Here's the latest on my sweeties.
Dunh-dunh-dunh-DUNH! DEAN FINALLY HAS TEETH!
His two top teeth came in (pretty much at the same time) this week! Yay! Unlike with Cary's big rabbit teeth, you still can't really see Dean's unless he's laughing or grinning really wide, but they're there. Clear as day.
So now the tooth count in our house is:
Cary = 4
Dean = 2
Yay! My child will not be toothless for life (as was my fear).
Dean also took a few tentative steps today!!! It was more of a shuffle than actual steps, but he propelled himself an inch or two forward while upright, so I say that counts! Walking cannot be too far away now, folks. Ack!
The boys have a new push toy my sister gave me that used to belong to their cousin Russy. It's hysterical because it's also a ride-on toy, so one can ride while the other pushes. They find this INFINITELY enjoyable. And I love watching them play together. It makes me feel all warm inside.
Speaking of my sister, she took this video of Dean and Cary dancing at my mom's house the other day and it is sooooo funny. Please check out these two dancing machines! Especially Dean and his "slow groove." LOL!
I have started giving the boys spoons at dinner, to start getting them used to utensils. Even though I know we're a long way off from them actually using the utensils, I'm told it's good to start getting them acquainted with the idea.
Cary enjoys when I help him scoop a little food up on the spoon and then steer the spoon in his mouth. He finds this hysterical. Dean, on the other hand, will not let me touch his spoon, his hands or his food (which he throws on the floor). It is soooo frustrating! The only way I can get him to eat is to "hide" real food inside a scoop of yogurt. But this is not teaching him to eat his dinner -- and it's giving in to his desire for sweets, which I didn't want to do. But oh well -- what's the alternative?
Cary and Dean are now able to follow simple instructions, such as "Hand Mommy the shoe," or "Find your book," or "Lie down." This is awesome, as this clearly means we are not far from being able to say, "Go downstairs and get yourself some cereal so Mommy and Daddy can sleep in."
Can't wait!
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Shocked. And awed. And shocked some more.
I haven't posted here in awhile, mostly because I have been in a total blur.
I wasn't even sure if I was going to post this, because I haven't shared this with even very close friends yet, so it's a bit unfair to share it with strangers. (Well, technically, this blog is really my thoughts for ME, but other people do read it, soooo...)
Anyway, here's the thing:
I am pregnant.
Just typing those words seems CRAZY.
I am pregnant.
This may not sound like a big deal, but consider this:
1) Cary and Dean came into this Earth with -- how shall we say? -- help. Yes, very expensive help. Lester and I needed this help, because we were given the impression that we could not conceive on our own - or at least that it was very unlikely that we could conceive on our own.
2) My twin boys - TWINS - just turned a year old! They won't even be two-years-old yet when this one is born. Lord, Jesus. Help me.
3) I was on the fence about whether or not I even wanted another child. In fact, I was sitting on the fence, but 3/4 of my body was hanging on the side of "No, we do not want another child, are you freaking kidding me?" Lester was much more pro-procreate, but I told him that I would not even THINK about it until Cary and Dean turned 3. THREE. Not ONE, people. THREE.
I am seriously shocked. And I have known since Friday (it's Wednesday), so you would think the shock would have worn off some. But nooooo. I am still utterly and completely shocked.
How in the hell? And also...WTF?
I'm sure I will be happy at some point. After all, babies are a blessing. And God has clearly decided to bless us in a huge way! After all, we prayed and prayed and prayed for one baby and then we got twins. And now...SURPRISE! A third.
But right now, we are both reeling trying to figure out how we will make this all work: financially, physically, practically, emotionally, etc.
Who will watch THREE kids during the day?
How the HELL will we pay for that? We're broke now as it is!
How am I going to do this?
Is this fair to poor Cary and Dean?
How will my marriage survive three babies under age 2??
I could go on and on.
Anyway....there's my news. I have more to post later about the boys but I had to get that out first.
I will be taking all sympathy cards. LOL!
(P.S. New baby, if you're reading this years from now, please know that Mommy and Daddy both LOVE and WANT you tremendously! Blame this on the hormones! :-) )
I wasn't even sure if I was going to post this, because I haven't shared this with even very close friends yet, so it's a bit unfair to share it with strangers. (Well, technically, this blog is really my thoughts for ME, but other people do read it, soooo...)
Anyway, here's the thing:
I am pregnant.
Just typing those words seems CRAZY.
I am pregnant.
This may not sound like a big deal, but consider this:
1) Cary and Dean came into this Earth with -- how shall we say? -- help. Yes, very expensive help. Lester and I needed this help, because we were given the impression that we could not conceive on our own - or at least that it was very unlikely that we could conceive on our own.
2) My twin boys - TWINS - just turned a year old! They won't even be two-years-old yet when this one is born. Lord, Jesus. Help me.
3) I was on the fence about whether or not I even wanted another child. In fact, I was sitting on the fence, but 3/4 of my body was hanging on the side of "No, we do not want another child, are you freaking kidding me?" Lester was much more pro-procreate, but I told him that I would not even THINK about it until Cary and Dean turned 3. THREE. Not ONE, people. THREE.
I am seriously shocked. And I have known since Friday (it's Wednesday), so you would think the shock would have worn off some. But nooooo. I am still utterly and completely shocked.
How in the hell? And also...WTF?
I'm sure I will be happy at some point. After all, babies are a blessing. And God has clearly decided to bless us in a huge way! After all, we prayed and prayed and prayed for one baby and then we got twins. And now...SURPRISE! A third.
But right now, we are both reeling trying to figure out how we will make this all work: financially, physically, practically, emotionally, etc.
Who will watch THREE kids during the day?
How the HELL will we pay for that? We're broke now as it is!
How am I going to do this?
Is this fair to poor Cary and Dean?
How will my marriage survive three babies under age 2??
I could go on and on.
Anyway....there's my news. I have more to post later about the boys but I had to get that out first.
I will be taking all sympathy cards. LOL!
(P.S. New baby, if you're reading this years from now, please know that Mommy and Daddy both LOVE and WANT you tremendously! Blame this on the hormones! :-) )
Friday, June 24, 2011
Two summer colds! One sleepless night.
Dean came down with Cary's summer cold last night, and the draining sinuses woke him up out of his sleep (believe me, this is a big deal, as Dean almost never wakes up at night), not once, not twice, not three times, but four -- FOUR -- times!
Of course, his wailing woke up Prince Lightsleeper, and so Lester and I spent the night going back and forth between their cribs, wiping their noses, re-situating them on pillows (to help with the draining), handing them their loveys and covering them up with blankets.
This went on from about 11 p.m. to 2:30 a.m.
I resorted to giving them 4 extra oz. of milk to help ease them back into sleep. Let's hope that doesn't come back to bite me in the butt.
This morning, when the boys woke up, I was worried they'd be in rotten moods, but they were just as sweet as could be, even though their runny noses seem to be getting worse, not better. Poor little things. WHEN DO THEY LEARN TO BLOW?? Ugh!
In fact, the only rotten mood in the house - was mine, apparently.
I'm drinking coffee now (which I rarely do; I'm a tea girl) so let's see if it helps improve my attitude a little bit.
In the meantime, I'm re-thinking our weekend plans to go to my Mom's and go visiting my Granddad and Lester's aunt. Two sick babies in our own house is bad enough. In someone else's house? That might be enough to make me sick!
Of course, his wailing woke up Prince Lightsleeper, and so Lester and I spent the night going back and forth between their cribs, wiping their noses, re-situating them on pillows (to help with the draining), handing them their loveys and covering them up with blankets.
This went on from about 11 p.m. to 2:30 a.m.
I resorted to giving them 4 extra oz. of milk to help ease them back into sleep. Let's hope that doesn't come back to bite me in the butt.
This morning, when the boys woke up, I was worried they'd be in rotten moods, but they were just as sweet as could be, even though their runny noses seem to be getting worse, not better. Poor little things. WHEN DO THEY LEARN TO BLOW?? Ugh!
In fact, the only rotten mood in the house - was mine, apparently.
I'm drinking coffee now (which I rarely do; I'm a tea girl) so let's see if it helps improve my attitude a little bit.
In the meantime, I'm re-thinking our weekend plans to go to my Mom's and go visiting my Granddad and Lester's aunt. Two sick babies in our own house is bad enough. In someone else's house? That might be enough to make me sick!
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Summer colds, shoes and time-outs
Cary has a summer cold.
It's not keeping him down too much, thank goodness. He's still the same affable, giggling baby, but with a little less pep and a lot more snot.
His sniffles kept Michelle from taking the boys to the zoo this week (well, that and the fact that it was 96 degrees and rainy), but they seem to be having a good time in the house, playing and dancing and learning to crawl up the stairs. Yes, my boys have learned to crawl up the entire set of stairs.
Lord, help us!
In other new things, Dean has learned to say the word "shoe." He says it with his lips puckered, so it comes out more like the way we'd say Zsa Zsa Gabor, or Zhu Zhu pets.
"Zzzhuu?"
And he always says it just the way I typed it, with a question mark at the end. "Zzhuu?"
Picture him trying to put my shoe on his little foot and going, "Zzhhuu?" It's the cutest thing.
What's not cute? Cary and Dean have decided that they will only eat foods they can feed themselves -- have I written about this already? I feel a sense of de ja vu -- and so dinnertime in our house is now infinitely messier and longer and nerve-wracking for Lester and me.
It's nerve-wracking for Lester because he is mess-o-phobic, so the food on the floor and in their hair and thrown against the wall drives him nuts. It's nerve-wracking for me because I cannot imagine how in the world they're getting enough to eat. Dean, especially. Cary actually eats the little pieces of food we put on his tray, and he'll also allow us to spoon feed him a few spoonfuls, on top of what he's able to get in his mouth himself.
Dean, on the other hand, eats maybe three or four pieces of food and throws the rest on the floor, methodically, one tiny piece at a time, or in a grand, sweeping motion. But he won't allow us to spoon feed him at all. At. All. How does he sleep through the night, hungry? Urgh!
And here's the big news of this week: I have had to institute a mini Time Out for the babies when they insist on doing things like pulling the outlet covers out of the walls, hitting me or each other, spitting or throwing things, despite my admonishing.
Time out for 13 month olds? Who knew?
When they insist on being, well... being 13-month-olds, I firmly tell them "No _____," (fill in the blank with "hitting," "spitting," "being mean to your brother," etc.) and then I put the offending toddler in the Pack 'n Play and walk away to continue reading or playing with the other baby. 30-seconds of this is enough to send said toddler over the edge, back into compliance.
I never imagined having to use time-out on babies this young, but I really had to start doing something. They can get out. of. control. Little crazies!!
Confession: I always feel sad for the poor little baby wailing in the Pack 'n Play, but what I love the most about this age is that once I take them out, hug and kiss them and get back down on the floor with them, they're all smiles again. Like nothing ever happened.
I wonder how long this no-pain kind of discipline will last.
It's not keeping him down too much, thank goodness. He's still the same affable, giggling baby, but with a little less pep and a lot more snot.
His sniffles kept Michelle from taking the boys to the zoo this week (well, that and the fact that it was 96 degrees and rainy), but they seem to be having a good time in the house, playing and dancing and learning to crawl up the stairs. Yes, my boys have learned to crawl up the entire set of stairs.
Lord, help us!
In other new things, Dean has learned to say the word "shoe." He says it with his lips puckered, so it comes out more like the way we'd say Zsa Zsa Gabor, or Zhu Zhu pets.
"Zzzhuu?"
And he always says it just the way I typed it, with a question mark at the end. "Zzhuu?"
Picture him trying to put my shoe on his little foot and going, "Zzhhuu?" It's the cutest thing.
What's not cute? Cary and Dean have decided that they will only eat foods they can feed themselves -- have I written about this already? I feel a sense of de ja vu -- and so dinnertime in our house is now infinitely messier and longer and nerve-wracking for Lester and me.
It's nerve-wracking for Lester because he is mess-o-phobic, so the food on the floor and in their hair and thrown against the wall drives him nuts. It's nerve-wracking for me because I cannot imagine how in the world they're getting enough to eat. Dean, especially. Cary actually eats the little pieces of food we put on his tray, and he'll also allow us to spoon feed him a few spoonfuls, on top of what he's able to get in his mouth himself.
Dean, on the other hand, eats maybe three or four pieces of food and throws the rest on the floor, methodically, one tiny piece at a time, or in a grand, sweeping motion. But he won't allow us to spoon feed him at all. At. All. How does he sleep through the night, hungry? Urgh!
And here's the big news of this week: I have had to institute a mini Time Out for the babies when they insist on doing things like pulling the outlet covers out of the walls, hitting me or each other, spitting or throwing things, despite my admonishing.
Time out for 13 month olds? Who knew?
When they insist on being, well... being 13-month-olds, I firmly tell them "No _____," (fill in the blank with "hitting," "spitting," "being mean to your brother," etc.) and then I put the offending toddler in the Pack 'n Play and walk away to continue reading or playing with the other baby. 30-seconds of this is enough to send said toddler over the edge, back into compliance.
I never imagined having to use time-out on babies this young, but I really had to start doing something. They can get out. of. control. Little crazies!!
Confession: I always feel sad for the poor little baby wailing in the Pack 'n Play, but what I love the most about this age is that once I take them out, hug and kiss them and get back down on the floor with them, they're all smiles again. Like nothing ever happened.
I wonder how long this no-pain kind of discipline will last.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Good Enough Parenting
Bloggy friends:
I read a good article today in The Atlantic and wanted to share it with all of you.
Also, I want to enshrine it here on my blog for all of eternity, so I can refer to it whenever I have the urge to tell Cary or Dean, "Good job!!!" for breathing in and out successfully.
How to Land Your Kid in Therapy
It's long, so don't attempt to read it while los ninos are awake and cranky!
But it's totally worth the read.
I read a good article today in The Atlantic and wanted to share it with all of you.
Also, I want to enshrine it here on my blog for all of eternity, so I can refer to it whenever I have the urge to tell Cary or Dean, "Good job!!!" for breathing in and out successfully.
How to Land Your Kid in Therapy
It's long, so don't attempt to read it while los ninos are awake and cranky!
But it's totally worth the read.
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