We're off and running!

So, as most of you know, the Sweetie and I have always wanted a fairly big family. But after a LONG time (relative to our past experiences, anyway) of trying for #3, we've come to realize that maybe that's not what the fates have intended for us. It seems we're supposed to be a blissfully happy family of 4, instead of 5 (at least for the time being -- ya never know what the future may hold...).

So I am hereby announcing that the husband and I are embarking on a different kind of journey -- we're gonna run a half-marathon! We've been "thinking" about this for a long time, and we have lots of friends who have traveled this road before us (go Jeff!!). So we've bought a training guide, got the equipment and we're getting started! (Please note -- any of you from Cadwalader who may happen upon this post: please frequently ask Matt, "How's the training going for the run?" And keep asking him until you shame him into actually doing it. I would really appreciate it.)

And one final note: tonight at dinner Noah announced that his "butt steamed." We don't know what this means. We think he farted. Insights anyone?

"New " Bloggers, and other items of interest

Please direct your attention to the "Other Blogs of Interest." I've added two. The first is "Going Green Girl," which is my sister-in-law, Kerri. She has the done the things with her blog that I would like to do, but get too distracted to focus on -- lots of great information about gardening and environmental issues, but without the preachiness that some people have noted about my blog. I adore my sister-in-law.

And then we have the musings of Jeff Shalom, at "Three Things You Should Know." Wonderfully themed/organized blog (not that there's anything wrong with the seemingly random topic changes you'll find on my blog). Very entertaining reading, especially for the parents in the audience.

And in other news, here's an amusing anecdote from my darling niece, Kaia. I am in love with my nieces more than words can describe, and not just because they're my nieces. They have the most fabulous personalities, and they do the funniest things. Case in point: I was visiting H'ville this week, and Kerri and I took all the kids to the WNC Nature Center. I volunteered to escort Kaia to the potty for a number 2. She's 5, so she can essentially handle these things herself, but she just needs some occasional supervision. She goes into the stall and asks my to shut the door behind her. So I stand outside and wait for her. And then I hear this coming from the stall: "[Grunt. Bigger Grunt.] Oh yeah, that's it. Come on, come on. Oh yeah, oh yeah. Almost... almost... [Big Sigh.] Oooooh, nice." Little girls, and all that sugar and spice.

The TVs are all broken

Or at least this is what we've told the boys. We started this about two months ago, and we were initially very successful. In fact, on our first attempt, we went nine days without the TV on in the house at all. Impressive, huh? But then, one rainy day, we figured, "Hey, we're in the clear. The boys no longer NEED to watch TV, so we can let the boys watch one show, right?" The next day, it was two shows. And then it was a movie, then it was two movies, and voila, back to pure addiction. Then they were "broken" again for a while, and then I got sick and needed the kind of assistance that only Diego and the Backyardigans could provide. So, magically, the TV was fixed. Then, after a couple of days we broke it again. And the cycle continued. (An experience that interestingly paralleled our attempts to quit smoking.) Until last week, when I was exhausted and overwhelmed by my to-do lists to prepare for our visitors, I launched a full-fledged Nick, Jr. marathon. We (because by Thursday, Matt was a willing accomplice) continued that way through the weekend.

And now here we are on Monday morning, and the TVs are busted again (this time we got to blame it on the crazy storms that blew through last night). When the boys woke up this morning, suffice it to say that Noah was disappointed. But he's recovered and, 4 and half hours later, is contentedly playing trains.

When Luke woke up, we got his milk and he headed into the family room to assume his position on the couch. When he figured out that I wasn't going to be turning on the TV (with Noah saying, "I know Lukey, it's terrible. The TV is broken again."), he lost it. His feelings about this tragedy simply cannot be described with mere words. Blood-curdling screams come closer. A fit of pure rage is more like it. I attempted to distract him with a collaborative smoothie-making breakfast. Then we went to get haircuts. Then we went on a nature walk on the greenway, and then ran a couple of errands. But none of this really took him away from the subject of TV (the fact that the van has a dvd player, which was also "broken," didn't help). And then we had to come home. And as I type this, he is standing in front of the TV in the playroom, having gathered every remote in the house, and is desperately trying to make one of them reunite him with his beloved Diego.

Why does the TV also get broken on Monday mornings when daddy goes back to work?

It's starting! IT'S STARTING!!!

Fantastic news everyone! We've seen the light at the end of Luke's diaper-wearing tunnel!

By way of background, our experience to-date with potty-training went something like this...

We really thought it would be nice to only have one child in diapers at a time, and we naively thought it would be possible to have Noah potty-trained by the time he was 28 months old (when I was due with Luke). My mother told me, having potty-trained three boys herself, that I was dreaming. All but one of my friends with boys with boys echoed my mom. But my friend Katie is a wizard, and she had her son Trace trained within a month of his 2nd birthday, so I thought there was hope. Noah was more than happy to remind me who was boss. He steadfastly refused to even get near the toilet. We tried sitting; we tried standing. We used a stand-alone potty training seat; we tried one that sat inside a regular toilet. Nothing worked. We bribed him just to get him to try to sit on the toilet seat, but he still refused. One of my lowpoints as a mom came when I put Noah's favorite movie on the portable DVD player, and armed myself with a half gallon of juice and a gigantic bag of M & M's. I sat him on the toilet, put on the movie, and forced juice down his throat while offering him candy every time he tried to get off. I was so desperate just to get him to see the pee pee come out of his body in pathetic, misguided hopes that he would understand the cause and effect thing of bladder functioning. And hour and a half passed, and I gave up all hope that he would pee. I told him to get off the toilet and follow me into his room to put a diaper on. He peed on the carpet in the hallway on the way to his room.

At that point, I consulted the experts (among them, Mom, and the pediatrician). They all said he was clearly not ready, and not to bother at all any more. "Just wait until he turns 3, and then try again." Fine.

We spent Noah's 3rd birthday in the Dominican Republic for our friends' wedding (shout out to the Hellers). We were all in the pool on the morning of Noah's birthday, swimming, hanging out, and making frequent trips to the swim-up pool bar (widely known as one of God's best inventions). Noah was standing on the side of the pool, and started jumping up and down. It looked like he perhaps was having a seizure. Little did we know this was the pee pee dance! He didn't seem to know what was going on at first either -- he looked dreadfully bewildered. But then he turns to us and says, "I need to go pee pee in the potty." After we recovered from the shock, Matt took him to the cabana toilet by the pool, and he stood there and peed, as if he'd been doing it for months. And that was it. (Note that the second time in Noah's life that he used the "big boy potty" was later that evening. In the middle of B&N's ceremony, he stood up on his chair and announced to his father, "I need to pee pee in the potty again!" Thank God we were in the back row. That would have been an interesting commentary on the wedding video.)

Anyway, given that experience, we had prepared ourselves for another year (at least!) of changing Luke's diapers. And while I'm being careful not to jinx us, it might not be that bad... A couple of months ago, Luke started copying Noah's bathroom trips. Whenever the mood struck him (which is happening more and more frequently lately), Luke will march to the bathroom, lift up his t-shirt and lean into the toilet bowl, and stand there for a second. Then he says "all done," flushes, and insists on washing his hands (yay!). Well a few days ago, after an obvious moment of deep concentration and grunting, he patted his butt and said, "Uh oh, poop." (This happened in the middle of the Lowe's.)

And here it is -- this morning, about 15 minutes after we put on a new diaper and got him dressed, he grabbed his "winkie" area, and said, "Pee pee! Pee pee!" Then he RAN into the bathroom, lifted up his shirt and leaned into the toilet. I hurriedly removed his diaper, and sure enough, he had just PEED!! Do you realize what this means! He was aware of the fact that he'd peed, and he connected that event to the toilet! THIS IS INCREDIBLE!!! Now we just have to make the realization come BEFORE the act!

Wish us luck. This has all the potential of being one of the happiest moments of my time as a parent.

A Very Important Announcement

My fellow Americans,

I have been confronted with the reality that I spend too much time playing games on Facebook. How much time, you ask? Just check out my profile page, or any other page that informs the viewer what "Mary has been doing" recently. It seems ALL I've been doing is "beating my personal best" or "finishing another game." Do I have no life at all? No, apparently I don't.

Now, I know may surprise many of you, but I have somewhat of an addictive personality. It's possible I have been addicted to various things in the past. And when I'm blessed with a wake-up call, I know it's time to move on. For example, when you're four-year old asks, "Mom, are you playing the letter game again?", you know it's time to stop playing the letter game.

So, to my dear friends whose competition I've enjoyed so, so much in the past few weeks, please do not nudge me. And do not take it personally when I ignore all Facebook-generated attempts to get me to finish our games. I must allow our games to go unfinished. I simply can't go on like this anymore.

And to Hannah, the naive, well-intentioned friend who became aware of the depth of my obsessive personality only AFTER introducing me to the evil temptress known as "Scrambulous," please do not ever do that to me again. Or prepare to babysit my children, make my dinner, clean my house, engage in interesting conversation with my husband and perform all such other tasks I neglect while I explore a new fixation.


RIP Scramble, Scrabulous and Wordtwist. I've deeply treasured our time together, and I will miss you terribly.

What a difference a new camera makes...

As Noah will tell you, he is a big and giant boy, with super strong muscles.

On a recent hike with the boys...

Is Luke happy or sad to be getting up from his nap?

Some tips I've come up with in my short four years as a mom...

On moving -- anywhere -- with children: There will always be a better stroller out there somewhere, so don't make yourself crazy over that decision. We've now purchased 7, yes SEVEN!, strollers in our four years as parents. In chronological order: 1) the Peg Perego (clunky and squeaky and, now, broken somewhere in a landfill); 2) the Combi (bad handle); 3) the Maclaren Volo (LOVE it; the ONLY way to maneuver the streets of Park Slope, but now has a whole in the bottom); 4) the used single jogger (ugly as sin, but still functional); 5) the Maclaren Double (heavy as hell, but gets the job done and thankfully not used too much these days); 6) the Snap 'N Go for the Snugride (how did we live without this the first time around?); and 7) the Schwinn Double jogger (still the best way to get anywhere in the neighborhood). And then we were in the Babies R Us yesterday, and I saw THIS. I want to have another baby just to buy it.

On feeding babies: High chairs are stupid, and a waste of space. Buy your baby a $25 booster seat on move on with life.

On feeding toddlers: Toddlers are a finicky, fickle bunch. The logic they apply to their food choices is beyond my comprehension. So I developed some tricks to play the game on their level.

1. Peas are not "peas," because Noah doesn't like peas. Peas are "green corn."
2. Salmon is not "salmon," because who likes salmon?? Salmon is "pink chicken."
3. Soba noodles apparently don't sound appetizing to my children, so instead, they are referred to as "chocolate spaghetti."
4. "Green french fries" = green beans.
5. "Chocolate chicken" = beef.
6. Cover a waffle in "snow" (i.e., powdered sugar) and what fun-loving 3 year-old wouldn't want to eat it? (And for that matter, make it snow -- with parmesan cheese, for instance -- over anything to transform it into something more appealing.)

On toting children around on your body: The Bjorn is the original, the tried-and-true method on carrying around a newborn. I tried a sling, but I couldn't make it work for me. And then each of the boys outgrew the Bjorn at about 4 months old (or at least it became too uncomfortable to wear), so I moved on to the Playtex Hip Hugger. At $30, it's a relatively insignificant investment that bought me extra time outside with Noah while holding onto Luke, or got me through those last 10 minutes of making dinner with a 6 month old who only wanted to be held. And, like most "yippees" (that's yuppie/hippie fusion), we bought the Kelty backpack for our hiking trips. But then we realized that kids are heavy, putting them in a backpack makes them heavier, and lifting that pack onto your upper back makes all parts of your body hurt like hell after a mere 15 minutes. So, as Luke approaches his second birthday, we thought the days of carrying him around on us were long gone. That is, until Gina visited a couple of weeks ago and introduced me to my new favorite thing -- the Ergobaby. I love absolutely everything about this invention of crazy, over-the-top attachment parenters. It's perfect. It's comfortable for me and for Luke, it's lightweight, and it's easy to use. It's machine-washable! IT HAS POCKETS!! It can fit in a suitcase for vacations, and can live in the van to be ready at a moment's notice. It allowed me to spend two hours walking around the Farm (more about our wonderful CSA on another post), and last weekend we went hiking at the US Whitewater Center, all with Luke chillin' out on my back. Every parent should have one of these. (Matt wants me to find a way to earn commissions from my recommendations...).

On wanting your children to learn to talk: This is not all it's cracked up to be. Sure it's all cute to hear them pronounce new words when they're babies, and whose heart doesn't melt the first few times (or hundred times) you see those gorgeous faces light up as they exclaim "Mama!"? But somewhere along the line, something happens, and instead you start to hear things like, "Moooommmm, I wasn't talking to YOU, I was talking to my DAD, so don't say anything to me!" And then there's the incessant "Mom, why? Mom, why? Mom, why? Mom, why?" To think that with both of our late-talkers, we were so anxious to hear them speak. So naive.

On letting your children watch TV: putting on a fourth consecutive episode of Backyardigans so you can play Scramble and draft a blog post while your spouse pours over the Sunday NY Times is okay, right?