Dear Camden

Dear Camden,

Right now there are so many things about you that I don't want to forget.  Most days, I want to press the pause button and just keep you three and a half years old forever.

Why?

Because every day you say, "I like you, Mommy," "I love you, Mommy," and "you are the best Mommy."

Because if given the chance, you take your undies all the way off when using the bathroom and cannot put them back on the correct way.  They always go on backwards.

Because you have a fascination with planets and space and you can name all the planets, in order, without help.

Because you love Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles even though you have never seen the show or movie.

Because if you do something that requires an apology, you immediately follow up the apology with "I forgive you."

Because there is no shortage of snuggles, hugs, and kisses.

I love you more than you will ever know, and feel so lucky and proud to be your mommy.

Take Luck,

LP

Ryan Went to Mexico...

... And left me at home with two sick babies.

At first the three of us just had colds - some congestion, runny noses, and little coughs.  I said to him that I hoped things didn't "implode" as soon as he left and I was sort of kidding.

Turned out that's exactly what happened.

Ryan left on Wednesday morning for a 5-day Cancun vacation to attend his best friend's destination wedding.  Thursday morning, Cam woke up with an irritated right eye (red, swollen, no goop) and was a little "off" but was otherwise his normal self.

I had planned on taking both kids to daycare like normal, and then coming back at 10:00 to pick Zoey up for her 6 month well check.  My plan was to also take the rest of the day off to just hang with her since we don't get a lot of one-on-one time together.

My plan quickly backfired when Cam took one step into daycare and Ms. Tiffany said, "what's wrong with his eye?"  I said I wasn't sure, but that it was goop-free and he wasn't itching it so I was hoping it was just a side effect from the cold.  She apologized and said she just wasn't comfortable having him stay in case it was pink eye.  I totally understood, accepted that my plan was foiled, and we went back home.

It was a good thing we did.

It only took about 30 minutes for Zoey to go down for her first nap and someone else to snuggled up with me and fall asleep.

He woke up after snoozing for two hours (what?!) and he was clearly feeling crummy.  His temperature was 101.7.  I gave him some Advil and was happy that we were going to be heading to the pediatrician's office and hoped that she would be willing to take a quick look at him before or after she was done with Zo Zo.

This was my boy on the way to the doctor's office.

While he was laying comatose on the exam room bench - the doctor checked his ears and they were clear, and looked at his eye and felt like the irritation and the fever was just a virus.  I felt relief and by the time Zoey's appointment was done, the Advil seemed to have kicked in and he was sitting up-right and talking to the doctor about the bouncy house.

I was shocked (but happy) when he took another two and half hour nap at his normal nap time.  He woke up in a decent mood and because his eyes were still free of goop - we had planned on going over to my parents' house for dinner.

Some time passed and his temperature was back up to 102.1 and Zoey had a little 100 degree temperature too.  I felt confident that Zo's temperature was related to her vaccinations so I gave her some baby Tylenol.  I called my mom saying both kids had fevers and asked if they would bring dinner to us.

I gave Cammy more Advil and decided a lukewarm bath could do them both some good.  My parents arrived right as I was getting Cam out of the tub and they could tell his coloring was off and he wasn't feeling well.  The Advil was not working it's magic like it had earlier in the day.  The poor guy was (literally) shivering cold but burning up.  I text Tiff to see what she would do if Huck had a fever like Cam's that wasn't responding to medicine and she said she would absolutely call the pediatrician's office and see what they said.  I knew she was right and called.  I got the nurses line and left a message.

A little more time passed, Camden's fever was up to 136.4 and I called the on-call doctor's line.Thank goodness our pediatrician was still in the office (it was after 6pm) and I could tell her Cammy's downward spiral since seeing him earlier in the morning.  She suggested giving him some Tylenol to help combat the fever even though he had already been given Advil.

I gave him one little push of Tylenol and he started to cry saying "I don't wike it!" but I pressed forward and was then shown just how much he didn't like it.  He vomited all over the place.  I swear my blood pressure spiked just like his fever.  I immediately called the doctor back to tell her what just happened and she asked if he was urinating.  I can't believe I didn't see that as a red flag before the question, but I realized no, he had not gone pee since he woke up from his nap at 2:30 - even though he had been drinking a little water.

She calmly said, "you need to take him to the emergency room."

My heart sank, my blood pressure rose, and I started to cry but managed to make out an "OK, thank you."

I quickly nursed Zoey to sleep and laid her down, changed my clothes, grabbed the iPad, and dad and I put the little guy in the car and we headed to the emergency room.  Mom stayed back with Zoey.  I cannot even say how thankful I am that they had come to us for dinner and were able to help like they did. 

We had to wait quite a while to get back to a room, but Cam was just content to sit in my lap and snuggle while he continued to burn up.  I thought it was hot in the waiting room and it turns out he was making me hot.

After we got back into the room (around 8:00 and well past his bedtime) he laid down on the bed and was happy to watch a video on the iPad while we waited.  I was so thankful how quickly he was seen by a doctor, one who did a super thorough check and asked a lot of questions.  He quickly eliminated an ear infection and appendicitis, asked for a chest x-ray, and felt it best to get him some IV fluids, anti-nausea medicine, and more Advil. 

Poor guy was still burning up but cold so the nurse gave him a warm blanket.  Before the x-ray, the nurse put some numbing cream and "stickers" (to keep the numbing cream in place) on his arms in preparation for the IV.  The x-ray was easy and Cam perked up getting to see his "skeleton."

Holding him down and hearing him cry and scream like I've never heard before while he was getting his line in for the IV was god-awful.  I was trying to distract him and sing songs and it was all I could do to keep my voice steady.

Thankfully the nurses (yes, plural) got the line in no problem.  I said to go ahead and do the influenza test (shoving a little stick thing really far up both nostrils) while he was already pissed off.  And boy, did that piss him off.  Thankfully he was content to snuggle with me and hold onto my chapstick.  I can't even describe how calming the chapstick was to him.  It was funny and cute and sad all at the same time.  The poor kid was just absolutely miserable.

The fluids ran for 30 minutes with some anti-nausea medicine thrown in too.  The doctor came back in and said the influenza test was negative, as were all other tests/cultures they ran on his blood for infection.  We gave him a dose of Advil that he kept down and another dose of Tylenol that he did not.  His temperature was still 103.6 but they felt like with the Motrin and fluids - he was OK to go home.  It was 10:15 at this point and I wasn't going to argue.

He fell asleep in the car on the way home and I put him in our bed.  I figured there was no way in hell I would be able to sleep soundly if he was in his room.  Even though I knew I wouldn't sleep well with him in bed with me - at least I would be able to reach over and feel his temperature throughout the night or be right there if he needed something.

He slept OK overnight and his temperature went down but didn't sleep as long as you would have thought since he went to bed so late.

Ryan still has three days left in his trip, but I sure hope the worst is behind us.  He got to talk to Cam on the phone last night while we were in the emergency room and he said hearing his miserable little voice made him (Ryan) cry because he felt so sorry for him and hated that he wasn't there.  I assured him he was sick but going to be OK and we did the right thing in bringing him to the hospital.

Today he's overall been in much brighter spirits, played with his toys a little bit, and is asking for fruit snacks.  His fever has been up and down but I'm giving him Advil to try and help.  Thankfully, he took a decent nap today and seems OK for now.

Fingers crossed the worst is over.

Take Luck,

LP

Potty Training {Day Four}

Warning: This post is allllll about potty training.  Stop reading if you don't want to hear about my kid's bodily functions.  I'm writing this mainly so I can document progress and have something to look back on when we go down the potty training road with Zoey.

I know, I know.  I said that yesterday's recap would be my last.  But you guys - he's got it.

I was up with Zoey at 5:00 to nurse and had a hard time getting her to fall back asleep.  I had set my alarm for 6:00 so I could be awake before my little potty trainer.  Well, thank you Zoey, because the little man was awake at 6:00 on the dot, sitting at his door in a heavily wetted pull up chanting "Mommaaay!  Mommaaaaaaay!"

I retrieved him from his chambers and escorted him to the potty, but nothing.  I wasn't expecting anything but wanted to try so he knows that's what you do right after you wake up.

Two hours went by without any - no successes and no accidents and I was getting worried that he starting to rebel or something.  He finally went and I breathed a huge sigh of relief that maybe he was in fact "getting it."  He even pooped on the potty again!  Ryan has taught him to "shake off" the last of the pee once he's done and I'm not even kidding he sings "shake it off" to the tune of his favorite lady singer, Taylor Swift.

Ryan buzzed his head again and it was less traumatizing for me this time, thank God.  Afterwards I gave him a bath (where he promptly peed in the drain, and I counted that as a success!) and after that he insisted on running around the house in his "shark cape."

He went down for his nap (in a pull up) no problem and knocked my socks off when he woke up and it was dry.  Not only that but when I took him down to potty right after he woke up - he peed!  The dry pull up could have totally been a fluke, but whatever - I celebrated him and the accomplishment.

A couple times today, after successes, I even heard himself say "Keep 'em dry, bud" (talking about his undies) - so he is actually listening after all.

Did I mention during any of this that following the 3 Day Potty Training method means not leaving your home for three days?  You can imagine how stir crazy we were all getting having this little tornado child cooped up for four days.

My parents just got a new kitten so I thought it would be a good test to go over there and see how he did in a 15 minute car ride there, a visit, and the ride home. 

I was a little nervous when he said he had to go potty twice before we even left our neighborhood.

We got to my parent's house without any incidents or accidents and once inside he kept a death grip on the sweet, innocent kitten... That he kept calling "Nicey."  Her name is Macy.  Poor Macy couldn't decide if she wanted to play with him or hide from him.  Cam loves going over to his Grammy and Papa's and was quite rambunctious while we were visiting and I know it was because he was so excited to be out of the house.

My mom got Zoey out of her carseat and almost immediately said, "I think she pooped."  Not only did she poop, but she blew out her diaper and had poo all over her pants and onesie.  Mother of the year over packed two extra undies and a pair of shorts for Camden but not a darn thing for the spit up and I'm-going-to-poop-in-my-carseat-so-it-goes-up-and-errrywhere queen.  My mom was able to salvage the onesie by way of baby wipes and a lot of baby powder.

After whacking his head on the door frame of their bathroom, a success pee on the potty, and bonking his head on the coffee table - I decided it was time to call it a win and get back home.

We got home and had dinner - the usual.  He had two more successes on the potty after we got home from Mom and Dad's.  His last prize blew his little mind - a glow stick.

He was pretty excited about it.

Dare I say "he's done it!"?  I don't know, but shoot - today he continually told us he had to go potty, had many successes, and no accidents.  Part of me wants to see how tomorrow goes with him being back at daycare before completely shouting it from the rooftops, but the other part of me wants to say "hell frigging yeah, he's (daytime) potty trained!!!!!!!!!!!!"

End of Day Four tally:

#1 Successes: 8

#1 Accidents: 0

#2 Successes: 1

#2 Accidents: 0

 

{Potty Training Day One}

{Potty Training Day Two}

{Potty Training Day Three}

If you're lucky (or is it unlucky?), I'll keep you posted on progress.  Let's just hope our daycare ladies follow our strategy and directions and that he doesn't completely undo all the progress we've made in the last four days.

Take Luck,

LP

Potty Training {Day Three}

Warning: This post is allllll about potty training.  Stop reading if you don't want to hear about my kid's bodily functions.  I'm writing this mainly so I can document progress and have something to look back on when we go down the potty training road with Zoey.

 

Today was not so great.  It wasn't bad, but it sure wasn't as good as yesterday - even from the get go.

I'm always awake before Cam and I assumed last night would be no different.  But aside from many trips to give Zoey her pacifier, she slept great last night - and I slept in a lot later than normal.  I was woken up at 6:30 by hearing Camden crying from his room and immediately felt a sense of dread/fear.  I went into his room and got him to the toilet to see he had a crazy full pull up, complete with poo.

Just the way we wanted to start our day.

I assured him that it wasn't his fault and that it was "mommy's fault."  I felt awful that I wasn't awake and prepared for him to wake up.  There's no way for me to know if that would have made a difference - but I'm really confident that it would have.

The morning got better after that.  Cam had a couple successes (and no accidents) while we watched the Seahawks game.  We could tell he was getting super restless and stir-crazy from being inside for the past two days, so I put some pants on him, took him outside for a little bike ride around the drive way "race track" and to play some soccer on the back deck.  In between "I gotta go potty's" of course!

Ryan put him down for his nap so I could go buy a used (and amazing) glider for Zoey's room and it sounds like Cam insisted on wearing a pair of his fleece footy pajamas because "I feel safe" wearing them.  Whatever, buddy.

Potty training must wear a guy out because he slept for three and a half hours and we had to wake him up from his dead-to-the-world-slumber.  No surprise that his pull up was pretty dang wet when he finally got up.

A ba-zillion more "Tell Mommy when you have to go potty's!" and "Keep 'em dry, buddy's!" later and he had a couple more successes and a couple accidents in the evening.  The accidents were really discouraging to me because he had done so well on Day Two and in the morning (aside from his early morning accident).  But I realize that this is still very new to him and overall, he's doing really well.  He had the first accident while watching the iPad - I told Ryan I didn't want him watching it while potty training because he starts watching Donald Duck (or the dreaded Surprise Egg videos) on YouTube and gets totally sucked in.  I'm not really sure why the second accident happened.  I was sitting right there playing trains with him and then all of a sudden I noticed he was peeing.

Anyway, it wasn't the greatest day - and certainly not how I thought our Day Three would go based on the success of yesterday.  Ryan and I are both off of work tomorrow for Columbus Day, so we'll take advantage of one more day of training before heading back to work and daycare on Tuesday.

End of Day Three tally:

#1 Successes: 5

#1 Accidents: 2

#2 Successes: 0

#2 Accidents: 1

Thankfully there were more successes than accidents, right?

{Potty Training Day One}

{Potty Training Day Two}

I'll spare you any updates after today and resume talking about other super important things in our life.  Ha.

Take Luck,

LP

Potty Training {Day Two}

Warning: This post is allllll about potty training.  Stop reading if you don't want to hear about my kid's bodily functions.  I'm writing this mainly so I can document progress and have something to look back on when we go down the potty training road with Zoey.

Today was great.

Cam woke up with a pretty wet pull up so I was glad we went that route.  No telling how many times I would have been up and down to help him and/or change his sheets - and let's be honest... I'm already up enough times with Zo Zo.

Part of my strategy has been to keep Cam as engaged and entertained as possible so it's easy for him to recognize that he needs to go to potty, tell us, stop what he's doing, and go.

On a side (and personal) note... This sounds awful but I have really loved how this process has forced me to be incredibly attentive to him.  It's not that I don't pay attention to him - because I absolutely do, but a lot of times I'm paying attention to him and interacting with him while trying to do some thing else (or sometimes multiple things).  The past two days have refreshing (and exhausting) and among other things - shown me that I can stand to put some of these other things aside and focus more of my undivided attention on these babies.

I saw a pin on Pinterest about putting paper and paint inside a Ziploc bag, taping it with masking tape to a table, and letting the child finger paint mess free!  I decided to give it a try today and he was interested in each bag for about two minutes.  But hey, that was four minutes of his day that he wasn't asking me to watch the iPad. 

The big highlight of the morning was when I was talking to my mom on the phone (half listening to her, half watching Cam like a hawk) and he said he had to go potty!  He's been amazing at telling us, but some times he sits down on the potty and almost immediately says "I'm all done" even though he didn't do anything.  I don't mind because although it's exhausting, I would much rather he was trying that having accidents.  Anyway, while talking to my mom I set him up on the toilet and a few seconds later I hear one big plop, followed by one little plop.

He frigging pooped on the potty and I was squealing with delight and pride!  He immediately peed and said he was "all done," so he got three M&Ms, a sticker of his choice on his chart, and a surprise egg.  A few minutes after his reward I realized he wasn't quite done peeing yet and had had a little, tiny accident, but again - he pooped on the potty and that was our focus.  That little accident went on to be his only accident of the day! 

Here's an example of the small toys/prizes that I've been putting in his reward surprise eggs - little Minion figurines from The Minion Movie.

After he woke up from his nap (with only a mildly wet pull up), we broke out his matchbox cars and we lined them up so they could go "shopping."

And then after we practiced counting his cars and sorting them by colors, Cam was happy to (pretend) demolish/destruct the cars with this monster truck. 

At bedtime he was really resisting wearing the pull up and just wanted to wear his undies, but again tonight I feel like it's in all of our best interests to wear the pull ups just for a little bit.  I'll re-evaluate if he continues to do well and resist.  He's a hard little sleeper and I just cannot see him waking up in the middle of the night to pee.

Today I probably said the phrases "Tell Mommy when you have to go potty!" "Are you dry?!" and "You're such a big boy!" about 300 times.  Each.  I mean - I'm annoying myself at this point but I really think it's helping him be successful.  So, I'll continue to annoy myself (and him, no doubt) for another day or two.  Tomorrow will be Day Three and I am so excited and proud of him.  It really seems like it's "clicking" for him and I hope tomorrow is another successful day.

End of Day Two tally:

#1 Successes: 9

#1 Accidents: 1

#2 Successes: 1

#2 Accidents: 0

I know, I know.  You can't wait for Day Three either.

{Potty Training Day One}

Take Luck,

LP

Potty Training {Day One}

Warning: This post is allllll about potty training.  Stop reading if you don't want to hear about my kid's bodily functions.  I'm writing this mainly so I can document progress and have something to look back on when we go down the potty training road with Zoey.

 

I decided to take advantage of a long weekend and dive head first into potty training Camden. I've been reading a lot about it and asking moms that have walked this road before me. Almost all said that with boys, it's best to let them lead and to not push it before they are ready.  

I felt like for the past several weeks, Cam has been showing signs of being ready, other than outwardly saying "I don't want to wear a diaper anymore."   He's been saying "don't change my diaper" after pooping, and immediately peeing in the drain of the bathtub on bath nights. Just this past Monday, he went pee on the potty for the first time. 

 

To me, he seemed ready. As ready as he is going to be, anyway. 

 

I bought and read the 3-Day Potty Training e-book and set off for Graceland, I mean, Target, for my supplies. 

 

I bought Thomas, Minion, and Superhero undies, stickers, m&m's, matchbox cars, light-up bouncy balls, and little Minion surprise bags. I may or may not have also bought some extra carpet cleaner.  Ya know, just in case.

 

I was excited. Like, so excited I was dreaming about potty training.

 

I woke up early to make sure everything was ready to start the morning off right and re-read Lora's method.  Basically, other than encouraging patience, consistency, praise/reward and love - she stresses not asking the child if they have to go potty, but that the parent tells the child "Tell Mommy when you have to go potty!" so they learn the cues/signals from their body and can then rush off to the bathroom.  She suggests asking the child if they're dry as a way to praise and acknowledge their success before they even get on the potty.  (So far, at the end of Day One, I really feel like both those approaches/techniques are really helping.)

 

As soon as he woke up this morning I was making a big deal about him being a big boy, not needing to wear diapers anymore, and getting to wear awesome undies.   He took my bait and chose the Superman undies first. I was shocked because I thought for suuuure he would chose Thomas. 

We started off strong with one successful pee on the potty. Soon after I could tell he needed to poop but was uncomfortable and anxious about doing it on the potty. I took him off and watched him very closely - and before long I could see that he was in his typical poop stance and ready. I scooped him up and rushed into the bathroom and was able to get it in the toilet. I hoped this would make him think he did it all himself and ease some of his anxiety. He peed in the potty again right after. 

It was time for nap and after many attempts of getting him to pee before laying down, he was resisting. The method I read said to put him down for naps and bed in his undies and to not use diapers or pull ups or anything! Ha. Well, I gave it a go and after many trips up and down the stairs - I couldn't get back up fast enough and he peed while waiting for me at his door. I waved my white flag and put him in a pull up because I was exhausted and knew he was too. 

He slept for two hours and I had to wake him up (because I never let him sleep past 4:00). It's always a double-edged sword. I wake him so he'll go to sleep but he's a complete grump. Anyway, Mister Grumpy was not happy with me and didn't want anything to do with the potty. This was evidenced by the four accidents he had over the course of the next hour. 

Ryan came home from work and I was overjoyed to have some backup.  I wasn't frustrated in the least bit - just exhausted, and poor Zoey was not getting very much of my attention because I was so focused on Cam.

The kid came back around and had two more successful pees in the potty in the evening.  Even though I washed off his legs after his accidents - the kid needed a good bath.

I didn't hesitate one second to put a pull up on him at bedtime.  The pull ups have Buzz Lightyear on them and he said "That's my Buzz Lightyear to the rescue?!"

 

As I was typing this I heard him upset and crying from his room.  I went in to see what the problem was and he had grabbed a pair of clean (but worn) undies out of his laundry basket and was sobbing "I need to wear dees!"  I'm not convinced he would keep those babies dry so I compromised and put them on over his pull up.

 

End of Day One tally:

#1 Successes: 4

#1 Accidents: 4

#2 Successes: 0

#2 Accidents: 1

Hoping for his typical good night's sleep and I'll be interested to see how wet his pull up is in the morning.

 

I bet you can't wait for tomorrow's update on Day Two.

Take Luck,

LP

Back to Work

Back to school. 

Back to school, to prove to dad that I'm not a fool. 

I got my lunch packed up, my boots tied tight, I hope I don't get in a fight. 

Ohhhh, back to school. 

Back to school. 

Back to school. 

Well, here goes nothing. 

I couldn't help but hear Billy Madison in my head as I headed back to work this past week.  I had a lovely 12 weeks of maternity leave that spanned the summer and in a way, it felt a little like going back to school.  Just without the new school supplies and I was carrying my breast pump into work instead of a fancy new backpack.

I had been feeling all the feelings in the weeks leading up to my return to work.  I worked from home for the three weeks prior, so I felt like I was mentally back in work mode, but I was able to stay in my yogis and snuggle with my sweetheart all at the same time.  The thought of taking her to daycare and spending my days in the office away from her, was making me feel all sorts of sadness and guilt.

We did a daycare dry run last Thursday so I could leave Zoey and the providers could get to know her a little bit.  I was holding onto her as long as I could and telling Ms. Debbie all I could think to share and she said, "You go enjoy your morning, Lauren.  You are smiling so big - you must be looking forward to a little break."  My response included the bursting of the lump that had been rising in my throat and "I'm smiling so I don't cry."  And just like that, I lost it and had to hand her off as I ugly-cried my rear end down the hallway and out of the house.  

And I ugly-cried for the next two hours.  

It's sort of funny to me because I thought the second time around (going back to work and leaving my child in a child care setting) would be easier.  For the record it was not so much easier in any way.  There were so many unknowns and fears/worries I had when leaving Camden - how can I fully trust someone to take care of my child, would he still know I was his mommy, could I manage and balance a career and family, is me being a working mother the best thing for my family?

Even though I know that I can trust Camden and Zoey's daycare providers (and the fact that they're together helps a ton), I know she will still know I'm her mommy, I can (sort of) balance a career and family, and (despite my hatred for paying someone to help raise my kids) being a working mom is the best thing for our family - I was a hot mess of tears over leaving her.  I know it's a totally normal feeling, but I swear I felt the sadness was eating me up in a way it didn't before.  She was the exact same age as Camden was when I went back to work, but I kept feeling like she was too little and young and still should be depending on me, her mommy.  

The more I thought about it - I realized the reason I was feeling so much more sad was not just because of Zoey, but also because chances are real good that "this" part of my life - the pregnancy/newborn/maternity leave/new baby bonding part, is over.

Anyway, boo-hooing aside, the first week went as well as it could have gone, despite how quickly I was reminded just how much I hate pumping.  The daycare ladies were very supportive on the first day and sent tons of pictures and updates.  As much as I loved seeing my girl completely happy and content, the pictures also stung a little.  I know I'm a broken record, but I want to be the one making her smile and giving her snuggles.  Cam too, for that matter!

When we got home Monday afternoon, I just sat on the couch smelling, talking to, and staring at Zoey.  I couldn't get enough of her.

I made it to Wednesday before feeling like I was drowning in the adjustment to "the new normal."  This week I felt like I was in a constant rush - rushing to get myself ready in the mornings, waiting until the absolute last minute to wake the kids before heading out the door, wishing my work day away, rushing to pick them up and spend as much time as possible with them before bedtime, getting as organized as possible for the next day, then falling into bed.  Repeat, repeat, repeat.  I know it'll get easier as we go along, but the physical and mental exhaustion was heavy. 

When I went back to work with Camden, I felt like my breastmilk supply started diminishing almost immediately and I am hell-bent on doing as much as I possibly can to keep that from happening this time.  My goal each day at work is to drink 96 ounces of water and three giant cups of Mother's Milk tea, while squeezing in four 15-minute pump sessions.  So basically this week I felt like if I wasn't pumping or doing work - I was peeing.

As sad as I was to go back to work, I'm incredibly thankful for my wonderful supervisor and co-workers, family, and friends who encouraged me.  I truly lucked out going back to work when I did because I get a long weekend with Labor Day, and next Saturday we all head to Hawaii for a work trip.

Hawaii with my little family on my third week back to work?  It could certainly be worse.

Take Luck,

LP

Mother's Day

My third Mother's Day is in the books and I can hardly believe it.

We celebrated my mom on Saturday by taking the ferry to Seattle so we could meet up with my little sister and spend the day celebrating the amazing mother that she is.

We went to the Woodland Park Zoo where he Cam didn't seem too interested in the animals (other than the penguins) but after witnessing his dance moves on the lawn - I was mostly convinced that the wild beast belonged there.

My little sister captured a really sweet moment between my mom and I.  We were standing there, watching a bird you wouldn't expect to see sitting in a tree sit on a tree (I know, super exciting), and my mom was feeling the baby move inside my big 'ol belly.  She loves to feel the baby move and I can't say that I blame her.

After the zoo we went to my sister's place so we could eat lunch, Camden could nap, and we could recharge the batteries a bit before going to an early dinner.  What can I say?  We like to eat.

  

A day shy of 37 weeks pregnant and a full stomach courtesy of lunch and dinner makes for one big and uncomfortable baby belly.  We made it home late and thank goodness Hammy didn't put up a fight about going to bed because we were all exhausted.

Sunday morning we all got up together bright and early and Ryan treated me to doing the grocery shopping, filling my car with gas, and bringing home a delicious Starbucks coffee.  When he got home he made sure to tell me that he considered buying me a Mother's Day card and flowers, but then decided - eh, better not.  I've never met someone who takes the phrase "it's the thought that counts" so literally.

Cammy, my 37 week belly, and I played outside a lot and our time included me being traumatized multiple times by the pesky garter snakes that have taken residence in our yard.  Much like Tiff, I do not do snakes.  Or rodents.  Or anything else that is creepy and/or slithery so you can imagine how thrilled I was.

My parents came over for a BBQ and we continued to celebrate the special day with a yummy dinner and a wild beast child.  I swear he woke up from his nap and insisted on being a grumpy, defiant, little monster.  The afternoon and evening saw lots of timeouts and tears (from the both of us).

With it being a challenging parenting day, I found myself feeling really guilty with my frustration and the losing of patience.  I know there are (and will be many more) challenging days, but I also know that the days of "just us" are really, really, really limited.  Thankfully we ended the night with him giving me some sweet goodnight hugs and kisses, but darn it if I didn't feel sad after I shut his door and he went to sleep.

Last year I did some reflection on Mother's Day and how I felt about my little guy.  Not much has changed really - except the love and pride I feel for Camden has exploded and grown even more as he has left the baby behind and grown into a little boy.  Even on the tough days, he brings so much joy and happiness to my life.  I feel immeasurably blessed and fortunate to be his mommy, and feel so grateful to be living the life I live with my guys and this sweet, growing, little ladybug.  I am so excited to give Cam a little sister and for next year's Mother's Day picture to show me holding two sweet babies.

   

Take Luck,

LP 

If You Give a Kid a Cupcake...

... He will go bat shit crazy.

I'm only sort of kidding and I'll tell you why.

This past weekend was kinda nutty.  Ryan had to work 8am-8pm on both Saturday and Sunday.  Odd shifts are far from ideal, but they are what they are and I try really hard not to complain.  At least not too much anyway.  As luck would have it, with Ryan at work and me 33 weeks pregnant, Camden decided to give me a real run for my money.

Saturday morning we had soccer and it was all fine and dandy.  Until class started.  Because I am compulsively early, we were there before the mob of 20 wild beasts (and their parents) gathered on the soccer field.  Cam was happy to run freely (wildly), pass the ball back and forth with me, and score goals.  My dad had come to watch and was standing out on the field with me when my Hammy decided he didn't so much want to participate.  Like at all.

For the next 45 minutes, he alternated between debating on participating, throwing himself on the turf, drinking his water, running away from us, picking up some of the obstacle course equipment and using them as (flying) weapons, and just generally doing the exact opposite of anything and everything I said.  I promise I'm not one of those parents that thinks their child is a perfect little angel (hello, I refer to him as a wild beast), but this behavior was really out of character for him.  We tried ignoring him, two-year old appropriate reverse psychology, and timeouts and none of it was helping or working.  He kept saying, "Go home?" and while part of me really, really wanted to get out of there and put us all out of our misery, the other part thought, "No, we're not going home, you little jerk face.  We are staying here."  More flailing, more defiance and I finally waved my little white flag, threw him over my shoulder (a sight, I am sure of it), and carried him off the field.  A screaming, kicking child, and a 33 week pregnant woman don't really mix, so my dear old daddy had the honor of taking over as chariot.

Thank goodness he napped well and wasn't a complete shit the rest of the day and evening, but he was close - totally sassy and testing my already low patience like it was going out of style.  We capped off the day with a trip to the park to "frow wocks."

Sunday morning he was in a super great mood.  We went to the grocery store nice and early (because that's what parents whose kids wake up at 6:15am on Sunday do), and he was my little helper.  He loves counting and putting produce into the plastic bags and then gently placing (ahem, throwing) them in the cart.  

We spent the rest of the morning playing trains, reading books, blowing bubbles, and FaceTiming with Ryan's parents.  Our friend's little boy, Alex, was having his third birthday party at a local park in the afternoon and it was going to work out "perfectly" with Camden's nap time.  I can hear God laughing at me as I type this, because I'll give you two guesses as to who decided it was a great day to spend an hour protesting his nap.  

Did you guess Camden?  Congratulations and don't mind my middle finger.  He finally fell asleep after he had some quality scream-crying time in his crib (don't judge) and then being rocked to sleep.  

I woke him up (I know!) and we ventured to the park.  He was very excited to go to the birthday party but not so excited to forfeit the present (four little Chuggington trains).  Thanks to the weather, the park was crazy crowded, but we found our people and I immediately helped myself to food while Camden was entertained by a bubble machine.  We spent some time playing on the playground, and then it was time for cupcakes and gifts.

Here's where it got really interesting.  We don't give Cam a whole lot of sugar.  Don't get me wrong - he eats his fair share of processed foods, but very, very rarely does he get sugary treats.  And I was reminded as to why.

I took about 90% of the frosting off of his cupcake and helped him eat it so not to make a total mess.  I should have videotaped his consumption because, dear lord - he inhaled it.  I should have known that a shit storm was looming.

We watched Alex open all his gifts and resumed playing on the playground until it was time to go.  My parents were at the Mariner game for my dad's birthday and they had asked if we would check on and feed their puppies for them so we needed to scoot.  Cam surprisingly left without a fuss and we drove to Grammy and Papa's.  We let the dogs out, he stepped in dog poo, and somehow the dog poo managed to find its way onto his shorts.  Fantastic.

Cara called me on FaceTime so Cam and I sat down in the living room to chat.  It was then that I started to wonder if the cupcake he consumed at the party was laced with crack.  Why?  Because during this FaceTime session, my child thought he was auditioning for toddler WWF/WWE and was repeatedly standing on a little red rocking chair and jumping onto me like a spider monkey.  Or Hulk Hogan.  I don't even know.  It was sort of funny at first and then he got this crazy look in his eye and (wait for it) picked up his toddler sized rocking chair and threw it at me.

It's beyond embarrassing but I mean seriously, people. 

Cara and I attempted to continue a conversation and failed miserably - both of us seriously distracted by our boys.  For the record, her boys were not throwing toddler-sized rocking chairs at her.  We finally gave in and ended the call, and I drove a pant and shoe-less Hammy home in relative silence, promising myself to never ever let him eat a cupcake again.

We got home, powered through the rest of the night, and I didn't even have to go in his room once to get him to lay back down in bed.  I think part of his little man self just knew that mommy was done.  Ryan got home just after 8pm and asked how my day was.  The tears immediately started flowing and somehow I managed to say, "It was OK."

With a new baby less than six weeks away, I should probably get used to our lives being a little more chaotic than we're used to.  But seriously - no more cupcakes.

Take Luck,

LP

The Toddler Bed Transition

As a result of my catching the nesting bug, last Sunday we cleared out the room that will be the nursery and moved furniture from one spare room to the next.  Part of the "furniture moving" process was to assemble Camden's (free, hand-me-down) Thomas the Train Toddler Bed, and move it into his room so he could get used to seeing it and be something for us to talk to him about until it was "time."  

After initially freaking out at the thought of trying to transition him to a toddler bed so baby sister could use his crib, and many talks with my wise mommy friends, I had decided (and vowed) that I wouldn't worry about transitioning him and we would wait and see how we all felt about it once the baby was born.  I was (and still am!) planning to keep her in our room for the first three months so really, he wouldn't have "needed" to be out of the crib until mid-August or so.

Anyway, why in the world I thought he wouldn't be excited over this totally awesome Thomas bed is beyond me.  Clearly, along with having the worst memory (thank you, pregnancy), I've also entered into a state of delusion.  He was over the moon excited and insisted on taking his Sunday nap in his Thomas bed.  Rest assured that normally, we do not let our two year old call the shots, but because he was so excited, we figured it wouldn't hurt to at least give it a try.

We tucked him in, explained that big boys stay in their big boy beds, said goodnight, and closed the door.  What he didn't know was that Ryan and I were standing directly on the other side of the door watching his every move with our video monitor.

He immediately got out of bed, stood in the middle of the floor, and stared at himself in the mirror for 20 seconds.

   

It took a few times going in and out of his room, explaining to him that he needed to stay put (and even threatening to put him in his crib which he made very clear that he didn't want to do), but in a relatively short amount of time - he was out.  And our jaws were on the floor.

  

If I recall, it wasn't the longest nap in the history of Sunday naps, but it wasn't a total disaster either.  I  immediately started worrying about how that night would go and how we would approach the sleeping arrangements.  He seemed adamant that he didn't want to sleep in his crib, but I also didn't want my wild beast child wandering the house at all hours of the night.  Again, contrary to his occasional beliefs - he isn't the boss around here, but I was very curious as to how it would go down if we were willing to give it a shot.  This all had kind of happened organically (yes, I really just said organically) and no where was this transition in my plan.  A Sunday afternoon is the absolute last time I would spring a big change like this.  Needless to say, I was fearing the worst for that Sunday night and rude Monday morning.

Much like the first nap, it took a few times of him getting out of bed, standing in the middle of his room, and getting gentle reminders from us that he needed to stay in bed - but he was able to fall asleep on his own in a pretty impressive (to us) amount of time.  I watched him on the monitor like a hawk, just waiting for him to hop his little self out of bed.  This hawk watching continued all night long while my hubby slept like a rock beside me.  Guess what?  He hardly moved, let alone let himself out of bed.

At 6:15 the next morning (Monday), I was downstairs getting ready for work and I heard his door open.  He was so happy and so proud and said, "Hi, Mommy!"  We praised the heck out of him, and I chalked the successful night up to a fluke.

I'll spare you the daily play-by-play, but every night since has gone incredibly smooth.  We lay in his Thomas bed together and read his stories, I say goodnight and shut his door, go back in a few times to remind him to stay in bed, and then he's asleep.  The one and only issue that we're having is that the little pork chop has been waking up really early and letting himself out of his room - ready to greet the day.  The earliest greeting came at one 5am when he burst through our door asking to go downstairs and "watch baseballs."  Otherwise it's kind of varied from 5:30am - 6:10am.  He's always been an early riser (I get him up at 6:30am to get ready for daycare/work), but I'm not even waking up until 5:30am on the weekdays.  

Some days have been earlier/later than others, and it's taken some commitment and discipline on our part to march him right back into his bed when he wakes up too early.  As easy as it would be to let him climb in our bed or just stay awake - neither Ryan or I want to go down that road.  We like having our bed to ourselves and I certainly do not want Cam thinking that anytime before 6am is a normal or acceptable waking hour.  

I ordered this to try and help him understand that he needs to stay asleep and in bed until the clock says it's ok to wake up, but someone keeps forgetting (hello, pregnancy brain) to buy AA batteries at the store and so it's just siting there on his bookshelf doing nothing.  I'm hopeful that once I get my act together and purchase some batteries, we'll go back to not seeing his little face until 6:30am.

We still have the crib in his room so we can use it as leverage to get him to stay in bed, but we are making progress and it's taking less reminders from us before he's staying put and falling asleep.  The plan is to move it into baby sister's room in the next few weekends so we can start talking to him some more about how his world is about to be rocked. 

I certainly wasn't ready to tackle this transition, but apparently he was. 

Take Luck,

LP