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Church and Preschoolers

A year ago, I was nine months pregnant (exactly) and attended Christmas Eve church service with a 17-month-old. I refused to go, but Daddy J insisted. It was annoying then. Everyone kept asking me if I was ok. NO! I have pelvic girdle syndrome, I’m hot, I’m huge, I’m sick of people asking me questions, and my toddler is being an asshole. Ugh.

Fast forward to A1’s Sunday School play.

The play was cute. A1 was an angel, and she did a good job. Then, we had to sit through the service.

A2 is almost one. She is a pain when it comes to sitting still. She is the poster child for the “go go go” baby. She squirms. She cries. She makes noise. She acts up if there isn’t a boob in her mouth. I can never pay attention to the service. It’s annoying and embarrassing.

I really despise going to church now. It isn’t fun. Coffee hour is the only good part. I can finally have an adult conversation—WITH ADULTS!! We stay for a short time, and then we have to leave. I feel like a contestant from Survivor who has just left the island, sunburnt and wasted from days of starvation. I lived!

It was much the same as Daddy J’s alumni concert. I don’t think I can take them to any location that isn’t Walmart, the grocery store, relatives’ houses, or anywhere that has distractions for kids.

My AIL was stupid enough to ask if we brought toys. Yes, we bring fucking toys. I’m pretty sure her behavior won’t change.

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The World According to A1: Elmo Gets A Sex Change

So, another morning begins in the A house. A2 is already awake, fed, and sitting in her Exersaucer. I venture into A1’s room and greet a groggy A1, who makes to make sure (as is custom) her blanket and litany of select stuffed animals make it out of the crib.

I change her soggy Pull-Up, and she points to her private area. “Lady parts”, she says. “Yes, those are your lady parts,” I replied. As I changed her, she picked up her stuffed Elmo.

Elmo has lady parts, too.

I laughed, perhaps a little too hard. “Mommy laughing?” She said, incredulous. I told her I was laughing with her, not at her, and that Elmo
is a boy with boys’ private parts.

She wasn’t convinced. “Elmo has lady parts, too.”

I decided to redirect her. “Abby (Cadabby) is a girl. She has lady parts.”

“Abby! Where’s Abby?”

Abby, unfortunately, is buried under some toys in our PnP. Ain’t nobody got time for that, but Elmo’s got time for lady parts.

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Gettin’ Crunchy

No, I’m not eating granola right now (although I do).

This mama is gettin’ crunchy.

My brother and I, as I may have mentioned, were born in the early 80s. Like many awesome 80s kids, we were cloth diapered. My parents lived in eastern Pennsylvania, and a diaper service came to our house. Prefolds were the only choice back then. My mother had all sorts of pins. She told me each liner came freshly deodorized and pins were even themed at times. Disposable
diapers weren’t as reliable as they were today, and my mother never used them unless they were traveling. Pampers used to leak, which is pretty shocking, considered both my babies wore them until the started to really flip around. Then, it was Huggies, and eventually for A1, the famous Pull-Ups.

Cloth diapering is making a comeback. It’s economical, better for diaper rash, greener, and fashionable. Some of these diapers are the cutest things I’ve ever seen! Now, all someone has to do is put Elmo on some trainers for A1, and we’re in business.

Gone are the days of using traditional pins. Many pocket diapers have snap or hook closures. You can even use these neat devices called Snappis. They have teeth-like grips on either side to hold the diaper in place. As the name suggests, inserts are placed inside, whereas the prefolds are already outfitted with these. The flat variety is very much alive, too.

I decided to try some. I just ordered two from Lovely Pocket Diapers. I hope that I love them as much as many other mothers have. I will definitely keep everyone posted.

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Here, Mommy! A poop!

I had a Twinfamy moment.

In John’s archives, I noticed he mentioned his son handed him a special gift whilst on the phone. I was on the couch for this one.

Those who know me IRL know that I have long days staying at home with the kids. Daddy J is usually gone from 7:30-6 or 6:30. Yesterday was no different.

We have resumed potty training A1. Yesterday had a rough start (mostly for me), but then she did it—she peed!!!! I have never been so happy about seeing urine—well, until now.

I was sitting on the couch. I forget whatever activity I was previously engaged in, but after playing near the coffee table a couple of feet away, my little girl came to see me.

“Here, Mommy! A poop.”

Oh, jeez. I couldn’t even thank her. I’m not sure I want any more poops.

“Ok, honey. We don’t touch poop.” I promptly flushed it and the two of us washed our hands.

Today, she handed me an orange ball and a pink ball. A much more pleasant gift exchange.

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Diapers suck.

I’ve been changing diapers for two and half years, perhaps not as long as some; however, when you wake up to a toddler’s pee soaked sheet and pajamas every day, you get sick of it real quick.

Let’s also mention that I change a nine month old’s diaper all day long. My other favorite task is emptying out diaper pails Fucking Disgusting!

The difference between today and yesterday is both kids peed through their clothing and A1 chose to grab her bath crayons off the dresser, scribbling all over a white sheet…that I just changed yesterday. Thanks a lot, small fry.

You may have seen from previous entries that my attempts to potty train her weren’t successful. She never stays on the toilet. She runs around bottomless and pees on the floor.

You can also factor in an infant who won’t freaking sleep train at all.

48 hours of suck.

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Bee! Bee!

Toddlers are hilarious. The things they say when they figure out the concept of stringing words together is out of this world. Yesterday, the As and I were in A2’s room for a diaper change. A1 had pulled one of her Abby Cadabby books off the shelf.

“Mom-my,” she said in her cute little voice, “Abby eats bluebebbies.” I laughed. “She does?” I said, impressed. “I had no idea.” She is still working on her ‘r’ sounds, so it comes out as ‘b’ or ‘w’.

Also, every insect (or arachnid, since there are plenty of spiders crawling around) is a bee. Flies freak her out. M has a fit every time she sees anything of the order Insecta, and now A1 is imitating her. In fact, when SIL J was pregnant with her, she had a similar fit when a bee came near her. Overreactions run deep, I guess.

Daddy J is part of the chain gang for our local high school’s football team. Parking is usually insane, and the As are too little to sit through that, so I haven’t taken them yet. I decided to send him a photo of A1. Usually, she says “Cheese!”. Not today. A stealthy house fly just had to be in the kitchen. Thank you, family Lepidoptera for gracing us with your presence.

“BEE! BEE!” My toddler screamed. Damn flies, I thought. She also thinks that pieces of “bluebebby” in her yogurt are ‘bees’ if she has just seen one. Here’s some photographic evidence:

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You best “bee” solvin’ this problem for me, Mommy!

She had eaten most of it at that point, so the last few bites were refused after bee time. Thankfully, all the flies are gone now.

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Watch Out for That Toy!

My brother and I had plenty of toys when we were kids. In fact, I enjoy going on eBay and browsing through the 80s and 90s toys that shaped my childhood. According to my mother, my grandparents would say (jokingly, of course) that it looked like a toy store. I wonder what they would say about my house.

We could open a toy store—yesterday.

I’m glad the kids have plenty of toys, and I’m grateful they’ve been giving so many as gifts. Sure, organizing them is a challenge, but at least they’re having fun. One tough part? Trying not to step on things in bare feet.

Being barefoot is a way of life for me. When I was a baby, I kicked off booties (according to my mom), and my feet were always hot. I’m 25% Sicilian, so I’ve inherited the hot, Italian feet. Thanks, Dad.

I have yet to step on Legos as an adult. I stepped on them a couple of times in the past, and the memes are pretty accurate. It is one painful experience.

A1 puts a sea of toys on the floor. It can become an obstacle course. Yesterday, it was a bedtime ABC book that poked me in the foot. Those are some razor sharp corners! She also loves to sort and build, which is great. Then she grabs our shoes, wears them, and leaves them in the middle of the kitchen. If you read my entry about breaking my arm, you know I’m afraid of trip hazards, perhaps more so than the next mom (or so it seems).

I carry A2 and make an effort to avoid the toy maze on the ground. It’s hard work, but I enjoy playing with the toys when I’m at ground level.

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To my 50 Special Followers!

Wow. I’ve had a rough week, and between the latest episode of Daniel Tiger and seeing “You have 50 follows” on this blog, I’ve been teary-eyed. Thank you so much for being here. I love my life, but I do get lonely sometimes. I also have to thank my neighbors, K and M for their support this week and anytime at all. I love you guys!

Cheers to you, my friends!! Be blessed.

~Mama J

“Do something nice for your neighbor; do something nice for your friends.”–Daniel Tiger, episode 131, “Neighbor Day.”

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Motorin’

You were probably thinking about this…

You’re close.

A2 sure can’t drive, but she definitely makes up for that on four limbs. For the first time in my parenthood, I’ve had a child under a year old follow me to the next room. In fact, she is approaching the phone as I type this to steal it.

She’s been stopped midway by a teether. Score! 🙂

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Can I be on your blog too, mama?

When I enter the kitchen or the hall, I am followed by a series of cute giggles and squeals. I turn around, and there she is!

I love this age!