Making Memories

Memories have always been important to me, and now even more that I’m a parent. I’m always taking pictures of my kids, recording videos, trying to capture a specific moment in time. For what though? So we can show them when they’re older? Look here, see, you loved smearing food all over your face, and here’s the time you were running around the front yard naked. I guess it’s to remind ourselves of everything because we’re too busy living it to remember it.

It’s interesting what triggers our memories. The other day I saw a navy blue S that reminded me of going to the bank with my father when I was little. The bank’s logo was a blue S that somehow engrained itself in my memory and popped up out of nowhere. All of a sudden I was standing inside that dark, musty bank playing with the metal chain holding the pen in place at the counter, running my fingers down the felt ropes as we waited in line, and hopping on one foot to the other envisioning the donut I would soon select. I hadn’t thought about going to the bank with my father for 30 years, so it seemed like a strange thing to remember, but I was glad that this forgotten time and place came back to me. I didn’t even realize it was still in there, and all triggered by this random blue S.

We took our girls to see Inside Out awhile ago. It was the little one’s first trip to the movie theater, so naturally I committed it to memory. She loved it all: the popcorn, the fruit punch, and the giant TV, as she called it. Her little face was lit with excitement the entire time.

As much as the movie is about memories, it’s also about emotions —  joy, anger, disgust, fear, and sadness to be exact. Even though my girls are young, they’re walking, talking, screaming, fighting, loving bundles of emotion, so the movie thrilled and terrified me, giving me a look inside their crazy, little heads. I know as they get older things will only get more complicated and I should just enjoy this time where everything can be fixed with a snuggle. Way easier said than done.

As parents, we try so hard to give our children the best of everything thinking it will ensure an amazing upbringing. It’s one of the reasons why parenthood is so difficult because things aren’t always so easy and nothing ever really goes as planned and we worry too much. Writing this it dawned on me that what made going to the bank with my father special was not what we were doing, or that I got a donut out of the deal, but that I was with him, holding his hand, being his little sidekick. It all seems so simple then. Hold their hands, be with them, and they’ll remember that more than anything. And also, take them to get a donut every now and then.

 

 

Two Candles

Happy 2nd Birthday to our little Cheeto!

177

My baby turns two today and that fact makes me want to cry both happy and sad tears simultaneously. Happy because she’s that much closer to getting out of diapers, sad because she’s that much closer to getting out of diapers. Happy because she’s getting bigger and finding her voice, sad because she’s using that voice to scream at her sister.

Since I can barely keep up with anything these days, I had to make sure I wrote her a birthday letter before it was too late.

Dear Miss Bear,

Happy Birthday, Bun Bun! 2 years old going on 20. Your little voice is one of my favorite things in the world. It’s just so sweet. Everything you say is followed up with “Mama” and it melts my heart. However, we need to work on your pronunciation some more. Whenever you say the word, frog, it sounds exactly like duck…but with an f. So naturally, your father and I ask you which animal says “ribbit” way more than we should. Just don’t let me catch you saying, “Frog you, Mama,” anytime soon.

You are quite the little pistol, so it’s a good thing your Bambi eyes and blond curls make up for your fiery,  yet loving, personality. You need that though to put up with your older sister as she gives you enough competition as it is. The two of you together run the show around here, and I hope you are as thick as thieves your entire lives (although I don’t condone any actual thievery). Most of the time you guys are fighting over toys, and soon enough it will be clothes and the bathroom, but there are moments when you hold hands and laugh together and those moments fill me with so much joy.

Two years ago I hugged your little body against mine for the first time and it is one of my most treasured memories. Now you hug me back and squeeze me with all your might and it is the best feeling in the world.

We had an absolutely perfect day playing at the beach, running from the waves, squealing with delight, my three favorite faces ever.

Happy Birthday our darling girl. We love you!

Picture Perfect

It’s no surprise that my kids drive me crazy. They are the loudest, most demanding little soul-suckers that ever walked this earth. Couple that with my extreme fatigue and we’re just a shitstorm waiting to happen.

Whenever we visit my mom I have an out of body experience where I see myself as the frazzled, exhausted cliché of a mom that I’ve become. Wearing the typical “mom” uniform of crusty yoga pants and T-shirt, I vent to her about my frustrations and wonder how she survived motherhood without downing three bottles of wine a night.

It’s not always like this though. There are snippets in between the madness when everything is lovely. And those snippets are what I put on Instagram for my friends and family so they see the illusion of my “picture perfect” life.

beach scene

waves

running

While scrolling through all my photos it looks like my life is pretty great, and at times it is, but I never have the chance to sit back and reflect on it or even enjoy it because everything is so damn crazy!

However, this morning the girls and I sat at the desk and watched a slide show of old photos play across the computer screen.

holding handswalking away

snuggles

beach

I held one on my lap while the other leaned against us and we all smiled while I explained the pictures and for a couple minutes I was aware of my luck. Then the little one tried to propel herself onto the desk while the other one tried to smash the keyboard and just like that, it was all over.

Parenthood is exhausting and frustrating and beautiful and heartbreaking. I never realized that it would be living for these tiny, fleeting moments where everything comes together and breaks apart all in the same instant. It’s wanting to pause every happy moment and fast forward through the rest of the chaos. It’s wanting to keep them this way forever and wishing they were already grown up. It’s everything all at once and for this reason I’m happy to have my wineglass waiting for me at the end of the day.

wine

 

The Chachi Fairy Cometh

I finally did what I said I was going to do for ages now–get rid of the effing chachi (or pacifier for all you normal people out there). We kept finding excuses to put it off: we were going on vacation and couldn’t do that to the grandparents, or we were just too tired, or we were just too scared.

To tell the truth I was dreading it, even though I knew it had to happen! Everyone I talked to said it would take 3 days of screaming and I just couldn’t do that to myself. However, it was so much easier than I thought it would be! (Feel free to punch or throw something or throw a punch at me!)

Sure, the Chachi Fairy had to send her assistant racing to the nearest sporting goods store to purchase a scooter and something for the smaller one, and then she had to collect the 2 chachis and put them in their little pouch so the big one could place them in the tree in the front yard for pickup in the middle of the night.

And of course the chachis would become permanent stars in the sky so the girls could always see them at night. Daddy even went so far as to point out their Mama’s old chachi. Oh yeah, and she also had to wrap the presents and make little cards with glitter hearts so that by the time she was done, the house looked like Tinkerbell farted pixie dust everywhere! This all sounds so silly, but it freaking worked!

Chachi Fairy's Business Card

Chachi Fairy’s Business Card

Love,  The Chachi Fairy

Love,
The Chachi Fairy

My wine glass and I were prepared for a sleepless week–a terrible, horrible, no-good very bad week. But on the first night, the little one slept straight through without a peep and we were shocked. She didn’t do that when she had the chachi! She usually woke up a couple times needing it put back in. The big one had a harder time obviously because she had the stupid thing for much longer, but after a couple days of asking about Chachi, she stopped and forgot about it.

So there you have it. All that time I could’ve thrown them away sooner and saved myself countless hours of searching for a goddamn pacifier!

I’m so excited that they’re gone–it feels like I’ve won some big important parenting award! The hubby is excited too, but he couldn’t part with them for sentimental reasons, or maybe it was because he wanted them as backup in case our plan didn’t work.

Maybe we’ll have them bronzed for posterity’s sake.

Success!

Success!

A Tale of Sisterly Love

No one wants to share the spotlight especially when it’s the first-born and she’s losing her crown of Only Child. I worried how it would affect my daughter when our second one came along. All pushing and hair pulling aside, she mostly loves her baby sister. (It’s actually the little one I have to worry about! She’s more of a “bully!”)

One of our new favorite books addresses the issue of sibling rivalry. In Chloe, Instead written and illustrated by Micah Player, the big sister, Molly, laments having to share her house with her little sister, Chloe, and how it’s not the picnic she envisioned.

Chloe!

The cover alone makes me happy!

Molly wanted a little sister just like her to share in her love of keyboards, reading, and coloring…

Everything's Great

Everything’s Great…

but Chloe is a little too passionate and “spirited” as babies discovering the world can be.

…until Molly snaps!

Chloe is the cutest little spitfire and reminds me of my younger one, (especially the fact that her cuteness saves her!) She’s got that gleam in her eye that says, “Watch out, world!” And Molly is a lot like my older one who likes things done her way and will not budge unless bribed with a sweet treat.

Cheeky Monkey

Cheeky Monkey

Maybe it’s because the story is about two little girls, or maybe because the pictures are just so darn cute, or maybe it’s a little bit of both, but I’m head over heels for this book and I know you’ll be too!

Oh, Chloe!

Oh, Chloe!

April Showers Bring May Babies

When it’s your first baby shower, (as with your first wedding) I remember wanting everything to be perfect. Like ripped from the pages of a magazine perfect. And what is the first impression that any of your guests will have?

The invitation, of course!

When you’re planning your wedding you have complete control over the invitation, but not so much when it comes to your baby shower because usually someone else is throwing it in your honor so you let them have creative control and hope that their taste level matches yours. I have champagne taste on a beer budget (and I’m not talking cheap champagne either), I’m talking Perrier Jouet taste.

Luckily my friends and family know me pretty well and threw the best parties complete with adorable invitations that are now treasured keepsakes in my daughter’s baby books. If you’re really worried about it, you can always send the hostess some examples of what you like and hope they get your subtle hint, or if you have bigger balls you can send them exactly what you want!

A very good friend is expecting her first child this coming summer and I’d love to return the favor of a beautiful baby shower (she’s thrown 2 for me!) so I’m already scouting for the perfect invitation. Also, she just found out it’s a boy so that helps narrow the search somewhat. Minted has some amazing baby shower invitations that I know she’d love. Here are just a few that caught my eye:

Vintage-inspired

Vintage-inspired

This is somewhat of a classic option. I love the font and the vintage feel it gives off. It would look great in the baby book for years to come.

Who Doesn't Love an Elephant?

I heart this little guy!

This one would make a great theme as it features the cutest little elephant and fun, cheery colors.

Cute Gallery Wall

Adorable

I love this one because it looks like a gallery wall and features the parents initials. There are other color options too!

Perfect!

I’ll Drink to That!

This one is perfect for those co-ed showers where our better halves are invited to hang out and drink beer amongst the festivities.

Sip & See

If you haven’t heard of a “Sip & See” then you’re really missing out! My mother-in-law has the best group of friends and threw a “Sip & See” for my second baby. You have the baby, wait a few weeks, then debut her at a party where you get to ‘sip’ champagne and they get to ‘see’ your baby i.e. pass her around while you stuff your face with delicious appetizers and cake pops. It’s all the rage these days! (At least if it’s your second or third child as you would never agree to this kind of party when it’s your first. But for any subsequent birth, you jump at the chance!) It’s a great option and just look at how cute that invitation is!

If you’re like me and love every single one you come across, pick a theme first then go from there!

Mint Condition

It would be foolish of me to have another baby just to create a beautiful birth announcement, but I’m pretty sure a lot of babies have been born for even more foolish reasons. After browsing through Minted’s selections of announcements, I have half a brain to ask my hubby if his procedure can be reversed, then the other half of my brain slaps me back to reality and says, “You can’t handle the two you have!”

Minted’s announcements are so gorgeous they make me want to get knocked up. That’s some powerful ish, because I wouldn’t do it again if you paid me. Well, maybe if you paid me enough and were my very good gay friend who doesn’t have a uterus of his own. Then I might be swayed.

Luckily, with the help of Dr. Weinstein of Santa Barbara, a third baby is not in my future. That said, I still have friends that are not done growing their families and might need some help choosing this very important way to introduce their precious bundle to the world. So here are a few of my faves from Minted (if I could do it all over again):

Makes me so happy!

Fun & Festive

I love this design so much. The shape of the card and the cheeriness of the colors won me over right away. There are other color options that are equally as gorgeous.

Or,

Sweet & Girly

Sweet & Girly

This one is all sugar and spice and makes me want to throw a tea party with little sandwiches and French macaroons.

Or,

For boys or girls

Unisex & Modern

A cool and unique approach for little girls or boys displaying all the important stats in a fresh way.

Or,

Simple & Bold

Simple & Bold

If I had a boy, I would’ve gone with something like this last one. But I had 2 girls so it was all flowers and pink for me.

Really, you can’t go wrong. They’re all so beautiful and well-designed. It’s a hard decision to make because when you put your baby’s perfect face on any of them, they instantly become the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen. Plus, they have all these cool new features like gold foil-pressed announcements (since I’m obsessed with anything gold these days) and magnet options like all those nifty “save-the-dates” that couples send out for their weddings now.

Seriously what will they think of next?

I shouldn’t be jealous, but I totally am. Not jealous enough to do anything drastic though like have another baby. I’ll send out birth announcements for a new dog before I go and do something that crazy!

Another Birthday Letter

To Our Kooky Lil Bundle-of-Fun,

Happy 3rd Birthday Lovey Bear! You might as well be turning 23 today instead of 3 because you’re just so grown up now. You are quite the little character, telling tales using your hands like an even tinier Roberto Benigni. In fact, you look a lot like him. Same crazy hair, miniature body, and insane excitability. I’m going to enroll you in Italian classes tomorrow to complete my vision.

You

You

Him

Him

 

That old cliché is true…it seems like just yesterday your father and I were bringing you back from the hospital, staying up all night holding your precious little body, and staring at you with such wonder. We couldn’t wait to hear your little voice for the first time or find out who you’d become. I know you have a lot of growing and changing still to do, but I love who you are and will love who you’ll be no matter what. You are so smart and want to discover as much as possible. You love horses and balloons and books. Your favorite song is Alphabet Pony and you love interpretive dance. You make me laugh the best laughs of my life and that is everything.

We took you to Disneyland for the first time (cause you were free) and your favorite part was the carousel and picking out which color saddle you wanted. You loved A Small World and Dumbo and had more sugar than real food. You picked out a pair of glittery red Minnie Mouse shoes and you wore them home. All in all, it was a great day and I’m glad we could go.

I hope your birthday was as special as you are. Daddy and I love you like crazy.

All my love,
Mama

The Mayor of Poopville

My sash?

My sash?

Might as well be my new title. It’s not normal to pick up poo off the bathroom floor every day…or maybe it is if you’re me and you have two babies.

I was so smug when I first started potty-training my daughter a few months ago. One day she decided she had to go and she was going to do it on the toilet. Super easy…but I should’ve known it was too good to be true. She really set me up for defeat. Her first time going #2 ended with her exclaiming that she “Went poop in the potty” and when she came to get me to show me, sure enough there it was in all its humongous glory. I wasn’t even trying to potty-train and it was happening. That was my little genius!

Now, pooping her pants is a daily occurrence. I try so hard not to get frustrated and upset with her because I’m aware that she’s only two years old and she’s still learning, but you would think that after squeezing one out in her undies caused an unfavorable response the day before (hell, even ten minutes before!) that she wouldn’t do it again. Wrong! I catch her worried deer-in-the-headlights duty face and know that I’ll be retrieving her stinky grenades once they fall from her pants as I hurriedly take them off of her in the hopes that she’ll finish her business in the appropriate place. That’s never the case though and I’m left with a doo-doo speckled floor and a baby trying to crawl right through it.

It’s a complete nightmare and beyond upsetting. I have to lock the little one out in the hallway while I clean up the bigger one and the floor which results in the little one screaming bloody murder because she’s all alone and the other one starts in with her ridiculous line of questioning. “You happy? You’re so proud of me? You’re not happy? You mad? You happy?” On endless repeat until she’s cleaned up and off the potty or until I slam my face against the door jamb–whichever comes first.

If it’s unclear, this is one of my personal levels of hell.

When I try to vent to the hubby, he doesn’t get it. How could he though when he’s never had to clean up as much doo doo as I’ve had to? And will continue to, there is another baby after all. (Kill me now!)

As far as Poopville goes, the hubby just passes through town every now and then, having to deal with it every once in awhile. He couldn’t even point it out on a map. Guess I’ll have to own my title and work on throwing a parade in my honor. I can see it now. The float will be covered in toilet-paper roses. I’ll sit on my throne waving my toilet brush scepter wearing a tiara made from empty toilet-paper rolls while a symphony of flushing guides me through town.

Maybe I should just be happy that I’m the Mayor of something, although I’d rather it were Skinnytown or FilthyRichTown. I’ll have to settle for Poopville for a little while longer. Who am I kidding–at the rate we’re going–a lot longer.

Caillou = The Worst

Before I became a parent, I was one of those annoying people who used to talk about what I would and wouldn’t let my hypothetical child do (don’t worry, we all do it). Well, not watching TV was on that list. Remember I said before I became a parent.

Then the baby turned into a toddler and against my better judgment I let her watch a little TV which became a lot of TV. Big mistake because she somehow fell in love with the most miserable cartoon ever created…Caillou. Although it seems every children’s show throughout history has driven parents to drink (don’t even get me started on Barney!), this one really takes the prize. For those of you who haven’t been tortured by listening to Caillou’s whiny, nasally voice complain about everything, consider yourself lucky. He is a snotty little wanker with a bald head and a terrible attitude. An attitude that my daughter has adopted. She’s like his little clone.

This is totally a thing!

“Teaching kids to be whiny brats since 1997.” See, it’s totally a thing!

I brought this on myself by letting her watch him in the first place. Then I made matters worse by buying her a set of Caillou books, a puzzle, and the DVD. It’s the damnedest thing. You want to give your child the world even if it’s something you can’t stand, because a teeny tiny piece of you enjoys watching it with her because she loves it so much. I’m not saying I like Caillou–I loathe him, if loathing a cartoon character is possible– but I like making her happy and more importantly, keeping her quiet while Mummy cleans the kitchen.

But we finally had enough. Daddy put his foot down once we realized she sounded just like that bratty little twat. So we banned him and have been a Caillou-free household ever since. And I must admit it is nice! Wish I would’ve done it ages ago! I don’t hum that stupid theme song every five minutes like I used to and I don’t have to look at his stupid face and listen to his stupid parents who are drawn the exact stupid way but with different hair.

We’ve moved on to Sophia the First. At least she’s a pleasant little girl who became a princess overnight, so there’s no pretentiousness there. I’ve never heard her complain once. She talks to animals and remains friends with the village folk. Now, there’s a role model my daughter can look up to! However, if she starts saying the animals talk back to her, we might have a problem.

The Commoner's Princess

The Commoner’s Princess