ever, especially with my part-time work schedule. I need to be "on" during those days, for sure, but when I'm home with the kids, I also have to be patient and have the energy necessary for playing with a toddler and caring for an infant. Keith is running a school. It's definitely crucial for him to have mental acuity when he's at work. Zach didn't get this memo. He is a pretty good sleeper from about 7:00 P.M.-1:00 A.M. Then, the witching hours appear during which Z needs us to replace the foof, rock/bounce/shush him back down, or just stand with a quizzical look while he coos at us, totally awake at 3 A.M. We really hate that last one.

If you read what the sleep experts say, all humans have "partial awakenings" during the night. It's just that adults are used to them and can easily revert to that sleeping state, whereas babies are not accustomed to this yet. They need practice. And if you've given them a sleep crutch (such as a pacifier), they'll expect it every time they awaken. Joy. But our boy doesn't just stop there. When he awakens, we need superpowers to get him back down. Paci: check. Still crying/fussing. White noise: check. Still thrashing about like a tiny little guy on a huge island. Last resort swaddle: check. Now freaking out at being confined. At 2 A.M., we can't win. My husband and I have a strong suspicion that if the foof were absent, the partial awakenings wouldn't be so jarring.

Enter the "gentle removal program" from Elizabeth Pantley, an attachment theory researcher who wrote The No-Cry Sleep Solution. Pantley suggests that you gently remove the paci as soon as your child's suck begins to wane. In her words, this may take 2-10 or MORE tries. What fun! We've started it, but it's slow-going. I finally chucked the paci altogether last night and used white noise on high to soothe him while he fell asleep (still somewhat fearful that I'm going to blow out his eardrums, but whatever works wins). Using this method, he stays down for quite a few hours, but that 2 A.M. still rolls around and it's still heinous.

Keep calm and carry on, right?

Crock-Pot recipes are better the next day

DAMN are they better. Yum.

Oh, and Keith made roasted brussels sprouts to compliment my meal. They were phenomenal, too. Who would have thought that I liked brussels sprouts? That's a weird name for a food.

Brussels sprouts. Strange name, tasty vegetable.

Mel is cooking?

Yup. I intend to.

I found a recipe that looks easy enough, but it does require me to brown the entire roast before putting it in the Crock-Pot. I'm nervous about that, but a quick Google search calmed me. Doesn't look too tough. And I really REALLY like the fact that there are few ingredients. The fewer, the better in my book.

3 Envelope Roast recipe

Since I'm technically not working today, but we've already paid for the usual three days of child care, I'm able to do some things around the house. This is unusual without a toddler cruising around my feet or a baby asking for food/a diaper change/to be entertained. I'm pretty good at doing household chores with them around, but cooking is an entirely different matter. For some odd reason, I have an issue with the timing of recipes, even when I'm not being called off-task by my children. So with no kids, I really have no excuse. I'm totally going for it. Wish me luck.

So today, I'm thankful for my Crock-Pot. Thanks, Big Oven. I hope I can do you justice.

New Year's Resolution: Gratitude

So I haven't written in a really long time, probably because I have a lot going on. Having a toddler and a new baby in the house has created a time vortex around here. It seems that the second we get them down to sleep in the evening, we're either playing "whack-a-mole", running upstairs to comfort the baby repeatedly, or we're passing out ourselves from sheer exhaustion (caused by playing a very similar game of "whack-a-mole" all night long). So yeah, writing kind of takes a backseat. But I do want to record what's been happening so that I can look back on it and laugh someday. Really, that's all this blog is: a running commentary of things I find funny or sad or ridiculous intended for me (and occasionally my family) to reread in the future, often peppered with long tangents.

Now what was my point? Oh yeah, gratitude. A lot of people make New Year's resolutions to lose weight (I'm getting there, amazingly), become more organized (ha! with kids?!), or get more sleep (see "whack-a-mole" above). I think I'll make a resolution I can actually keep, as I've already had a little practice since the birth of our son. I'm going to resolve to be more

grateful for all of the incredible things in my life. Sure, I'm totally going to report the crazy things that happen and I'll probably be annoyed and even bitter every now and again, but for the most part, I want to spend 2012 awash in gratitude for the little miracles that have been bestowed upon us. Y'know, things like kids, good health, and convection toaster ovens.

Today, I'm marveling at the big things. My two spectacular children and the partner with whom I couldn't have done it.

(You might not be able to see it all, but my husband is decked out in flashy play jewelry. Yup. That's my guy. See what I'm saying? Grateful.)