Whoops - it's August

OK, so I apparently suck at blogging, seeing how my last entry was at the end of February and it's now the middle of August. Sorry, kids!

A quick recap of the last few months:
1) Buttercup started walking!!! I think she was maybe 12.5 months old when this happened? In any case, since then she has proven to be quite a kamikaze renegade bombardier who likes to run HEAD-FIRST into the couch. She also has quite a knack for climbing things. Rascal's physical prowess bloomed much later, in comparison (and yes, I know it's wrong to compare kids and that they are all individuals that need to be recognized for their uniqueness, etc), so before Buttercup, I thought that parents who complained about how physically exhausting it was to chase a toddler around all day suffered from McGraw's tendancy to exaggerate things. OK, now I get it. I'm frigging tired and need a rest! Buttercup - you are cute, no doubt about it, but watching you use the back of the couch as a tightrope is starting to make the gray hairs on my head come in a little too quickly!

2) Rascal went through a spell that could have made Mussolini run cowering for the hills. Through vigorous Google research on preschool sociopathy, in-depth polling of my friends and the observations of other 3 year olds around town, thankfully, this is apparently normal. For a while, though, I was beginning to wonder if he'd ever snap out of it: EVERYTHING was a battle. I mean EVERYTHING. At one point, I asked Rascal if the sky was blue. He screamed "NO!" as though I was the world's biggest moron for even suggesting it. He perfected the art of the flail and whine. Our neighbors probably thought we were pulling out his fingernails one by one with all the screaming he was doing. And he threw the epic of all tantrums one night that lasted over an hour and took him from the living room to the kitchen, up the stairs and eventually into his room. Finally, McGraw and I vowed to just ignore him, and guess what, our little tyrant is now a sweet, hysterical, loving little boy who LOVES his little sister (about 90% of the time). Rascal - I love you so much and feel like, similar to any relationship, what didn't kill us definitely made us stronger!

3) I started back to work. Maybe it was the long winter and the mountains of snow outside. Maybe it was that I was starting to forget the difference between Their, There and They're. Or maybe it was just that I actually like working, but I stumbled across the perfect (for right now) job that allows me to attempt to be smart and a grown up 3 days a week (not to mention, put on clothing that isn't made out of cotton knit), and still have the kiddos home with me the other two days, where we can do all kinds of fun stuff like going to the farm, the library or Starbuck's!

OK, so there it is in an extremely small nutshell. Everyday Buttercup and Rascal do things that make me want to pull my hair out, but even more importantly, they do things that warm my heart so much and make me wonder what the hell I did to deserve such amazing, sweet, adorable little children. I am so thankful that they are both in very lovey phases right now (Buttercup's kisses are fast and furious, and she LOVES to give them! Rascal won't let me leave his room at night without an extra-long hug!). I'll take it while it lasts.

"Proud" parenting moment (depending on who you ask)

OK, first, I suck - it's been over a month since my last post. I have NO good excuse. Kids have been sick, husband has been traveling, snow has been falling. Still, cute things have been happening around me every day and I keep filing them away in my memory bank instead of documenting them here. SHAME on me.

Tonight, we truly learned that Rascal is indeed McGraw's son. I sometimes let Rascal have comendere my iPhone where he plays educational games watches Justin Bieber videos on youtube. Tonight was such a night, because sometimes a Mom just has to watch the news E! News. So I was watching "the news" and a story about Lindsay Lohan came on. I know she's a train wreck, but she's also the star of one of Rascal's (and my) favorite movies: Parent Trap (the remake, and I have no qualms with loving the new version and not the old, although I did one time see Haley Mills in the lobby of my gyno office -AWESOME!). Anyway, as McGraw and I were watching LiLo, they showed footage of her "more demure" outfit that she recently wore to a court date (and by more demure, I'm not quite sure what they meant... more demure than going nude, a la Madonna in that book where she's walking down the street with her hoo-ha hanging out?). Anyway, I said: "Ew, look at her boobs!" Rascal, who usually I can sit there and say "Rascal, Rascal, Rascal, Rascal, Rascal, Rascal, Rascal" and he won't even bat a single girls-will-be-jealous-of-those-some-day eyelash, immediately looked up from his educational game video to catch a glimpse of her "girls". Awesome.

Song Sung Blue

At some point within the past few years, I gave up "cool" music and just learned to embrace my inner cheesy-ness. First on my list of favorite genres is country music. Coming from New England, it isn't necessarily a given that country would be what gets my toe tappin'. Second lately is what some might call "teeny-bopper" music. My iPod proudly contains tunes by Miley Cirus (ok, only one song), Lady Gaga, Black Eyed Peas and Katie Perry. I'm cool with it.

If some of my friends ever got hold of my iPod and scrolled through my "most played" list, I'd die of embarassment. But if Rascal ever scrolled through my "most played" list, he'd likely ask me to turn it up and start singing along.

Tonight on the way home from school, "Firework" by Ms. Perry came on. Knowing that Rascal had requested this song on a previous road trip with McGraw, I cranked it up and let the magic happen. First he told me to stop singing (quelching my last dream that SOMEONE would discover that I actually have a very good voice - I guess only in my imagination), he asked me to turn it loud, and then he proceeded to sing along in his perfect, 3-year old voice. There was a lot of "nah-nah-nah" singing, but when it came to the chorus, he knew all the words. I didn't know whether to cringe or be proud.

Sure, before I had kids, I swore I'd have them singing to cool music. I'd forgo Raffi and Barney for Jack Johnson and other "grown up" music. I didn't really think I'd hear my son requesting Miley at age 2.5. But that's how we roll.

People have remarked how well Rascal can carry a tune. For that, I am extremely proud. At least someone in this family gets the recogniton for their vocal talents they deserve. But nothing made me prouder than this evening when, after "Firework" was over, Rascal remarked: "She was whining in that song. You know, when she goes 'ah, ah, ah'." As always, he does have a point. Oh, kind of like when he pointed out: "Lady Gaga is a clown." Well said, Rascal. Well said.

The best part of wakin' up

Rascal has FINALLY learned the art of sleeping in, with 7am as his wake-up time (rather than his previous, painful time of 6:25). Of course, this is coupled with Buttercup now forgoing her previous 7am wake-up time for an even more painful 6am. Good times.

Regardless of the wake-up time, nothing beats walking into Buttercup's room to see her grinning from ear to ear and clapping her hands with excitement to start her day. And walking into Rascal's room, this morning he told me: "Mom, you're a princess!" What a guy. This was followed by: "Wildebeests are animals." Alrighty, then.

All I want for MLK day is my 2 front teeth

Well, I thought Buttercup's top 2 chompers would have made their debut before Christmas so we could sing that ridiculously annoying song, but I was wrong. I am so excited to share that her latest pearly whites popped through yesterday. The left side is a little ahead of the right, but they are both fully visible.

I don't know why I feel like her two front teeth is such a monumental occasion. Thinking about it, I guess her getting one step closer to a full grill is also one step closer to her looking more like a big kid and less like an infant. I keep trying to picture her with a big toothy grin, long hair and mobile, and it is so hard! She's already so big, so sturdy and so far from her fragile newborn being, that I can't believe she's only been here a few months.

Rascal's babyhood crawled by very slowly (which was great). I always wondered why everyone remarked: "it goes by so fast." For me, I felt like Rascal and I were enjoying a prolonged lazy summer day, and I loved it. By the time he turned 2, I felt like he and I had known each other for 80 years.

Buttercup's infancy has been different. I blinked and I had a 6-month old. And now that she's 8 months, about to crawl, babbling and saying mama and dada, I feel like I want to put a screetching halt to it all and just breathe her in with a deep inhale.

Wow - who knew teeth could evoke such emotions! As long as she doesn't test those bad boys out while nursing, we'll be all good.

A Round of Applause

Princess Buttercup has learned how to clap!!! Man, I love her.

Procrastination

So Rascal has found the perfect way to combine potty training and delaying bedtime (as I suspect many 3 year olds do). Tonight he was upstairs with Cousin Marlowe getting ready for nigh-nights. Cuz came downstairs for something and somehow managed to hang downstairs long enough to kind of forget that Rascal was perched on the pot. I went up to check on him and found him as such:
Binkie in mouth.
Nuh-nee (his lovey) laid across his legs.
Walmart toy catalog from Christmas on the floor, opened to his favorite page.

He looked up and said to me: "I'm poopin'. Come sit down (pointing to the grown-up potty) and poop with me."

Careful what you wish for

So every parent of course hopes they raise kids that are intelligence. Especially in today's society, it seems like moms and dads sign their kids up for different enrichment classes, focus on turning off the TV and eat lots of brain food to help ensure some additional smarts. Well, careful what you wish for.

Tonight, Rascal ate all his dinner. I was pretty proud, because for once, I actually remembered to put something green (BROCCOLI) on his plate and he ate it! Well, later on this evening, I was telling him he did a great job eating all his dinner. I could then see the synapses firing in his little brain. He reminded me: "I ate my dinner all, so I get dessert!" I then heard the freezer drawer opening and he came trotting into the living room, stating: "See, we have ice cream!"

This is all 2 minutes before bedtime. I gotta give the kid credit. He's got some pretty big smarty pants!

Snow Day!

It's barely the afternoon and we've got nearly a foot and a half of snow. McGraw is traveling (he has such impeccable timing for work trips), so it's just me, the kids (Rascal & Princess Buttercup) and my niece, Marlowe*.

This morning, Rascal saw all the snow outside and immediately his eyes brightened. "Santa brought us more presents?" Um. Yeah. If Santa had won last week's Megamillions jackpot of $330 mil, then maybe he'd consider a reprise. But no, two people in a Dakota and perhaps a Vegas suburb are the ones Santa revisited today.

On Facebook today, I saw lots of people excited to spend a day snowed in with their kids. My heart grew warm for them. I picture them all snuggled by a fire, playing a nice family game of Pictionary while sipping hot chocolate. Our snowday has consisted of none of that. Wait, not entirely true. Rascal enjoyed a nice mug of luke-warm chocolate, which he started drinking with his crazy straw until he realized it is far more entertaining to spew said luke-warm chocolate out of said crazy straw all over the kitchen counter and Buttercup.

Speaking of Buttercup, she is fairly used to being housebound. We have days where we don't do much outside the compound, but today is different. She must know she has no choice but to be inside, because she's transformed her sleeping habits into those that rival a teenager. She slept in until 7:30 (!!!), napped til 11 (!!!) and promptly went back for her afternoon snooze at 1 (!!!). But during her less than 4 hours she has spent awake so far today (time check - it's 2pm), she has been as restless as a kid at a lecture on migratory patterns of Norwegian Salmon. I think she's just eager to really get moving, so sitting nicely, surrounded by whichever toys I can chuck her way for her to play with is clearly no longer an option. Even her beloved exersaucer, from which I've been so fearful she'd launch herself right out of with all her rigorous jumping, is getting boring for her. Now, she wants to use me as a human jungle gym all.the.time. Not that I should complain - she also loves to snuggle while she practices her climbing, and that just can't be beat.

I did get Rascal outside to burn some energy, and he and Marlowe had a blast sledding around the streets. Even though there are more than 20 years between them, they are the cutest cousins to watch together. "Look at me, Marlowe," Rascal will shreik as he attempts to jump from one side of the couch to the other, hurdling his sister or narrowly avoiding a faceplant with the carpet. Coming inside and getting ready for nap, Rascal wanted to leave his long-johns on. "So I look like a 'Inja," he said. Gotta love it. He is my little 'inja. I never know whether I'll be getting a hug or a "gentle" karate chop, and you know, a good 'inja always knows how to keep his prey on their toes.

My last thought on this snow day: Thank goodness for saintly neighbors, is all I can say. Tahoe and Ithaca have been lifesavers. They both commandeered our snowblower in McGraw's absence, taking turns busting through all the snow drifts in front of our house and in our driveway. I think secretly they both (like I'm sure any man) enjoyed the thrill of the motor gasping for more throttle purring as snow went hurling through the sky. During the last snowstorm, after only 3 inches had fallen and many more were anticipated, McGraw had his nose smooshed so flat against the glass, I thought he'd bust right through the window with all his excitement. I had to beg him to hold off until the city snowplows were done completely barracading us into our driveway clearing the snow off the streets before he was let loose on all the fluffy stuff.


* Names in this blog have been changed to protect the guilty innocent