Humpday

Wednesday and counting down to girls weekend....here's my life right now in bits and pieces until I have time again to write...

Daily posts

Ok. I've been working, living, trying to manage. But now its time to reconnect. so here it goes. Daily posts of whatever I have. One liners.

Todays post: pictures only.

Chaos

When you have kids Chaos is just part of the norm. It's taken me a long time to get used to it. Now I'm working on the next level, enjoying it. It seems almost insane to say that I'm trying to enjoy Chaos, because it's like saying you want to enjoy a tornado, but for me this is something I know I have in me to do. I know there is an adventuresome spirit inside me that loves the craziness of a full life. The problem is my life is so full, it's spilling over the edges. For example yesterday morning: Husband was in the bedroom doing a work out video. The bedroom door was open and he was also periodically running throughout the house to use a pull up bar he had attached to the kitchen door frame, as well as a chair he was using in the hallway (don't ask). This video lasted for an hour and a half. We would occasionally see sweaty Husband bypass us in the hallway grunting while doing push ups or hanging from the kitchen doorway doing pull ups. While this was happening 3 year old was crawling around on hands and knees with a dog toy in his mouth pretending to be a puppy. Simultaneously to all this, our actual 80 pound puppy is running back and forth from the back patio into the house with a gallop and speed of a dressage horse. I do my rounds while I tidy up, checking on all the males in my home in their personal realms of Chaos when I realize that the dog has not only found the neighbors doormat to shred into pieces, but has also pushed their front door open and is about to wander inside when I catch him. This is the type of Chaos I'm talking about. 

Now something I've realized in this learning process is that it never lasts too long. My tolerance is still not high enough yet to outlast the Chaos, but I'm working on it. Knowing when to hold em, fold em, or walk away has been optimal to the learning process. It all kind of comes in waves, and if you can just hang on, eventually you will be lifted up and out to dry land. Like right now for instance; I'm happily typing away on our new lap top, while the dog is laying in a sunny spot on the patio, 3 year old is in his room playing by himself and Husband is doing laundry. So there is beauty in all of this, it's just about having the patience to get there. Phew, and I'll tell ya-I'm not sure I'm gonna make it, but at least I'm trying.

Demon spawn

Last night around 2:30am I dreamt that a door was opening and closing, opening and closing. There was this never ending cycle, a relentless opening and closing of a single door. I've been going through some major transitions in my life-new job beginning in a week from now, old job ending. A new life starting after 8 years. These types of dreams are pretty normal for me. My brain is very Freudian and obvious in most ways. When I graduated high school I dreamt every night for a month that my teeth were falling out. 

I was awakened from this opening and closing door dream to the sound of Husband exclaiming: "What the hell?!" I suddenly realized that the opening and closing of a door was not a dream, but was coming from the house, our house, inside our house. Husband got up to investigate. I figured if someone should be killed by a murderer opening and slamming a door, it was best that it was Husband and not me. 

It turned out to be our 3 year old. He had left his bedroom for the first time in the middle of the night! He is a baby no more. It's been a while since we changed him over from his crib to his big boy bed. It's also been a while since we took the fancy door handle that he couldn't open from inside his room off, and yet this was the first time he felt the need to leave his room in the middle of the night to explore the nocturnal world. Why now we wondered? His first adventure in this new world consisted of standing outside his bedroom, opening and slamming his bedroom door. It all felt very confusing at the time. Husband suspects that after 3 year old decided to leave his room that he wanted to be tidy about it, so he promptly shut the door after himself. Unfortunately the door to his bedroom doesn't always shut properly, so Husband figures he was slamming it over and over trying to get it to latch. 

In my 2am stupor I came to the the private conclusion that 3 year old was probably possessed by some ghost devil in our house like one of those creepy children from a horror movie. The movie you tell yourself not to watch, and then when you do, it sticks with you for the rest of your life and you can never quite look at twins the same way with out grimacing. You see, I am terrified of 3 year leaving his room at night. Not because I am worried that my baby will get hurt exploring the house alone without being supervised, but because the thought of stumbling upon a 2 and half foot tall person in the hallway when I am trying to find my way to pee in the dark seems horrifying to me for some reason. Chalk it up to too many scary movies I suppose.

When I ask Husband what 3 year wanted he simply said: "he wanted milk". What? Was he going to get it himself? Was he on his way to come get us? We will never know. As Husband climbed back into bed at the wee hours of the morning he sighed " and thus it begins..." I couldn't help but wonder if he meant a ritual haunting of our house and that we should probably busy ourselves hooking up prison style cameras in every room, or the fact that this was probably the beginning of 3 year old entering our room while we slept to demand various liquids to drink at odd hours.

25 things

I learned about myself in recent years:

1. I like rules, even as a young punk rock girl I struggled with the concept of anarchy, it never sat well with me.

2. I like things to be neat and tidy-This is a sticking point between me and Husband because he is a neat freak and I am not, but I still really truly do like for things to be organized!

3. I'm an introvert. This explains a lot about my life, and I wish I had known this personality type had a name, and what that name really meant years and years ago.

4. I like that I am different then most people-it's been a long road of acceptance, but I came to the end of it and really relished what I found.

5. I love gossip and I'm OK with that.

6. I'm high maintenance, which to me means: I know what I want.

7. I can chose what I like quickly. Unlike most people I have a gift for seeing what I like instantly and feeling confident that it is the right choice for me.

8. I love eating and will always love eating, and will forever have to watch what I eat because I love eating so much!

9. I really enjoy TV. In maybe an unhealthy way, and I'm also OK with that. I probably wouldn't make it without cable TV, and I don't ever ever want to try.

10. I LOVE to cook and I'm good at it, mostly because I can follow instructions (recipes) well.

11. I'm an athlete. If you had told me this in college, I would have laughed.

12. It will never get easier for me to be a parent. I will always worry my face off every day.

13. I like diets and exercise just as much as I hate them. I'm a little bit of a masochist like that.

14. I dislike change in a deep gut churning kind of way, but I'm able to get over it.

15. I'm good at being a wife, I never expected this, but it naturally suits me.

16. I have an uncanny ability of remembering what clothes people wore. Like an idiot savant I can tell you what everyone in my office was wearing yesterday in detail. It wasn't until recently that I realized other people can't do this.

17. I like to teach people, just about whatever stuff I know that they seem interested in learning.

18. I have really bad posture, I'm working on it.

19. I'm not awesome when I am not familiar in a situation. This is another fun trait of being an introvert.

20. I really like when I am the best at stuff.

21. I love routine and feel in my prime when I have steady solid routines in my life.

22. It takes me a long time to trust and love, I don't give my heart away... unless you're Ryan Gosling, and in that case- TAKE IT, NOW!

23. I'm not as vain as I used to be, but I will always be a Diva.

24. I'm not as cool as I used to be, and I'm growing to accept this. As long as I'm not wearing Mom jeans I feel like it's gonna be alright.

25. The older I get, the less I want to live in a big city.

Best friends

This weekend we had a play date with Three Year Olds best friend. This will be the second play date for the boys outside of school, but the first one where both couples were all together. Husband didn't attend our park play date.

The first time I got together with Best Friends Parents I realized the potential, this could be awesome if it worked out. This time we met at their house on Saturday night for dinner and drinks. It turned out to be even better then anticipated. Here is why:
1. I have heard through numerous sources that liking your child's friends parents is very rare. You aren't choosing these people, your child is, and the chances of getting along and having things in common besides the fact that your children are friends are slim.
2. Finding any couple, let alone a couple that actually have children within the same age, that both you and your Husband like equally is an uncommon find. Most the time you start with your friends, or Husbands friends and then get stuck with the spouse. The spouse may even be great, but not necessarily someone that your spouse would choose to hang out with.
3. Meeting people with a child that your child likes and wants to play with, and runs off to be with whether or not you are there- also an amazing find. Having the relationship where you have to talk your kid into it, doesn't make for a lot of Mommy fun time.

We had hit the jackpot! It's hard to explain the sheer amazement that both Husband and I had after our evening. We both had so much fun, were so comfortable, and it was obvious Three Year Old was having a blast- we couldn't believe it! There was no spouse putting on a brave face to hang with the other spouse. There was no grin and bare it attitude for Moma, Dad or Child! In some ways this couple was like our doppelganger: their careers, goals in life, past experiences- it was eerie. Music, movies, politics, religion? No problem. Each topic that came up, we were in agreement on. They even had a crazy dog like ours, it was spooky! It was like we had finally hit the lottery. The other interesting fact; because neither me or Husband had chosen these people, there was no friend baggage. No past histories, no favoritism, just pure getting to know you fun vibes. On the drive home as Husband and I exclaimed to each other in wonder on how well it had gone, we realized another great point- that they live in close proximity to our home! I said to Husband: "even if we had ever met a couple that we both would separately and together choose, who had a child the same age that liked each other, they would probably live in another state and we would never see them!" We couldn't get over our good luck.

Needless to say, we had a great time and can't wait to hang out again. I'm just hoping we don't find out later that they do dog fighting in their back yard, or embezzle money from the elderly, cause right now its feeling almost too good to be true!

Diets

Well I'm dieting again. I let it go for as long as I could. I didn't really gain too much weight over the holidays, because somehow all the weight appeared in mid January- I'm not sure how that happens. It doesn't help that every other day something unusual happens that is trying to stop me from any sort of routine or normal life. Who am I kidding? Since I have met my Husband (10 years ago this year!) my life has never been dull. Life just gets in the way of normal I suppose.

I started tracking my calories on this app I have on my phone. Boy what an eye opener! I've done it before, but man I will tell you, it really drags you back to reality when you realize one silly little avocado blew all the calories you had left for anything remotely interesting to eat on the couch while watching TV later. I guess I needed the wake up call. When the scale starts to creep up, it's time to get in check with what type of food and what size portions you are doling out to yourself. When I was training for the Triathlon and working out a ton, it was OK to be more free form with my food when the occasion arose, but after the holidays and getting back up and running (excuse the pun) every little calorie counts.

Last night, like I said I ran out of calories because of said avocado at lunch and a mild work out that didn't burn too much. I was left stranded as I watched my nightly shows! IT WAS HORRIBLE. What is the point of laying on the couch with Puppy in the dark watching sitcoms if I can't eat my two cups of 140 calorie popcorn?! So you know what I did? I pouted and moped to Husband, who was eagerly (a little too eagerly if you ask me) eating his nightly treat of yogurt with fruit and granola. Me and Puppy stood over him staring while he ate his yogurt. "You get to eat that?" I said innocently. "You have enough calories left for that do you?" This was said a little more accusingly. "Yes" he said flatly, because of course knowing Husband who is also on a weight loss regime he planned it perfectly out throughout his day and had enough calories, probably more then enough, to enjoy his favorite treat while watching Jon Stewart before bed. Urch, Husband is so annoying. So you know what I did? I went to bed at 9:30pm. This would be before Husband (who has to get up at 4:45am) went to bed. I simply packed it up and went to sleep.You know why? Cause what else was I gonna do?

Irony

Recently I made the decision that I would stop arguing with three year old about his clothes every morning. I gave up slowly over time. First it started with the black rain boots that he insisted he wear every day, now I let him. Then it was his shirt choice, mostly Star Wars, and then today I finally let go. When he began to argue with me about how he wanted to wear his brown pin stripped vest he insisted on, over the top of his heavy zip up sweater I patiently explained to him the concepts of "over" and "under" so that he could be clear on what he was really requesting. "we wear our sweaters OVER our shirts and vests". He seemed clear enough on what I was saying and then demanded that he wear the vest OVER the zip up sweater. I then relinquished all control and said "OK". The tears and battles are not worth it to me anymore, and what really am I holding on to? I love dressing him, its a joy I have- but really I don't have any issue with him dressing himself, mostly I just want it done.

Once we were dressed and on our way we stopped off at the Pediatricians office for a visit and then to school, where people at both locations stopped me to comment on how cute three year old looked in that outfit he was wearing. It was then that I realized how stylish he really did look with his black boots over his pants, his striped sweater under his vest, like some over done Ralph Lauren add of fly fishermen. 

The irony extends further when I tell my Mother about how difficult 3 year old is to get dressed and she cackles with laughter and reminds me for the millionth time how she used to refer to me as the Elizabeth Taylor of Van Nuys, because I HAD to pick my own clothes and that she eventually came up with the rule that she got to pick every OTHER day.

Sick and tired of being sick and tired

This weekend we were proactive and got up early and went to the natural history museum! It was educational, inspiring and made Husband and I feel like we were good active parents. During our trip to the museum Three year old licked a random banister in a stairway, which he is prone to do from time to time. I will catch him while I am busy paying for something or hoisting heavy gear and look over to see him; mouth open leaning against a banister, a counter top or the worst one yet: the ladies bathroom sink at LAX, with his mouth open clamped to it idly waiting on me. So at 5pm that same day after the Museum, Three year came down with a fever and declared he needed to go to bed. We checked his temperature, saw that he was indeed sick and put him to bed. It was strange being alone in the house with just Husband at 5:30 PM on a Saturday. It felt foreign and I almost didn't know what to do with myself, except sort of feel a mixture of guilt and joy that the House was so quiet. At 9pm Three year old awoke. He threw up as gracefully as a Three year old can and then went back to bed. That's when the darkness descended over Husbands and my thoughts: "will we get it too?! We were just sick! I CAN'T THROW UP!" Husband went into denial and said "I can't talk about it!". I decided to eat a pint of ice cream, figuring I would probably throw it up later so I might as well enjoy a quiet house with some mint and chip while I awaited my doom. 

The next day Three year old woke up and was OK, still had a mild fever, but was himself, and the day after that was able to go to school. So far (fingers crossed) neither Husband or I have gotten this mysterious illness, and I wonder- is it because we didn't lick the banister at the museum?

Dog Park

Husband and I try and take Puppy to the park as much as possible, it relieves a lot of puppy biting and makes for a much better dog afterward. I don't know if you have ever been to a dog park or not, but they are thick with melodrama-no joke, at least mine is. It's not just the dogs that hump, fight and act aggressively; it's the owners who flirt, argue and act insane. It's a strange place. In the four short months that I have been going I have witnessed and been hearsay to: countless dog fights, screaming owners, a pregnant women who got bitten on her stomach by a dog! and bizarre dog/owner relationships. I don't even need to discuss the endless amounts of humping, peeing, pooping and slobber. In many ways it reminds me of a bar- crazy stuff can happen, it's always unpredictable excitement.

Take today for example. In good motherly fashion I decide to sneak in a quick dog park run with Puppy. Since Husband has been busy trying to better himself with loosing weight, he's been too overwhelmed with working out after work to take Puppy to the park. So today I decide to get up early and take our crazy dog to the park before work.

I'll set the scene for you, picture it: it's a dark, cold rainy morning. Grey clouds loom overhead slowly whisping by, the area is surrounded by large purple mountains. The stage is set for what could be battle in the large open arena of the dark park.... (I've been watching a lot of Game of Thrones lately can you tell?) Anyway, even though its rainy I decide what the hell? I'll take Puppy to the park for a quick twenty minute romp, and then drop him back at home before work. It was ambitious, but I'm a good Mother (substitute 'Saint' if you like here). 

Today there didn't seem to be much going on at the old park of drama...or so one would assume upon entering. There were only three other owners there with their dogs running through the muddy puddles.We could see one of the dogs that Puppy likes to play with. If you don't know this already, dogs are like people and tend to play with/like the same dogs within their age range or choosing and play with those dogs each time they see them. Quinlan is the name of this particular friend to Puppy. I don't know any one's actual name, the owners I mean. I only know the dogs names, this is pretty much standard at the park. Anonymity, I love it.

Quinlan's owner is a guy that I privately refer to as the 'English Homeless Guy'. That pretty much sums him up. He has an English accent, and when I first saw him I thought he was literally homeless due to his dirty ragged clothes and shaggy blond beard. I later found out that he is actually the head of some truck delivery company and he's probably pretty loaded, but he looks like a thirty something dirty homeless guy. There's something more then just the accent and the strange dirty clothes that make him kind of interesting: He's great with the dogs in a dog whisperer/Merlin homeless guy kind of way, but unfortunately if you gave him a rope instead of his fancy leash and stood him on the corner he would truly look like the vagrant with a dog that you give money too out your car window at the stop light. He's nice enough, almost attractive, and a man of few words who happens to adore my dog. Therefore he's pretty good in my book.

So Puppy and Quinlan go about their usual routine of chasing each other through the wet sloshy dirt, wrestling each other to the ground, and gnawing on each others faces. The owners usually just stand around. Sometimes I will wander over to a group and chat if I'm in the mood, and sometimes I will just stand there saying nothing and stare, which is socially acceptable at the dog park. Quinlan's owner chats with the other dog owners, but doesn't really chat with me too much. This doesn't really bother me since I'm an introvert and I'd much rather be the voyeur anyway, I'm perfectly pleased to just stand there and stare. Quinlan's owner does however really enjoy Puppy, and knows him by name and gives him lots of pats and attention. I sort of like 'English Homeless Guy'.  He's kind of mysterious in a weird homeless I live under a bridge and know a whole underworld that you don't know mystique kind of way. I find myself wanting to know more about him, without actually wanting to talk to him. There's a few of these at the park-interesting and strange people potentially worth knowing outside these chain link walls.

We stand around today in the muck and the cold and the dogs play and English Homeless Guy kind of hovers nearby while avoiding eye contact, and I stand there looking at my watch anticipating that I need to leave in order to be at work within a reasonable time. Suddenly the sky gets dark and in the distance at the other end of the park I hear a ferocious barking. It's far enough away that I don't flinch, but I notice a large German Shepard playing roughly with a woman. He doesn't appear to be hurting anyone or doing anything weird, so I carry on with my staring into space. That's when I see that English Homeless Guy has also noticed this barking, and his head perks up like an animal in the wild who can tell it may suddenly be prey. He stands motionless and stares intently at the other side of the park at the German Shepard. If he was a dog the hair on the back of his neck would be standing up, that's how extreme he suddenly seems. I watch him and look around like maybe I should start running or something, but I'm not seeing anything that would normally concern me. So I decide to study English Homeless Guy, maybe he will reveal more information and give me a clue as to what I should be doing right now instead of standing here like an idiot. He then mumbles something English to himself and then says:"I need to get a rock, get a rock". He looks around and quickly finds a few round pebbles and shoves them into his pockets. Suddenly we are in 'Braveheart' and I'm wondering if I should mark my face with mud stripes and go hide behind the concrete bench. I look over and the Shepard that he keeps eyeing is miles away playing innocently, not only that, but the Shepard's owner appears to be a mild mannered small Asian woman, not some pit bull breeder with a chip on his shoulder. I look at English Homeless Guy again and say casually, mostly cause I'm just entertained at this point: "you don't like that Shepard?" to which he responds with silence as the dark clouds float by over head, and a light rain starts to fall. He stares intensely across the field at the Shepard and then slowly says to me without looking at me: "if that's Vader, then No." With my recent post you would think I was making this up, but in all seriousness that's what the dogs name was. I figured with a name like that I should be working on my war chant instead of standing in the mud like a sitting duck.

English Homeless Guy quickly collects his dog and his fancy leash all the while never taking his eyes off the joyful Shepard at the other end of the park. He works his way over to the gate to leash Quinlan. Puppy at the that moment of course decides he should start biting Quinlan incessantly. I could tell  English Homeless guy needed to get out of there as soon as possible. Whoever this 'vader' was there was no two ways about it: it was time for them to go! It started raining harder, so I decided to follow suit when English Homeless Guy turns and says to me: "Maybe Puppy would like to go to the small dog park also." He says this like he is giving me some secret hint or tip as to what I should be doing next. I then notice that all the other dogs that were once in the large dog section have scurried out and have collected in the small dog park section safely on the other side of the fence away from Vader. I took this as my cue to leave. I didn't know who or what this Vader was, but I decide I'm not appropriately dressed for a battle at Farik with William Wallace.

Like I said, DRAMA. If you ever get bored go visit your local dog park, I'm sure you never knew what lurked behind that chain link curtain...

Lord Vader

So Three year old is obsessed with Star Wars. He loves all the characters, but seems to have a special attachment to Darth Vader.  I find this appropriate considering the new phase he is in. Since his third birthday something has changed with Three year old-he's funnier, more interesting and a holy terror. Like Darth Vader he has become the reigning lord of saboteur. People talk about two year olds like they are "so crazy"! No. Three is where it gets hard. At three they have the full capability of verbalizing their opinions and thoughts, so it's not just "no" to everything, now it's "I don't want to do that Mama, because I don't like that". huh? what do you mean you don't like that? 

With the new year, three year old has started a new preschool class, with new teachers and students. Like any big transition he didn't take to it too kindly. He finally stopped crying when I dropped him off, luckily for me because it also makes me cry, but he is still acting out at home. Like both Husband and myself, Three year old tries to control his surroundings when he's feeling out of control. The problem is not that I don't understand this, the problem is I'm on the receiving end, and I'm supposed to be the boss. Each daily task is like negotiating with a terrorist. I ask him to do something, he refuses. I ask him again, he refuses. I warn him that there will be consequences, he refuses. The consequences occur (time out) and then we start all over again with the next chore. The key I am learning is to stay calm, like in any good hostage situation you can't show your cards by flipping out, mostly because nothing gets done. Trust me, if loosing my temper earned me points I would be the ruler of the universe and all minions around the world would have to hail me as their Lord Vader.

Last night Three year who had not taken a nap (prime toddler terrorist breeding grounds) started the evening out OK, then quickly spiraled into a full blown suicide bomber on an airplane. By bath time his head was permanently thrown back, mouth wide open crying, this time because his band aid on his finger (which he doesn't need since the cut healed five days ago) had fallen off. I tried everything: telling him there was a new band aide waiting for him after his bath, making him laugh by imitating a chicken, being soothing, being firm-nothing made a difference. This kid was so tired and over whelmed I eventually had to wrap him in a towel, burrito style and carry the screaming tyrant to his room. He then continued to cry the entire time I put his pajamas on him since he was too crippled by carrying on to do anything for himself.

I realize that this is just a phase, and like always in a few weeks once school has settled, he will be his normal lovely self again. Hopefully he will also start taking naps at school again to. Until then, I need as much sympathy as possible. Even Husband commiserated with me. The look on his face when we went in to give Dada his good night kiss said it all, his face was so full of pity for me that I almost didn't recognize the man I married. I'm sure I must have looked so haggard and beyond repair that even Husband felt sorry for me.

Until the next phase, Lord Vader rules my home, and "You don't know the power of the dark side!".

Wednesday catch up

Here are some pictures from the holiday that I never got a chance to post. Enjoy my crazy boys.

a little Christmas cuddling 

Husband is a beast and this meal proves it, eating Cornish game hen with his hands!

practicing his Jedi moves. Its hard to look tough though when you are wearing little sandals with socks. 

Barnaby making what we call his 'Yoda Tooth face'

Chillin' with my boys...

more snuggling on the couch

new Christmas towel from our neighbors, this boy is so spoiled.

More 'Yoda Toothing'

me with my favorite Rose bowl parade float

3 year with his favorite float and crackers in his teeth. I like how my hat looks extended here by the float behind me. It makes me look really stylish.

What happened

Well true to my prediction the weekend went something like this:

wake up with the boys

They play like wild animals non stop while I watch my cooking show and try not to get a light saber to the head or my hand gnawed off

Husband finally gets up

to then become part of the pile of boys

He takes over playing the never ending game of Star Wars we have at our house

as well as being the human dog lounge chair 

and like every weekend we have toast...

and poached eggs for breakfast

this Saturday our day started with a play date with 3 year olds best friend

the park is always good for thinking deep thoughts...about Star Wars

Barnaby gets to have a play date of his own at the Dog Park, there is a lot more humping and peeing though at this park

on Sunday we finally said good bye to the hedgehog and got a hair cut

and of course there is lots more play time to be had

and by the end of the weekend mom is usually happy, relaxed, and a little worn out from all those feisty boys.