Walking

Brooke has officially started to take steps on her own.  She still can't stand up or turn without holding on. So, she waits for someone to pick her up onto her feet and then starts to walk like a drunken Frankenstein's monster.  One arm up in a V, other arm straight out to the side, legs far apart, and a huge smile on her face. She takes a few steps and then falls down laughing.  She is so proud of her new trick.  At the playground she is Evel Knievel.  She has no regard for where I am and hitch crawls all over the place.  She enjoys crawling up stairs and hurling herself face first down the slides.  She has just started to hold the railings to practice walking up and down the stairs.  She has obviously not read the childhood development books where walking up and especially down stairs comes after learning to walk alone on flat earth.  I also got a flashback of stories my mother told me about my youth when Brooke crawled up a few stairs and then stood up, turned around, and started to just walk right off the top step.  I was across the room and had to sprint to catch her before she went down hard onto her head.  I guess the curse worked mom, thanks.

Charlotte is doing very well now that her parents are behaving better.  We had gotten into a bad habit of pushing off bedtime and sitting with her to watch about 20 to 30 minutes of t.v. each night before bed.  She was having a harder and harder time behaviorally during the day and when we could not figure out what was wrong with her, we started looking at what was wrong with us.  Turns out we are lazy and it was affecting her.  So now, her parents are doing a better job of keeping on a *gasp* schedule at night and getting Charli her dinner, bath (sometimes), pajamas, teeth brushed, and to sleep by 7:30 on a good night and by 8:00 on a not so good night.  Life is better, more structured and a little rushed, but better.  She is such a good girl, she makes us proud every day.  She shows so much self-awareness and restraint at times it is amazing.  Without our input, she has said "no thank-you" to helping our upstairs neighbor walk her dogs when we were eating dinner and when we were on a video call with her grandparents, she also turned down a candy cane when she had already had a small one that day.  Every once in a while she makes us feel that we are doing an alright job by her.  I am sure her therapist will someday relieve us of that delusion, but for now...

Sleeping like a baby

I have been thinking (and fantasizing) a lot about sleep over the last few months.  Brooke has been teething and evidently teething and sleeping are not compatible.  She is up at least three times a night and can't get herself back to sleep when she is in pain.  Even when she is asleep, she doesn't want to be alone and is quite unhappy when she is put back into her crib.  Therefore, Brooke is sleeping in our bed at least a quarter of every night.  Then there is Charlotte.  She has never slept well.  She snores, tosses and turns, and has nightmares, and also prefers to sleep with others.  So, she ends up in our bed at least once a week.  Sometimes we play a huge game of musical beds in the middle of the night.  Charli has a nightmare and comes into our room.  She climbs between us and goes back to sleep.  Then, Brooke gets up and cries, I help her back to sleep but she won't go into her bed.  I don't have the energy or desire for a 3 am fight and so I bring her into Charli's bed with me.  Now Jeff is the only one in the right bed, but we are all sleeping so that is what is important, right?

With all of this co-sleeping (which, by the way, before we had Charli, we swore we would never do and couldn't believe people allowed this to occur), we noticed that Charli was having a hard time breathing at night.  She seemed to be working really hard to get air through her nose.  It would get worse and worse until she moved, opened her mouth, and gasped for air.  Then she would close her mouth and start all over again.  This lead to a discussion with her pediatrician, a visit to an ear, nose, and throat specialist, a few visits to my Chiropractor, and a sleep study.  Charli and I went to a hotel where one floor was dedicated to the UCSF Sleep Center.  Charli was hooked up to about 30 wires that were taped onto her body and cemented onto her head, a nasal cannula was placed in her nose and she was told to go to sleep.  She wasn't convinced.  She finally slept and I sort of slept on a cot next to her all night.  So far, it seems that the chiropractic has helped to open her sinuses and reduced her snoring.  The sleep study was negative (whew!).  We still need to have the follow up with the ENT, who may still suggest getting Charli's boulder-like tonsils out.  I am just happy to know she is getting enough oxygen at night and is not killing off all of her lovely brain cells in her sleep.

Speaking of sleeping, I am going to go do that right now.  At least until someone wakes me up again.  Goodnight.

What Was I Thinking?!?

Well, here it is.  11:00 pm on the night before Charli's birthday and Star Wars birthday party and I am frantically crossing things off my "To Do" list.  Some I am crossing off because I finished them.  However, a vast majority more I am crossing off because I have run out of time to do them.  Now, no one who really knows me will be surprised, but, I have let time get away from me.  I had lofty goals for this party and have fallen short.  Thankfully, the only one who will know how short I fell from my vision is me.   And Jeff I suppose.  Making our home into outer space is partially complete with star spangled black backdrop decorated with stars and planets cut from Charli's artwork.  Tatuine (in the form of a sandbox with moon sand) arrived this week and will be placed in the backyard.  Smaller than I had planned, but here none the less.  Hoth planet (an ice planet, I have been told) will probably not make an appearance unless I name our beverage ice bucket Hoth.  Hmm, not a bad idea actually.  Lightsabers (pool noodles cut in 1/3 and Duct Taped for handles) complete with children's names on them.  Cake?, food?, plates? beverages?... non-existent.  I had planned (and have the ingredients for) a double chocolate layer cake with raspberry filling and chocolate ganache.  Yum!  This cake was then supposed to have fondant stars and lightsabers on top made from cake, ice cream cones, and sugar sprinkles.  Sounds great, huh?  We will never know.  I had planned to bake all day today.  Unfortunately, I forgot that I have two children who really like my attention and a very dirty house.  Instead, we spent the day cleaning and taking care of the kids.  Oh, and I forgot to mention that for Charli's birthday, we invited her best friend, Stella for a sleepover.  Stella is 3 years old and has never spent the night away from her family before.  Not surprisingly, she had a hard time getting to sleep and wanted her mommy.

So, to recap.  For today, I had planned to: bake a cake and decorate it like a pro, go to the store to finish picking up party supplies, go to another store to pick up the food for the party, cook a nutritious and delicious meal for my family, entertain a second 3 year old and create another sleeping space for her, take care of an infant who doesn't appreciate being put down, clean the house, decorate the house, and finish a few art projects for the party.  Thus the title of this blog entry.  What the @#&$ was I thinking?  Oh well, all three girls are asleep (and so is Jeff).  It is time to call it a night and start again tomorrow.  I will surely be up early.  Brooke is my little 6 am alarm clock.  She has an amazing internal clock, maybe she is Swiss.

Paper Airplanes and Raspberries

Brooke and Charli keep growing and changing before my eyes.  Charli is getting quite good at making paper airplanes.  She likes to find any piece of paper, no matter the size and fold it quickly into a flying machine.  She then leaves them all over the house while she runs off to play with something else.  She is constantly being distracted by, well, everything.  Poor thing comes by it naturally, as anyone who knows me can attest to.  Why is it that all your worst qualities are inherited and mirrored back to you by your offspring?  Well, I guess that some of our good traits are present, but we are probably just so attuned to things we dislike or would like to change about ourselves.  So, Charlotte has inherited the dimple in her right cheek, her hazel eyes, her full lower lip with the dent in the middle, her outgoing personality, her sense of humor, her desire to be the center of attention, her difficulty finishing anything in a timely manner, and her temper. I am personally to blame for the last two, alright, three.

Brooke is still dragging herself around the house on her stomach.  She is pretty fast and can go distance with this method.  She gets up on her hands and knees and rocks then launches herself onto her stomach and starts dragging.  I am unsure if she will crawl.  I will put forth my best effort to get her there, as I am a believer that crawling helps children with their motor skills and maybe even their learning.  She just learned two days ago how to sit herself up and she is very impressed with her new trick.  Her other new trick is blowing raspberries.  She puts her little lips together and starts to blow, then she sticks her little tongue out between her lips and voila.  Noise and spit, good times.  She pulled herself to stand on the crossbar under the kitchen table today for the first time.  Well, the first time she pulled to stand was on a cooler in the kitchen two weeks ago.  Charli quickly moved the cooler and Brooke toppled over.  She did not try to pull up again.  Of course, I gave Charli a lecture while secretly thanking her for putting off the inevitable.  Well, she pulled up again today and was quite proud of herself.  Brooke is such a good, happy baby.  She likes people, can entertain herself for a little while, and loves to eat.  We have really been blessed with two wonderful little people in our lives.

Humor and Pride

Charli makes us laugh all of the time.  She says the funniest things, when she isn't trying to be funny.  She has realized that making people laugh is good.  Being funny and liking being the center of attention is in her genes.  Unfortunately, 3 year old humor is really just that... funny for 3 year olds.  We have already had multiple conversations with her about how other kids will think the silly things she does are hilarious, but that adults won't.  She doesn't quite get it.  But, she does accidently keep us in stitches.  This weekend Jeff was running in the San Francisco Marathon and was talking to Charlotte about it.
"Are you going to win the race?"
"Well, no.  I will be happy just to finish the race.  The race is very long and I have never run that far before."
"Has the other guy run that far before?"
'Well, there aren't going to be just two of us, there will be lots and lots of people running the race."
"Oh, you should start in the front"

Brooke is growing so fast, I can hardly keep up.  She is growing out of her 6 to 9 month clothes, she sits quite well on her own, she commando crawls quite quickly (mostly right arm and left leg doing all the work), and she is getting her first tooth (bottom left).  She is also showing pride.  I had not really thought about being proud of yourself starting so early, but she is just that.  Last Friday, she clapped her little hands for the first time.  She held her left hand still and moved her right hand in and out to slap those meaty little palms together.  She looked mildly surprised, then began to smile, and then smiled up at me and showed me her new move again.  She does the same thing when I sit her on the potty.  Push, pee, big gummy grin.  Occasionally she claps for herself, when she is especially moved by her accomplishment.

Dazed and Confused

I used to have the most enviable night life of any new mother I knew.  When Brooke was two weeks old, she began to sleep through the night.  I would put her to bed at 9 pm and she would sleep soundly till at least 3:30 am.  Sometimes she would make it till 5.  I was getting a full night's sleep every night and could not fathom why everyone said two children was sooo much harder than one.  Don't get me wrong, it was a lot of work, but I had not become the deranged lunatic I remember being in Charli's first few months.  And then.... Brooke turned 4 months old and stopped sleeping.  I went from getting 5 to 7 straight hours of sleep to not getting more than two hours in a row.  Some nights, I get to see each and every hour on the clock.  Ahhhhh, there is the homicidal maniac I remember being.  It is amazing how much sleep affects my ability to cope with, well, everything.  I find myself yelling, and apologizing, much more to Charli these days.  I get overly upset when Brooke cries and then realize that she really doesn't cry much and usually only for good reason.  I also find myself standing in the midst of chaos in my house, struck impotent, with zero ability to figure out what to do.  I don't seem to have the ability to remember things, or to find the words to describe things to others.  I am doing a lot more pointing, grunting, and pantomiming to get my point across.  The house is also getting dirtier by the day.  I can only seem to get one type of cleaning thing done a day and unfortunately there more than 7 things to clean in the house.  I am realizing that a small house can be a really desirable thing.

Another reason a small house is good is that now Brooke is really moving faster and is trying to get onto her hands and knees.  Once she figures out how to balance on all fours we are in trouble.  I am considering getting a baby cage.  One of those fences that can be put up in a circle to corral my little explorer, and to keep my big explorer, or more importantly her toys, out.  I am realizing that somehow, my 3 year old is equipped with enough small parts to choke 10 infants.  Stickers falling from her clothing, wood chips from her shoes, rubberbands, clips, and coins.  That doesn't even take her small parted toys into account.  It is a wonder her sister has survived long enough to make me the sleep deprived monster I am today.  Every once in a while, through the haze and delirium, I notice my girls.  Really notice them.  Notice how small Charlotte still is, notice how helpless Brooke still is.  Notice the beautiful curves of both my girls faces.  Notice Charli's high pitched voice repeating things in an angry tone that is frighteningly familiar.  All of these things help me through the fog, help me break out of the self-pity and help me remember that these moments (the good and the not so great) are all fleeting.  That these girls are only this old for the blink of an eye and that I need to savor the moments.  Also, I remember that no matter how sleep starved I am, that I am still the adult in the house and that these girls are looking to me to understand the world and how to act.  I continue on my journey of parenthood and my daughters continue to teach me the way.

Cranky and Crusty

I went to a bread baking class the other day with my friend Marcia.  Jeff thought it was a silly thing to do, but he has since been graced with homemade pizza, fresh pita with hummus, and today I made my first sour artisan bread.  We ate half the round before dinner.  It turned out beautifully, if I do say so myself.  Charli has been excitedly helping me in the kitchen during this adventure as well.  She loves to help.  Most of the time I love it, sometimes it is just more work for me.  I have to think of ways for her to feel she is doing something without allowing her to mess up the recipe.  Yesterday, she helped me pour the ingredients I measured, and she helped to stir the dough after I had gotten the dough to start to form.  Today, she helped by opening the oven when I put the dough in and took the dough out.  She is such a bright little girl, she wants to do everything herself, but unfortunately I can't relinquish control.  I either want the recipe to come out and don't want to chance her measuring skills, I don't want too big of a mess to clean up, or I remember that she is only 3 years old and she really can't do everything she wants to.  She is still innocent enough to be honest though.  Today, she told Jeff that she is not supposed to get into Brooke's swing.  Then she whispered, "but I do".

Brooke is now on the move.  We put her in the middle of the living room and she rolls, kicks, spins, and drags herself until she is across the room and trying to get at something that can kill her.  I have not figured out why all babies are suicidal, but they all are attracted to electricity and things they can choke on.  Brooke will drag herself past all her toys to get under the table that holds the television components so she can pull and chew on the wires.  She is flat out refusing to allow me my favorite baby phase.  The one where they sit, smile, interact, and stay put.  She gives huge smiles and will surely interact with anyone who will give her attention, but she does not yet sit for more than a few seconds, and she will not stay put.  She is very cute though, and constantly makes me fall in love with her all over again.  Which is good, because, I don't allow just anyone to wake me up multiple times and manipulate me all night long. The time has come according to Brooke's doctor, my friend, and my mother, to put Brooke in her own room to help her sleep through the night.  I am almost ready for that experiment.  First, I have to clean out all of the boxes we are storing in the crib.  Then, I need a good night's sleep.  I think that if only I could get a full night's sleep, I might be ready to tackle this sleep training thing.

Going on a Field Trip

I am taking Charli on her field trip this week with her school.  She is so excited.  She usually is not at school on field trip days, so I take her on the ones I can so she doesn't miss out.  She enjoys them very much.  Her favorite part is riding on the big yellow school bus.  She thinks it is great that she can sit alone and not be in a car seat.  This seems to be a consensus with all of the preschoolers.  It seems that the field trips could be reduced to a bus ride to nowhere and the children would all be ecstatic.  The strangest part is that these are all city kids.  They probably all ride on the city buses or trains fairly often, but the power of being big enough to sit alone is that huge for a three year old.  With this in mind, I was prepping Charlotte for this next field trip.  We are going to Angel Island State Park, a beautiful island in the bay to the north of San Francisco.  Our conversation went like this:
Me - "I am looking forward to the field trip this week.  We are going to an island in the middle of the bay, so we are going to take the ferry."
Charli - "We get to ride on a ferry?"
"Yes, isn't that exciting?"
"Yes, it is. Are my friends going to ride a ferry too?"
"Yes, we are all going on the ferry"
"Is there a very big ferry?  Big enough to carry all of my friends?"
"Yes, the ferry is big enough for all your friends at school"
"I didn't even know there were really such things as ferries."
.... "Um, Charli, did you think I said fairy?"
"Yes"
So now I have a lovely mental image of Charlotte, me, and all her little school friends flying over the bay on the back of an overly large fairy.  After that, a boat ride on a rusty barge might be a bit of a let down.  Charlotte has had a tough time with my return to work.  She was thrilled when Brooke was born and loves her without bounds.  I kept waiting for her to complain or act out toward her, but that hasn't happened.  She started preschool right after her sister came and I was concerned that it may be too much change at once.   But, that went swimmingly as well.  I didn't even consider my going back to work to be a life changing event for her.  Evidently I was wrong.  It seems to be the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.  Everything is a little harder for her and she is acting out in new and creative ways.  She now cries in the mornings when I leave for work and asks me not to go, or at least to drop her off at school myself rather than letting our babysitter do it.  She has found a new penchant for drawing on things (her wooden train tracks, a friend's floor, books, tables).  This has resulted in a strict marker,  crayon, and paint restriction for two weeks.  She is finding new ways to say no and has settled this week on a disdainful "nope" when asked to do things.  But, we are fighting our way back to normalcy.  We have lots of talks, I take lots of deep breaths, and I am trying to spend good quality time with her each day.  I try to squeeze some quality time for Brooke in there as well.  She luckily has some q.t. built in as long as I am nursing.  Some of my favorite parts of the day are giggling with Charli and talking to her to find out about her day at school, and nursing Brooke and having that moment to rub the soft hair on her round head and look deep into her eyes as she smiles up at me.

The job is great, but the hours suck!

This weekend has been fabulous... by day.  The weather has been San Francisco at it's best.  Warm and sunny with a slight breeze.  Going on long walks with the kids, taking Charli for bike rides around the neighborhood, going to the park, and having barbecues with friends.  Jeff's brother, Bill, has come to visit and Charlotte is so happy.  She loves fresh meat to coerce into playing games and reading to her for hours. Our nights, however, have not been so idyllic.  

Brooke used to be a great sleeper.  She was sleeping 5 to 7 hours straight every night from two weeks of age.  (much to the jealousy of my friends with young children)  Unfortunately, she has recently remembered that she is, in fact, a baby.  For the past few weeks her sleeping stretches have declined steadily, and my sleep, and fuse length have disappeared along with them.  Last night was the worst so far, with Brooke's internal timer set at 20 minutes.  I got to see 12 am, 12:20 am, 12:40 am, 1 am, and on and on, until 3 am.  Just when I was trying to figure out which of us was going to live through the night, her timer was reset to about 1 1/2 hours.  Better, but only by comparison.  During our every 20 minute break from that pesky state of slumber, Charli woke and needed moral support in the bathroom.  Then she came into our bed where she performed somersaults and other acrobatic feats that ended with her kicking me square in the face.  That didn't go over well with the sleep deprived mommy who then growled "head on the pillow, feet down, or GET OUT!".  She immediately obeyed, but also whispered groggily "mommy, we don't yell".  She always knows the best way to bring me back to my senses and make me feel awful at the same time.  Many days, I don't know who is parenting who.  Sometimes I feel sorry for my kids that they have to be the guinea pigs for my parenting experiment.  Much of the time I feel the experiment is going quite well.  Sometimes, its a train wreck.  I can only hope they will forgive and (even better) forget my missteps.  Just like I will forget the pain of childbirth, the sleepless nights, and the fact that I ever wanted to throw my children out of a window.

"Can we get a dog?"

This is what Charlotte wanted to know today.  She loves dogs and until today has always thought our neighbors dogs were hers, too.  Which was great in our opinion, she gets to play with a dog sometimes and we don't have to take care of one.  We have no intention of getting pets anytime soon, if ever.  So when Charli asked today why we didn't have a dog, I valiantly tried "we do, we have two, Barney and Wilber" (our upstairs neighbor Tamar's dogs).  She retorted with "well, we need three or four dogs and one needs to live here with us".  So, I backpedal into simple explanations.  "We can't have a dog Charlotte.  Dogs are like babies; they need lots of love, and attention, and to be fed, and walked, and played with, and bathed, and cleaned up after.  We already have TWO creatures in this house that need all of that and we don't need more right now."  "So..." says the toddler thinking, "If we don't have Brooke, can we have a dog?"

Illness Falls

Charli has been sick with a fever for the past few days.  It is so sad to see your child in pain, and it is certainly a challenge to entertain a child who can't go to school, leave the house, or be around other kids but who wants to play.  We spent today doing a craft project, painting, cooking, and folding laundry together.  Then I happened to see the inside of her mouth!  There was white/grey fuzzy stuff on both sides of her throat.  Probably not good.  So, being the mother of the year that I am, I opened my computer and tried to find pictures of tonsillitis to see if it looked like the moldy bread in Charlotte's throat.  Sure enough, I found a picture that looked just like her gullet.  Now, I guessed it was time to call the doctor.  She seems to be feeling just fine now and hasn't had a fever since last night.  However, she still looks like a nightmare in her mouth.  We will know more tomorrow after seeing the doc.  So far Brooke has escaped the illness.  Charli loves her little sister so much.  She just wants to hug her, and kiss her, and generally slobber germs all over her.  Charlotte has been so good and has been playing lots of peek-a-boo with Brooke since she can do that at a distance.  She loves to make her baby sister laugh and channels the slapstick of the Three Stooges to make that baby smile.  She will jump around, prat fall, pull faces, and generally make a fool of herself for the amusement of her baby sister.  Brooke is happy to watch the action and will laugh hysterically enough of the time to make the effort worthwhile for Charlotte.  I try to capture the moments of laughter on film so that the girls can see themselves as they were and so I can listen to the most amazing sound in the world over, and over, forever.

Going Back to Work

A mixed blessing for sure. When I am home with my children all week, I sometimes yearn for a moment to myself without screaming, crying, negotiations about every little task.  At work, I am my own person, on my own time, and my own schedule, talking with adults (occasionally) and being an adult (mostly).  Yet, I miss my babies.  Their laughs, smiles, hugs, and kisses play in my head luring me home.  Moments of quietly snuggling, reading books, dancing, and singing together are the stuff that dreams are made of.  Those times are enough to make you forget the back breaking, hair pulling, insanity of actually raising them.

The Reasons Why

I have decided to set up this blog to help me cement the emotions, thoughts, musings, and feelings that go along with raising children. Looking at my 3 year old, I wonder how I missed the moment when she became her own fully fledged little person. Seeing my 4 month old grow, I am trying to photograph each moment in my mind's eye. Trying to hold on tightly to the pure joy of watching her smile and laugh for the first time, the sweet smell of a newborn's head, and the warm weight of a tiny body sleeping on yours. Sadly, I already know I am failing. I am already forgetting what she looked like in her first weeks of life, forgetting the sounds she made, and losing the images of her body curled into itself into a perfect fetal position. I have already begun mourning the loss of my "baby", because I know what is to come. They will both continue to grow and change, and I will merely be swept along in their wake. Helpless to stop their momentum of development, and yet conspiring with it to help it continue as smoothly as possible. As it should be. However, that offers me no comfort when I think of the wonderful moments I am letting slip through my fingers and out of my memory like water. So here I am in a last ditch effort to preserve each and every precious moment, every hilarious thing that comes out of their mouths, and probably even a little of the insanity that goes along with being a mother.