House shopping

So today we got an offer on the house! Now we've got to get out there and find a new place to move to. We took Lorelai to an open house last weekend where she quickly became the hit of the show. She greeted everyone coming in to see the house and was thrilled to make so many new friends. I think the realtor there was particularly taken with her. He asked her what her name was and how old she was which she promptly told him. When he told her his name, she responded with a chipper, "It's so nice to meet you!" Absolutely adorable. We stood by, proud parents, beaming.

We've driven by a couple of others to scout them out before scheduling a showing and have found that Lorelai may enjoy house shopping way more than we do. In fact, today she asked us if we were going to go look at new houses this weekend. She really wants to go. Unfortunately for her, we're leaving her with her grandparents while we shop. It's a little hard to check out a house when you have to keep tabs on the welcome wagon...

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Sorry I Needed to Push You

Lorelai has a step stool that she uses all the time. It has two steps and the bottom step opens up so you can store treasures in it. Yesterday Logan was trying to climb up on it at a time when Lorelai was insisting upon using it. She walked over to it and shoved Logan off onto the floor. Logan instantly bursts into tears and Lorelai got a time out for shoving her sister. When it was time for Lorelai to get out of time out, Logan and I went over to have a chat with her about shoving. As usual, I asked her to apologize for shoving Logan. Lorelai looks at Logan and smiles and says, "Sorry Logan." I remind her to tell Logan that she is not only sorry, but sorry for shoving her. So Lorelai pats Logan on the head and says, "Sorry I needed to push you Logan."

I'm not sure that's what she actually meant, so I let it slide. But it was really hard to keep a straight face. Hopefully she won't "need" to push her again. :)

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Talking to my toddler about adoption

So last night as Lorelai and snuggled up to read her bedtimes stories, I selected one of her adoption books to read - Tell Me Again About the Night I Was Born by Jamie Lee Curtis. We've read this one a number of times and I didn't really think much of it. I just try to throw one of these in the mix every once in a while...

But last night Lorelai started asking questions. And I was once again amazed at the little toddler that is my daughter. Let me give you a glimpse of the conversation and I'll bet you'll love it too...

(We're on the page where the mom and dad are on the airplane)

Lorelai: Where are they going?


Me: They're going to the hospital to get their baby!


Lorelai: Oh! Yay!

(On the next page it talks about how babies grow in tummies, but that this mom didn't grow the baby in her tummy. The birth mother grew the baby and was too young to parent the baby).

Me: Did you know that? Did you know that babies grow inside mommies' tummies?


Lorelai: <nods her head>

Me: Mommy's tummy is broken. I can't grow babies in it <patting my belly>, but you remember L*?


Lorelai: Mmmmhmmm.


Me: Her tummy works just fine and she can grow babies in there. She grew YOU in her tummy and gave you to me since I couldn't grow a baby. That makes L* your birth mother and me your mommy.


Lorelai: <throws her hands up in the air and grins> That's wonderful!!!


Me: <laughing> You're right baby, that IS wonderful!


Not too bad for our first real conversation about adoption. :)

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They're ganging up on us!

The past two days, both of my children have been refusing to sleep. No naps. No bedtime. Nothing. And they are fighting it like crazy (read - lots of tantrums!). It has been exhausting! We've been trying everything. In fact, Lorelai spent the entire night in my bed last night wedged between my husband and I. Logan finally gave up after watching the opening credits to Gilmore Girls about 100 times.

This leads me to my new concern... could they have made a pact? Were they ganging up on us? Because if they can accomplish this at 2 years old and 9 months old... we're gonna lose. Seriously. We're going down. At midnight last night we were ready to wave our white flags and surrender. The inmates had taken over the asylum.

And I've got to assume that their methods will get more sophisticated over time. What could Lorelai mastermind as a five year old... a ten year old... a teenager? And with a Logan sidekick? I'm having visions of Bart Simpson at Kamp Krusty...

Time to go get some more coffee and prepare for another battle. Wish me luck.

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Pumpkin Power!

I've been on the quest to get Lorelai to eat vegetables for some time now. Almost 2 years to be exact, and I've finally hit a milestone. This week I found a trick that has worked so far... adding canned pumpkin to things that she normally eats. For instance, earlier this week I was making spaghetti... plain spaghetti. I decided to doctor up the jarred sauce and try to make it a little more veggie packed so I added a can of diced tomatoes and a cup of canned pumpkin (plus a little dash of oregano and basil). You couldn't taste the pumpkin at all! Delicious! Lorelai picked out the tomatoes (and told me the "meatballs were too yuck.") but she ate her spaghetti with her "pumpkin" sauce and told me it was "DEEE-licious!" Success.

For breakfast this morning, I'm testing out Jessica Seinfeld's recipe for Pumpkin Oatmeal. My review - it's great! It tastes like a combination of oatmeal and pumpkin pie. I could eat this all the time! And as for Lorelai...

She actually tried it...

and she liked it!!!

Sweet, sweet success. 

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Banning Baby Names

I just read this news article that says that New Zealand has now joined a growing number of countries that are banning weird baby names. My initial reaction was a mix of shock and curiosity. What sorts of names were they banning? And why? These practices conflicted with my I'll-do-what-I-want-as-long-as-nobody-gets-hurt American belief system. And then I read the list of banned names which included Brfxxccxxmnpcccclllmmnprxvclmnckssqlbb11116 (pronounced Albin). Seriously. Who does that to their kid? Was the purpose of reproducing to create a little outcast who would get his butt kicked every day? And going back to my whole I'll-do-what-I-want-as-long-as-nobody-gets-hurt American belief system - might that name hurt that kid?

So I can see the usefulness of the ban... it protects kids from stupid parents. But honestly, do you think the stupid parenting will stop there? Probably not.

And I've got to say, I'm a bit worried about where the line is drawn. Lorelai isn't the most common name in the world... and Logan isn't typically a girl's name. Granted, I didn't just let the cat run across my keyboard and see what "name" came up. And when I was a baby, Ashley was an unusual name too...

And naming your child is such a personal experience. For me, it was one of the key moments that made me really connect with my children. Being able to name them was a major part of my parenting identity.

All in all, I think banning free expression in any form is a slippery slope. Who are we to determine what someone can name their child? And who knows, maybe little Brfxxccxxmnpcccclllmmnprxvclmnckssqlbb11116 will decide he loves his unique name. I hope so.

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The end of week 7/beginning of week 8 (on my time table!)

So we wrapped up week 7 about a month ago... but I've been busy! LOL. So let's see what we were supposed to be doing...

1) Find serious motivation (Fitness). Done. Two babies. Motivation in check.

2) Separate dinner from dessert (Nutrition). Ha! We tried this. And tantrums ensued. We'll keep working on it...

3) Don't cover your kid's brush with toothpaste (Health). Well... we managed to hit the whole toothpaste thing outta the park. Flossing... well, you and my dentist can keep hoping it happens. And I'll try again.

4) Grow your family (Happiness). We're working on this one. We've made a few more acquaintances over the past month, but I can't say that we've invited new folks into our inner circle. We'll work on that. Awfully hard to do in a city!

OK, so on to week 8!

1) Do quick strength workouts at home (Fitness). So it's no secret that muscle burns more calories than fat. And this recommendation is to do 30-60 minutes of strength training (weights, resistance bands, etc.) two times a week. I'm committing to try this one. I'd really like to do this. And I hope that my energy level and schedule permit it. Honestly, I'm going to try really hard on this one.

2) Scale back on eating out (Health). We've actually been working on this one. Not because we're really trying to eat healthier (which is the point here) but because we're trying to save money. The article on parents.com notes that even the old recipes your grandma used to make are likely much healthier for you than what you get in restaurants. Clearly... I was much thinner when I ate that! So we'll keep trying this one.

3) Stop smoking (Health). No worries here. My mom would kick my butt if I smoked. Plus that costs a lot! And it's gross. So check this one off my list!

4) Mark one day on your weekly calendar with an X and keep it blank for spontaneous family time (Happiness). We do this every Sunday. Usually my parents come down to spend the day with us and we spend the whole day playing with the kids and hanging out. It's my favorite day of the week.

All right "week" 8... let's see what you've got!

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Potty Training Progress

Thought you'd all enjoy hearing a little Lorelai story...

So as the potty training has progressed in our house, Lorelai has taken to hiding under the kitchen table when she goes poop. When the urge strikes, she runs and dives under the table. She hangs out down there until she's done and then requests that we change her diaper. When we finally picked up on what was going on, we would ask as soon as she dove under the table, "Do you need to go to the potty?" She would promptly respond, "No! I'm just hiding here with my poops!"

Every time we got the same response. And I thought that was pretty darn funny. Until the other night...

Lorelai was hiding under the table with her poops as per usual. Although this time I did not ask her if she needed to go potty. I just waited. She emerged from the table and walked over to me in nothing but her pull-up. She turned around, peered over her shoulder at me, and proceeded to shake her butt back and forth (imagine a diaper in peril under the weight a mass amount of poop wiggling back and forth) while she taunts, "Mommy! Guess what's in here!!!"

Now that's funny.

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Finding a Home

So our house is officially on the market. And we're in one of those unique situations. We don't have to move. We want to move. We want a house with a little more space and a bigger yard. Something that accommodates two growing girls and the toy store that they've stocked at our current house. We have more inventory than space.

So the question begins, where do we move to? We have so many options. So many different neighborhoods... a whole tri-state area. There are so many different types of criteria. And I can't find a place with them all that we can afford. We'd like a place with good schools. Great schools really. So I've been searching the different districts on greatschools.org (which is awesome!). And I'd also like a huge yard... like acres... So I search the realtor's website for places with 1+ acres (I'd love 5+...). And we need a place that can accommodate us, our kids, and home offices. And the yard should hopefully already be fenced in for the dogs. And it would be nice if we could find a brick home. That doesn't need much work done to it. With a basement. And a butler. And a pool. With a pool boy. And a money tree in the back yard...

It's funny, but I didn't think it would be so hard to find what we were looking for. And then there's that messy bit of actually selling our current house... I feel like I need some sort of scale to measure my current stress level so I could accurately quantify it.

Ah well, we'll see what happens. Stay tuned, I suppose. :)

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Mommy Guilt - Adoption Style

Last night was a rough night. After finishing up at work, Jon was gone at class and I was home taking care of the girls. Logan is teething right now and was in a rather uncharacteristically sour mood. Lorelai was demanding my attention and was extremely unhappy anytime I devoted any amount of attention to Logan. There was a lot of crying. And whining. A lot.

For hours I ran back and forth, comforting one child and then the next. I retrieved teething rings, toys and books. I carried two screaming children at once because both demanded to be carried at one time. I refereed disagreements over who could touch certain toys. And by 8pm, I was exhausted. Spent. I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't wait for them to go to bed. And as I thought to myself 'Will bedtime ever get here?' I was overwhelmed with guilt... because I'm damn lucky to have these kids. I shouldn't feel like this. I just shouldn't...

I see my friends make posts on Facebook or say things over coffee about how their kids were getting on their nerves. Or that they were in need of a break. They need mommy time. They can't take their little monsters anymore. And I feel their pain. I get it. I need a break sometimes too. But I won't say it. I won't put it out there on Facebook or say to my friends that I've been bitten three times today and I wanted to hide. Because I feel guilty.

Something in me tells me that it's not okay for me to complain about my kids. I should feel lucky that I get to have a kid bite me. I could be sitting here still wishing for a child. But there's something about giving birth to a child that gives you some sort of right to complain. I brought you into this world, I can take you out! We've all heard people say that right? I can't say that. And the equivalent - I can take you back! - makes me shudder. The absolute fear that we couldn't keep them terrifies me to no end. That's not a threat that would ever come out of my mouth. (Not because of their birth families - don't take that the wrong way - they are wonderful people. I shudder because I waited for a long time to get them and I'd never in a million years want to reverse that.).


I think at the heart of this is my fear of judgment. When my friends complain (really they're just venting, not complaining), I think - yes, they've had a tough day. We've all been there. But when I think about complaining I fear that they are going to think things like - She should be grateful she has kids. Maybe she wasn't supposed to be a mom. Maybe there was a REASON she couldn't get pregnant. And I fear that birth family members will think things like - Maybe we shouldn't have done this. She doesn't really appreciate those kids. Maybe we should have picked a family that would REALLY love them.

And thus, while all moms feel guilty about things from time to time - I've got an adoption-oriented twist to my guilt. I don't know if all adoptive parents feel this way or not. Maybe I'm just hyper sensitive to it. I sometimes feel like my parenting abilities are under a microscope. Like so many people are watching me and wondering if I'm doing it right.

At any rate, I needed a break. And fortunately the girls went to bed and I zoned in front of the TV for an hour and all was good again. But I felt guilty for needing that break. And this morning I hugged and kissed them about a hundred times and told them how much I love them. And I do. I love them more than anything in the whole universe. Even if I need a break now and then.

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House Shopping

We've begun our adventure in shopping for new houses. And Lorelai is actively involved. This past weekend we printed out a list of houses that we found on the internet that we thought we might be interested in and went for a drive. We decided to just drive past the houses to see if the location was something we were interested in. As we drove past each house, Jon and I would make our assessment. Too little backyard... neighbors are too close... weird looking neighbors... 

And as we continued making these assessments, Lorelai began to chime in with her insights. I no like this house! I'm not sure that she even grasped which house exactly we were looking out, but not wanting her to feel left out we pressed her for further details. Often she reported that she just didn't like it there. She didn't want to live there.

Until we saw the house with the cows. 

Sure. The house itself may have been a pile of rubble. But it had cows! Cows! COWS!!! That's the house for us. She was sure of it.

And then there was the house that had 3 deer in its yard... and the one with a whole flock of wild turkeys running around...

But nothing quite topped the cows. And I'm sad to report that we are not going to make that little girl's day and buy her the cow house. But we'll keep looking. Maybe we'll find one that has cows and a roof.

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4th of July Unspectacular

So the 4th of July holiday is not what it once was for Jon and I. Memories abound of us letting off fireworks, making swamp water (throwing all the left over alcohol in the house in a vat with punch), and partying into the wee hours with our friends. Ah, but the past is behind us.

Now for the second year in a row, we were in bed before the fireworks even started. And you probably heard us cursing the neighbors for letting off fireworks all night long because it made our biggest dog whimper and woke up the kids. We weren't trying to be cranky old people. Honestly. It's just that the kids can't physically stay awake long enough to see the fireworks (We tried! Blame daylight savings!) And by the time we get the kids to bed, we can barely stay awake ourselves. And thus, we've become old curmudgeons. Plain and simple. I expect you'll hear me shouting, "Get off my lawn!" someday really soon. And if those kids are anything like I was, there will be toilet paper hanging from my trees in no time.

Let the games begin.

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