And baby makes FOUR!

So it begins!  We officially became the luckiest two people to have two kids under the age of two (HA!) on February 25!  Rachel Lynn joined us at 10:16 a.m. after 5 hours of labor - quite the change from our experience with Elizabeth.  I went from 3 to 9 cm in about an hour and then she was here!  Aunt Allison was able to come down to play with Elizabeth for a couple days and it has helped to have that extra set of hands around the house.  Elizabeth isn't quite sure about this new little person - she knows it's a baby and it has some pretty cool stuff that is now in our living room...but why does she cry so loud and why is she on Mama's lap??!!  

 

With mama in the hospital.  They glued that little bow on her head.

 
 

Comfortable on daddy.

Please enjoy the pictures.  I'll keep trying to keep them updated while I have extra help around the house!

 

This was our first night home all together!  Me and my girls!

 

Day two with Aunt Allison...and the pooh hat.

 

So I thought these two were funny to compare.  The left is Rachel, a little over 48 hours old, and the right is Elizabeth at 48 hours.  Scary, huh?!

 

A better sisters shot will come...promise!

 

"Top it" and making it through the 9th month of Pregnancy

Our beautiful daughter has found a new phrase:  "Top it." 

She, no doubt, has heard me tell her to "stop it" maybe once or twice in her lifetime and has picked it up along the way.  And she has taken quite a shine to expressing her dislikes to her daddy and me.  For him, it's mostly when he's trying to brush her teeth at night ("top it" combined with head thrusting) and for me, it's when I try to wash her face in the morning ("top it" as she rubs oatmeal all over whatever I'm wearing).

She is also fascinated with all of the baby stuff accumulating in Mommy and Daddy's room.  Last weekend, I got out all the little baby diapers (she let us know that they had "Eh-mo" on them) and the wipes and creams.  I don't know why I didn't expect her to mess with them...I just didn't think about it.  Well, it's a good thing the baby oil has a child proof lid because Scott saw our 18 month old grab the bottle, tip it up and make "glug, glug, glug...AHHHH" sounds like she was drinking it.  Great... 

So now, everything has relocated to the top of the tall dresser, along with the remote controls and cell phone charger, and his wallet and really anything else she gets her grubby mitts on.   This poor little baby has no clue what she's in for.

Speaking of the poor little baby, I can only feel so bad for her, as she has filed for permanent residence in my uterus and found a nice kick-boxing class that she obviously LOVES!  I have gone from uncomfortable to HOLY COW, I CAN BARELY WALK.  Isn't the last month of pregnancy great? 

People at the Y (yes, I still go to the Y...I think they have the paramedics on call when I walk in the door) call me "cute."  I told them that if there was one adjective I could choose that I don't feel like, it would be "cute."  We went back to the doctor today and were still at 3 cm - which is obviously where my children feel most comfortable - and he just smiled and patted my arm and told me there was "an end in site." 

That helped a lot.  

The past week has been entertaining, as walking or sitting or standing have become more difficult.  I am down to a few select pairs of clothes that fit over my butt and stomach at the same time - one being the very forgiving gray sweatpants I had to pry out of my best friend's fingers after her pregnancy.  (Who knew there were gray sweatpants for every stage in life?!  ha!) 

So this morning was a typical morning for 38.5 weeks of pregnancy.  I was trying to get ready to go to the doctor and get my 18 month old ready too.  We get dressed without a hiccup and I thought I would throw a load of clothes in the wash.  Lately, every time I do some sort of housework, Elizabeth pulls out all the pots and pans all over the floor. 

So, as I begin loading up the clothes, here she goes.  Frying pan, oven mitts, colander...wait, she needs the colander for her books so she hauls it into the living room.  Minutes later, I hear her in her room, playing tea party (so cute).

So I think I have the perfect opportunity to feed the dogs (who get their food in the garage).  Balancing two dog bowls and a full bowl of water in my hands, I make my way through the kitchen. 

My 9-month waddle is definitely not made for balance and all three tumbled to the floor.  Awesome.  My last outfit that is clean and actually fit is now soaked, there is dog food and water all over the kitchen and all of my pots and pans.  On top of the mess, I now hear the tell-tale run of my daughter coming down the hall. 

I quickly grab a towel and start mopping up water and she enters the scene just as I get the last of the water up. 

"Elizabeth, help mommy put the dog food in the bowls."  (You play your games with 18 month olds and I will play mine...)  So we start picking up kibble and she's actually really good at this game.  I'm thinking, perfect!  Until I see her also putting dog food in the tea cup she brought with her from the bedroom.  No!  That gets dumped in the dog bowls (screaming ensues - she obviously had that worked into her menu) and the tea cup and all of my pots and pans get tossed into the dish washer.  (More screaming... "top it, mama...")  I am still soaked so I throw my pink shirt with the stains on the front and gray sweat pants into the dryer and stand around in my underwear for the next 5 minutes as they get "presentable enough."  Just to hear my doctor assure me that the "end is in site..."  Ah, Dr. Riley, the adventure is just beginning, my friend.

Sometimes my child grosses me out

Monday is probably a good day to blog Elizabeth stories.  We had a great weekend together and she did not enjoy the Super Bowl except for the times that her daddy turned to the Puppy Bowl on Animal Planet.  That's when she would say "puppy" and pant.  I'm not sure where she picked up the panting part, but it's cute now.   If it continues to her teen years, I'll worry. She also fully mastered climbing up onto the couch by herself. She will start her knees up on the edge and grab the cushions and pull with all her might.  Once she's up there, my little dare devil likes to jump, which scares the bee-jeezers out of me.  Scott also believes we have a narcissist on our hands because she also likes to look at herself in the mirror above the couch.  Ah, what he has in store with raising girls!

Poopoo grabber

The whole introduction to potty training has me stumped just like introducing foods.  I keep reading suggestions and asking people who have little ones how they started the process.  It makes sense to me that the first stage is that she has to know when she's going potty.  So we introduced "poo poo" into the vocabulary.  This would be difficult if it wasn't glaringly obvious when my child was going to the bathroom, with her squat stance, red face and teary eyes... so every time the show started, I would consistently ask her if she was going poo poo.  At first, she assured me "nooooooooo" (followed by a strenuous head shake) and I'd have to grab her and the whole time I'm changing her, let her know that, "you poo poo'd."  

 

My child last summer with her Aunt Allison, in nothing but her "ba-boo"

The next step was that she started saying, "diaper" (Ba-boo) and would run back to her room., looking over her shoulder for me to follow her.  I was so proud of her!  I'd make over her and call her a good girl, still reiterating the poo poo.  So then came the day that I was watching my child dance to the Wiggles and, all of a sudden, she sticks a hand down the back of her diaper.

"What are you doing, Elizabeth?"

"Uh-oh, mama..., " she answers.

"Get your hands out of your diaper," I say.

"Boo-boo...," remarks my beautiful child, who has now preceeded to pull a handful of poo poo out of her diaper.  I jump up as fast as a 9 month pregnant woman can and run over and grab her, running to the changing table to try to keep her from touching anything.  Oh, it was awful!  I was so grossed out.  Of course, both of our mothers have died laughing upon hearing this story. After a good week of wearing onesies and overall's again (creating a barrier to reach into the diaper), she would tell me uh-oh without having to reach in and see for herself what she had done.  And I guess the next stage is that her daddy and I actually have to go buy a potty.  But I swear, I will never forget that initial poo poo grab...yuck!!

More of my daughter's cleaning obsession

I got more comments about Elizabeth's cleaning of our bathroom, so I thought I would share more of her adventures.  She is obsessed about things going back where they go.  Don't let me put a toy away in the wrong place - she'll take it and put it in the spot where it goes.  When I get the vaccuum cleaner out, she will run up and work her feet along the pedals, like she sees me doing, and I normally let her hold onto the handle while I'm cleaning.  I'm on the lookout for a little vaccuum cleaner of her own.  I saw one at Walmart that played music, but it looked so annoying that I thought I would regret the purchase!  Elizabeth also loves the dishwasher and can lift the door up and down and will even attempt to climb on top of the door when it's open.  I know...awesome, right?  If you're not careful, she'll grab the silverware basket out and run around the house with it, getting water everywhere.  

 

Here's a shot of her helping with the cleaning

But her latest hangup is with socks.  We keep her socks matched up in a little basket in her closet and they're in her reach...but I figured, they're socks so what does it really matter?  Most nights, she'll run out of her room with that basket, plop down on the floor, and begin separating the socks in little piles.  My dad got the biggest kick out of this while he was here and would even egg her on by matching them back up.  (I know...not MY dad!)  What's cued this, I have no clue and it really is harmless until I'm ready to get her dressed in the morning and can't find matching socks!