Thursday, July 29, 2010


Max is an eater. He'll eat basically anything. I think the exceptions are watermelon, tomatoes and occasionally broccoli. But his favorite meal is breakfast. He loves waffles, pancakes, toasts, raisins, every fruit, dry cereal, oatmeal, eggs, YOU NAME IT.He's very in to meal time. He gets all giddy and shows me his big toothy grin and eats until I'm afraid he's going to puke. The minute he is done, he is DONE. He'll start slinging food every which way, directly on the floor and fling his placemat off the table. It's a lot of fun ;)Lately we introduced him to yogurt. Hello messy fun. Hello thrilled one year old. Everytime I clean him up after breakfast (and my table, floor, couch, anything withing a 50 ft radius of destruct-o eater) I say to myself "STOP BUYING YOGURT". But his enjoyment is too great.
I busted out an old Mason favorite oatmeal mixed with cereal. That concoction is just screaming big sticky mess. Mason must have been a dainty eater because it wasn't ever messy. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he hated eating with his hands. Whereas Max holds the fork in one hand and shovels food in to his mouth with his free hand. It's pretty cute. I'm not sure if he doesn't get it or is just trying to be more efficient. Whatever he's doing, it's working.
When the sticky deliciousness was gone he picked up the bowl and looked in to it like that's it? This isn't never ending oatmeal goodness mom? Sorry Max, this is not Chili's we don't serve bottomless appetizers or margaritas (most days). He took straight to his usual - throwing and slinging the tiny tid bits of left over blueberries and toast and with an enraged grunt tossed the placemat to the floor. But this time I didn't grumble "STOP BUYING YOGURT". Instead, I made it for Sunday's breakfast too.
Breakfast is a hit in our house.

Monday, July 26, 2010

what we've been up to.

Oh summertime, keeping me super busy so I can't blog about my life, who do you think you are?! I mean seriously. Okay okay, so we've been on the go a lot of June and here it is at the end of July and I feel like I have no idea of what the heck we've been doing all summer. Here's a mini summer recap in pictures.

Beach trips.

S'mores. Lots of gooey delicious s'mores. Because what is summer without some melted chocolate collaborating with some warm marshmallows all bundled together between Graham crackers? Well, it's not summer that's for sure.

Max has been up to cake smashing. Toy stealing. Attempting to run. Out-eating his brother. Being ONE.

Vancouver. Sans children.

Dance parties. On the daily. In the car, the living room, the kitchen. You know everywhere, anywhere. Mason requests them, I oblige. Max even claps to cheer us along.

Playdates. Playdates GALORE. Which ultimately means lots of running around chasing multiple small children, mommy's wishing it was happy hour (sometimes it's AT happy hour, classy I know), sandy hair, sweaty kids, lots of snacks, lathering of sunscreen, but HAPPY kids. Mason is a total friend lover. I sometimes regret even agreeing to a playdate because the minute it's time to go - full on meltdown. We're working on that.

GOGGLES. Goggles are fun. Unless your one. Maximo won't even let me get close to him with them. I think I traumatized him with his pirate patch for his birthday invites.
4th of July. Fireworks. Parades. Big hit in Mason's book.

Swimming. Sunshine. Sno-cones.

Going to bed late (too late) and attempting to sleep in (Max often misses his MEMO).

But I think I've mentioned that close to four hundred times in the past few months. How's that for catching up the blog on my whole summer (thus far) in one super long, picture overloaded post.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

mommy fail.

On Monday Mason had swim class - he's been doing it about a month now and it has worked wonders. He can swim unassisted about 20 feet. He is so proud and will refuse to wear floaties, which WAS the point, but man it can be annoying when I want to sit peacefully in the sun and watch him swim - instead of being splashed and dunked by my three year old. Anyway, this isn't even the point of the story...

....the story is about Max the bottle thief. We were sitting in the viewing area watching Mason kick and float and blow bubbles and "dive" for rings and so on. Max was not amused, needed a nap and a snack (or really probably just some lunch). Guess what I didn't have? A SNACK. So I let him walk around and lo and behold, Max finds a baby, probably just a few weeks younger than him, with a bottle. We kind of just weaned Max from his bottle. We kind of ran out of formula and there were no bottles to be found. And just like that he was weaned. And pissed. The minute, no, no, the second he saw that bottle he had a mission. Steal bottle. Drink other kids formula. Show mommy who's boss in this joint.

I was able to steer him away from the baby, who didn't know what he had coming to the sibling play area for about five minutes. Then either the bottle came back in to view or Max remember. He flung himself all around and threw a mini Max fit reaching for the bottle making this little hand motion that means I WANT THAT NOW. It's usually for a sippy cup of juice, because that's what Mason has. I glanced at teh clock and wanted to throw a mommy fit - we had nearly 15 minutes of class left. Sounds like nothing, just 15 minutes. Yeah? YOU TRY ENTERTAINING A FLOPPY, OVERTIRED, 1 YEAR OLD FOR 15 MINUTES. It's an eternity.

They have a big bowl of dum dums for the students after class. It's probably Mason's favorite part of being a student - the sweet reward after his swimming. Sometimes he'll remind me that he gets a lollipop for about an hour before class. Then he'll ask me (usually right after he finished it and were pulling out of the parking lot of swim school) "Remember that lollipop I got at swimming last day mommy? I loved that? Pops make you big and strong. So do veg-it-bles. Just wike my Daddy. Wight Mommy?" Hmm, I don't think I've forgotten just yet Mason, remind me in oh six more minutes, and yes, lollipops will make you big and strong, or something like that.

I grabbed one to share with Max. It sounded like a good idea in the heat of the moment, okay. Not a good idea. The minute I realized he was waaaaaaay too little to do this and kept trying to pull the entire dum dum off with his teeth, swim class got out. Floppy baby screaming, big kid whining he was cold because he just finished swimming, ten other parents looking at me like "I feel ya lady. I am so glad my floppy kid didn't get a taste of a dum dum, because why would you think that was a good idea?"

We finally made it towards the exit. Mason saw the bowl of dum dums and reminded me he was a good little swimmer and got some treats. The sign CLEARLY states "Take one per student please" and Mason grabbed three, because he's three. Seems rational to me. Then the cashier reminded me "Today's the last day to re-enroll for Fall" with a super huge annoying grin that meant GREAT, let me walk to my car in the 100 degree weather, grab my wallet, while making sure Mason kept up in lollipop lala land - and Max was still flopping and whining and pissed that he didn't have a bottle OR a dum dum.

I swear to you whenever I am in a hurry, the service industry is NOT. It's just like Murphy's law or whatever. So I'm standing at the cashier, patiently waiting to shell out a gross amount of money on Fall lessons and the two girls behind the desk are giggling and NOT HELPING ME RE ENROLL. Mommy spies chips a hoy - genuis - THIS will calm Max down. I buy them give each boy one, enroll and Monday has totally turned around. Score. We get in the car and I hand each bitty "the last cookie for the boy's" (words straight from the mouth of MOM) - you know, just to make it home with minimal chaos.

Max was satisfied. Cookies did him good. Mason though threw a fit because I wouldn't give him just one more cookie. Because he's three.

When we finally got home. I gave Mason another cookie. I gave Max a bottle out of guilt. 3 dum dums, 5 cookies and a regression back to the bottle all before noon? Mommy fail.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

simple math.

Sleep regression + first black eye = it's been one hell of a week around here.

The injury:

It's not as bad as it looks in this lighting. What's really comical about this injury (well, not really but you know) is that when Michael asked him how he got it he mentioned something about being hit by mommy, Michael looked at me like I had five heads. Yes, I forgot to mention how I socked our three year old in the eye and it resulted in a black eye. Remember this is the kid who also says Max is telling him _____________ (insert something entirely crazy) or told his teachers he had a pet penguin. He also told me that he'd turn two years old one day again. Umm, probably not honey. So clearly this witness needs to be removed from the courthouse. He is no longer considered a credible source. I'm fairly certain it was a toy to the eye by the much smaller brother in the house in addition to a bad bug bite. Sorry Mase, no one is buying your sob story that your mother is mean.

On an entirely different tangent, aren't his eyelashes beautiful? I mean hello, that is SO ridiculously UNFAIR to the female population in this household. Share some with mama please.

As far as sleep regression goes, well basically it's a sad truth people forget to inform you of when your super excited your infant is FINALLY SLEEPING THROUGH THE NIGHT. Then they just stop. It's like sleep strike. And do you know what happens when your baby (or preschooler *sigh*) don't sleep. YOU DON'T SLEEP. It is now taking Maximo a good 40 minutes to even fall to sleep. What is the deal!? He was my dream sleeper. Now he's all about screaming until I come get him again. And last night for the first time in FOREVER I was up rocking him at 4 AM. I'll admit the snuggle time was extremely enjoyable, until I woke up an hour later with an aching back from a not so comfortable glider.

Guess what happened the minute Max went back in his crib? More hysterics. I'm sorry Maximo - I love you, to the moon & back....but Mama is not really capable of holding you all night long while you snooze peacefully. If I did I'm fairly sure the preceding mornings would not be extremely enjoyable.

The good news is the black eye is healed. And sleep regression is supposed to stop. Someday.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

thursday's ten.

1. I started summer school today. And it's raining. Double yuck.

2. Nothing beats the smells of sunscreen.

3. I've already purchased close to 3/4ths of Mason's whole Fall wardrobe. But I'm not an overachiever. Not even close.

4. I want to plan a trip to New Orleans before September.

5. Max is totally full on walking and bottle weaning. I'd like a pause button, please and thank you.

6. I think margaritas have been half my caloric consumption all summer. Have I mentioned how much I LOVE SUMMER?! Because I love it almost as much as my children.

7. Two nights ago we started discussing and debating Halloween costume choices at the dinner table. Funny thing is my preschooler did not initiate this conversation. We really love Halloween. Maybe more than summer. And I swear I'm really not an overachiever.

8. We did our first summer 2010 Sea World trip with both boys Monday. It was The boys both loved it. I'll blog it later.

9. Fourth of July was awesome. Next year I need to get more festive on the kids outfits.

10. Photographic proof that my babies used to be babies, just a short year ago:

Thursday, July 1, 2010

rainy day blues.

It's officially hurricane season. Which means we have been housebound a lot of this week due to rain. I used to really like rain, because rainy days meant a free voucher to cozy up on the couch with some coffee and a new movie. It used to mean napping at any given hour and pizza delivery and lots of reruns of whatever trashy reality show owned my life at the current time. Not anymore. Rain is not such a good thing - even if it makes whiskey, Luke Bryan, mister country singer, I bet you do not have children.

No more cozy, rainy day delights, heck no. Now rain means a bored three year old. Hell hath no fury like a preschooler bored. Days when it rains I swear my children plot against me. No overlaying naps, no calm afternoons of quiet time and movies together, hell I'd settle for Wall-E, really I would. No puzzle making and crayola enjoyment. I feel like the night before it rains, Mason must lie in bed and think of what he can tell Max. After today I'm sure it was something like this running through his little head, "Ok Max, it's going to rain and we're going to be locked inside. ALL.DAY. So let's be as physical with each other as we can, because there isn't much room to burn up energy. I'll leave it to you to have a super clingy day, if you wanna be an overachiever you can even cut a few new teeth and throw all your spaghetti noodles on the floor for lunch. You know what else we can do? As soon as I am about to fall asleep for my nap, you should wake up from yours, really pissed and still clingy. Deal?" It was a done deal.

So today after repeated, failed nap attempts. Lots of smack down on the rug. Numerous "Please get off your brother" requests. I packed them up for an ice cream date.
It was Maximo's first taste of ice cream, okay, that is probably a lie. I know he's had bites of it. But today I let him (well I let Mason if you want to be technical) pick Max a flavor. I strongly urged him to stick to a color that wouldn't result in a confusing, what the hell did he eat, diaper in 24 hours. He chose vanilla frozen yogurt. WHO IS THIS KID? What 3 year old choose Baskin Robbin's? Mason does, and well I guess Max did too. We got him a side of strawberries, drenched in syrup. It was disgusting but there were no complaints from Maximo. Mason got his classic vanilla (which he says ba-nee-ya) because he thinks he's bilingual and all. And because my mom thinks it is really hilarious for him to order food speaking Spanish. Mason's was drenched in m&m's, nerds, and rainbow sprinkles. Can I just state the obvious - I am SO GLAD HE DOESN'T STILL WEAR DIAPERS.
Max is really in to this whole I'll feed myself- but not really- because it already fell off the spoon on to the newly mopped floor- stage. It's cute, so long as your not the one mopping. Which is why it was precious at our nearest Baskin Robbin location. Max was a slightly confused at this freezing concoction I plopped in front of this milk? Is this FROZEN milk? Hallelujah people frozen milk with sugar. Max really loves all foods, he'll eat a pear to the core and he prefers hummus and blueberries to tacos. He's a foodie already.
But ice cream wasn't his forte. Shocker. Really, I was shocked. I think the texture or more likely the temperature threw him for a loop. He'd fail miserably with his spoon and so he went to his next best bet - his hands. After a minute he started screaming bloody murder. The teenage girls behind the counter kept staring at me, like oh my God get that baby under control, what the heck is she doing to him!? Sue me I fed my baby ice cream, I know real torturous right? It took my Einstein self a second to realize, shit his fingers are probably fuh-reezing. Yup his pinky felt like an iceberg. One a better note, I bet none of the girls at Baskin Robbin's will be getting knocked up this year. You know after the tantrum he threw.
Lesson of the day? Icecream burns fingers and probably gives a brain freeze at the rate Mr. Max was consuming it. Solution? Stop eating. Max's solution? Eat. Scream. Be weary of sticking chubby fingers back in to cold but delicious concoction. Stress out. Laugh deliriously. Stick fingers back in ice cream. Scream. Repeat. No wonder they were looking at us so weird. Like lady, take the kid's damn ice cream away. Have some authority, you know he's only ONE YEAR OLD. It's probably illegal to even give your bitty baby ice cream anyway. But a better guess to the stares, Mason was breaking it down, shaking his hips like Shakira with each delicious bite of ice cream. He was one sprinkle slinging son of....son of a Marci. I had to tell him to get it under control more times than I'd like to admit.
We finally left. Thank God we were the only visitors to Baskin Robbin. In retrospect, the next time I want to entertain my kids, cheaply and in a manner that will have them ready for bed in the next know a kill some time before bed activity? Ice cream is probably NOT the best bet. But at least it was some rainy day fun.