Babies are a changin'

They are growing like weeds! I am glad that they are growing. It means that I am actually doing something right! It gives me great pride, that in some sick and twisted way, I am able to produce food for my offspring, and then in turn they poop and grow and poop some more. As sick as it sounds, and as sick as it is, when changing my Sweet Bean's diaper, I am looking at food that I ate.

We move along through life's daily trials, standing in conflict most days. We are elated that the Prince is enjoying a Newman O cookie, and so excited with his smiles that we don't care if his clothes are dirty. Honest! The conflict arises when we discover gooey bits of cookie smashed into the screen door, because he was beating the screen with excitement at seeing his Poppa grilling outside. It is so cute, yet it is so messy. Do we scream, "NO stop it you are ruining our house!" when are hearts are bursting with joy at his excitement seeing his father?


The same thing happens when my Sweet Bean is smiling and laughing at me. As her mother, my heart again is bursting as I fall in love with her sweet smile and even though many authorities say that it is just gas, I have my fingers crossed hoping that she knows me and is happy to look at my face.
Again I am caught in the joy that I feel when she lets out a huge sailor belch, but annoyed and disgusted when she plants a huge bird poop stain of baby barf on my shoulder. She has become quite an expert at dodging the burp cloth and is able to shoot the barf just at the edge of the burp cloth with extreme precision. I am changing my clothes more than her!

I continue to make enemies all around my city with my public breastfeeding. When trying to explain this to people, I think people shudder at the idea it brings to your mind of a full shot of a naked breast in public. Not the case. The biggest tip off is the screaming child, and the mother wrestling with nursing bras, nursing shirts or non nursing shirts and then the gurgling of the baby settling down and swallowing all of this milk. Once she is in place, many people don't even realize my covert operation since I am draped, modestly, with a blanket and maybe checking on her from time to time. It isn't any more or less obvious than someone fighting with a bag of plastic utensils that they can't get open in order to dig into their meal, but I have heard all of the arguments on the other side of the fence so I do try to be sympathetic to those who are offended or annoyed. Is it more annoying to hear a screaming baby or to witness breastfeeding?

We are also making enemies in the medical community by challenging the vaccine schedule that most parents and doctors follow. I am annoyed by the doctor who treats us like 12 year olds when we are looking for the best way to raise and take care of our children. We make enough money to afford the children that we have, and we have brains enough to look at alternative medicine for ourselves and our children. I want to bring a squirt gun to the doctor's office next time, and when we get in this debate just whip out my fluorescent green and orange water bazooka and just drench the guy as we are packing up the kids and running out of his office to the safety of our house. If we just never leave our house, then we wouldn't get germs or have to be bombarded with everyone telling us how to raise our children. "Lay them on their backs, or they might DIE! Give them the chickenpox vaccine or they might DIE! Stop breastfeeding them when they are 1 year old because you no longer can support them nutritionally and they might DIE!" I'm ready to move to Greenland! Halcyon take me away!

We ARE Crazy!

As if my first year of marriage + one baby wasn't a big enough sign as to how time flies when you are having babies, this almost second year of marriage + baby number two is now a lesson in your life at warp speed. My last post was a couple of months ago, but it has been quite difficult to blog when I have so many other things such as push out another baby.

Our Princess was born April 4th, and according to her mother she was right on time. We had some complications with the birth, and she had us all very scared for a couple of days. My idyllic birth story will have to wait for another baby, or will never be since I didn't follow some of my main objectives during the labor and delivery. She is here, and I am wearing my old jeans so I should be thankful for that!

Our nights and days have been hit or miss. She can be a perfect angel, but turn into a furious cat screeching and clawing away at me or anything else in her path. These photos are a week old, but I like to call this Dr. Jekyll vs. Miss Hyde:





The Prince has taken to his sister in fabulous ways, but there have been some tantrums for Momma's attention. We have been back on our "schedule" which I love and hate in the same breathe. Our lives are much more peaceful when we have uninterrupted naps, the foods that we like for our meals, and we stay at our house to play with our toys. The yard is our new favorite spot, and Husband is planning to purchase a slide tonight as an added attraction.

He is at such a fun age right now and on the brink of some words other than "Ma-ma-ma-ma...." and "Da-da-da-da-dahhhh!" I was very close to hearing a "ball" this morning while playing with the baby soccer ball (a gift from the Eastern Kingdom) and so I immediately started chanting "ball! ball! Can you say ball?" He was very excited that I was trying to say the same thing that he was saying, but then slipped on the duck blanket and smashed his fore head on the floor. It was tragic, but the other bumps were almost all healed so we needed a fresh one. He is such a charmer! We have such fun together! (Here at a wedding, just had a diaper changed, and this one happened to be really funny!)

We have been trying our hands at gardening with some success and other trials. Our tulip crop is quite pretty this year, and Husband planted some pots as well as a cutting garden in the back yard (another gift from the Eastern Kingdom).




So husband has had a rough month. A crazy wife, a baby in the hospital, trying to get the yard under control, and working can drive a man insane! He was trying to prove something to me, but I figured that he still had to much time on his hands if he had time to play with his beard. It is really all about the beard. To have a beard or not to have a beard, that is always the question. If he has the beard he is pulling it out, making bald patches under his chin. If he doesn't have the beard, he feels that people don't take him seriously because he looks "too young" so then it is necessary to grow the beard out. So on Monday, he didn't have enough things to do. He was bored as I was juggling babies and bead stringing, cooking, cleaning and trying not to stink myself! He wanted to play with his beard. I was not amused when he came out of hiding, giggling and talking in his best Southern accent..."Can I help ya, Mam? Come give me a big kiss. Ya know you want a big kiss."



Actually, "Get away from me you sex offender! You are going to scare the children! Shave that thing off!!" He said, "Oh I can't do that, Mam." I said, "OK, we need food for dinner. Get in the car and go and get the food on the list...." He shaved the rest off. He is a good man. To redeem himself, here is the last snippet from our world: Husband doing baby duty with the Princess. Brutus didn't want to be left out, so he had some snuggle time with Husband too.