Like brother, like sister

Ezra--3 months old and probably umpteen pounds. I mean, look at his paws.



Iris--8 months actual, 5 months adjusted. Finally on the charts for her weight and length at 5 months old. Granted only in the 3rd percentile, but I expect major beefing up in the winter months (much like her mother). Also, with the crazy hair. We already trimmed it in the back, but she made need a trim on the side. Lordy.

So very much hand to mouth

My body this time around--and by "this time around" I mean "post pregnancy from hell"--is trying to find its own rhythm.

The rhythm it seems to be most favoring involves raging PMS. Sometimes with a dash of crazy emotions but almost always with a feeling that I must eat a week's worth of groceries. On the hour.

Yesterday I had a grande iced mocha from Starbucks and a slice of their banana walnut bread (which this morning I found out contains 490 calories. A SLICE. I said "No thanks" after that inquiry.). Then it was breakfast-for-lunch while Iris napped and I cooked myself five slices of bacon, three eggs and three pieces of toast. For dinner we had risotto with grilled steak on top and then I ate four pieces of carmel/pecan/chocolate from a chocolate shop Iris and I discovered while walking.

Balls.

I weighed myself this morning and combined with the middle tire of bloat thanks to the PMS (and no doubt the sodium consumed yesterday), the number was dodgy. And yet I want to keep eating like a fat kid.

The desire for a Wendy's cheeseburger and fries and frosty haunts me at night.

The want for Ruffles and french onion dip is almost too much to handle.

The only solutions to the PMS seem to be: a) muscle through these hellacious days each month or b) go on the Pill. Neither feel highly desirable.

I suppose I could exhibit some self-control, but I WANT TO EAT.

*exhale*

Perhaps I need some sort of food/PMS intervention.

Or to stuff my face.

A sleeping baby and an avocado thief

Lickety split

I have about 30 minutes until Iris wakes up, so there's! not! much! time! But...I wanted to tell you about some things. Some things that each time I use one, I think, "I am so digging (x)."

Not much time for a narrative or fancy hyperlinks on each, but know that they're great, they've made me look a tick snazzier and I'd buy them all again.

Commence!

1. Aveeno Clear Complexion Cleansing Pads. Smooth side, rough side, good foam, good rinse off.
2. Clinique's All About Eyes. Not irritating, feels nice, great under makeup.
3. CoverGirl's LipSlicks in Demure. Cheap, great color, stays on longer than I usually expect.
4. Neutragena's Healthy Lengths mascara in Black. Unexpectedly awesome brush, goes on smooth, feels like I'm treating my lashes a bit nicer.
5. Chi Shine Infusion spray. (Haven't used this in awhile, since I'm not really heat styling my hair right now--but it's marvelous for when I am.) Ridiculously awesome smell, can be used on dry or wet hair, fine mist, fabulous shine.
6. L'Oreal's EverPure Moisture Leave-In Conditioner. Clear, light, nice smell, hair is feeling niiiice.
7. Garnier Fructis Full Control Anti-Humidity Hairspray. Perhaps the creme de la creme of discoveries this summer, it provides incredible hold in the best, most natural of ways. On dry hair for a bit of hold, it's phenomenal. On my wet, pulled back hair to control loose bits, it keeps them stuck and not loosey goosey. Lovelovelove this hairspray.

Minus the All About Eyes, I bought everything at Target. Iris and I love Target. I haphazardly (and my "haphazardly" I mean "cockeyed" and "hanging precariously") put her in the Moby and we troll the aisles.

I've got about two and half weeks left before I head back to work, so if you've got anything stashed away and want to share the discovery--clue me in!

My name is Iris and I like to roll over

With Ezra the only developmental milestones I was really worried about were--first and foremost--when can we expect him to sleep more than five hours and try cry it out if needed, walking and talking. Other than those, everything was kinda received like, "Wow! He can do tricks!" Rolling over, clapping (that was my all-time favorite), sitting up, crawling--nice going, kid! We didn't necessarily "work" on things other than doing the requisite tummy time and, you know, trying to be good parents.

With Iris, it feels like a different ballgame all together. I am mentally wringing my hands 23 out of 24 hours of the day hoping her four month prematurity gap closes by the expected age of 2. Doing the tummy time. Keeping her off the flat spot so that she can avoid wearing a helmet. Taking her to outpatient physical, speech (feeding) and occupational therapy appointments every week. Having regular in-house occupational therapy appointments. Taking her to a developmental pediatrician in addition to her regular pediatrician. Practicing rolling. Practicing sitting up. Working on taking a spoon. I feel like with her by brain is always shouting, "You can do it! I know it!" Feeling tense in my tummy that she might not do certain things.

But...today.

Today Iris rolled from her tummy to her back and started reaching for toys. All things that I took completely for granted with Ezra, and pretty much every other child I've met, but with Iris means she's on track and chugging along. It means that she can learn how to do things. That she does understand what her therapists are showing her. That the gap is already closing.

And hot diggity dog she's cute.

Mellow Marvin Sunday

Due to the freakin' humidity that we've got going on here, T and Iris hung out at home this morning while Ezra and I picked up doughnuts (glazed!), walked around our town, went to the park and lake, hit a school playground and then got some lunch.

By the end of all of that it was 12:40pm, I was sweating like hog and Ezra was burned the eff out. But! With a dash of Caillou, a three hour nap, and a shower--peace was restored.

It was after Ezra's nap that I was ready for bedtime. So, so tired. CurlyGirl texted me that the a coup was being staged at her home and I responded with, "I wish the day was over." She texted back, "Me too." Sometimes running away to a hotel for a few hours not for rampant sex but for a nap on some sheets someone else changes sounds like heaven on a stick.

Thankfully, my tiredness was met with agreeability (even a word?). I went to get Ezra up and he simply pointed to the picture Bible on his nightstand and said, "Read Bible, please? And paci?" Sounded good to me. Homeboy stayed in there for an extra 30 minutes which in Toddler years is, like, a year. Iris and T were still chilling on the couch. T, I think, was watching some show about women in prison. He loves these shows.

Upon closer inspection, it appears he's reading about the ten plagues. God love him he's going to be a pastor. Who doesn't wear pants. And loves pacis.

Perhaps not a good combination.

Enjoying some show about women in cell block 9.

Love/hate Saturday

Love: Seeing my v. fabulous co-workers while at work today

Hate: Am a teensy bit scared about the state of the house when I return. Balls. I hope it hasn't burned down.

Love: I remembered a birthday card for someone

Hate: I started to write the wrong name on the outside. Jeez.

Love: I am wearing size 6 pants today--and they are loose. I haven't worn that size in, oh, a long ass (and a small ass) time. Believe me. A loooonnng time. I attribute it to having zero time to eat.

Hate: I'm not sure that the Toddler Plus Infant Diet Plan is entirely sustainable or appropriate for the larger population.

Love: On my lunch today, I totally caught up on my Google Reader and was a commenting machine.

Hate: Apparently, some books I ordered from Amazon were delivered on Wednesday. I don't have said books so someone else is apparently reading about why hitting your friends isn't ideal.

Love: Ezra helped me pick out my shoes this morning. They match!

Hate: They are not comfortable. Thanks for the blister, son.

Love: I am trying to make the most of my remaining month off and see lots of family.

Hate: I have to work a few Sundays, but I'm trying to find subs/suckas to take those Reference shifts for me.

Love: Air conditioning

Hate: This weather is killing me. So, so hot. So, so humid.

Love: I just discovered that baby wipes totally freshen up a hot armpit lickety split. Swipe of the wipe, swipe of deodorant--it's like you took a shower!

Hate: Can I even tell you how many wipes we go through on baby butts? If I'm going to start wiping my armpits with them, we need to buy stock.

Love: I think I may have figured out how to use my Moby Wrap. Kinda. Maybe. I went back to the store where I bought it and they gave me a tutorial.

Hate: Mid-wrap it still pisses Iris off but she loves it once she's in it.

Love: Time to leave in 10 minutes

Hate: Sweet Lord, what to have for dinner?


Loving, hating?...You?

Today

1. Iris is taking her second nap of the day. God bless her.
2. I drank one of two too many iced mochas and now have angry guts.
3. We ran three errands before 10:00am.
4. Am appreciating the cooler breeze and lack of humidity.
5. I am experiencing a resurgence in cravings for key lime pie and Frosties.
6. T is back in town and trying to get home early so I can have a hot minute to myself.
7. I am dreading work tomorrow. Having volunteered for a weekend reference shift back in December felt more gracious than I currently feel like being.
8. I am still rejoicing having secured a fabulous nanny for Iris
9. Ezra and I snuggled and watched Blue's Clues in bed this morning. I smelled his hair and we both got a late start to the day.
10. Iris and I may go to the mall to find her some clothes. (The top below is actually supposed to be a dress.)
11. I feel kind of sad and kind of sleepy.
12. I miss my friends--both in town and out of town.

What's your day been like?

What! What!

There's been not much new to write about that would necessitate an entire post.

We've found a nanny and my heart is so completely at ease and happy and joyful about her that I could scream. The fact that we would need to hire someone to care for Iris from this August to next May (end of RSV, flu, cold season) has been a rock in my gut since she was born. The horror stories of nannies, the how would we find someone we trusted, the who would we find to tend to some of Iris' more unusual needs, the wonder if someone could even be both fabulous and trustworthy have weighed on me since last winter.

I am so happy to have found someone that not only will love Iris but is excited to care for her and help her develop, is not phased by feeding her through the g-tube, is someone we infinitely trust and has experience with kids.

Arghhh. T almost cried at work--I kid not--when I told him J accepted the job. It'd been weighing on him too.

Speaking of T, he's out of town for two days and I have to man all feedings tonight. Boo. Am very much a panty-waist and usually leave the 10pm and Midnight feedings to T; retiring at the fabulous time of 9:30pm. Tonight it's a solo gig and I'm feeling more than a little pissy about it. Then I feel like I whiner for feeling pissy and repeat. T is appreciated even more when he's gone.

Iris is ten and a half pounds and grown out of most of her newborn clothes. I, however, cannot find larger sizes in summer clothes because all of the stores have put out winter clothes. It is currently 92 here. Rat bastards. Am I supposed to have a hoopty hillbilly baby in just a diaper?

Red Door and her kidlets are coming to visit tomorrow. Holla! I am giddy in my stomach.

Sigh.

I just had to go in Iris' room and tell her, "Listen. Do not stick your entire paw in your mouth--the retching is not okay. And I'm not picking you up. You need to take a nappy." She just stared at me. Maybe we'll be going to the grocery store earlier than anticipated.

What else...

Sunday was a rough day. I missed Noah and felt his absence perhaps the most than since November 12. It was hard and horrible and I cried at Starbucks and at the pool and at the park. I'm not sure why--but I just kept thinking that he should be here and be with Iris and why didn't he make it and Ezra had a brother but then lost him. It's been harder lately and I don't know why. I just miss him

Lordy. Iris is awake. So much for that reliable afternoon nap. Apparently, repeated gagging will wake a girl up.

Off to the store...

At the pool

Evolution of the hairy eyeball

When Iris first got home she was a bit...persnickety. She would be content hanging out somewhere, but would cry if we picked her up or moved her. She'd fuss if we layed her down flat on the floor to play. There were many, many looks of consternation and frequent furrowed brows. It was if she were equal parts thrown off by her new surroundings and company with a dash of, "You're not going to poke me, are you?" Because she got a lot of poking over the course of six months in the hospital.

Her furrowed brow has since relaxed but she does whip the best hairy eyeball known to man. If she could talk, I'm pretty sure she'd say, "I will cut a bitch."

Lord help us all once she enters adolescence.

More than co-worker

An exchange with Fanny via text last night:

Me: Thought you'd like to know I'm having wine and bacon for dinner. Don't be jealous.

Fanny: I'm crying. I cannot contain the jealousy. It's bubbling over into my eyes.

Me: I'm pretty sure this is what the pilgrims should've offered the indians for thanksgiving dinner. Then maybe we wouldn't have had so much drama.

Fanny: Maybe we should forward this knowledge to the terrorists.

Me: "Put down your weapons! I have bacon and a nicely chilled white!"

Fanny: "Wait...Stop stop! There's red in the humvee. Kill pollution, not yourself!"

Me: WAIT! They're probably Muslims which means no bacon! Plan thwarted.

Fanny and I have also had text discussions about how much Willoughby is a douche while watching Sense and Sensibility at our respective houses.

I love texting.

Leaning Tower of Siblings

So in looking at that picture of Iris I posted yesterday, I realized it seemed kind of familiar.

That's right! It appears that on a slow afternoon I love to loosely prop my children up on furniture and take pictures before they mostly fall over.


Heh.


Ezra, two months.



Iris, seven months actual / four months corrected

Oh! So, Iris is on even less oxygen--.1L which is about as low as you can go before jumping ship. She's also off it completely for two hours a day and doing great. The pulmonologist has told us that she needs to be hooked up to her monitor at all times to measure her oxygen saturation levels and ensure she's not tanking like the Mother Ship, but T and I have made an executive decision to, uh, not. The monitor is a pain. She's never had a history of apneas or bradycardias. It's big. She's on it 12 out of 24 hours of the day (6:30pm when we're getting her ready for bed to 7:15am when she wakes up) and when she is on it at night, it rarely goes off. So...yeah...ixnay on that.

Although, I'm just enough of a Debbie Dogooder that I am working on excuses just in case the doctor gets pushy with me.

Oh! Oh! And Iris weighs over 10 pounds now, is super long like a noodle and has officially outgrown almost all of her newborn clothes; now sporting 3 month clothing. For non-mom people, the clothing benchmarks are important (on playground: "So what does size does she wear?") because it means your baby is big. And healthy. And growing. In Iris' case it means that, at least with her sundresses, she's closing the gap slowly but surely.

Ezra continues to talk like a fiend and have periods of extreme sauciness (ie hitting). In fact in the course of today I ordered a book--Hands are Not for Hitting--and had to field the question, "Does Darth Vader have a banjo?" Handling both without looking like douche parent has left me fumbling.

T is a fiend with his charts and graphs. His role at work has changed into a global one so he's waking up for meetings at 6:00am to talk to people in Germany or China. He's also a bit more stressed than he used to be but that could be because of my raging PMS-induced sensitivity ("Stop looking at me like that?!! And why won't you huuugggg meeeee?! WHERE ARE THE COOKIES?!!!"), having two children, getting less sleep, nail-biting soccer games that must be watched on our DVR or any other host of reasons.

I am doing well. Iris and I are in a flow during the day. A flow only to be tossed to hell when I return to work in August. Developments in the nanny front continue to chug along and I hope to have things solidified by the end of July so I can stop thinking about it already. I am also currently tres bloated thanks to PMS (see above) and loving every minute of my maternity leave because it means stretchy waist bands day in and day out. A co-worker has suggested that I gently ease back into structured pants before my first day back to work so that it's not a shock to my system/squishy mid-section. Good in theory, I suppose.

I miss all of you so much. I am trying, trying to keep up with my Google Reader, but it comes in spurts. Email I'm a leeeettle better at. Twitter--not much to sniff at. Blogging--trying my hardest.

So, tell me what's new with all of you...I so desp. want to know.

Half a face, wacky eyes, pants undone

Ansel Adams we are not.

Thumbs down

Last night in bed I totally had the monkey brain. Slept super restless. Kept thinking/half-dreaming we forgot to put Ezra and Iris in their respective beds and accidentally left them roaming the house at night. It was odd.

To help me fall asleep when I was younger, I would stare at my pastel pink digital clock and once the minute turned, I would start counting to 60. The goal was to hit 60 right as the minute turned again. Three rounds of this and I was usually out. Consider it the Dork's Version of counting sheep.

What I ended up doing last night is thinking of things I hate. Not like loathing and people who suck and other mean things, but things Things I Don't Necessarily Prefer. I didn't get very far before passing out and dreaming wackadoodle things, but what I did come up with was:

1. Crumbies at the bottom of my purse
2. Green candy
3. Chipped toenail polish
4. Buying a bathing suit and finding out the detachable strap wasn't included or was snagglepussed
5. Tripping over a slightly raised area in the floor or sidewalk
6. My period
7. Feeling ill-prepared
8. Being sweaty
9. The feeling I have after eating more than 1.5 hot dogs
10. Hot sand
11. Realizing I've seen a number of people while my zipper is down
12. Having tangles in my hair
13. Being unable to change the channel because two things are recording on our DVR

The god's honest truth

I sometimes wonder what the hot hell we were thinking in having more kids. We had it soooo easy with Ezra and now things are...harder. Harder isn't always easy or fun. I like easy and fun. I am lazy.

I cried the other day when Iris was on her playmat and she reached out for the toy dangling in front of her. Small advances towards her calendar age (seven months) and away from her due date age (almost four months).

I miss working. A lot. My brain feels squishy and I feel cagey at home.

My hair is liking the fact that it hasn't been blown dry or flat ironed in over a month.

I put on makeup pretty much everyday. My hereditary undereye circles are not to be sniffed at.

Ezra is in the 85th percentile for weight and the 70th for height. Iris isn't even remotely on the weight/height growth curve for her age. At all.

I am in LOVELOVELOVE with the Fabulous Beekman Boys on the Planet Green channel. They represent everything--collared shirts, goats, type A-ness, witticisms, a couple that grouses at one another--that I love.

There are two couples, each without kids, that live in close proximity to our house. I sometimes see their fun parties, evening runs, sits on the porch and miss those days. I wouldn't trade Ezra asking for a "Hug, Mama!" or Iris' laughing with a wrinkled nose, so I wonder why I miss living unencumbered so much. Because I do miss it.

Yesterday I wanted to be pregnant. The night before I wanted to tell T that I was ready to have my tubes tied. I'm not sure how I feel about more kids. I will be 35 this year and T is 42--I kind of feel like the pressure is on to freakin' figure it out already.

Why doesn't anyone really talk about the changes that occur to one's marriage as kids arrive?

I discovered the Holy Grail of chicken salad at an area grocery store. I will eat this stuff at 7:45 in the morning and at 2:30 in the afternoon. Holy moses, it's good.

Yesterday I drank three iced mochas and didn't eat anything until dinner. I don't remember much about the day. Kind of a walking black-out. The good thing is that Iris and I took a five mile walk and I barely felt it.

Anything you want to get off your chest?