Between a Rock...

Ever since we've learned that Gage is outgrowing some of his food allergies, I've had much less stress when it comes to everything from grocery shopping or packing lunches to eating out or meal planning.

However, after months of a forced education about nutrition and label-reading, I don't like the foods I'm allowing Gage to eat. It's a struggle to allow him moments of 'kid normalcy' and, say, a breakfast of doughnuts while knowing the absolute junk that he's consuming. Chicken nuggets, cereal bars, cookies--the list goes on and on... they pale in comparison to a fresh cooked butternut squash or a chicken salad made with avocado spread instead of mayo.

It's a tough place that I'm in and I much prefer being the weird mom whose children enjoy their fruits and vegetables, and whose child asks to eat broccoli instead of pizza. Thank goodness he still prefers his beans and rice over a hamburger; however, he also now prefers his oreos and doughnuts over a bowl of oatmeal. Yep, he's a normal kid.

Balance... I'm back to keeping track of the balance I provide... and I'm still so glad to be having this kind of difficulty instead going through what life was like 6 months ago.

Miss Leila and a Little Re-Cap

Just days away from her first birthday, I thought I better record some notes about her first year while I had an opportunity. See, whereas her brother concentrated on the verbal end of development, Leila has all energy on being tactile. She keeps us busy and I continue to learn new things about being a parent--especially because the two of them are so different.

She started taking 3-6 steps at a time around 11 months. She realizes this method is too slow for her and she drops down to stealth mode: crawling. She's got things to do and messes to make; there is no time to waste with walking.

She says Dada and knows dada, but she doesn't really call me anything yet other than dada, too. She has the mmmm sound down, but uses it to refer to good food rather than her good momma. Other spoken 'words' include-- up and down, Thomas, bye bye, tickle tickle, yuck, something resembling Gage but only I know that, yeah, bath, ball, shoot... that's all that's coming to mind right now.

She has moved past eating books and enjoys looking at them and being read to (whew!!).

She would rather eat real food than baby food, and she most definitely prefers to feed herself. When she's finished eating, she throws the rest onto the floor--One of the many messes of Leila. I quit nursing her around 8 or 8 1/2 months, and it was a very hard decision for me, but it was definitely something that proved to be 'good' for her. I miss the nursing bond, I enjoy the bottle freedom, but I have found a new passion in life after going through this experience and if I had a career change, it would certainly involve lactation support and education for women and/or nutrition of children in this world that is overly consumed with processed foods.

Different than her brother, she has no patience to sit at a restaurant or in a stroller, to sit on some one's lap, or to take time to 'have a conversation' with someone. Literally, she just prefers to always be on the go, unrestrained. She is certainly a free spirit who has her own agenda. Trips out have dwindled significantly unless I can get away with only taking Gage. She does enjoy the grocery cart, but she soon pesters Gage (especially his glasses) to the point that he is quite agitated. Luckily, he is a kid who will walk along with me and be happy to help put food into the cart.

However, she absolutely loves to ride in the backpack when we go on walks. It's a chore to get her situated in the backpack because she's not a fan of wearing all the layers it takes to go on a walk in the winter, but as soon as we get outside, she is in a glory. It's a total moment of glory for all of us, actually.

She's quite attached to a little white blanket that came before she was born from Uncle Darren and Aunt Krisi. She drags it around, sleeps with it, rolls around with it on the floor, and most usually won't eat drink her bottle without it. You can't trick her with another blanket, either, say, when hers is not available or is getting washed. She knows better. In fact, I broke down and spent the $45 it took to buy another one so we would have a backup before something drastic happens to hers. It's one of her birthday presents and I hope it works out just as well as her original.

She is quite head strong, especially when she is trying to explore something. She has learned to dip her hands into the toilet water--even if the lid is down. She has learned to use the remote control to turn on the GeoTrax trains (which does not make brother happy). And, she is an expert at removing lids: from soap bottles, lotion bottles, Lysol wipes cans, etc. And let me re-iterate--she removes the lids, she doesn't just know how to open or unscrew them. She also dialed 911 the other day, which none of us knew about until the Sheriff's office called to check on the situation. Ooops. Like I said, she's extremely tactile.

Her smile is contagious, she has an adorable bashful side to her personality and her big brown eyes are so cute that even when she's crying and in trouble, it's hard to 'punish' her behavior. She's going to have a charm about her, I believe, that helps her get her way throughout life. Oh boy...(like I said in another post, Austin has returned to reading his book about raising daughters).

Speaking of Austin, she is quite fond of the boys--particularly to Grandpas, Hawhaw McConnell, and Uncle Jared Barcalow-- and each of those grown men just eat her up, let me tell you. She's extremely bothered when Austin goes to work in the morning and leaves without her. She's just tall enough to see out the window of our front door and she stands there for quite some time calling out for dada.

I look forward to her walking and talking more, I look forward to ditching the daytime bottles, but mostly I look forward to watching this boisterous personality continuing to develop and grow. I cannot wait until this summer--the beach, the hayrides, the boating, and park playing. She's beginning one of my favorite stages and while I miss having a baby baby around (especially because I know we are not having more children) and I miss those baby smells and those baby cuddling moments, I love the bonding that really explodes as they learn to walk and talk.

I always knew I wanted to be a stay at home mom, and even though I do work part time, I really consider my job to be my mom job. We have found economically that it's more possible and reasonable than we ever could have predicted, we have found that it truly has more long-term and short-term rewards than we ever could have predicted, and while I, as an individual, have my days struggling mentally without full-time 'work', I have learned more and more that our choices today usually aren't life sentences; whereas, being a parent is a life-sentence, thus, they do come first, they do need us more than I need anything else. I am blessed to be able to have the relationship that I have with my children. Should I be gone from this world tomorrow, I have no regrets, and that is the way we live out each day now that we are parents.

O-M-G!!

Gage plays with dried beans as part of his construction site. The rule is that he can only play with the beans when Leila is sleeping and that if he doesn't pick them up, they will no longer exist for his 'quarry.' So far, so good, and he entertains himself for quite some time... like right now so I can blog.

When I was helping him today, he wanted to know, again, why Leila can't play with the beans. We had another conversation about how she puts everything into her mouth and that the beans would choke her and hurt her.

His reply: Yea, like yesterday when Leila ate dog poop at Mollie's. It made her choke.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

She's a Kisser

Leila has really started to enjoy her days in the last month or so. Not only do I attribute it to age, but I also attribute it to starting her on reflux medication. Her personality has turned to pleasantry for the largest part of every day and one of her favorite hobbies is dancing.

She has been a dancer since before she could even pull herself up and stand. Country music videos provide her with ample opportunity to shake her groove thang. I know we don't have a video of her on YouTube dancing to Beyonce, but to us, she is just as cute. From head bopping, to leg slapping, Leila is constantly perfecting her moves. The latest addition to her concert puts the icing on the cake.

A cowboy pops up on the screen, she starts smacking her lips. People in the videos waving, she, again, kisses and kisses. She doesn't kiss the screen or blow kisses or anything like that... she simply just smacks those lips-- to every cute cowboy and to every adoring fan (which of course are fans to cute cowboys, but Leila thinks that they are her fans). We may have a stage girl on our hands and I've noticed Austin started reading his book again, which is titled, "Strong Fathers Raise Strong Daughters." I believe he's already a bit worried about his precious little girl falling to the poison of pubescent little boys. This is going to be a trip, for sure.

Again, such a Mama's Boy

I started teaching again on Tuesday nights so Austin is flying the house solo. I was shocked that both babes were in bed when I got home and extremely proud of him. I was greeted with a whopper of a story:

Austin said that while he was doing something with Leila, Gage informed him that he had choked (Gage word for 'puked'). He quickly followed that statement with a matter-of-fact version of 'don't worry dad, it's all in the trash can.' (Keep in mind, whenever I'm around the puke always lands somewhere on the floor... usually in multiple somewheres.)

Upon investigation, his 'choke' absolutely was in the trash can... and leading from the trash can was a trail of his choke that clearly began on the kitchen floor. Austin began to clean everything up when Gage eagerly and proudly told Austin that he 'just got his own bowl.... see?' And, Gage opened a cupboard door. Deputy Austin thus concluded that the choke that began on the kitchen floor finished in the cupboard... yet, to Gage's credit, in a bowl... that he first had to remove a colander from. Then, Sir Independent Gage proceeded to take his bowl to the trash can to dump it... even if he did leave a bit of a trail.

And while I do realize I'm writing a story about vomit, this was a pleasantly surprising tale of independence and care. Perhaps even a bit of proof that my job as a mother has some success stories to it--which couldn't have come on a better day since the beginning of the day saw me dragging Gage, literally, to the car. He also had to literally be pulled off my leg so I could leave the babysitter's house and make it to my first class of 20 new faces. It is a bit of an understatement to say that the start of the semester was a bit rough. Who knew my 3-year old would have separation anxiety??

On the other hand, it's refreshing to know that everyone can pick up the slack when I'm not around. I may start volunteering to be gone in the evenings more often if it helps to condition some independence--even independence in handling pukes. : ) Simply put, I'm just quite proud of my family.

Her little legs are trying

We all thought Leila would be walking by Christmas. That girl has been on the cruising-move for months now, but still not walking on her own. She stands, she dances, she cruises behind her pushing car or behind any human on the move, but still not on her own. I can't say it bothers me in the least bit--especially since Gage was almost 16-months old before he walked, but lately I've been having horrible dreams about missing her major milestones.

For whatever reason in my dreams, I have a much longer work schedule than I do in reality. So, of course, in dream world, I miss her first steps, her first string of new words and sentences and I know that doesn't sound too terrible but in my dreams missing these things is about as bad as those dreams where I forget how to run or where my teeth fall out. I guess I've been trying to speak to her subconscious to subconscious: Today, I stood her on the floor in front of the television, which was showcasing the Wiggles... and the girl had to get up in their faces as closely as possible... and she walked.

I can say with confidence that it wasn't a teeter towards the tv with a lucky landing, but a real step-step-step. Just in time. Tomorrow I go back to work and today she took two steps... what a good girl. I'm hoping I'll sleep better tonight for a change and I'm hoping she'll save the next escapade for Wednesday...when I'll be home again. I'm so glad to be back to a Tuesday/Thursday work schedule.

What a Mama's Boy

Gage was up super early this morning so I made him a nice 'nest' in front of the fireplace and turned on cartoons so I could have 'maybe' 30 more minutes in my own warm bed. Soon after, my mom was up too and I overheard this:

Grandma, I'm hungry.

And what would you like, Gage?

Something that doesn't stain the carpet.

He's always looking out for me. Everybody needs a boy like Gage.

Whatever it Takes

There are the moments that the ugly 3's transforms itself into my cute little boy--screaming, kicking, backtalking, spitting. Luckily for me these times are few and far between (and most definitely signal the need for sleep). I'm not always the best at handling these times, and I guess one of these days Gage will learn the truth (and perhaps Leila, too) that our magic weapon in this household is cumin. That's right: right from Isle 7 of our local Kroger (One day I had to actually show Gage that it did, in fact, exist in Kroger, and that I could pull it off the shelf to use it if he didn't change his attitude). I've learned the value of the saying "this is going to hurt me more than it's going to hurt you."

I hate this part of parenting--absolutely hate it. My mom's generation spanked children and used a bar of soap... and through many years since then and debates about what's best for kids, we've found that if the whole time-out thing doesn't work, cumin in the mouth is a much less forceful slap in the face--with equal shock results. I remember being afraid of my mom if she even raised her hand in threat of a slap. Now, our fear factor is marching to the spice cupboard.

I wonder how these stories will be retold from our kids' perspectives. Austin and I are spoiled in the sense of discipline because we're in the education world: we always 'win', kind of--and have all kinds of tricks up our sleeves if it does get ugly. But they aren't always easily transferable into the parent role. The hallway or principal's room is quite similar to time out but I don't dare ever say something like "wait until I tell your father" like I could tell a student that I'm calling home. I can't request a conference, but I can take away privileges. Unfortunately... as a mom to a near-one-year old, this usually makes it just as tough on me as it is on him.

The comparative list could go on and on, but I guess if I want my children to understand anything, I want them to understand that we do our best as parents each day--and I believe that our children set out to do their best as well. However, once I became a parent, the judging-of- other-parents buck stopped cold: we will all, one day, be the parent in the book store with one kid howling all the way to the bathroom. Or, the parent whose child makes some kind of 'fat-smelly-weird looking-dirty' comment to a complete stranger; the parent who leaves a 30% tip and decides to not return to that restaurant for a really, really long time. And I guess, if I have to start packing cumin into my diaper bag, so be it, but maybe it'd all be a lot easier if the world was a lot less judgmental of parents in public with their children. I mean, seriously, I might laugh a whole lot more at the mischief. But then again, on second thought, I'd be painting an evil description of double standards. The hurdles are never cleared.