Normally the boys are still asleep when I leave for work, but today they got up insanely early and were up and about and underfoot as I was trying to get ready (Rob was catching a few more z's before I left the house and the boys would be all his).
Palmer had just finished pooping in the potty. I had just finished blow drying my hair, and needed to get my clothes ironed. I knew removing Palmer from the bathroom would cause a screaming fit, so against my better judgment, I let him stay to play with the box of baby butt wipes (I'll clean them up later, I thought). I was around the corner in the closet, ironing my clothes, when Camden said laughing, "Mommy, look what Palmer's doing."
The Mommy in me knew it could not be a good thing, so I sighed heavily and asked "What's he doing?"
"He's brushing his hair."
Oh, okay, that's not bad. Mommy instincts had steered me wrong...brushing hair is a good thing. I peeked around the corner, and sure enough, Palmer was brushing his hair. How cute! He had even put water on the brush like I do when I am trying to calm his cowlicks...even cuter! I figured he had climbed on the toilet to reach the sink. I have seen him do it before. So, I helped him brush it down all nice and flat (and very wet) and handed him the brush back. He smiled at me, and I watched in disbelief as he walked back over to the toilet, lifted the lid and dipped the brush IN THE TOILET WATER!
Mommy instincs never lie.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Maybe I just don't have it in me
I know, I know, I am falling down on the blog job. I must admit, I kind of knew this was going to happen when I started the blog. I figured it would be hard to keep up with. Just bear with me, go back and read the old stuff and I'll have some new stuff sometime soon. The kids just haven't been as funny lately. It's not my fault... if you want to blame somebody for the lack of blog posts, blame my kids. That's what I do every time Rob complains about the mess in the kitchen.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Wait...what day is today? October 1 already?
(I started this yesterday and didn't get very far, but that's why the date above is wrong...sigh) Yikes! Was my last post really over a month ago?! I've written several posts since then...in my head. Okay, I know it doesn't count becasue you are not mind readers. I swear I am trying, but you try to have two kids and a full time job and keep up with your blog. Let me know how that goes for you.
So, here's the update. Yes, Camden finally realized that his doggy was no longer around. He whined, there were a few actual tears, he asked a lot of questions and then he told me a few days later that his doggy "runned away." And no, I did not tell him that, but I guess that was the only way he could wrap his mind around it. He has also become really attached to his stuffed dog lately (looks just like Dempsey, BTW). For a long time, it was "baby tiger that the dentist gave me" that dragged around the house, but now it is doggy. According to Camden, doggy does not have a name and doggy does not talk (okay, so he doesn't hear voices...good to know).
Palmer's language skills are really progressing. His best words are apple, ball and banana. There are really just a handful you would be able to pick up offhand. But I, being the mommy, am very skilled at deciphering his rudimentary language, and boy does that kid talk. "I want more toothpaste" "That's Mommy's shoe" and my personal favorite, "No Camden, not nice!" As you may be able to tell, he gets most of his phrases by copying Camden, and his most common sentences begins with "I want..." He has also said things like, "That doggy says woof" "There's water in there" "All gone lizard" and he especially loves to sing. The cleanup song is his favorite..."clean up, clean up, everybody do your share..." The doctor said when kids are close in age it is unusual for the younger one to talk so much, as the older one usually does all of the talking for them, but Palmer seems to be holding his own pretty darn well. I think he sensed form an early age that Camden was only looking out for number one, and if he wanted to compete, he would have to make his own way.
So, here's the update. Yes, Camden finally realized that his doggy was no longer around. He whined, there were a few actual tears, he asked a lot of questions and then he told me a few days later that his doggy "runned away." And no, I did not tell him that, but I guess that was the only way he could wrap his mind around it. He has also become really attached to his stuffed dog lately (looks just like Dempsey, BTW). For a long time, it was "baby tiger that the dentist gave me" that dragged around the house, but now it is doggy. According to Camden, doggy does not have a name and doggy does not talk (okay, so he doesn't hear voices...good to know).
Palmer's language skills are really progressing. His best words are apple, ball and banana. There are really just a handful you would be able to pick up offhand. But I, being the mommy, am very skilled at deciphering his rudimentary language, and boy does that kid talk. "I want more toothpaste" "That's Mommy's shoe" and my personal favorite, "No Camden, not nice!" As you may be able to tell, he gets most of his phrases by copying Camden, and his most common sentences begins with "I want..." He has also said things like, "That doggy says woof" "There's water in there" "All gone lizard" and he especially loves to sing. The cleanup song is his favorite..."clean up, clean up, everybody do your share..." The doctor said when kids are close in age it is unusual for the younger one to talk so much, as the older one usually does all of the talking for them, but Palmer seems to be holding his own pretty darn well. I think he sensed form an early age that Camden was only looking out for number one, and if he wanted to compete, he would have to make his own way.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
TS Fay: Not gonna' fizzle
Tropical storm Fay is still going strong as she makes her way back across Florida, right over our heads. The most we've seen so far is a little drizzle, but it was enough to cause our day care to close today and tomorrow. AND, being that I work for an electric utility company, this is our busiest time! Outages abound in our service area, which lies mostly southeast of Gainesville and is already seeing the brunt of the storm. Not a whole lot of wind, but the rain is causing soggy trees to lose their footing and topple over onto our service lines. So, we here in the PR department are scrambling to keep up with media calls and keep our web site as up-to-date as possible. Thank heavens for good friends like Jennifer who volunteered to watch the boys today so I could come to work and Rob could cook for his 100+ catering event this afternoon that was NOT canceled due to inclement weather. On my schedule for tomorrow is damage reporting. I'll be touring the Gainesville District, camera in hand, to document any flooding and downed power lines (they hooked me up with a hard hat and full-length raincoat just for the occasion). So, Rob and I will split kid-watch duties tomorrow so I can work in the morning and he can cook for ANOTHER catering event tomorrow afternoon. Life goes on, storm or no storm.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
In Loving Memory
To our beloved friend, family member, playmate, you will be missed but not forgotten. You were gentle and patient and loving. You were part of our family when we needed you most, and now your time had passed and we will hold our dear memories of you near to our hearts.Dempsey, we love you and we miss you.
"It was time," Rob said to me this morning when I called him "after." That was all I needed to hear to know he was at peace with his decision. He called the vet late yesterday afternoon and made the appointment for 7:30 this morning, so as to avoid too much drama. I dropped the boys at day care today (usually a daddy duty) while Rob took Dempsey to the vet.
For those of you that don't know, Dempsey had a spinal nerve disease called degenerative myelopathy where the myelin tissue in a specific nerve group in a dog's spinal cord deteriorates. It is like MS in dogs (go figure). It is more common in certain breeds like boxers, dalmatians and German Shepherds. DM causes the nerve impulses from the brain to be unable to reach the dog's hind quarters. There is no treatment or cure for the disease. It progresses rapidly and is often not diagnosed until the later stages of the disease because the early symptoms are so similar to arthritis.
Dempsey had his first symptoms about 15 months ago, and by June of this year he was unable to walk. He managed to get around pretty well by pulling himself along with his front legs. The vet assured us that many dogs get along this way for quite some time, and since there is no pain associated with the disease, there would be no need to rush to a decision about putting the dog to sleep. But Dempsey, who had always loved to run, and was a star high jumper, stick chaser and backyard escape artist, was no longer his happy perky self. Maybe no pain, but there was definite sadness in his eyes. It is so hard to finally come to terms with what is in the best interest of your beloved pet, and my heart aches for Rob right now, but deep down he knew "it was time."
We didn't say anything to the boys. Palmer is young enough that he won't remember Dempsey, and likely will not even question why he isn't there anymore. Camden was the same age when we put Elvis to sleep, and it was a week later when he finally went to the closet where Elvis used to sleep and matter-of-factly said "all gone." Palmer is a fan of the phrase at the moment, so I anticipate it will be a similar situation with him in this case.
Camden knows Dempsey was old and sick. He was well aware that he couldn't play with Dempsey the way he used to. I had previously told him that there would come a day when Dempsey would not be with us anymore, and left it at that. I did not tell him last night or this morning that today was that day. In my heart of hearts I am hoping that he simply won't notice Dempsey's absence and will take it all in stride and not ask too many questions. Maybe in all his innocence, he will really understand that Dempsey is not with us anymore simply because "it was time."
Friday, August 1, 2008
Where'd my babies go?
Oh, my boys are getting so big. Camden dresses himself now (tear, sniff sniff). I can no longer pick out his clothes or help him keep from putting his head through the arm hole. He does it all by himself! I will say, it makes for some interesting color combinations, but dare I even suggest a clothing change, and it causes a complete meltdown. So, yesterday he wore his red, white and blue 4th of July shirt with a pair of Army green shorts and his Spider-Man shoes. There was also the day he wore a pajama shirt to school, and the day he went without underwear because I didn't know I had to check.
Palmer is cruising right along, too. He is talking more than ever, although still I am the only one who can understand him, I think. His favorite food right now is hot dogs and it's pretty much his answer to every question:
"Palmer, what do you want for lunch today?"
"Hot dog"
"What did you have for dinner last night?"
"Hot dog"
"Are you hungry? Do you want a snack?"
"Hot dog, hot dog."
I swear, the kid would be perfectly happy eating hot dogs 24/7. But, he is a good eater and downs the fruits and veggies, too.
Palmer is also using the potty. I think he saw all the excitement and praise we gave Camden over the last several months, and he wants in on that. He goes pee-pee on the potty pretty much every day now, at school and at home. And he has even gone poop on the potty three times. He actually told me one time that he had to go by pulling on the bottom of his shorts and running to the bathroom and whining at the door. Then, when I though he was done, he did the sign for more and said "wa-wa" and pointed to his pee-pee. So I sat him back on the potty and he went more! For the most part though, he just goes when I remember to take him to the potty, and twice a day at school when they have potty time. I don't expect that he will actually be potty trained any time soon, but at least it's keeping his diapers drier longer for now, and every little bit helps.
Palmer is cruising right along, too. He is talking more than ever, although still I am the only one who can understand him, I think. His favorite food right now is hot dogs and it's pretty much his answer to every question:
"Palmer, what do you want for lunch today?"
"Hot dog"
"What did you have for dinner last night?"
"Hot dog"
"Are you hungry? Do you want a snack?"
"Hot dog, hot dog."
I swear, the kid would be perfectly happy eating hot dogs 24/7. But, he is a good eater and downs the fruits and veggies, too.
Palmer is also using the potty. I think he saw all the excitement and praise we gave Camden over the last several months, and he wants in on that. He goes pee-pee on the potty pretty much every day now, at school and at home. And he has even gone poop on the potty three times. He actually told me one time that he had to go by pulling on the bottom of his shorts and running to the bathroom and whining at the door. Then, when I though he was done, he did the sign for more and said "wa-wa" and pointed to his pee-pee. So I sat him back on the potty and he went more! For the most part though, he just goes when I remember to take him to the potty, and twice a day at school when they have potty time. I don't expect that he will actually be potty trained any time soon, but at least it's keeping his diapers drier longer for now, and every little bit helps.
Friday, July 11, 2008
The Maine Event
We had a fantastic time in Maine. The weather was beautiful - chilly at night, with a high of 78 and sunny during the day. Almost a little too cool for the beach, but the boys didn't seem to mind.
[See pictures below]: We stayed in a cute little cottage/cabin on the beach that was very old and a little dirty, but perfect for the kids, complete with a front yard for them to run around in. We went to the carnival at the pier (walking distance form our cottage) and rode a few rides, including the Ferris wheel over the water. Had a lobster roll for lunch (sorry, no pic) that was de-lish! I've heard about them on the food network, and couldn't wait to get to Maine to try one. We tried to watch the fireworks that night, but Palmer slept through it and Camden got bored after 15 minutes and wanted to go inside. Next morning we hit the beach, then showered up and went for a "nature hike" on a cliff to see a lighthouse that never materialized. Then it was off to Rob's aunt's house for the official family get together. You can see most of the 50 plus of us in the picture, but I notice a few stragglers are missing. Day three everyone wanted to drive to Salem, MA (supposedly a 1.5 hour drive that turned out to be three hours for those that went) but I said no way, for the sake of the kids. Instead we found a children's museum 15 minutes away in downtown Portland (thank you laptop and GPS) where they could run and jump and play; and then a short brewery tour at the Shipyard Brewery just around the corner for Daddy. We wrapped up the final day after dinner with an ice cream treat, and that was about it. We had a great time, ate lots of lobster, and came home needing a vacation from our vacation, but it was well worth it.
Okay, there are a few key details I left out, like the stroller incident, the bag check, the tire delay, the pee on the plane (not ours), the rock bed, the drunken realtives, and the list goes on. But that's neither here nor there, so we'll leave it there. Above all else, we had FUN!
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Hair we go again
Repeat after me: “I swear never to make my child grow his hair long and get a bowl cut like Joey Lawrence, or that red-headed kid from Diff’rent Strokes, because even though I thought they were really cute back in the ’80’s, it is not necessarily the best look for my kids.”
You all know I caved on Camden’s bowl cut last month and let Rob take him for a shorter cut, but I was still holding out hope for Palmer. Okay, so it was a little shaggy…you just have to endure that sloppy in-between stage when you’re on the quest for the perfect bowl cut.
Well, this time I caved all the way around. Okay, I admit it, Rob was right and I was wrong, as evidenced by the pictures below (please don't make me explain the Superman costume). Palmer got a cute little boy cut and Camden’s in-between-bowl-and-short cut went all the way short. It had to – it was still too long in the back, and he had this weird bang-y thing going on. Rob also got rid of his mop and opted for a short cut. It is truly the end of an era for the bowl cut in our household.
As for the cutting part, the boys did remarkably well. The stylists were totally impressed. Palmer sat on Daddy’s lap and did a great job of holding still. And Camden climbed right up in the big chair and hopped on the booster seat all by himself. He was so proud of himself for sitting still and kept telling the stylist “I’m not crying. I’m a big boy.” (Yes, we had a tearful attempt at Supercuts in the past). He even let her use the clippers on his neck without so much as a wince. I was so proud of them.
If I hadn't birthed them myself, I'd hardly believe they're even related.
You all know I caved on Camden’s bowl cut last month and let Rob take him for a shorter cut, but I was still holding out hope for Palmer. Okay, so it was a little shaggy…you just have to endure that sloppy in-between stage when you’re on the quest for the perfect bowl cut.
Well, this time I caved all the way around. Okay, I admit it, Rob was right and I was wrong, as evidenced by the pictures below (please don't make me explain the Superman costume). Palmer got a cute little boy cut and Camden’s in-between-bowl-and-short cut went all the way short. It had to – it was still too long in the back, and he had this weird bang-y thing going on. Rob also got rid of his mop and opted for a short cut. It is truly the end of an era for the bowl cut in our household.
As for the cutting part, the boys did remarkably well. The stylists were totally impressed. Palmer sat on Daddy’s lap and did a great job of holding still. And Camden climbed right up in the big chair and hopped on the booster seat all by himself. He was so proud of himself for sitting still and kept telling the stylist “I’m not crying. I’m a big boy.” (Yes, we had a tearful attempt at Supercuts in the past). He even let her use the clippers on his neck without so much as a wince. I was so proud of them.
If I hadn't birthed them myself, I'd hardly believe they're even related.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Chop-chop
Sorry about the poor quality of these pics, (Rob took them with his cell phone) but they are too cute not to share. We went out for sushi for dinner Saturday night and the boys had a ball using chopsticks. Our waitress gave us these little plastic things that hold the chopsticks together to make them easy for kids to use. Camden thought it was the coolest thing, and even though he struggled a little, he refused to use a fork. And of course, Palmer had to follow suit with big brother. He actually managed to get a couple grains of rice in his mouth, I think. I tried giving Palmer bites from a fork, but he wouldn't take any food that was not offered to him from a pair of chopsticks. They ate chicken Pad-Thai (noodles, veggies and peanut sauce) and a California Roll (cooked crab, avocado and rice). Camden did a fantastic job, and he became very adept at picking the vegetables out of his noodles with the chopsticks (Grrr...).
Friday, June 13, 2008
Buh-buh Talk
So, Palmer has officially spoken his first sentence: “I want that!” It’s not surprising since he hears it all the time from his big brother. I don’t think Palmer knows it is a sentence, but he knows it gets him what he wants. Over the past two days I have heard it nearly 100 times. Over and over and over…I want that, I want that, I want that. Of course, it is still baby talk, so it sounds more like “Ah-waan-dat,” but combined with the pointing and grabbing, the meaning is very clear.
Palmer is actually very good at communicating, and his vocabulary is growing, but for some reason I am the only one who can understand him. Can you tell what he is saying? Test your baby talk knowledge (see the answer key below).
Palmer’s list of words:
Muh
Baba
Dada
Deh-da
Wawa
Ah-duh
Ah-guh
Mama
Oww
Nuh
My-eee
Doo
Ha-ha
Answer Key
More
Bottle
Daddy
Doggy
Water
All done
All gone
Milk
Out
No
Mine
Juice
Hot
How many did you get correct?
0-3 Crybaby
4-6 Toddling right along
7-10 Baby talk expert
11-13 Are you sure you’re not his real Mommy?
Palmer is actually very good at communicating, and his vocabulary is growing, but for some reason I am the only one who can understand him. Can you tell what he is saying? Test your baby talk knowledge (see the answer key below).
Palmer’s list of words:
Muh
Baba
Dada
Deh-da
Wawa
Ah-duh
Ah-guh
Mama
Oww
Nuh
My-eee
Doo
Ha-ha
Answer Key
More
Bottle
Daddy
Doggy
Water
All done
All gone
Milk
Out
No
Mine
Juice
Hot
How many did you get correct?
0-3 Crybaby
4-6 Toddling right along
7-10 Baby talk expert
11-13 Are you sure you’re not his real Mommy?
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Potty Post
If you are a mom, you already know this. If you are not a mom, well then FYI: when you have kids, there is no more privacy when you pee.
It all starts innocently enough. When they are babies, you don’t want to leave them out of your sight for even a split second, so you “hold it” until nap time, but then there inevitably comes that day when you really gotta’ go, so you bring baby with you. What difference does it make? Babies don’t know what’s going on. As they get bigger, you can go by yourself and leave the toddler occupied with a pile of toys, but you MUST leave the door open so you can keep your ears tuned in case something happens. What difference does it make? You are the only two in the house. Then, as toddler becomes pre-schooler, just when it is finally safe to close the door and be alone for a few minutes when Daddy is home, SURPRISE, in they barge, mid-stream! Why not lock the door you say? Well, you see, their tiny little ears have super-sonic hearing, and somehow, from anywhere in the house, they can hear the slightest little clink that sounds when you turn the lock on the bathroom door. That little sound signals them like they are on the SWAT team and their captain is shouting SWARM, SWARM, SWARM. They attack the door, pounding and screaming as if you had abandoned them for life! So, let’s just say, to keep the peace the door is better left unlocked. That being said, I am always prepared for the barge-in.
So, of course, Sunday afternoon, I am in the bathroom, mid-stream, when Camden exhuberently throws the door wide open. Our conversation went like this:
Camden: “What are you doing, Mommy?”
Me in my head in an exasperated tone: “What does it look like I’m doing?!”
Me out loud, sweetly: “I’m peeing, Camden.”
Camden: “No Mommy, you have to stand up and go pee-pee like a big boy.”
Okay, no problem, I can think quickly.
Me: “Well, no…see, uh, yeah, well… I am a girl, so I have to sit when I go pee-pee.”
Camden “No Mommy, you should stand, ‘cuz then your pee-pee [the body part, not the liquid] can point in the potty and you can go pee-pee.”
Me: Well, no, my pee-pee [again, body part] is different because I am a girl. Girls have different pee-pees, so they have to sit down on the potty.” (As you can tell, we do not use technical terms for body parts in our house – I am all for the euphemisms)
Surprisingly enough, he seemed very satisfied with that answer and matter-of-factly said,” Okay, Mommy,” and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Then, later that evening he was reminded of our earlier conversation upon his nightly pee-pee inspection in the bathtub and he wanted to reiterate, just to make sure he was clear on everything.
Camden: “Mommy, you sit down when you go pee-pee ‘cuz your pee-pee is different ‘cuz you’re a GRILL?
Me: “Yes Camden, my pee-pee is different because I cook hamburgers and barbecued chicken.”
Okay, so my feable attempt at humor was lost on his two-year-old mind. At least I made myself laugh.
It all starts innocently enough. When they are babies, you don’t want to leave them out of your sight for even a split second, so you “hold it” until nap time, but then there inevitably comes that day when you really gotta’ go, so you bring baby with you. What difference does it make? Babies don’t know what’s going on. As they get bigger, you can go by yourself and leave the toddler occupied with a pile of toys, but you MUST leave the door open so you can keep your ears tuned in case something happens. What difference does it make? You are the only two in the house. Then, as toddler becomes pre-schooler, just when it is finally safe to close the door and be alone for a few minutes when Daddy is home, SURPRISE, in they barge, mid-stream! Why not lock the door you say? Well, you see, their tiny little ears have super-sonic hearing, and somehow, from anywhere in the house, they can hear the slightest little clink that sounds when you turn the lock on the bathroom door. That little sound signals them like they are on the SWAT team and their captain is shouting SWARM, SWARM, SWARM. They attack the door, pounding and screaming as if you had abandoned them for life! So, let’s just say, to keep the peace the door is better left unlocked. That being said, I am always prepared for the barge-in.
So, of course, Sunday afternoon, I am in the bathroom, mid-stream, when Camden exhuberently throws the door wide open. Our conversation went like this:
Camden: “What are you doing, Mommy?”
Me in my head in an exasperated tone: “What does it look like I’m doing?!”
Me out loud, sweetly: “I’m peeing, Camden.”
Camden: “No Mommy, you have to stand up and go pee-pee like a big boy.”
Okay, no problem, I can think quickly.
Me: “Well, no…see, uh, yeah, well… I am a girl, so I have to sit when I go pee-pee.”
Camden “No Mommy, you should stand, ‘cuz then your pee-pee [the body part, not the liquid] can point in the potty and you can go pee-pee.”
Me: Well, no, my pee-pee [again, body part] is different because I am a girl. Girls have different pee-pees, so they have to sit down on the potty.” (As you can tell, we do not use technical terms for body parts in our house – I am all for the euphemisms)
Surprisingly enough, he seemed very satisfied with that answer and matter-of-factly said,” Okay, Mommy,” and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Then, later that evening he was reminded of our earlier conversation upon his nightly pee-pee inspection in the bathtub and he wanted to reiterate, just to make sure he was clear on everything.
Camden: “Mommy, you sit down when you go pee-pee ‘cuz your pee-pee is different ‘cuz you’re a GRILL?
Me: “Yes Camden, my pee-pee is different because I cook hamburgers and barbecued chicken.”
Okay, so my feable attempt at humor was lost on his two-year-old mind. At least I made myself laugh.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
Rob has been bugging me forever to get Camden’s hair cut, but I really like the Joey Lawrence look, so I kept refusing. I was trimming just the “bangs” myself, and it was finally getting to the proper bowl length, and I was starting to train it to do that split in the front like Joey's did. Anyway, I loved it (notice the past tense here?) Yes, that’s right, Rob took Camden for a haircut yesterday and the results are pictured below for your viewing enjoyment. So, no more bowl for Camden. He looks like such a big boy now. Combine the hair cut with the potty training, and he is all grown up (tear). I do miss his cute little mop of hair, but, that’s okay, I have trimmed up Palmer’s hair and the beginning of his bowl cut is coming along quite nicely (as seen in the latest slideshow pics I added to the right). I can’t wait for his cute little blonde bowl to be grown in to the perfect length...in about a year or so.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Let's all do the Potty Dance!
We are celebrating a huge milestone this week in the Hernandez house. It literally brought me to tears. It’s a bigger deal than learning to walk or talk…Camden is potty trained! No more baby diapers EVER! (You have to say that like Joan Crawford for maximum effect).
The best part is that he insists on using the big potty, so I have relegated the little potty chair to storage in the garage and will resurrect it when Palmer is ready. The only down side is that he also insists on standing up to go pee-pee like a “big boy” and his aim ain’t so great.
Camden has been using the potty at day care, and the little potty chair at home, for a few months now, but I have been falling back on diapers whenever we left the house, not wanting to risk cleaning up accidents in public. But, I finally bit the bullet the weekend before last, and we made several outings sans diapers. It was amazing, he told me when he had to go, and he used the potty, and used the potty and used the potty. Okay, there is one other drawback; everywhere we go he has to use the potty. And, there is another best part too: (excuse me if a get a little graphic here) not having to change his stinky, poopy diapers is wonderful! That part (going #2 in the potty) was a little harder to get him on board with, but he finally came around with a little bribery.
I tried to make him continue wearing diapers at night, not wanting to have to wash pee-pee blankets in the morning, but Camden flat-out refused, saying emphatically, “Mommy, I am potty trained.” How could I argue with that? And, he wakes up dry every morning. So, as far as I can tell, he is 100% fully potty trained and never looking back – not a single accident yet in the last two weeks.
Seriously, it’s better than walking and talking!
The best part is that he insists on using the big potty, so I have relegated the little potty chair to storage in the garage and will resurrect it when Palmer is ready. The only down side is that he also insists on standing up to go pee-pee like a “big boy” and his aim ain’t so great.
Camden has been using the potty at day care, and the little potty chair at home, for a few months now, but I have been falling back on diapers whenever we left the house, not wanting to risk cleaning up accidents in public. But, I finally bit the bullet the weekend before last, and we made several outings sans diapers. It was amazing, he told me when he had to go, and he used the potty, and used the potty and used the potty. Okay, there is one other drawback; everywhere we go he has to use the potty. And, there is another best part too: (excuse me if a get a little graphic here) not having to change his stinky, poopy diapers is wonderful! That part (going #2 in the potty) was a little harder to get him on board with, but he finally came around with a little bribery.
I tried to make him continue wearing diapers at night, not wanting to have to wash pee-pee blankets in the morning, but Camden flat-out refused, saying emphatically, “Mommy, I am potty trained.” How could I argue with that? And, he wakes up dry every morning. So, as far as I can tell, he is 100% fully potty trained and never looking back – not a single accident yet in the last two weeks.
Seriously, it’s better than walking and talking!
Monday, April 7, 2008
How I give to the needy
Rob and Camden had a father/son day at Sea World yesterday [LSS: Rob got a ½ price ticket from his Budweiser distributor at the restaurant. I didn’t want to go because tix are so expensive, so I opted to stay home with Palmer so Rob and Camden (he’s free anyway) could have a day together.]
After they got home and Camden was ready for bed (Palmer was already asleep), we were relaxing on the couch while Rob was in the shower. I was giving Camden a little foot rub as I often do before bed to help him relax. As he was telling me all about the sharks and their big teeth, he paused to instruct me on his preferred foot rubbing technique: “No Mommy, push harder… squish my toes…use two hands.”
Seriously, where does he come up with this stuff?
Shortly thereafter, Camden was in bed and Rob was filling me in on the details of the day. He paused for a moment with a simple request, “Hey Babe? Will you rub my feet?”
Of course I obliged, knowing how he had been doing a lot of walking all day from the Shamu show to the Penguin display to the Dolphin pool, while I was at home relaxing – doing laundry, dishes, vacuuming, cleaning the shower, did I mention laundry?
“Make sure you get in there and get the toes,” he said.
I started laughing. “Like father, like son,” I said, and told Rob about my earlier conversation with Camden. “You guys are so demanding.”
“We’re not demanding,” he countered, “we’re just needy.”
“Why are you so needy?”
“Because we’re men.”
Not sure where the conversation went from there, because all I could hear was the hammer hitting the nail on the head. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he had actually read my blog.
After they got home and Camden was ready for bed (Palmer was already asleep), we were relaxing on the couch while Rob was in the shower. I was giving Camden a little foot rub as I often do before bed to help him relax. As he was telling me all about the sharks and their big teeth, he paused to instruct me on his preferred foot rubbing technique: “No Mommy, push harder… squish my toes…use two hands.”
Seriously, where does he come up with this stuff?
Shortly thereafter, Camden was in bed and Rob was filling me in on the details of the day. He paused for a moment with a simple request, “Hey Babe? Will you rub my feet?”
Of course I obliged, knowing how he had been doing a lot of walking all day from the Shamu show to the Penguin display to the Dolphin pool, while I was at home relaxing – doing laundry, dishes, vacuuming, cleaning the shower, did I mention laundry?
“Make sure you get in there and get the toes,” he said.
I started laughing. “Like father, like son,” I said, and told Rob about my earlier conversation with Camden. “You guys are so demanding.”
“We’re not demanding,” he countered, “we’re just needy.”
“Why are you so needy?”
“Because we’re men.”
Not sure where the conversation went from there, because all I could hear was the hammer hitting the nail on the head. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought he had actually read my blog.
Friday, April 4, 2008
I forgot...men are not moms
I’ve done several posts about the kids, and one post about my work life, but no posts about being a wife. Ah, how closely the blog mirrors real life. I suppose I wouldn’t even be a mom if I hadn’t been a wife first (at least in my book that’s the way it goes), but sometimes it’s hard to remember I’ve got wifely duties, too. Rob reminded me of this recently. He’s been feeling neglected lately, and I can understand why. On the priority list of my life, he falls almost as close to the bottom as I do. I think it goes like this.
1. The Kids
2. The House
3. The Kids
4. Work
5. The Kids
6. Rob
7. Me
Okay, maybe the dog comes after me, but that’s about it. So anyway, back to Rob feeling neglected…He actually said to me the other day, “You know, you are a great mother and housekeeper, and work hard at your job, but sometimes I think you forget how to be a wife.” Luckily I am becoming more skilled at translating man-speak, so I did not get offended. I know what he was really meant was “I’m a man, not a mom, so I need you to dote on me every second of the day so I feel loved and appreciated.” So, I added to my to-do list, more hugs and kisses and ‘atta boys for Rob. I think I can work that in somewhere between poopy diaper changes. And just maybe, there will be a future post about being a wife.
1. The Kids
2. The House
3. The Kids
4. Work
5. The Kids
6. Rob
7. Me
Okay, maybe the dog comes after me, but that’s about it. So anyway, back to Rob feeling neglected…He actually said to me the other day, “You know, you are a great mother and housekeeper, and work hard at your job, but sometimes I think you forget how to be a wife.” Luckily I am becoming more skilled at translating man-speak, so I did not get offended. I know what he was really meant was “I’m a man, not a mom, so I need you to dote on me every second of the day so I feel loved and appreciated.” So, I added to my to-do list, more hugs and kisses and ‘atta boys for Rob. I think I can work that in somewhere between poopy diaper changes. And just maybe, there will be a future post about being a wife.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Modern Technology: It's all fun and games until somebody gets a Bluetooth
Bathtime in our house is usually full of fighting over toys, sceaming about hair washing and splashing water on Mommy. Ocassionally there is a little quiet conversation time thrown into the mix, which I truly cherish. On Friday, it went like this:
Camden: “I played with Owen today. Owen is my best friend. And Tyler is my best friend, too. Tyler is in the big-boy class [Tyler recently moved to the three-year-old room]. Owen scratched me with a stick. See…I have a boo-boo.”
Palmer: “Uh-Oh” as he dumps a cup full of water onto the bathroom floor.
Me: As I grab a towel and start mopping up, “I thought you said Owen was your best friend?”
Camden: “Owen is my best friend. And Tyler, too. I played with Own today. I need ice for my boo-boo.”
How easily two-year-olds forgive and forget. Intentional injuries and all, and they are still best friends. BTW, this Owen character also scratched Camden in the face about three months ago. He still has a scar. I’ll be happy when Camden moves to the “threes” class and gets to play with Tyler again.
So anyway, our conversation continued:
Plamer: “EEEEEEHHHHH”
Camden: “Mommy, I got a Bluetooth.”
Me: “Camden, you don’t even have a cell phone, what would you do with a Bluetooth? Plus, I wouldn’t let you have a Bluetooth. I wouldn’t want you walking around all day like a dork with that stupid earpiece on.”
Camden: “No Mommy, I got a BLUE TOOTH,” as he pulls up his lip revealing, sure enough, a blue tooth! Well, sort of a bluish gray. If you’ve been following along, you know this was semi-expected. I was really surprised that it was not the chipped tooth that turned gray; it was the other front tooth, right next to it. I guess both teeth took a pretty hard blow. One chipped off and the other died. So, now Camden is no longer just Daddy’s boy. He is, once again, truly half Mommy and half Daddy, with one chipped tooth (like Daddy) and one gray tooth (like Mommy…well, like Mommy was before I turned six and it fell out.)
Palmer: “Uh-Oh” as he dumps another cup of water on the floor.
Camden: “I played with Owen today. Owen is my best friend. And Tyler is my best friend, too. Tyler is in the big-boy class [Tyler recently moved to the three-year-old room]. Owen scratched me with a stick. See…I have a boo-boo.”
Palmer: “Uh-Oh” as he dumps a cup full of water onto the bathroom floor.
Me: As I grab a towel and start mopping up, “I thought you said Owen was your best friend?”
Camden: “Owen is my best friend. And Tyler, too. I played with Own today. I need ice for my boo-boo.”
How easily two-year-olds forgive and forget. Intentional injuries and all, and they are still best friends. BTW, this Owen character also scratched Camden in the face about three months ago. He still has a scar. I’ll be happy when Camden moves to the “threes” class and gets to play with Tyler again.
So anyway, our conversation continued:
Plamer: “EEEEEEHHHHH”
Camden: “Mommy, I got a Bluetooth.”
Me: “Camden, you don’t even have a cell phone, what would you do with a Bluetooth? Plus, I wouldn’t let you have a Bluetooth. I wouldn’t want you walking around all day like a dork with that stupid earpiece on.”
Camden: “No Mommy, I got a BLUE TOOTH,” as he pulls up his lip revealing, sure enough, a blue tooth! Well, sort of a bluish gray. If you’ve been following along, you know this was semi-expected. I was really surprised that it was not the chipped tooth that turned gray; it was the other front tooth, right next to it. I guess both teeth took a pretty hard blow. One chipped off and the other died. So, now Camden is no longer just Daddy’s boy. He is, once again, truly half Mommy and half Daddy, with one chipped tooth (like Daddy) and one gray tooth (like Mommy…well, like Mommy was before I turned six and it fell out.)
Palmer: “Uh-Oh” as he dumps another cup of water on the floor.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Kids say the...well, you know
Palmer-isms:
1. “Uh Oh!” as he intentionally throws his plate full of food on the floor, or his shoe in the garbage can.
2. “Dada” which means bye-bye, and Dempsey (our dog), but not the one thing you’d expect.
3. And the ever popular “EEEEEHHHHH” screech that substitutes for all other words he doesn’t know. Needless to say, the majority of our days are filled with endless “EEEEHHHH’s.”
Camden-isms:
1. “Mommy, I don’t like fried chicken” while watching a KFC commercial, even though he has eaten it many times and never complained.
2. The increasingly popular, but not for long “Dempsey did it.”
3. And, my personal favorite, “Mommy, you have big boobies” A phrase completely foreign to little old A-cup me.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Circle of Life
I finally heard back, officially, on the results of Palmer’s MRI. I subscribe to the notion that “no news is good news.” But, after a week of nothing (I don’t think they were ever going to call me) I finally decided to call and ask. The nurse came on the phone and simply said, “everything is normal.” That’s it? What do we do now? Where do we go from here? Nothing and nowhere. So, there you go – everything is normal. Well, everything except our bank account, that is; $1,000 later…everything is normal.
Camden finally got to the dentist on Saturday. He did remarkably well. He only freaked out a little bit when it was his turn to climb in the chair, but he calmed down pretty quickly. Until the dentist put her mask on. That really sent him over the edge. I guess that’s a good thing. Kids should be afraid of masked (wo)men, right? Once he was on my lap, and the dentist was maskless, he let her look in his mouth and take a picture of his tooth. As I suspected, there was no cause for concern. The chipped edge isn’t sharp, so she didn’t bother putting any putty on it (probably more trouble than it’s worth). She said the tooth might die and turn gray, but that’s about it. Funny…when I was Camden’s age, I had dead, gray front teeth from my brother head-butting me with his giant melon head! (Aha…see how it all comes full circle?)
Camden finally got to the dentist on Saturday. He did remarkably well. He only freaked out a little bit when it was his turn to climb in the chair, but he calmed down pretty quickly. Until the dentist put her mask on. That really sent him over the edge. I guess that’s a good thing. Kids should be afraid of masked (wo)men, right? Once he was on my lap, and the dentist was maskless, he let her look in his mouth and take a picture of his tooth. As I suspected, there was no cause for concern. The chipped edge isn’t sharp, so she didn’t bother putting any putty on it (probably more trouble than it’s worth). She said the tooth might die and turn gray, but that’s about it. Funny…when I was Camden’s age, I had dead, gray front teeth from my brother head-butting me with his giant melon head! (Aha…see how it all comes full circle?)
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Head Case
Our latest adventure begins with Palmer's 12-month check-up last week (well, okay so it was a month late but I had to wait for my health insurance to kick in on March 1). They did the usual measurements of height, weight, head circumference, head circumference, and head circumference. Yes, they measured it three times just to be sure, and yes, his head circumference is 50 cm. Apparently that is way off the chart -- well over the 99th percentile. I thought it was a good thing. Big head...big brain...smart kid, right? Plus, big heads run in my family. I was sure that was all -- just a giant melon head on the poor kid. Doc, however,was concerned and ordered an MRI ASAP.
Since babies can't hold perfectly still for...well, any time at all, they have to be under general anesthesia for an MRI. That means, no food or drink after midnight the night before. Our appointment was not until 10 a.m. so I knew this was going to be an issue because, when it comes to Palmer and food, the kid can EAT! He was a bear all morning, and I had to time it wisely to get Camden to eat breakfast while I kept Palmer out of the kitchen because I knew the mere sight of food would throw him into a tizzy. At the hospital, Palmer did pretty well and even played quietly with toys until it was his turn for the gas. When the nurse asked if I had any questions, there was but one..."how soon afterward can he eat?"
When they were ready to begin, the nurse came back and scooped Palmer up and whisked him away. I was allowed to watch while the anesthesiologist fit the mask over his face, and then I was promptly instructed to leave. I am sure what she really said was, "He is going to be just fine, we'll take it from here. You can make your self comfortable in the waiting room and we will summon you when the procedure is finished so you can hold him in your arms, rest assured that he did just fine. You are such a good mother, so we'll care for him just as lovingly as if you were here yourself." But, what I heard was, "You can go now. The waiting room is that way." I didn't even get to give him one last hug and kiss, but I did a good job of holding back the tears. That is, until Rob called a few minutes later to see how everything was going, and asked, "did you cry?"
After two hours, once Palmer was fully awake, I was summoned from the waiting room by the recovery nurse. As soon as I walked into the recovery area, I could hear Palmer howling his "feed me now" cry. To my dismay (and contrary to the original nurse's answer) they would not let him eat in recovery. They said I should wait and see if he could keep down water and juice first and then wait another 30 minutes before introducing solid food. They were concerned because he was so violently agitated, but said that can sometimes be a side effect of the anesthesia. I, however, knew it was sometimes a side effect of different disorder I call "not having eaten since yesterday!" They let us leave after 30 minutes, warning me that he would likely be cranky the rest of the day. As soon as we were in the car, I started stuffing Cheerios in his face as fast as he could swallow. When we got home he ate, and ate, and ate. Interestingly enough, by the time he finished eating, the irritable side effect had also worn off -- what a coincidence. (BTW, he was successfully able to keep everything down, including the three bottles of water he drank)
As of this posting I am still waiting to hear from the doctor to find out what, if anything, the MRI revealed. The main thing they are checking for is hydrocephalus, which can't be cured, but can be successfully treated, but we believe he has a hereditary disorder called Chereck Head Syndrome (AKA giant melon head)...just as I suspected.
Since babies can't hold perfectly still for...well, any time at all, they have to be under general anesthesia for an MRI. That means, no food or drink after midnight the night before. Our appointment was not until 10 a.m. so I knew this was going to be an issue because, when it comes to Palmer and food, the kid can EAT! He was a bear all morning, and I had to time it wisely to get Camden to eat breakfast while I kept Palmer out of the kitchen because I knew the mere sight of food would throw him into a tizzy. At the hospital, Palmer did pretty well and even played quietly with toys until it was his turn for the gas. When the nurse asked if I had any questions, there was but one..."how soon afterward can he eat?"
When they were ready to begin, the nurse came back and scooped Palmer up and whisked him away. I was allowed to watch while the anesthesiologist fit the mask over his face, and then I was promptly instructed to leave. I am sure what she really said was, "He is going to be just fine, we'll take it from here. You can make your self comfortable in the waiting room and we will summon you when the procedure is finished so you can hold him in your arms, rest assured that he did just fine. You are such a good mother, so we'll care for him just as lovingly as if you were here yourself." But, what I heard was, "You can go now. The waiting room is that way." I didn't even get to give him one last hug and kiss, but I did a good job of holding back the tears. That is, until Rob called a few minutes later to see how everything was going, and asked, "did you cry?"
After two hours, once Palmer was fully awake, I was summoned from the waiting room by the recovery nurse. As soon as I walked into the recovery area, I could hear Palmer howling his "feed me now" cry. To my dismay (and contrary to the original nurse's answer) they would not let him eat in recovery. They said I should wait and see if he could keep down water and juice first and then wait another 30 minutes before introducing solid food. They were concerned because he was so violently agitated, but said that can sometimes be a side effect of the anesthesia. I, however, knew it was sometimes a side effect of different disorder I call "not having eaten since yesterday!" They let us leave after 30 minutes, warning me that he would likely be cranky the rest of the day. As soon as we were in the car, I started stuffing Cheerios in his face as fast as he could swallow. When we got home he ate, and ate, and ate. Interestingly enough, by the time he finished eating, the irritable side effect had also worn off -- what a coincidence. (BTW, he was successfully able to keep everything down, including the three bottles of water he drank)
As of this posting I am still waiting to hear from the doctor to find out what, if anything, the MRI revealed. The main thing they are checking for is hydrocephalus, which can't be cured, but can be successfully treated, but we believe he has a hereditary disorder called Chereck Head Syndrome (AKA giant melon head)...just as I suspected.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Tooth Dismay
Although there was no blood and no ER visit, this one was quite a doozy (sp?), and Camden's got the tooth to prove it, for another three years at least.
This is sooo ironic... I was going through the mail after dinner and found my insurance card for the dental insurance at my new job. The boys have never had dental insurance before, but they are young enough that I didn't think it mattered anyway. I was excited, so I announced to the boys that, as of March 1, everyone in the family was now cleared for dental work. YAY!
No joke, not an hour later, I had the boys in the bathtub and Camden was doing his usual acrobatic stunts and I was doing my usual yelling to "knock it off before you get hurt," and he was doing his usual ignoring everything I say. No sooner had the words "Mommy, I be vewy carefuw," come out of his mouth when his arm slipped out from underneath him, and he did a face plant on the edge of the tub.
He started to scream, so of course I did what any loving mother would do...I said "see, that's why I told you not to do that. I told you you were going to get hurt." I swear, I said that only after I confirmed there was no blood. When he wouldn't stop screaming, I investigated further. I gasped and said a very bad word when I saw it...
...A CHIPPED TOOTH!
It wasn't bad enough to need emergency care. It wasn't chipped high enough to bleed, and Camden was up to his old tricks within the hour. He has his first dentist appt. tomorrow just to make sure there was no root damage, and so they can put a little piece of putty on it to keep it from scraping his lip. TG for my new job and dental insurance!
It's funny. Everyone always comments that Camden looks just like Rob, and that is truer than ever. Now they have matching chipped teeth. Rob got his in a bunk bed related incident when he was nine, and it's been that way ever since. Camden's will be gone by the time he's six, but now that I think about it, we do have bunk beds for the boys. The beds are separate right now, and I think we'll keep it that way until they're old enough to know better (what age is that, 19? 20?)
This is sooo ironic... I was going through the mail after dinner and found my insurance card for the dental insurance at my new job. The boys have never had dental insurance before, but they are young enough that I didn't think it mattered anyway. I was excited, so I announced to the boys that, as of March 1, everyone in the family was now cleared for dental work. YAY!
No joke, not an hour later, I had the boys in the bathtub and Camden was doing his usual acrobatic stunts and I was doing my usual yelling to "knock it off before you get hurt," and he was doing his usual ignoring everything I say. No sooner had the words "Mommy, I be vewy carefuw," come out of his mouth when his arm slipped out from underneath him, and he did a face plant on the edge of the tub.
He started to scream, so of course I did what any loving mother would do...I said "see, that's why I told you not to do that. I told you you were going to get hurt." I swear, I said that only after I confirmed there was no blood. When he wouldn't stop screaming, I investigated further. I gasped and said a very bad word when I saw it...
...A CHIPPED TOOTH!
It wasn't bad enough to need emergency care. It wasn't chipped high enough to bleed, and Camden was up to his old tricks within the hour. He has his first dentist appt. tomorrow just to make sure there was no root damage, and so they can put a little piece of putty on it to keep it from scraping his lip. TG for my new job and dental insurance!
It's funny. Everyone always comments that Camden looks just like Rob, and that is truer than ever. Now they have matching chipped teeth. Rob got his in a bunk bed related incident when he was nine, and it's been that way ever since. Camden's will be gone by the time he's six, but now that I think about it, we do have bunk beds for the boys. The beds are separate right now, and I think we'll keep it that way until they're old enough to know better (what age is that, 19? 20?)
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