tales of grace

Hellllo, Terrible Twos.

2012-05-21T13:19:00.001-07:00

It has been quite awhile since I've blogged and it makes me really sad. Between working nearly full time and early onset terrible twos, any free time we get is spent folding laundry, grocery shopping, scrubbing crayon off the walls, or begging for an early bedtime.

Since I last wrote, things have taken an interesting turn here in toddlerville. Grace is really testing us lately; pushing any and every limit we impose. She will be two in August but seems a little ahead of the curve on the whole 'terrible two' business.   I've done copious amounts of reading on the subject, looking for effective ways of 'disciplining' (so to speak) our little girl, in a way that she'll respond to. So far, I want to punch Dr. Spock, What to Expect, and the folks over at Baby Center in the face. The last gem I read suggested that I make 'home a place where the number of "no's" isn't overwhelming". I'd like to offer the author of this article the same thing my 19 month old offered me, a nice hard slap to the face. Tell me about 'seeing the humor in it' with a stinging red imprint of Grace's hand on your cheek.

I often wonder if the neighbors are keeping track of the amount of times I shout "No!" throughout the day. Lately it feels like that is the extent of our conversation over here. Grace has figured out how to jimmy all of the drawer locks in the kitchen, unlatch the toilet seat lock, and mastered the art of dropping valuables down the heat vents. I've tried distraction and have calmly explained to her why whatever mischief she's into isn't okay. We encourage Grace to explore her freedom and have as much fun as humanly possible, but safety is a concern when she's deep sea fishing in the downstairs bathroom.

I'm aware that there isn't a lot to be done about this behavior when they're so young but it's really hard to deal with. We have tantrums ever 15 minutes, I'm hit in the face at least twice every time we're out in public, and Grace is getting more and more particular about how she likes things by the day. Are we raising a little monster or is this just par for the course?

As always though, there is a silver lining. Sometimes its difficult to locate on days like today, but she seems to know when to let it shine. Mid mischief, just when I'm about to excuse myself to the bathroom for an afternoon cry session, she throws me this look.

potty on head, mom's shoes on feet <3

I spend A LOT of time wishing these difficult days away and looking forward to a more reasonable Grace, but I know I'll end up missing these days terribly. I mean, could she be any more freakin adorable?

Here's a little peek at what we've been up to lately.

Shit. Shat. Shot.

2012-04-12T17:02:00.001-07:00

There was a time, well before pregnancy and Grace and before I gained 50 80 lbs., that my energy level wasn't in the shitter. I know that sounds crass, but my ever plummeting motivation resides just there. Does this listlessness coincide with my return to work? It doesn't really matter. What ever is causing this total lack of vigor really sucks.

I feel like I'm being pulled in 247 different directions. I don't want to miss a second of Grace's little existence, but know I need to be working. After staying home with Grace for 18 months, I relish the time I have away from the house. It feels good to have the freedom and Ryan is supportive and appreciative of my drive to work. But after a long day at work, I'm having difficultly finding the time and energy to do all of the fun Mommy/Daughter stuff that means so much to me. Lately, I feel like DJ Lance of Yo Gabba Gabba has done more parenting than I have.

There was a time, again well before Grace made her debut, that money wasn't really a huge concern of mine. I didn't need much and haven't ever been overly concerned with the finer things. It's no secret that child rearing is costly and I want the absolute best for Grace, by any means necessary. I'm working two jobs now and Ryan is working his usual gaggle of jobs. Truth is, it's a lot. I'm gone before those two wake up and when I walk in the door, Ryan's off. The door is constantly swinging and it's hard to catch our breath.

My biggest fear is that I'm failing Grace is my efforts to contribute financially. (annd I'm crying) It has always been important to me to raise my kids. I don't want a nanny and I don't want her spending more time at a day care than she does with us. I want to do the finger painting, I want to dish out the snacks, and I want all the hugs and kisses. We've avoided any type of childcare thus far and plan to continue on that path. Trouble is, between the stress from work, insufficient sleep, and the constant financial struggles, I feel myself losing patience with the wrong people - Grace included.

But, we'll carry on, realizing we have it better than most. What other choice do we have? If constant exhaustion is the name of the game, pass me the Red bull and set the alarm. Grace deserves the world and we intend on providing it for her. Until then, we'll pray to the Mega Millions fairies and keep on keepin' on.

Easter!

2012-04-09T11:22:00.000-07:00

I love this kid so much. Seriously. I can hardly remember how we got on without her. She makes every part of our lives so much richer. Without getting into too much boring detail, I will report that our Easter was amazing. Grace was spoiled (as per usual) and we all enjoyed our day. Here are a few shots from yesterday that I'm absolutely in frickin' love with.

G's got Scarlet Fever.

2012-04-02T10:21:00.001-07:00

For the past 19 months, G has been the picture of health. Aside from a cold or two and a diaper rash here and there, we've been pretty lucky in the illness department. ((knocking on wood)) I attribute Grace's good health to up to date vaccinations and her OCD Mama, but Saturday night - we got our first real scare.

Grace has had a rash for the past few weeks, starting in her diaper area and gradually spreading to her back/legs/chest. I took her to her pediatrician a day or two after the rash presented itself and was told it was viral and to wait it out. Over the next 10 days, it got a little better and what rash remained didn't seem to trouble her too much. We assumed she was on the mend.

Saturday, after a grueling 12 hour workday, I arrived home to a seriously broken out little girl. A sand-papery rash covered Grace's entire back and stomach and had moved onto her face. She was running around as usual and wasn't showing any other symptoms. Her neck and back were red and her face was pretty startling too. Ryan had to work that evening, so Grace and I were on our own. We headed to my parents house and were met with a pair of very concerned grandparents. At first I was hesitant to take Grace in, assuming that it wasn't anything serious, but after a brief Google session it became clear that Grace's rash looked a lot like Scarlet Fever. In the moment, I didn't think to take a picture of what G's rash looked like - but here's the image that sent us on our way.

At 9:30pm, we were off. Pop, Grace and I headed to urgent care.

The wait was brief and Grace was cheerful. Every person that came in or out of the waiting room was greeted with a red faced smile and a jovial "Hi!". By the time it was our turn, Grace knew she was in for it. Grace HATES the doctor lately, and this visit was no exception. After a thorough examination and a strep screen, we were on our way with Penicillin on tap for the next 10 days.

Grace is doing great and is already improving after only 4 days of medication. Grace's symptoms were not those of the classic strep throat presentation. She had no fever and there was no indication of any throat infection. We think that G's diaper rash progressed into Impetigo, a skin strep infection, ultimately leading to Scarlet Fever.

As I said, Grace seems no worse for the wear. Our little girl is a trooper and we're so happy we caught this before it got worse. Looking forward to a nice Easter weekend, scarlet fever free. :)

people I want to punch in the mouth

2012-03-29T12:44:00.000-07:00

I'd be putting it lightly if I said I was a little short on patience. As if not losing my patience with my toddler isn't difficult enough, I try desperately not to go off the deep end while dealing with the jerks around me. Who are these jerks you ask? I'll tell you a little bit about them and maybe you can avoid them.

People Who I Want to SOCK IN THE FACE

#1. Everybody at Joanne Fabrics - and any other hobby store for that matter. You'd think that with the stakes set so low, visiting a craft store would be a fairly enjoyable shopping trip. You aren't at a gun shop stocking up on ammo for the impending Rapture or god forbid renewing your license at the DMV. You're picking up yarn and a hot glue gun to complete you latest Pinterest project. I'm not a terribly patient person as it is, but standing in a line 15 people deep while the granny at the front tries frantically to load their coupons off the smart phone they have no business operating, makes me want to fashion some malatov cocktails and go nuts. They should have a special line for these cross stitching doofases.

#2. People who count to 10, before turning left on a green arrow. I understand being cautious; looking both ways is elementary. But when you're in rush hour traffic, move it along. You needn't adjust your Garmin, call your uncle, pluck your eyebrows, or count to 10. Perhaps if you were sitting in a car that reeked of vomit, with a screaming kid in the backseat - you'd hasten.

#3. People who don't hold the door. This includes the assholes who don't say thank you when the door is held for them. I have a really difficult time believing that I'm the only person who was taught to say thank you, be polite, and hold the god dang door. Are these unchivalrous assholes just lazy or don't they understand that us kind, thoughtful folks could just let the door hit them in the face? Treat others as you wish to be treated - or prepare to have a door slammed on your beak.

#4. Handicapped parking spots occupied by perfectly able jerks. This one doesn't even directly relate to me, but irritates me none the less. These choice located blue spots are designated for people who really need them, not the impatient diva who refuses to follow the rules. Rules are in place for a reason, and this is one of them that really irks me when it is disobeyed. I NEVER park in a handicapped spot and I sometimes even have a hard time parking in the spots next to the handicapped spots, for fear of a handicapped rush and lack of close parking. To the annoying women and men who believe they're above the rule: Look out. I am the handicap tag enforcer and will NOT hesitate to bitch you out for being a handicap spot scammer. Come on back to section H where you belong.

#5. Bad Parents. God I hate to criticize other people's parenting, and for the most part - I try to abstain. But I cannot stand when parents let their children run a muck without any supervision. Now that I'm back to work, I see it all the time. Women will stroll in with their girlfriends, 5 tykes deep and let em' loose. Kids are shrieking, food is flying, and I'm annoyed. Finally - when the unsupervised children from hell decide to make a break for it and head out the door, the irresponsible women act like its our fault that their kids we're acting out. Next time you go out of a girls lunch, leave the kids at home. You suck at parenting.

And that concludes the people I want to sock, at least for today. Tomorrow will bring on a whole new slew of jerk offs who may be in need of a smack or two in the kisser.

back to work blues

2012-03-26T15:54:00.000-07:00

Now that I'm back to working almost full time, I find myself in a constant state of confusion. It has been a while since I've had to deal with the pressure that comes along with working outside the home, and in conjunction with the n e v e r ending S T R E S S that is Motherhood, I am POOPED out.

I'm almost always ready to crash. With a 7am call time four days a week, sleep has become a distant memory. I leave before the sun comes up and don't even get to say goodbye to Grace, as she is still snoozing. I get to work as the sun is rising and count the hours until I can call Ryan and get my morning G update. I feel so out of the loop. I don't know if she woke up happy or what she'll eat for breakfast. Does she miss me? Did she POOP!?

Fortunately I'm out by three everyday, so I get plenty of G time when I get home. On my ride home last week, my Dad called me just to check in and see how his little Gracie was doing. It broke my heart to have to answer "I think good. Haven't seen her yet today.".

But work is good and the money is even better. I keep telling myself that I'm not working for extra cash or to treat myself to mani/pedi's after a luxurious girls lunch. I'm working for my little girl, and it feels really good to contribute financially.

And so, today is my day off and G and I are kickin' it to some Yo Gabba Gabba. It felt good to feed her breakfast and I even enjoyed changing a seriously shitty diaper. Back in the Mama groove til' tomorrow and loving it.

My kid smells like a dirty hippie.

2012-03-25T20:39:00.003-07:00

G smells like a dirty hippie. Stereotype? Maybe. But seriously. My kid smells like she just got done clambaking a Volkswagon at a Grateful Dead concert. The culprit? Earth Mama, Angel Baby - Bottom Balm.

Grace's bottom has definitely seen better days. We took her to the doctor last week about a little rash she'd developed along with a pesky diaper rash that wouldn't bugger off. The doctor used one of the most irritating words in my parental opinion and told me it was 'viral'. Viral - the blanket term used for seriously annoying things that they can't help you with.

And so, after investing in every type of butt cream, balm, and salve we could find - I decided to take a trip to the local health food store and get in touch with my inner naturalist. As researched by G's Na Na, Weleda baby cream and Earth Mama got rave reviews. $30 later, my little lady is running around nude and reeking of patchouli.

G is snoring now, fast asleep in upstairs. Her bottom is soothed and she is resting peaceful. The smell of patchouli and jojoba oil is soothing and makes me feel a little less crappy about her sore little tush. Hoping this stuff does the trick!

Erin go baby

2012-03-17T18:31:00.001-07:00

It's been over a week since I've posted, but not without good reason. We've been busy! I started a new job last week and am sloooowly getting back into the groove of rising before the sun. It is difficult leaving the house before Grace even wakes up, but it's wonderful coming home to her. In other ~~unremarkable~~ news, Grace has a seriously rough diaper rash. This diaper rash perfectly coincides with my return to the workforce, thus sending me into a spiral of mommy guilt. Oh the delight of feeling like total shit.

But today, Ryan and I both had the day off and wanted to make the best of it - red bottom and all. Years ago, he and I could have been found at the local pub, hanging with our buddies and drinking green beer. But today, we took our little Irish girl to the petting farm for some real fun. I speak for both of us when I say that this year beat the hell of out of the latter.

Getting back on the blogging bandwagon this week hopefully. We have a ton of pictures of G playing outside now that it has finally warmed up! Here's a peek at Grace down on the farm.

Our little guppie has guppies!

2012-03-08T21:06:00.001-08:00

Grace has fish!! Four "highly resilient" little guppies, who the woman at Pet Smart assured me they were hard to kill. For Christmas, G's Nana bought her an aquarium nightlight, which Grace absolutely adored. Sadly, after many a night left on - the thing broke, leaving G fishless and fussy. We figured what better way to remedy this than with the real thing!

moving the tank upstairs tonight!

We found a great kit at Pet Smart that came with almost everything we needed to get G's first tank off and running. Light, filter and tank for under $40!! We're planning on adding a few more plants and another couple fish, barring that we get through the first week without any casualties. Grace seems to love the little guys and can't stop yelling "ish!". And the way I see it, anything that doesn't have poop that I have to clean up is a-okay in my book! :)

my kid LOVES to shit the bed

2012-03-08T09:31:00.000-08:00

At G's last check up, our doctor mentioned that it might be time to introduce a potty chair into Grace's everyday life. I know a lot of parents say this, and maybe I'm totally full of it, but for an 18 month old - G seems advanced. Grace's favorite hobbies this month include organizing the shoe bin and tidying up the kitchen. She loves being part of the team and really looks happy when she's 'at work'. This being said - we're pretty sure potty training Grace will be a breeze.

The doctor mentioned that one of the best ways to introduce the potty chair is to place it where your kid likes to go #2. She mentioned that some kids like to poop standing behind a chair and others will go stand in the corner. She said that placing the chair where they already go to do their business will encourage them to give the chair a shot. Problem is - my kid LOVES to shit the bed.

Grace's preferred dumping zone is her crib. Everyday at nap time, we've come to expect the telling grunts immediately after we shut the door. We're not totally sure why Grace prefers things this way, but I like to think she likes her privacy. And what young lady wouldn't? Like I said - she's advanced.

So this presents a problem. Placing a potty in the crib isn't an option, but she doesn't seem to get it otherwise. The concept of teaching a kid to stop crapping their pants and to instead sit on a chair and do their business, is draining. I'm still trying to teach her the difference between Goldfish crackers and cedar mulch.

Fortunately, we're not in any hurry to get her potty trained and I'm not sure I'm ready to let go of the diaper stage. The idea of Grace being grown enough to use the potty makes me feel a little weepy. ((and yes, I weep about everything)). Diaper changes and fixing dinner are some of the few things Grace still needs me for and I secretly enjoy our diaper changing convos.

Will update more on the status of the potty introduction, but am anticipating a long and poopy road. Til then, its crappin' the bed and pampers.

Windy Wordless Wednesday :)

2012-03-07T13:41:00.002-08:00

The mitten is warming up and spring is definitely on it's way. Today it was 65º here and Grace and I took full advantage of the sunshine (and WIND!) :)

Time for #2?

2012-03-06T14:46:00.000-08:00

I can't believe I'm writing this, but it is the truth. I've got baby fever. I want another one. Like now.

For those of you who don't know me personally, I'll fill you in on a little back history. Back when Grace was in the ol' womb, I was a hot mess. For me, those nine months were a mix of magic and mayhem. It seemed that with each magical pregnancy milestone , I got further in touch with my inner demon. When I wasn't starving, uncomfortable, or weeping, I was typically making any number of my loved ones miserable.

As a lifetime hypochondriac and OCD extraordinaire, nine months felt like an eternity. When I wasn't terrified of getting listeria from Subway or checking for a fetal heartbeat @ 4am, I was neurotically assisting in the planning of my baby shower (sorry Mom and Amanda). Towards the end of my second trimester, I was informed that I'd only gained 11lbs. to date. That appointment gave way to the deep and disgusting spiral into a full blown McChicken addiction. I couldn't get enough of these processed chicken sandwiches. My total weight gain at the end of my 40th week was just under 60lbs. I was quite literally super sized.

I was due on Friday, August 13 and went ten days post date. Labor was a nightmare and the kid took just under 5 hours to push out. It seemed like everything that could go wrong, was really trying to. After 27 hours, G joined us and filled us with more joy that we could have ever asked for.

Grace was a great baby and only really had a couple of bad weeks. I remember thinking that I couldn't wait until Grace could eat 'people' food and sleep the night; when Grace became a little more independent, the fun would really begin. Now I look back to those cuddly days and can literally smell the Enfamil. I long for baby urp and snuggles. And nothing compares to that baby smell.

Grace sleeps the night now and really gives back. She's always waiting at the door for us, ready to dish out hugs and kisses. I realized today when someone asked me how old my baby was, that I didn't really have a baby anymore. Grace is a kid. She likes bananas, hates bread, sometimes says shit, and loves Yo Gabba Gabba. She'll play for hours in the yard and will dance her butt off to anything with a little rhythm. She is definitely not a baby.

I hesitate to say that I'm ready to go back and start again, but I think I might be getting close. A few more things need to happen before I feel like baby #2 can join the party, but I think we both know Grace needs a playmate in the next few years. In the meantime, I need some of my friends (and sisters!) to pop out a few so I can steal snuggles til' it's our time again! :)

Baby's First Road Rash

2012-03-04T15:05:00.000-08:00

G took a nasty fall yesterday, resulting in what I affectionately coined "baby's first road rash". The good news is that Grace is still totally adorable and doesn't seem to notice her nicked up face. I see Tylenol and cuddles in our future. :)

Pretty, pretty please VOTE FOR US!

keep your Mumps to yourself

2012-03-02T21:21:00.002-08:00

Well we've successfully navigated our way through yet another doctors appointment and were thrilled to hear how great our little girl is doing. She's a solid little chick, weighting in at 28lbs and stretching 34 inches! G's in the 95th percentile across the board and is moving through her second year swimmingly. I wish I could report that Grace took the visit to the Doc like a champ, but I would be lying. Let me put it this way. Grace almost successfully strangled the doctor with her own stethoscope! Without going into anymore detail - we were thrilled to get in and out of there in under an hour...VACCINATION FREE!

We went in expecting a couple of boosters and a chicken pox vaccine, but were pleasantly surprised when we realized Grace is caught up until she is 2! Lots of parents these days are seriously anti-vaccine (hey! thanks for bringing back measles, folks!), but we definitely aren't on that train. It seems like a lot of people have come to fear the vaccine more than they have the illness they are preventing. I'm well aware of the ~~disproved~~ autism theory and have read mountains of paperwork on the possible side effects. Having personally heard the story of my Mom's experience with measles as a child, I'm going to stick with the shots. But hey, it's a personal decision, right?

More and more cases of measles are popping up here in Michigan, and Pertussis is back in full effect too. Being a fully vaccinated 20-something, I haven't had the pleasure of experiencing a seriously devastating (currently avoidable) epidemic like that of the 1950's Polio outbreak. From what I gather statistically, Polio wasn't a walk in that park and took many, many lives. Call me crazy, but eradicating this disease via vaccination seems like a pretty okay idea.

I fear that by the time Grace is school aged, the days of the "check your kid for lice" letters being sent home by administration will be replaced by "Mumps outbreak" bulletins. It seems a shame that something that could be prevented, has the possibility of making such a devastating comeback.

Like I said, each of us as parents has a choice on how we'd like to raise our kids. For Ryan and I, we couldn't live with ourselves if we felt like we weren't doing everything in our power to protect our little girl. I understand the thought behind raising children naturally and avoiding unnecessary medical treatment, but skipping out on vaccinations that have helped to keep my generation and my parent's generation well, seems a little bit ignorant. But to each their own.

Get up, we got a MOUSE

2012-02-28T21:18:00.002-08:00

"Get up, there is a mouse in the kitchen and it's trapped under the garbage can."

These are the words that woke me from my peaceful slumber this morning. I was panicked and still half dreaming and Ryan's eerie calm wasn't helpful. He spoke of the mouse the same way he'd mention that he'd grabbed the mail. He wasn't panicking and didn't really seem like the rodent who'd infiltrated our kitchen bothered him all that much. In case I haven't said it before, Ryan is definitely the composed one. I panic, he keeps his cool. He goes on to mention the mouse's little pink nose peeking out from under the trash can and tells me that "these things happen".

When I got down stairs, I could hear the little sucker messing about. He couldn't be big, as the space beneath the can is small, but he made his presence known. His menacing little scuffles suggested he was nothing short of a 6 pound sewer rat. Ryan assured me that that wasn't the case.

The first thing I did was ask him what the heck he expected me to do. I have zero experience in matters of extermination and have a mini panic attack when in close proximity to an ant hill. (Ask me about the fire ant attack of 2011. You'd be afraid too.) We managed to concoct a plan consisting of two important steps: #1. Lift garbage can. #2. Cover mouse with wicker basket.

At this point I felt pretty secure with plan of siege, but kept close to the stairs just in case I needed to make a quick escape to safe ground. Ryan knew I might dip out if things got dicey and I made it perfectly clear that I was totally freaked the f&*k out by squealing like a child every time he took a step near the can. Helpful, I know.

By the time Ryan made it to the can and slowly lifted it, I was already half up the stairs, ready to protect my child and I from the beast. Much to our surprise, there was nothing. We assumed the little sucker might be inside the can and thus grabbed the can and launched it onto the front porch. I can only hope our neighbors caught sight of this. If they weren't sure of us before, they might be a little freaked out now.

After beating the hell out of the can with a broom and giving the can a good shakedown, we found nothing. Could the bastard have made a quick escape while we were planning our attack or had he fled once we tossed the can outside? Was there a mouse at all? Was Ryan totally tripping out?!

And so, traps have been set and floors have been swept. We are crumb free and ready for Stuart Little to make another appearance. In the meantime, G and I will be be paroling the house looking for varmint, ready to pounce (or flee) when we see him. Next time, mouse - you're OURS.

Suck it up, cupcake.

2012-02-27T20:54:00.001-08:00

Well I'm officially back to work part time, decorating cakes at a place near us. First things first, I LOVE it. I've always loved decorating cakes and am absolutely thrilled to get back into the groove of it. Right now I'm only working a couple of days a week as this is their slow time of year, but am told it will pick up come springtime. I have mixed emotions on the whole working thing. To be honest, I'm happy to be working. But then again, I have a really difficult time pretending that what I've been doing over the past 18 months hasn't been working. For god sake people, being a Mama is the hardest job EVER.

As I've said a gazillion times before, Motherhood is the job that literally never stops. You're expected to have your head in the game 100% of the time, and if you drop the ball - things can go seriously wrong, and quick.

Needless to say, I've enjoyed my weekly "escape", if you will. I feel like I can actually accomplish something when I'm at work, without a toddling little girl following two steps behind me - Tasmanian deviling her way through the place. And it doesn't hurt to make a little extra cash too!

Every time I leave, I struggle with the guilt of leaving my little girl. Fortunately for us, Ryan is able to stay at home when I'm gone and vice versa, so she's always with a parent. But still, I feel awful leaving her behind. Luckily, this maternal guilt is usually fleeting and can be remedied by a nice cup of coffee and some peaceful NPR listening on the 10 minute drive to work. Oh, silence. How I've missed thee.

The best part of the new gig is coming home. I've said to Ryan on multiple occasions, that I envy his coming home ritual. He's always absolutely thrilled to see Grace and she is totally beside herself when "dada" walks in the door. As a stay at home mother, I hadn't really had a chance to miss her or be missed.

Now, I find myself racing home, barely able to wait to see my little lady. When I walk in she lights up and screams "mama!" in a way that suggests she'd been waiting for me all afternoon. We hug, we kiss, and she runs off to return to whatever mischief she'd left behind. I am fulfilled and Dad is tired.

And then, Grace explodes her diaper and punches me in the face and I'm ready to go back to work!

Vote for us!!!

Back Fat and Vomit Cologne

2012-02-24T22:25:00.002-08:00

There once was a time, before back fat and perpetual under eye bags, that I really felt rested. I had energy and ambition. In the days before I had a toddler planted on my hip, I wore perfume. Now I just radiate the smells of motherhood - shit, vomit, and spoiled milk.

It wasn't long ago, just over two years in fact, that the main focus in my life was me. Responsibility was minimal and freedom was abundant. I could sleep all day and stay out all night. I even faintly remember bitching about being bored.

Boredom isn't a luxury I often have these days. Grace is a frickin handful and keeps us perpetually on our toes. Morning, noon, night, and every waking second in between, Grace is going. Stuck at that unfortunate, albeit adorable, stage - Grace is able to do almost everything but can't articulate what she's after. This results in numerous power struggles. It's not that I don't want to give Grace whatever her little heart desires, I'm just not sure what "nene shhiiiit" is referring to.

Napping is a thing of the past; something Grace refuses to tolerate. Those precious few hours between lunch and dinner were an absolute necessity, not only for housework, but also my mental health. But Mama doesn't give up that easy. We still go upstairs every afternoon and lay her down with blankie, praying to GOD that she gives us an hour. It is now that Grace will "fake nap" and commence the creation of her afternoon shitastrophe. I'll spare you the image, although lord knows we've got one. Think shit. EVERYWHERE.

Come afternoon, I might actually get Grace to sit still, but only at the coaxing of apple juice and Yo Gabba. I usually take this opportunity to score some solid mother/daughter bonding time.

Here, I'm caught deflecting one of the numerous of the vicious toddler attacks I am subject to daily. Grace goes directly for the eyeballs, occasionally probing her little finger right up your nose. If I'm lucky the attack will be brief, Grace will tire and I will soak up the cuddles. And if I'm extra lucky, Grace will cover me in apple juice vomit just in time for DJ Lance's super music friend show.

Gone are the days of $100 perfume and smokey eye shadow. I'm lucky if I get a shower twice a week and every shirt I own has some sort of stain on it. Downy lavender dryer sheets are as close as I get to perfume, and a touch of carmex is all I've got time for. Is it all a pain in the ass? Kind of. But occasionally, Grace gives me a second. No crying or whining, vomit free, and without sticky hands. She'll look deep into my eyes and say "mama!", and give me a big old kiss. Moments like this make up for all of the above. :)

Diet Coke is making me FATTER!?!

2012-02-21T17:36:00.000-08:00

With spring on the horizon, one of the most ~~dreaded~~ difficult times of the year looms over me. Lent, aka, the longest 40 days of my life. As a Catholic, I annually observe this tradition, with varying degrees of success. Most years I choose something fairly easy to abstain from like ice cream or fried foods. But this year I've decided to give up something that has really become a staple in my life since becoming a mother. Diet. Frickin. Coke.

I would be a ~~big fat liar~~ fibbing a bit if I said I've always been successful in my Lenten endeavors. I usually make it about a week, then come up with a piss poor excuse on why I deserve . But this year I'm determined to be successful. Word on the street (aka those jerks from the FDA) is that Diet Coke might be totally awful for you. I've read numerous articles on Aspartame poisoning and am pretty sure I'm down with the sickness. And to add further insult to injury, I've also read that people who drink Diet Coke are 41% heavier than those who drink regular soda. Well f#&K me. So much for the whole diet thing.

And so tonight I will bid adieu to my dear friend Diet Coke the only way I know how to - slammin the remainder of a 12 pack by candlelight.

It's 3 o'clock in the morning..

2012-02-20T00:07:00.000-08:00

I'd be lying if I said the sound of a shrieking toddler anytime after 11pm, wasn't like nails on a chalkboard. Few things are as unfortunate as the bedtime "fake out", and tonight - that is exactly what Grace served up.

As with most mothers, the daily nap and a reasonable bedtime are critical for my mental health. No nap isn't necessarily a huge problem, but an overtired toddler who refuses to hit the hay at bedtime ... makes Mama want to punch holes in walls.

But tonight was different. Grace woke up howling something wicked, with buckets of snot and tears running hither and yon. What started as a simple tuck in and "little girls need to go to sleep" pep talk, carried over into a 3am cuddle session and a delightful viewing of the Netflix classic "Turtle: The Incredible Journey". And let me tell you, it was incredible.

As Grace cuddled with me, she watched intently as the turtles on TV waddling their way to the sea. I realized right then just how long it had been since G really let me hold her. Grace has been on the move from 9 months old and has wanted little to do with snuggling and everything to do with mischief. I don't often have time to reflect on how far we've come and how much Grace has grown, but tonight - I really felt it. As I rocked my little girl, smelling her sweet hair and kissing her soft little ears, I realized my little turtle isn't so little anymore.

As with most moments of childhood, this one was fleeting, and before long Grace was off. Grace went back to bed (with a few more tears and a bit more snot) and Ryan and I sat up, pretty amazed at the little girl we'd both created.

Moments like that are what make sleepless nights, ~~stretch marks~~, and tired mornings really worth while. Being able to comfort my daughter in the middle of the night and share those special few minutes with her, fill my heart with a love that only Grace can conjure.

The Next Bob Ross

2012-02-16T17:22:00.000-08:00

For me, one of the most exciting things about Grace growing up is being able to 'craft' with her. I LOVE all things creative and was psyched when I found this toddler finger paint recipe on Pinterest!!

Toddler Finger Paint

1/2 c. Cornstarch, 1/2 tsp. Salt, 2 c. Water, 3 tbs. Sugar, food coloring, vanilla (optional)

Mix all ingredients in sauce pan over medium heat

Stir til' thick

Divide mixture into several cups

Add food coloring and MIX! Let the fun begin!

a taste here..a taste there..

Grace's first fridge art!

All in all, this was an awesome toddler activity, followed up by a seriously thorough bath!

Weight Watchers GO!

2012-02-16T12:41:00.000-08:00

And so it begins, day one of "Lost The Baby Weight, 2 Years Later" challenge. I'm going to give Weight Watchers a try and cross my fingers that I don't fall victim to any 2am Taco Bell runs. I've set my "weekly commitments" reasonably and I'm feeling pretty motivated!

But just in case I start to feel a little "snacky", I found a pair of super tiny white capri pants that I used to fit into to use as my "thin-spiration". Must. Get. Ass. In. Pants! So far so good!


seems reasonable, right?!

2012-02-09T19:16:00.000-08:00

Dear Grace,

You're officially 17 months old and today, you drew blood. An innocent shopping trip turned bio-hazard, nearly brought us both to tears. Long story short, in what felt like a nano second, you unbuckled the shopping cart belt and pulled yourself to standing - using my bottom lip for support. Its days like today that have me wondering if those "terrible twos" came a little early.

Don't take it personally, but you're driving us a little crazy. It has been discovered that your favorite new hobby involves electric outlet covers. You think its the bomb to sneak around and unplug them and then hide them in various nooks and crannies. You're a real jokester, Grace. Hey Safety 1st - thanks for nothin'!

In other news, you've had your first little taste of discipline this week, following yet another electric socket . As much as I hate to scold you, I think its less aggressive than the electrocution your cruising for if this new hobby of yours keeps up. I absolutely hate to get stern with you and try desperately to avoid it if possible. You have an epic frown face that you seem to save specifically for our little discipline sessions. It is safe to say that neither of us leave happy after these episodes. You cry from the playpen and I sneak off to the bathroom and cry, too.

I'm really hoping that this will go down in the record books as one of those 'i might die if it stays this tough' days - but I'm preparing for the worst. The good news, you've yet to be electrocuted and you're still all smiles, scolding or not. Even on the most hellish ~~weeks~~ days, we wouldn't trade you for the world. We love you, G.

Love,
Mama

Wordless(ish) Wednesday

2012-02-08T16:34:00.000-08:00

This has got to be one of my favorite pictures of Grace, EVER. Taken on an old cell phone, several months ago - this picture goes into the "priceless" collection. With an attitude like this, she is definitely her Mother's daughter.

Punch Motherhood in the FACE

2012-02-06T21:08:00.000-08:00

Days like today make me want to lock myself in the bathroom and scream - indefinitely. You know the type. One epic fail after another.

Grace has hit the so called "terrible twos" a little early. She is into absolutely everything and has morphed into a pint sized wrecking ball. She's constantly falling over or running head first into walls. The daily wound count has grown exponentially, and it has become rather exhausting.

Today's injury was at the hands of a Dora the Explorer lawn chair.   It was discovered that Grace loved the toddler sized chairs at a Super Bowl party over the weekend, and needless to say - we went right out to Toys R' Us and bought her one of her own.

While we were there, we picked up a few other little things for G - mainly play food and little girl accessories (man does this kid love to accessorize). The chair seemed like a perfect addition to our ~~spoiled~~ little girls mountain of playthings, until she decided to multitask.   Obviously there was no time for photography, but I'll set the scene for you. Grace sitting on chair, reaching far stage left for her pretend chicken leg (girl likes her chicken), and takes a nasty tumble, literally landing between and rock (toy rock) and a hard place (wall). I hurry to her aid and speak the couple words that always seem to make things worse. "You're okay...".   Grace freaks.

The next hour involved hugs and kisses, frozen mixed veggies, and a whole lot of Yo Gabba Gabba. After a half an hour of icing the goose egg, Grace was back in the game. Three seconds later, count them THREE, Grace hears the next episode of Gabba queuing up and whips her head around too quick for her own good - making a seriously unfortunate connection between the left side of her head and the wall. Round two - crying, icing, gabba...

The remainder of the night was spend watching for excessive sleepiness and spontaneous digestive upset (a la concussion), but fortunately things seemed okay.

The worry associated with mothering a toddler is insurmountable. Sometimes it takes all I have not to bang my head into the wall. Nothing feels quite as nice as seeing your slightly scuffed up toddler sleeping peacefully in her crib, finally safe and still. It's evenings like this that Pino Grigio tastes the sweetest.

Queen of the HALF-CRAFTS

2012-02-03T21:53:00.000-08:00

If whipping up half scarfs or accidental pot holders were an Olympic event, I'd dominate. Sadly, it is not. The fact is - I'm a sucky crafter.

I've always been a lover of creative arts. In fact, I'm inclined to say that I excel at matters of the arts. My projects are often ambitious and usually incorporate more skill than I comfortably possess. What has sparked my sudden Exibit A. - - and B. - - - and C.

half wreath

half sweater

soon to be half poncho

In addition to the above half-sies, I've got half an afghan, two half scarfs, and a host of "started as something else" potholders - scattered about my house. Why you ask? Put simply, I suffer from crafter's ADD. I'll often troll for my next big craft, while still finishing up my current one. This obviously isn't working. And lord knows, Pinterest doesn't help. ::sigh::

I am a work in progress, diligently picking up where I left off on last weeks projects, and vowing that I won't start another til' I finish the last.

But even with half projects and craft abominations strewn about, there is a silver lining. Grace has a pony tail!! (next project - hair accessories?!)