Lamp Lust

I'm starting to plan Charlotte's Big Girl Room. Considering my recent obsession with Tar-jay's Liberty of London line, I'm thinking I may need to incorporate one of these little beauties into the design somewhere. Aren't they cute? (It makes me laugh that I said "design." Like I am capable of designing anything.)

My other idea was something like this little jadite number from The Lovely's shop at Etsy.












I have no idea what to do with the rest of the room, but I figure a lamp is a good enough place to start! What do you think?

It's Too Early in the Morning for a Heart Attack!

I think my heart rate has slowed enough to be able to recount my morning's adventures for you.

The day started off alright; kids slept 'til 7am, which is rare. No major tantrums before breakfast. Gavin actually put on pants today (although insisted on wearing his Wiggles Concert Tee for the third day in a row. Whatevs.). Things were looking up.

And then, all of the sudden, I was locked in Gavin's room.

Let me explain. Gavin WILL NOT stay in his bed at night. We've tried all of SuperNanny's techniques; it just won't happen. So (and I hesitate to type this at the risk of you thinking I'm cruel) we turned his doorknob around so we can lock him in at night. This really did work like a charm. For a few nights, he tried to get out, but then realized it was futile. Now he stays put at night. Problem solved! In fact, some nights I don't even lock it, but he doesn't know that, so he doesn't even attempt to get out anymore.

Well, I was getting Gavin dressed in his room this morning, and Nathan was playing beside me. And by getting Gavin dressed I mean I was trying to rationalize with a three-year-old the reasons why it was NOT COOL to wear your Wiggles shirt three days in a row, and that it was kind of chilly and not really appropriate weather for short sleeves. And then I heard his bedroom door shut. Charlotte is a huge fan of closing doors. I'm not sure why; it's a bit of an obsession for her at the moment. OCD prehaps? She needs all the doors upstairs to be closed. But that's for another post on another day. So I calmly get up and go to open the door. And IT WAS LOCKED. From the outside!! Panic set in. I don't have a phone in there. I have no way to call for help. A million things were running through my head (they were completing rational things, like jumping out of the window, using my Hulk-like strength to rip the door off the frame, and telepathically contacting Michael to come home and save us).

In a very calm, cool, and collected voice, so as not to scare anyone, I said, "HOLY S#*T!! CHARLOTTE!! UNLOCK THE $)%*$#* DOOR!!!!!" She was trying, but she isn't entirely great with doorknobs, and also isn't entirely great with following directions. So I tried another angle, and again, calmly stated, "GO GET THE PHONE!! DO YOU HEAR ME?? GET THE PHONE FROM MY ROOM AND SLIDE IT UNDER THE DOOR!" While she was doing that, I was summoning MacGyver and untwisting a coat hanger to try to unlock it myself. I could hear Charlotte trying to cram something under the door, so relief started to set in...until I realized she was shoving one of her hair bows under there. Which, under normal circumstances, might be funny. But not right now.

After a moment, she did manage to open the door. Crisis averted. But let's just say for now I have little skeleton keys stashed in Gavin's room should that ever happen again, and I think the knob's getting turned around again tonight.

It's like a bad sitcom, right? Right. Except it's MY. LIFE.

On another note, how cute are these little juice glasses from Crate and Barrel? I WANT them. I wish they weren't glass though, because they will certainly break if my kids use them. If they can't handle doorknobs, then they definitely can't handle juice glasses.

A New Era

How can it be that I haven't blogged for over a year? I'll tell you how; because of these guys:




Actually, beyond the trials and tribulations of dealing with the three little ones, our desktop computer went kaput about a year ago. We've been using my school laptop, which is a D-I-N-O-S-A-U-R. It literally takes about an hour to upload a photo. My mom has been kind enough to loan me her laptop for the evening, so I was able to check in on all the inactivity on my blog.

I really would like to try blogging in earnest again. No promises. But I am not good with taking photos, or videos (poor Nathan hasn't even been in ONE video yet!), or writing things in baby books, so I would love for this blog to serve as a record for the kids when they are a bit older.

Let's hope they can overlook all of the Mommy Meltdown Moments.

Happy 2nd Birthday, Charlotte and Gavin!

Why I Hate Tubby Time, or An Exercise in Futility

I can bathe Charlotte and Gavin in 90 seconds flat.

I am in no way bragging about this. In fact, I would love it if the twins would take 30 minute baths, because they seem to love being in the water. The problem is that they splash. And by splash I mean they literally throw every drop of water out of the tub and onto the floor, the walls, and their mother.

Since they seem to have difficulty lately comprehending the word "no," and generally seem incapable of following even the smallest direction, I've decided that when they splash, then tubby time is over. I believe they are right on the cusp on understanding cause and effect, and I'm hoping this little exercise will speed up their understanding and stop the splashing once and for all. I'll tell you one thing, it has stopped the amount of times I've yelled, "For the love of God, STOP SPLASHING RIGHT NOW! CAN"T YOU SEE I'M DRENCHED! AND I REALLY DON'T HAVE TIME TO MOP UP THE FLOOR AGAIN!" Because, really, the twins just think it's comical when Mommy loses her cool. And when they laugh at me, they win. And I can't let them win!

Once we get in the tub, I talk up all of their tub toys: "Oh, look! There are the basketballs and the net! And here's your little fishing pole! Look at the tub crayons! Can you draw Mommy a picture!" And they either don't care about the toys or they just love to piss me off, because they immediately decide that splashing is WAY more fun than drawing Mommy some stupid picture. The splashing starts about 5 seconds after they get in the tub. Which means I have to wash their hair and scrub their little bodies at warp-speed and lift their kicking, screaming, soaking bodies out of the tub while they yell, "TUBBY! WANT TUBBY!!!"

You'd think with all this exercise, wrestling 30-pounders in and out of the tub, I'd have lost all of the baby weight by now. Not so, my friends. :(

The Twin Takeover

What is it with the twins and dish towels?

I'm not really one to *decorate* for any holidays other than Christmas, but I do have cute little dish towels that I change with the appropriate season or holiday. This month it's white towels with simple, understated hearts. I hang them over the handle of my oven. There's really nothing fancy or ostentatious about them; in other words, they don't have blinking lights or loud noises or anything that otherwise resembles a toddler toy. But for some reason the twins simply CANNOT leave them alone. No sooner do I put out a dish towel than they are pulled off of the handle and placed on the floor. I can't tell you how many times a day I nearly fall ass over teakettle because I've slipped on one of the towels. (Not good when you have a 6 week old baby in your arms.) So, I've put the dish towels away (sigh), along with the kitchen chairs (because the twins climb up onto the table and dump salt everywhere), the diaper caddy (because they pull out all of the wipes one by one), and the fireplace screen (because they hurl their bodies against it until it falls over.)

At what point does my house become MINE again?!?!

Yes, I'm Aware of the Whole "Back To Sleep" Campaign

I have been blessed with a 5-week old insomniac. I haven't read a whole lot about newborns, but I've read enough to know that they're supposed to sleep. A lot. Apparently Nathan hasn't read a whole lot about newborns either, because he is awake about as often as Charlotte and Gavin. This leaves me little time to get much of anything done. There are crumbs on my floor, laundry piling up in the hallway, and dishes that need to be put away. (Notice, however, that when I get a free moment I'm here, typing, instead of doing any of those nagging chores. This is not lost on my husband, who reminds me that I'm on the computer too much every time I complain about the house being a mess. I then remind him to shut up.)

I suspect that Nathan has reflux. Gavin had it as well, and Nathan makes all of the same grunting and groaning noises that Gavin did. I think Nathan wants to sleep (his eyes get all red and puffy, and he fusses) but he just doesn't seem to know how to get himself there. Either that, or he's so uncomfortable that he CAN'T sleep.

I've tried swaddling him with his hands up. I've tried swaddling him with his arms down. I've tried rocking. I've tried shushing. I've tried singing. I've tried swinging. I've tried letting him sleep in his carseat. I've tried letting him sleep in his bouncy seat. Nothing seems to be making a significant difference. So I'm about to let you in on a secret. The other day, I actually let him sleep on his belly. Now, before you go calling Children and Youth, you should know that he was supervised. It was during the day on the couch, and I was with him the whole time. But he actually slept for hours! That's hours longer than he usually sleeps!

So fess up, mothers. What's your take on belly sleeping? I know some mothers (who wish to remain anonymous) who have said they did this all the time. My defense is that I have a monitor that comes with a sensor pad. I bought in when the twins were in the NICU and had occasional bouts of apnea. You put the sensor pad under the crib mattress, and if the child stops breathing, alarms go off. Michael and I didn't actually believe it would work, but it does...amazingly well. We "tested" it all the time. So if I put Nathan on his belly once in a while, I feel somewhat reassured that I have the sensor pad.

Anyone else willing to admit that they allow belly-sleeping? Or tell me that I'm crazy and should be reported