Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Letter to Becca: 5 months

Dear Becca,

I'm totally in denial that you are almost six months old. As far as I'm concerned, you were born yesterday. It sure does feel like it sometimes! But clearly, you weren't born yesterday. In fact, just last Wednesday, you started crawling. And then yesterday, you started this:
Spring-1
Spring-2
Spring-3
Spring-4
I had to include this last one, even though it's blurry, because it just so perfectly captured this little mischevious gleam that you get in your eye whenever you decide to try and stand. I really would like to push you over, because I'm totally not ready for this to be happening. Heck, I thought your sister was a ridiculously early mover, and she didn't even start to crawl until well after six months. So frankly, the fact that you are already crawling AND also trying to stand? Kinda terrifies me!

Spring-6
Spring-5
During the day, you are usually one of the sweetest, happiest babies I know. You love playing peek-a-boo, being tickled, and doing anything with your sister (you love her so much!). You've been babbling a ton, and even do this sort of "humming" while you're nursing. You are quick to smile and laugh, which I have to admit is a huge blessing, because it kinda off-sets the rough nights we've had around here lately. Sweet girl, you just do not sleep at night. As a general rule, you don't sleep between midnight and 5am ish. I might get a 30 minute stretch here or there, but not typically any more than that. The tough thing is that when you're up in the middle of the night, sometimes NOTHING will calm you down. Not being held/rocked/shushed/patted, etc. You just cry. For about an hour. Then I get you calm enough to sleep, and you sleep for about a half hour, and then we start the cycle all over.

It's especially rough because I'm usually the one who is up with you, and I'm not sure that your dad really understands just how sleep deprived I am right now. When you're not the one in the trenches, it can be easy to forget that sleep deprivation affects everything else and basically makes you feel like you cannot function in any aspect of life. I've felt pretty overwhelmed and maxed out for a couple weeks now, and I'm not sure how much longer I can handle not sleeping coupled with someone in our family having something scheduled every night of the week and just being go-go-go all the time. When Lizzy was a baby, I still felt like I could (mostly) keep up with our crazy busy schedule, because even if she wasn't sleeping at night, I could still sleep whenever she decided to during the day. This time around, with having a toddler, that's just not an option. Something has to give, and soon. Because I almost completely lost my cool and had a complete meltdown last night when your grandpa asked your dad to cover something for him on a Friday night later next month.  I wanted to yell NO NO NO NO NO. As far as I'm concerned, no one is allowed to do anything else. At all. I don't care how small. Because we were maxed out 25 small things ago. NO NO NO NO NO. But I digress.

So. It's been a kind of rough adjustment and couple of months for me, but somehow that roughness still doesn't even really begin to touch the sweet moments with you sweet girl--the smiles, and the giggles, and the open mouthed slobbery kisses.

Spring-7
Love you forever and for always, no matter what.
Mom

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

And then she yelled it.

Have you ever had one of those days that's so beyond ridiculous that you're waiting for someone to pop out from behind something and say, "Smile! You're on candid camera!" Yeah. That was today. It was ridiculous you guys. RIDICULOUS. I'm really not sure how such a perfect storm of things could all have managed to align specifically on today, but they did.

We'd planned to have a playdate with some friends today, but they were sick. So instead, I decided to run to the next town over to run some errands. As usual, we got out of the house later than I intended, because I set Becca down to grab something right before sticking her in her car seat...only she fell asleep on the floor.

So two hours later, we're finally on our way. As we're driving, I realize that it's 12:30 and I haven't fed Lizzy lunch. So, we swing into Sonic. I see a sign that says kids meals are $1.99 on Wednesdays. Perfect. I see another sign advertising an adult cheeseburger meal for $5. Great. I order the $5 cheeseburger meal and the kids meal.

"That'll be $11.62," she says. On a normal day, kids meals are like $3.20 or something, so this does not make sense in any way shape or form.

"Ummmm...aren't the kids meals $1.99? And my meal should be $5, right?"

"Yes ma'am. Please pull ahead." I'm no math genius, but I know that $5 + $1.99 does not equal $11.62. So, at the window, I say the same thing again--my meal is $5, and Lizzy's meal is $1.99 They close the window and call over three more people. A few minutes later, they open up the window.

"That'll be 10.18," she says.

"I'm sorry, but that still doesn't make any sense," I reply. The window shuts again. The employees talk again. Becca starts hysterically screaming because she's hungry. Lately, when she's hungry, it's like instant hysteria. No discernible warning signs. No fussing or slow melt so you have some warning that the feeding is going to have to happen soon. Just instantaneous, high pitched, hysterical shrieking. The window opens back up again.

"That'll be $9.18," she says.

Now. I still know that $5 and $1.99 don't equal $9.18. I'm not even sure where $9.18 came from. But at this point, Becca is screaming so loud that I can't even think straight, and it's not worth the extra $2.19 to sit and argue with Sonic for another 15 minutes, so I just pay, and we continue on. I hand Lizzy her hamburger, and we keep driving, me figuring that I'll feed Becca in the car before we head into our first stop, Wal-Mart.

Three minutes later, we get to Wal-Mart. Becca is now asleep. I go to get Lizzy out of the car, and discover that she has not eaten ANY of her hamburger. No. She's taken it apart, and shoved each individual piece (meat, bun, pickles) into some little compartment in the door. Amazing. I clean that up.

As I'm cleaning, I somehow pull the entire open diaper bag off the seat of the car, and the entire thing spills out under the car. So then, I'm laying on the ground in the middle of the Wal-Mart parking lot, trying to fish things out from under the car.

I finally collect everything. Becca's still asleep. I unbuckle Lizzy. I then find a plastic baggie of meatballs in her carseat. I have no idea when these meatballs are from. Only that I haven't made meatballs recently, nor do I remember giving Lizzy a bag of them. If I had to guess, I'd probably guess that they're from Easter at grandma and grandpa's house. But I didn't know that any came home with us, so I also have no idea how many came home with us. I say a quick prayer that Lizzy did NOT happen to decide to eat those instead of her hamburger.



We finally make it inside. Lizzy immediately says, "No mom, I don't have to go to the bathroom. I will tell you if I do." Great. We start shopping. About 3 minutes in, Lizzy says she has to go to the bathroom. We're in the back of the store, so we head to the bathrooms there. I unpack us all, leave the cart, and say a silent thank you for family bathrooms. Once we get inside, Lizzy cries and carries on because this bathroom has a little potty, but does not have a little sink. She wants to go to the bathroom at the front of the store instead. I say no. Lizzy then proceeds to sit on the potty and sing at the top of her lungs for 20 minutes before I finally make her get up so we can continue shopping. My allergies are driving me crazy, and I feel like I'm constantly rubbing under my nose. Oye vey.

Three minutes later, Becca wakes up. And she is pissed. And screaming. And hysterical. I re-direct our cart to the dressing rooms to feed her, but abandon that plan once I see a bench in the middle of the store. I park it there, whip out a blanket, and start feeding Becca. People stare as they walk by BIG TIME. One older lady full-on glares. I feel like that mom in the Luvs commercial {please tell me that y'all know the one}, and I seriously don't even care. I'm feeding my kid! I've got this under control! I'm super mom!

About two minutes into feeding Becca, Lizzy starts squirming. I know this squirm. It's the potty squirm. Sure enough, she screams, "I THINK I HAVE TO PEE!" Great. I tell her to hold it for a minute while Becca finishes nursing the first side, and then we head back to the bathroom. Becca's ticked because she's not done eating, so I'm carrying her while she's crying and flailing around, and trying to push the cart. People are still staring, and by now I'm kind of fuming.

And then. AND THEN. And then, we get to the bathroom, and I see that I have white powder ALL. OVER. ME. WHAT. THE. HECK?!? It's all over my face, under my nose. All over. And I have no idea what it is. A quick examination later, and I figure out that it's Becca's teething tablets. When the diaper bag fell out of the car, the lid to the teething tablets broke. I didn't realize it, and tossed the whole thing back into the diaper bag...the interior of which is now COVERED in fine white powder.

I also realize that people weren't staring/glaring at me because I was breastfeeding with a cover...they were staring at me because I WAS COVERED IN WHITE DUST and straight-up looked like a crazy druggie with all the white dust under my nose. I wish I'd thought to take a picture so that you all could understand just how crazytown I looked, but I didn't. Trust me though, I looked like a straight up druggie. I wouldn't be surprised if I ended up on People of Wal-Mart sometime in the near future. It was that absurd. So, I clean up. We finish up in the bathroom. I nurse Becca on the other side. No one stares. We continue shopping.

A little while later, Lizzy points to some nail polish and says, "Give me that NOW!"

I tell her that no, I won't be giving that to her, and that it is not okay for her to talk to me like that. She tells me that she's going to say a naughty word. We've just recently watched the Ramona & Beezus movie, and in the movie, Ramona says that she's going to say a naughty word, and then yells "GUTS!" Lizzy's done this several times since when she was frustrated, so I know what's coming. Sure enough, she says "GUTS!" Loudly.

And then she starts to rhyme. 

"BUTTS!" she says loudly.

"Cuts!" she says happily. Great, if rhyming is the key to changing her mood, that's fine by me.

"BITS!" she says.

"PITS!"

And then. AND THEN she yelled it. Lizzy screamed, "TITS!"

I am 100% certain she's never head that particular word before. She was just rhyming. But of course, it happened that this would be the word she chooses to scream. And of course, she just so happens to scream it right as the same lady who previously glared at me {which I now know is because I looked like a druggie, nursing my kid while my face was covered in white dust, but she probably still thinks I AM a druggie} pushes her cart right on by.

She gasped. Loudly. It was awesome.

And then...any guesses what Lizzy said next?

"Mom? I have to go potty."

It was an awesome day. 

And that's not even counting finally getting in line, and waiting for 20 minutes behind an old lady who wrote 10 different checks for what she was purchasing. Or the two more times we went to the bathroom while at Wal-Mart. Or the fact that both kids fell asleep in the car after leaving Wal-Mart, so I never got to run the other errands that I specifically drove to the next town to do (so basically, even though there's a Wal-Mart here, I drove to the next town over to visit their Wal-Mart just for kicks). Or the fact that I'm supposed to be working out right now, but instead I'm writing this in the car because of the car seat naps. Or the fact that Lizzy isn't wearing a pullup, and isn't potty trained for naps yet, so I'm sure that's going to be fun too.

Really, it was ridiculous. But also? Kind of funny. And I think {hope} that this is the stuff that I'll look back on someday, and laugh. Because REALLY. The day couldn't have been more ridiculous if I'd tried. 

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