A Letter To Future Warren and Amanda

Dear Future Warren and Amanda,

When the day comes that you begin to romanticize the newborn phase, glossing it over in your minds as you look back on photos, envying the moms with little bundles in their strollers and thinking to yourself 'I sure hope she is cherishing every moment', please try to remember how much it sucked most of the time.

Best,

Past Amanda

And The Day Went To Shit.

Today was a total roller coaster of successes and failures. Here is a bit of a recap...

1) I rocked this morning.... Had a playdate planned way up north (Rocky Ridge) and was actually out of the house (with both kids!) by 8:40am, and arrived only 15 minutes late at 9:15am. Rhys was well behaved, and Kyle even had a wee bit of a snooze. Success!

2) My attempts to keep Rhys awake in the car were futile (Rhys look! A Choo Choo!) and he fell asleep, meaning the odds of a nap were slim. I thought my luck had turned when he willingly got into his crib. That lasted about ten minutes. He then called out for 'mommy and daddy' for the next hour, and was in a trouble making mood for the rest of the afternoon. Fail!

3) Nana and Grandan show up to lend a quick hand. ( load the dish washer, distract Rhys while I nursed, etc) Success!

4) Rhys needed a diaper change and fought me on it. Turns out his bum was flaming red and sore. So he had an early bath to sooth his poor bum. After the bath he really didn't wanna diaper on, so I figured some air could do him good, and let him be naked in his giraffe towel. Then I had an idea - I'll try him in his big boy underwear! So he put them on and looked SO cute. Then Kyle fell asleep in the baby bjorn and Rhys and I played and I made him dinner and he ate TONS. MAJOR SUCCESS!

4) Then Kyle woke up and needed to nurse. While I was nursing, Rhys was laying on the floor quietly watching TV. Suddenly he leaped to his feet, with the fear of God in his eyes. There were dribbles coming from between his legs. 'Rhysie! Quick! To the the Potty! You're peeing!' So with a baby on my breast I grabbed my toddler and ran to the bathroom. More dribbles were coming now. 'Rhys! Sit in on the Potty! SIT'! He refused and looked terrified. This was out of character because he pees on the potty all the time, 'Rhys - you don't even have to take off your underwear.... Just SIT!!!!' then I noticed the dribbles were brown. Then there were blobs of brown. He was shaking his head and whimpering. I realized I needed to keep my cool, or risk scarring him for life. 'Rhysie. It's okay. You're pooping. If you sit on the potty you can have a big sticker!' He still refused. So I pulled Kyle off my breast ( yes, I was still nursing during this!) and put him in his crib. He of course started wailing, but I had to leave him. I ran back to Rhys who was still 'hovering' over the potty. I pulled off his under wear, which was filled with chunky-yet-runny diareah like poo. Once they were off he sat down, but the damage was done. There I was. Holding a diarrhea filled under wear in one hand, and wiping down my toddlers legs with the other. I was gagging at the smell, but tried to hide it from Rhys. All I could think to say was 'good boy Rhys! Now you get a big sticker!. He smiled. So left his disgusting undies in the sink (the bath hadn't been drained yet)' and left the potty and toilet full of soiled TP, Finished cleaning him up and gave him his bowl of stickers while I sat on on the floor and nursed Kyle in the hallway. I then texted Warren asking when he'd be home. FAIL.

Warren came home from a crummy work day, and was greeted by a screaming, inconsolable gassy infant, a toddler who was not in bed, a bathroom full of poo, and a wife who was on the verge crying and throwing in the shat-filled towel.

I love you, hon.

"What's Wrong With This Photo?" Photo.

High Five to the person who can find what's a little odd about this picture.

He's Still Got It.

(My apologies for the slow down in blogging...our Internet wasn't working for a day or two...which was paaaaaainful).

A Conversation With Warren

Warren had just arrived back to the condo, after an evening stroll to the grocery store.

Warren: Soooo...on my way to the store, a group of girls driving by hollered at me. (A hint of pride in his voice).

Amanda: Really? Like...a Cat Call?

Warren: Yup. (An undertone of cockiness in his voice).

Amanda: Okay... so what did they say?

Warren: "I bet you have a tiny dink".

Amanda: (nearly spits out her water, and starts choking on it through her laughter). Uh...huh. (snort) And (cough, choke) you're PROUD (snort, snort, cough) of this? (tears are flowing now).

Warren: Hey. I'm forty, I live with a toddler, and I'm walking to Von's to pick up baby shampoo and juice boxes. I'll take what I can get.

Toddlers and Tiaras, Here We Come.

Rhys found Warren's 'Napoleon Dynamite' wig in a drawer. Nuff said.

SHEESH!

Yesterday, I was totally razzed in the comments. My girlfriends were mocking my sideways video. I am, after all, a 'TV Expert', doncha-know. I know all about TV production and aspect ratios and render codecs and yada, yada, yada. So how could I do something so 'amateur' as turn my video camera sideways?

Well. Now I'm on the defensive thank-you-very-much.

Clearly, my girlfriends missed one key detail - that the video was shot using an iPod. Which naturally has a vertical screen. I didn't turn a 'video camera' sideways, I merely shot using the devices' natural handheld position. And, I admit, in the back of my mind I thought to myself 'Geez, I wonder how this will work?". But then I thought to myself "It's a MAC product! They totally know what they're doing! By even allowing me to record this way, there must be an easy work around! It's a MAC!"

Never ASSUME, because then you make and ASS out of U and ME.

But my girlfriends didn't stop there. They started to suggest things that OF COURSE I had thought of and tried. Which, for a brief moment, was insulting. BUT, this also made me go back and look at what I had tried, and I found a better way. I also regained my trust in Mac products. This was truly a 'human' error.

I still get You Tube errors, but I did successfully rotate the video :-)

So, Dear Grilfriends, I Thank-You.

My readers thank-you too. Behold...a rotated video!

Rhys Blows A Whistle:

Also, here is yesterdays' video, rotated, for good measure...

Rhys Daddy Shoes:

And lastly, for the Grandparents (because it's like - 4.5 minutes long)...

Rhys in the bath at 18.5 months (yesterday):

Downside of Daycare

A downside of daycare?

Sometimes your rough n' tumble little boy comes home wearing a mysterious lime green onsie, with frilly sleeves and a lace butterfly on the chest.

Another 'Parenting Right of Passage'

This story begins with a boy who hadn’t had a dirty diaper all day.

And ends with that boy’s mother yelling down the hall to her husband during bathtime...”Come quick! We’ve got FLOATERS!”.

We'll let your imagination fill in the middle bits.

Insightful

Yesterday Kirsty and I were talking a lot about parenthood and how awesome it is, and yet how at the same time is full of challenging moments and moments that downright suck. But we love it! And then I read Backpacking Dad's post 'Do Parents Hate Parenting?'.

Worth the read, especially if you're home, bored, nursing sick kids or recovering from ear surgery and need something to read to pass the time...

I wish I could write insightful posts like Backpacking Dad. Rhys' poop is really sticky these days! Oh, wait...that's not insightful at all. *SIGH*.

Parenting 'Right Of Passage', Perhaps?

Yesterday Rhys was not himself. He had a terrible night's sleep and was grumpy all day. Runny nose, bum rash and general malaise with an ample amount of whining. Let me tell you, nothing makes me appreciate his easy going self than when it's gone. I could see his 2 top front teeth pushing their way through the gums, so we figure he was teething. Some baby Tylenol helped him have a 2.5 hour nap in the afternoon, which was glorious. The cherry flavoured medicine used to go down easily, but this time he winced and scrunched his nose at the taste, but he took the full dose.

Now, jump ahead to bedtime, when Gramma Patsy was over and Warren & I were getting all dolled up for a fancy romantic dinner at 'Rush' restaurant downtown to properly celebrate our anniversary. I was in my bathrobe, had just finished bathing Rhys, and had him all snuggled in his jimjams. Time to give him a nighttime dose of the cherry flavoured medicine that we hoped would help him sleep better and get the rest he needed. He winced and scrunched and turned his head and even gagged a little at the taste. But I persisted. Then, IT happened. Projectile Vomit. All over my baby. All over my bath robe. All over Gramma Patsy's arm. All over the carpet. Splatter on the bedding. Later, when I picked up the medicine bottle, it was also dripping vomit. My poor little man. I felt so responsible, because I was forcing him to swallow something he didn't like. It was clearly a gag-reflex reaction. Warren came to our rescue to help clean up the mess, and I was just thankful he wasn't there to witness it happen. He would have freaked out and insisted we go to Emergency at the hospital. It was exorcist-like.

So, son's projectile vomit all over the place while getting ready to go out. I think this means I have 'earned' my first parenting badge. Kind of like they do in Beavers and Brownies. I can sew that onto my Mama Sash and wear it proudly.

I'm VERY pleased to announced that, even though he needed more care & love from Gramma Patsy than usual while we were out, he woke up in a delightful mood this morning, runny nose gone, bum rash gone, and those little white 'Satan's Kernels' poking through a bit more. Maybe he'll have some adorable buck teeth in time for his birthday. Perfect for chomping down on birthday cake.

In the end, we were able to dress ourselves and have a delicious meal, just the two of us.

Party Planning

Last night my mom came over to see her sweet little grandson, and offered to stay past his bedtime so Warren & I could go have dinner and use up a gift certificate Warren got for his birthday (Lounge Burger - yum!). One of the things we chatted about over dinner was Rhys' upcoming 1st birthday party.

Amanda: I really want to do a Hawaii'n theme, like a Luau.

Warren: Okay.

Amanda: We'll need tropical music of some sort, and some Tiki type decor for the backyard.

Warren: I know! How about we serve ginger ale in little dixie cups in case anyone gets sea sick, and we can play whale sounds while your mom dry-heaves in the corner?

Smart Ass.

Maybe the doctors were wrong...

...and 10 months ago I gave birth to a baby girl?

Widescreen link HERE.

Rehab.

In case you think I was exaggerating the soothie addiction...

Widescreen link HERE.

Step AWAY from my food.

I've started working on Rhys' 1st Year Video, and am LOVING it. I think I love it because a) it's bringing back a gazillion memories and b) editing reminds me of my past life, and c) it gives me something else to do besides housework when Rhys is in bed.

I found this gem while scrolling though. The video itself isn't what made me laugh, but instead the conversation going on behind the camera.

If you want the full screen version, click HERE.

Conversation Exasperation

Warren will sometimes do his own laundry, and when he does it is out of pure desperation. I've been sick for a week, so...he was desperate. He got 2/3 through the process. He washed & dried. He folded. But at the all important 'put clothes away' stage, he abandoned ship. Here is a word for word recount of a conversation (argument?) we had this evening...

Amanda: (Trying not to sound like a nag by giving an ample timeline) Hon, can you please put your laundry away before going to the gym tonight?

Warren: Ummmm.....no.

Amanda: I think YES is the correct answer to my question (she then picks up the laundry basket which houses his clean, folded laundry and plunks it on the bed beside him, where he's lounging).

Warren: What's in it for me if I do it?

Amanda: If you DON'T do it, I will dump out all your clean clothes onto the floor and mix them back in with the dirty laundry.

Warren: If you do that, I will just leave it there for weeks and weeks and drive you crazy.

Amanda: Okay, then I will throw your clothes in the garbage.

Warren: The garbage is full.

Amanda: OKAY, then I will dump out the garbage onto your side of the bed, and THEN I will throw your laundry in the garbage.

Warren: Then I'll sleep downstairs and you will have to sleep next to garbage.

Do you people SEE what I have to live with over here?!