I was going to sit down and write this later, but I just finished up the breakfast dishes and found myself with half a cup of coffee left and Mark Wills', I Do (Cherish You) on the radio. And you just can't turn off that song once it starts.
Plus, I'm sure you want to hear about my first solo day as a mother of three...right?
Humor me, here.
Mom left on Monday to head home to the peace and quiet of her empty nest and little dog. I asked her how she could just leave me here with my little children, as she blew kisses and waved from her truck window. I think she may have had enough of toddlers. ;)
Therefore, Tuesday found me kissing my husband out the door to work and turning to look into the eyes of my high-strung children who did not understand why we "weren't going anywhere Mama!!" The following is a recap of the day...
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I have decided that this baby is a narcoleptic. Rachel was a little bit of a sleepy baby, Elizabeth (surprisingly) was not at all. But Caleb takes the cake. I have to wake him up to eat and show me the whites of his eyes. He protests with his little squeal, lets me know he hates to have his diaper changed, eats and then conks out again. Now, don't get me wrong - I AM NOT COMPLAINING. Especially when I have been blessed with two nights in a row of complete sleep. But as you picture this crazy household, it's important to realize that through all the hub, there is a week old baby asleep on the floor/in the pack and play/in the bouncy chair...
Elizabeth gets to hold Caleb during nap time and enjoys sitting on the couch and talking to him. Yesterday, she asked me why he sleeps so much and I told her that babies grow when they sleep so he was just growing.
"Well, he needs to wake up," she said. "Wait! I will wake him up with my trusty fingers..." She said this while making pinching motions with her fingers and putting an evil grin on her face. For the rest of the day, I had to watch her like a hawk because she would kneel over him with her pinchers, ready to pry his eyes open.
I really can't get upset with my older girls though - it's as if they are on house arrest and the really didn't do anything to deserve it. I'm hoping to venture out today to a local playground - but the swelling in my legs and feet are so atrocious that just walking around the house has me ballooning up to whale status. It's gotten significantly better with the full nights sleep and staying off of them for hours at a time, but I'm not going to be running a marathon anytime soon...or getting a pedicure, for that matter! In the meantime, we have been spending a lot of time in the backyard, as they make up games using the sticks in Scott's scrap pile and pick the leaves off my Irises for some sort of salad to feed rabbits (or so they tell me). Mainly, I stay on the deck with sleepy head and attempt to work on my paleness.
In fact, most afternoons when Rachel takes her nap, Elizabeth comes up to me asking to "do something FUN??" Normally, we get a game out or color with markers or do something that we can't really do while Rachel is up and in destructo mode. However, yesterday I had a ton of chores and laundry staring at me, so I taught my oldest how to match and fold socks.
And she loved it.
She paired them and then we practiced folding them together, which thrilled her. Caleb laid on the floor for a while and watched, and then fell asleep amid all the excitement.
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The fun part about introducing a boy and nursing into the house at the same time is that we have all kinds of opportunities for anatomy lessons. The first time I sat down to feed Caleb, Elizabeth panicked, yelling, "Mama! That baby is biting you!"
She is so smart that I can't make up fake names or processes - so we have talks on mammals and how babies eat and she is especially concerned that he doesn't have teeth.
I always have quite an audience when changing his diaper and at first, the attention was entirely on his cord - when it was going to fall off and what that would entail. Yesterday, though, Elizabeth looked southward of the cord and wanted to know, "What is that on his bottom??" I'm not sure if you remember the first time you used the correct male anatomy term to your toddler but that was mine.
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I was originally openly worried about Rachel with a new baby to compete for my attention and lap, but she has really responded well and has jumped into the role as a big sister. She wakes up from naps easier and happier and is attentive to Caleb's crying and cues. In fact, she is always telling me how "tute" he is and loves bopping him on the head, little bunny Froo-Froo style.
Poor little brother!
(And if you get that reference, you may truly be my soul mate.)
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In other news, our fridge is dying a slow, loud, painful death. Great timing, right? I don't think I told you that I went on a slight appliance shopping spree before the baby was born. Call it the most expensive nesting in the world, but we were blessed with a good tax refund and decided to treat ourselves to a new, monster sized washer. We were able to keep our old dryer, and in place of buying a new one, I decided to purchase an upright freezer. Yep, just one day decided.
Now, it wasn't like we hadn't talked about it, as I would never make a major purchase without my husband knowing. But my mom was bringing a quarter of a cow's worth of meat with her when she came and my husband (perhaps jokingly) told me that I could spend whatever amount of money I wanted in order to store meat. So I ordered a nice, pretty, upright freezer.
And yesterday, as I was carting everything out of my fast-defrosting kitchen freezer, I was ever so thankful for the extra space and the order of my nesting. Anyway, I tell you all that to get to the point that I am trying to clean out the fridge as best as I can in case it completely kicks the bucket (right after I bought an extra gallon of milk and 3 dozen eggs, mind you).
Normally, the questioning regarding dinner begins right around lunch time. No matter what I answer is met by some exacerbated sigh or gagging sound. Where do they learn that??
(Chicken?! Bleh! I hate chicken!!)
Today was no different, except for the fact that Scott bought a ton of lunch meat for lunches on Sunday and we had talked about just having soup and sandwiches for dinner in order to not let it spoil in my dying crisper.
"Mama, what's for dinner?"
"Sandwiches..."
*Cue dramatic pause...* "Awesome."
Sigh. At least I did something right today.
