The birds and the bees...a bit early?

Me: Natalie, remember when Zachary was in my tummy and I got in the bathtub with you? I was so big, I barely fit!

Natalie: Yes! But Zachary is not in your tummy anymore.

Me: No, he's not. I remember when you were in my tummy, too.

Natalie: (gives me a look of pure glee and tickled delight as she squeals happily) Yes. Zachary was in your tummy and I was in your tummy when I was a baby and Daddy was in your tummy when HE was a little baby.

Well, not quite.

Rain, Rain Go Away!

I love the rain. In fact, I'm usually the first to defend its honor to the thousands of sun worshippers with whom I'm friends. But after spending just an hour on an outing with both my baby and my toddler, I realize how lucky I am to live in Southern California.

(I will quickly point out to my friend Leen that she was brilliant to live in South Florida while her kids were little and THEN move to Oregon.)

Sleep!!!

Z got up ONE time last night.

Keith intervened.

Ergo...

I got a full night of sleep.

JUBILANT!!

Natalie-isms

Natalie held up her Cinderella water toy and proceeded to have this conversation with me.

Natalie: My Cinderelly is dirty!
Me: How'd that happen?
Natalie: The kitties did it. The kitties got Cinderelly all dirty.
Me: They did? How?
Natalie: With their kitty food.
Me: The kitties got Cinderella dirty with their food?
Natalie: Yes. It was not Daddy, and not me, and not Zachary, and not Mommy, and not Daddy (because he gets added twice in most of her monologues). It was Cleo and Bubba. (For the record, Tony is Bubba's actual name, but Natalie favors his nickname.)

Up late. Again.

I've been up with Z for 2.15 hours now. Finally, after doing everything on the list (diaper, nursing, comforting, holding), I left the room and let him cry for five minutes. Cry he did. Like SCREAM cry. But he's been so used to major intervention with this illness that I feel like I had to do something to reinforce the fact that he needed to sleep. When I went into his room after five minutes was up, I replaced his foof and left. He began to cry immediately (much to my dismay), but something miraculous happened. He stopped almost immediately. And hasn't started again! Impossible. I'm going to go take advantage of this while I can. Goodnight!

Keith's Weekend Away

So this weekend marks a milestone for me of sorts: Keith went away for the entire weekend with two of his buddies on a snowboarding trip to Mammoth and I'm alone with the kids. Well, kind of alone. In an act of selflessness, my mom came up for two of the days to help me out. (I love you Mom!) Really, I don't know what I would have done without her.

You see, this was just supposed to be like any other weekend, comprised of lazy mornings and hopefully a few play dates. I've done bedtime on my own before on many occasions, too, so juggling naps and bedtimes is not foreign to me (although it is still exhausting). What we didn't plan for was the plague. Or, to be more specific (and not quite as dramatic), Tripleearinfectionpalooza. That's right. Natalie and Zach got sick last weekend--I think that one was my fault, as I had symptoms first--and come Monday, I knew it would be prudent to go to the doctor as a preemptive strike. This was a good idea, but the execution was poor as the doctor proclaimed that they simply had bad cold viruses and there was nothing he could prescribe for them. Sigh. So I went to work the next day, called day care to see how they were doing (snotty, but fine), and thought we all were going to get better.

Oh how wrong I was.

Tuesday night, we were up all night with baby Z, comforting him as he coughed like a fog horn and nursing throughout the night (which I haven't done many months). Natalie awoke with a fever. I stayed home on Wednesday, hoping fervently that with the continuity of naps and some good old TLC from dear Mom they'd begin to take a turn for the better. Thursday came and respite seemed far away with two fussy, feverish kids. The impending weekend was looming, but I didn't want to go to the doctor to be reminded, "Lady, you were here on Monday. Did you think we were going to say something new and special today?" Alas, we stayed home and I nursed them like my life depended on it. When they went to bed fighting fevers, we knew we were in for it. Thursday night was just as bad as the previous two. Zachary was beside himself all night long. This fact alerted my primitive Mama-sixth-sense and come 8:00 A.M., I was on the phone with the pediatrician making an appointment.

Vindicated, I listened as Dr. Wu proclaimed what I already knew to be true: Natalie has an ear infection in one ear and Z has double infections that look incredibly nasty. Yup. Knew it. What I didn't know was how much Friday night would suck. And suck it did. Horribly. Viciously. Like, if my worst enemy planned a night to suck, he/she could not have made it any worse than last night. Here's the Reader's Digest version: I was literally up all night to tend to a very frustrated baby, getting only about 40 minute snippets of sleep (and those were the lengthy stretches!) at a time. Come 4:20 A.M., I could not get Z to relax in his own crib. My guess was that every time he lay down on his mattress, it was not raised enough to make the fluid in his head recede and resulted in a pounding sensation. We've all been there, right? So, being the CEO for the night, I made the executive decision to take him into my room so that I could comfort him while lying down myself. Within about 10 minutes, we were both asleep...and that's when I heard a high-pitched squeal/shriek of terror coming from Natalie's room. I awakened at about 5:15 and had to think quickly with a very slow, trudging mind. Figuring that it couldn't get much worse, I deposited Z in his crib as carefully as possible and went into Natalie's room. In a moment that was not my proudest, I bargained and threatened my way back to my room, recanting only for a moment to get her some Advil. I crawled back into bed for a whopping 30 minutes until I awoke to her crying again. This time, I felt horrible denying my little girl the love she was craving and I invited her into our room to watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse while I slept for another 20 minutes. Then Z woke up for the day and off I ran.

With 24 hours of antibiotics in them, I'm hoping for a night that's just a *tiny* bit better than last night. I'm having a glass of wine for courage. Wish me luck.