Obladi oblada life goes on bra
Lala how the life goes on
Obladi Oblada life goes on bra
Lala how the life goes on.

In a couple of years they have built a home sweet home,
With a couple of kids running in the yard,
Of Mark (Desmond) and Liz (Molly) P (Jones)... (Ha ha ha ha ha)

Happy ever after in the market place...
Mark (Desmond) lets the children lend a hand...
Liz (Molly) stays at home and does her pretty face...
And in the evening she still sings it with the band...

Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on, brah!...
Lala how the life goes on...
Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on, brah!...
Lala how the life goes on.

[Video and news this week... ;)]

That happens often with the kidlets.

I start doing one thing and then I react to a fall, a scream, an explosion... Okay the explosion bit is exaggerating but it's not by much.

Trust me.

I know it seems like all I do is complain about how much work my children are. Some might call me ungrateful.

But I'm not.

Oh Jesus Lord Buddha Christ Ganesha and whatever deity might be listening, am I ever so thankful.

Tonight as I sit here, listening to Mark's breathing, the air conditioning hum, the static over the baby monitor, I realize that I am now complete. That this is what I have been waiting for even though I did not know it. That as challenging and sometimes painful as this can be I would never in a million billion googleplex fucking years go back. I would never WANT it to go back.

This is me. This is my family. This is us. This is my heart and life.

Hunter is high-spirited, willful, defiant, tender, beautiful, gentle, clever, smart, articulate, funny, sad, lovely, determined, energetic, confusing and I will grant her every bit of my respect. I want to help her grow up to be a much more secure woman than I have been until of late.

Aden is milder but tantrummy, clingy, shy, bright, joyful, tearful, reserved, handsome, loud, rushing, pushy, sensitive, gentle, tricksy, and equally as confusing. And Jesus that scream of his makes our brains short-circuit, resets our wiring so we are wondering why we are standing there with a diaper and tube of butt paste while a toddler goes careening past. I want to understand what makes him do that, what makes him quiet one minute and a banshee the next and then to empower him to be the brilliant man I think he will grow up to be.

And Mark. Jesus. I can not tell everyone how much I admire him for keeping it together. For being the patient caregiver, knowing the kids' moods and not resenting me when I walk in the door and they cry "Mommy, mommy, mommy..." when they just grunt or say "Da" or call him "Mommy" as well. He's currently Rodney Dangerfield in the household, getting no respect from the kidlets, cats or dog.

Mark's life is full of strife. I only get to fully share in it on the weekends where I get the full dose. It is my life too, but I get to leave, escape, worry, and desperately miss the three of them from the second I walk out the door until I get back home. From 8 til 7 pm or so I am off working, after having gotten a "bye-bye" and pretend kiss from the kidlets; a real one from Mark.

I don't think of them every second-- however, I would be lying if I didn't say it feels like I do -- but if I don't touch base every 2 hours, something feels incredibly wrong. It's like I swim up to the surface from what I am doing. I realize I haven't heard from them in so long and the worry starts setting in. Those panic attacks from the past start looming their ugly heads. I get nervous until I reach Mark or he spontaneously calls and we relate some little thing that is going on. He's taking the kids for a walk. I'm having a meeting and will be unavailable but he should call if it's urgent.

It brings my world back into focus. Who AM I fighting / working for? My family.

This state of being is where I want to be, where I want to hang my hat, where I want to grow old, where I want people to grow old with me.

This is where I feel most calm and sane and alive.

This is home.

But I started this off wanting to talk about something else. Someone cried out in their sleep and I've lost my train of thought again... I'm off to check in on the kidlets and maybe tomorrow I will remember everything that I wanted to share with you. Maybe tomorrow I will get to do it before I go to bed...

Energy.

Hunter has it.

In spades.

And Mark and I are getting to our end.

She is constantly moving -- climbing, stripping, experimenting, exploring, manipulating. Today she got a time out at dinner which meant she was put into the hallway (entirely baby-proofed) for a minute. In that hot minute, she stripped her diaper, ran into their bedroom, climbed the TV armoire, and took a mid-air pee as she was hanging there. Mark caught her in the act and was as much amused as annoyed. What was she trying to prove with her mountain-climbing wee?

We won't go into the earlier diaper-stripping/poo incident. (We are getting two potties on Friday.)

She is a curious one and a stubborn one and as much as we try to give equal attention, we feel that we are coming up short with her. We don't want to be crushing her spirit or constantly reprimanding, but she is willful and determined. (And brilliant in some utterly Superhero/villain [hard to tell sometimes] ways.)

We are simply trying to keep her alive, which seems to be more challenging than it should be.

And I recognize the fire, the spark of brilliance in her, and want to nurture it.

So, I open this up to my readers -- what approach have you taken with a super-active precocious toddler? Have you enrolled them in classes? If you have, what kind? What approach have you taken? What do you recommend?

Mark and I are open and listening...

Oh there is so so so much to share. But where to begin.

Well, we'll start with me. I'm working a temp to perm position at a non-finance company and am enjoying it although I get nervous and frustrated. It's the usual first month jitters kind of stuff, so I try to not let it get to me. I think I'm doing as well as I can be and time will tell on that.

As for Mark and I, we've fallen back into our old, but improved, routines, and are managing well although we're both sleep-deprived and probably will be until the kidlets get married. Aside from that, each day brings new joys for us with the kids. They have finally gotten to the age where they are independent enough to be little people and have left babyhood behind, something that both saddens and thrills me.

The new highlight of my morning is when the kids come up to me and say "Bye." Now mind you, I might be sans pants and shoes when they do this, which amuses me to no end. It's kinda like they're saying, "Leave already so that we can get on with our day."

But their voices are so sweet when they say it and I know they get a kick of knowing what is going to happen... That I will leave and that they needn't worry cause they will be safe with Papa and that I will be back again to see them before they know it. I wish I had as much blind faith and certainty...

Other new morning rituals include brushing our teeth together and washing hands. And at 2 years and 1 month, they are finally, finally, finally starting to talk more. They're counting, identifying letters and colors and doing more than randomly pointing and grunting. This comes as a bit of a surprise since the Early Intervention evaluator told us not to expect for them to know their colors until 3 or better. However, they can not only point to the green thing or pick out what's blue, but they verbalize it in cute toddler speak. Hunter picked up a yellow Froot Loop and held it out triumpantly saying "Lellow" before consuming it. (Before anyone flames me for the Froot Loops, this was the first and only time EVER that she had them and we had them only because I got a variety cereal pack for my breakfasts. So there.) They are exhibiting signs of being very bright kids, which makes their mom and dad happy!

Bottles are a thing of the past, too, and it looks like sippy cups will be in a couple of months. They are both capable of drinking from cups, but Hunter likes to see what gravity does to liquid so we try to keep it enclosed for the time being. Less spillage, less agita for the 'rents..

And now... they have little kid haircuts.

We bit the bullet and hired a stylist to come to our apartment and give Aden and Hunter their first real haircuts. (We're ignoring the fact that I butchered their bangs at 9 months. That doesn't count in the scheme of things...)

We'd been putting off cutting their hair for what seemed to be like forever. The place we wanted to take them to had a wonderful reputation for being kid-friendly, but it was on the other side of the park and the first appointment of the day -- the one recommended by all the books we read as the best time to go for a first-time haircut -- was right smack in the middle of the kidlets' nap. It was also inconvenient for one parent to go at it alone and we had procrastinated all the way through my unemployment so it couldn't be a two parent deal.

Finally, it got to be too much to deal with for everyone. Aden was constantly pushing his hair out of his eyes, Hunter looked like a sheepdog and bathtime led to DRAMA when it came time to brushing out their tangles. Mark found our stylist, Jennifer Bilek, through the "A Child Grows in Brooklyn" website. After a brief call and chat, Mark hired her to come out and do the long-dreaded deed.

She came to our apartment this morning and set everything up, quickly and efficiently. I really liked her as she was super friendly to the kids -- it was one of the first times that the kids didn't cry when meeting someone new -- and was really nice and reassuring to us. Both kids cried their eyes out during the actual cutting but sat pretty much still in my lap which was perfect for what she needed to do. All told, she was done in about half an hour or so and the kids looked great! It was well worth it and I heartily recommend her to anyone in NYC looking for an in-home stylist!

Here are before and after pictures:

Hunter modeling "Hearts for a Little Lady"

Aden looking very much like a rockstar...

Hunter after the cut (there are other pics but this one shows her hair mostly dry)...

And Aden looking like a little man...

Bonus Pic: Mark reading "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" at bed time.

P.S. Yes, that was an FO in the pictures above. Nice of you to notice. I am currently more than halfway through Aden's Baby Bubbles sweater.

It's been raining non-stop here.

NON. Stop.

Which has made it hard for Mark to get the kids out. We don't belong to any indoor groups so all the kids have are the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens (lucky buggers!) and the Garfield Tot Lot to go to. I say "all" but we know that the kids are beyond fortunate to have such cool things. I wish that the Botanical Gardens was my go-to place as a kid. (We've a family membership we use almost daily.) Today, Fathers' Day, Mark took them to see ducks and as a bonus they got to see some rabbits and a turtle.(I needed to sort laundry and iron shirts for work so I stayed behind.)

Still, the indoor stuff is sorely lacking for us, and when the rain comes, the kids are usually stuck indoors.It makes for unusually cranky days and nights full of unreleased energy. And it makes for tired parents. Now that I am working again, Mark has the kids from 6:30 am til 8 or whenever I get home. So he's been dealing with figuring out a safe way for the kids to get their ya-yas out. He has been dealing with all the crank the kids have to throw at him.

Lately, he's been being creative with activities. Now that the kids are older, coloring is cool and they have a new found love for their Fisher Price barn and dollhouse. Pretty soon we will throw playdough and fingerpainting into that mix.

But the slide... That gets their uttermost love:

Well at least until Yo Gabba Gabba comes on.

Still, pain in the butt that it is to get that out and set up, their joy and glee is worth it.

And, at the end of the day, after our kids are happily in bed, and I see that my husband is done and tired and worn out, I realize that he is one in a million. He is the only man I could trust to do this and I love him incredibly and thoroughly.

He's the perfect father and I love him, the kids love him, more than he knows.

So Mark, this one's for you, in a way. Happy Fathers' Day. Thank you for raising some damned fine kids.

Life is good in a lot of ways but it's been busy. I have stories to tell, knitting to share and general good news.

Hold tight monkeys. I'll be back to share real soon.

Thanks everyone for the birthday wishes and virtual hugs. While I'm still not quite over the angst of being 40, I have been working very hard on myself.

"Operation Fit Me" launched last Monday and I will tell you more about it tomorrow. Let's just say it involves embracing daily exercise, getting back on plan with Weight Watchers and using what has been proven to motivate me to get me to my goal.

In the meantime, I will leave you with the following pictures of the kidlets:

P.S. I fixed the comments so that you don't have to register or sign in. I didn't realize Typepad had made that a default setting, the sneaky buggers...