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    Will a kiss make it better?

    July 25th, 2011

    [S kissing G]
    G: Stop, Daddy! You’re hurting me!
    S: What? My kiss is hurting you?
    G: Yes. You’re pokey.
    S: My face is too scratchy and it hurts you?
    G: Yes.
    S: Can I kiss it and make it better?
    G: Yea.
    G: STOP! You’re doing it again!

    This little piggy had roast peas

    July 23rd, 2011

    G’s version of This little piggy:

    This little piggy went to the market
    This little piggy I dunno
    This little piggy had roast peas
    This little piggy had more peas
    This little piggy cried wee wee wee all the way home


    July 22nd, 2011

    S2 now scoots himself around. G will quickly discover to hide his toys.


    What I woke up to this morning

    July 22nd, 2011

    (a certain unnamed parent): [fart]
    S2: hahahahahaha

    Uhmn… yeah.

    Good bye infant seat

    July 21st, 2011

    It’s crazy to think that it’s time to forever retire our infant car-seat. I swear it was a week ago that we brought our wee little boys home in it.

    However it’s becoming a monster to lug around with a 19lb munchkin, so it’s about time we move onto the next thing.

    This time snuck-up on me so fast. G took forever to get out of the seat. Since he gained weight so slowly, he was about 1 when we moved him into the convertible seat. I was so excited to finally “graduate” away from the bucket seat. Now, this transition seems melancholy in comparison. It’s the “this is my last baby” syndrome, for sure.

    S and I spent a couple of mind-numbing days car-sear shopping and stalking friends’ car seat setup. We wasted a perfectly good date night at Babies R Us one evening coming to the conclusion we just can’t fit 2 rear-facing car seats in my car. I drive a Fit, and the only way to get a convertible seat RF behind the driver (because let’s face it, there’s no such thing as “middle” when there’s a convertible seat in that vehicle) is if the driver’s seat is pulled up all the way forward, and it’s not reclined in any way. I just can’t drive like that, and God forbid S tries to drive it — he’s have to have his knees around his ears.

    So the next logical thing (past buying a different vehicle) was to consider turning G around and transitioning our search to forward-facing seats. I had, initially, hoped to keep G rear-facing until the recommended 35lbs, but at his rate of snail-paced growth, that was going to be another year from now. S2 on the other hand would be reaching the weight-limit for the carrier within 2 months. Not adding up. Ultimately we chose the Nautilus for G’s next seat. We narrowed down the patterns we liked down to 2, and let G pick out which one he wanted. He chose this one <-

    So… let’s take a moment of silence to bid adieu to the seat that represents the age of an era… and a short stroll down memory lane. I’m going to try and find it a good home, since it’s in great condition and has 2 years of life left in it.

    S2 coming home

    G partying out

    My peanuts ain’t peanuts no mo 🙁

    I’ll take that fish, please. Cooked

    July 14th, 2011

    Pregnancy does some weird things to you, dude. My feet have grown (this is actually a good thing — I can now wear “big girl shoes”), and my taste buds are not as picky. I can now eat AND enjoy things I would previously snub my nose at. Like fish. Cooked fish to be exact.

    For as long as I could remember, I never enjoyed cooked fish. It’s definitely not an allergy thing. It’s a taste thing. To me, all the fish I’d tried was too dry, or had little flavor. I remember my dad’s mom making some delicious fish when I was really little, but she died when I was pretty young, and was the only one to make that recipe, so I had kind of written off fish. Over time, I tried sushi in high school (though was hesitant to do so) and was hooked, so I had to revise my “no fish” rule, to be “no cooked fish”. Yet since I’ve been pregnant, I tried fish and you know what? It wasn’t bad! At the Yahoo! cafeteria I tried grilled Red Snapper, and it was delicious. Then Telapia, and it was good too. I like sea bass, and fish n’ chips (and whichever fish they stuff in there), so I have 4 cooked fish checks to my name.

    Next up? Peanut butter. I couldn’t stand the stuff. I can’t explain what this tastes like to me. Aside from the fact that it’s dry and sticky, just the flavor was so… off. Yet again, since bring pregnant with S2, I could tolerate it. It came as part of my protein snack (thank you again, Yahoo! cafeteria), and it was good. I even, recently, did an afternoon snack of sliced apples and peanut-butter. I have to be mentally prepared for it though. G surprised me by sticking a spoon-full of PB in my mouth a few weeks back, when I thought it was sunflower butter, and BOY did I have to fake enjoying that one.

    Lastly? Tolerance to capsaicin-based spicy foods. I am such a whimp when it comes to spicy food. This is actually one item that physically makes me ill to consume. To a point of crawling up into a ball in the bathroom. I just don’t digest it well, so it’s not a matter of it burning going in — it was a matter of me feeling like hurling about 30 minutes later. Horse-radish based spice is no big, but pepper-based spice was my arch-nemesis. The bell-pepper was about as spicy as I can eat. Yet, since G, I can tolerate a little bit of spice.

    These changes are all well and good. I’m a much less picky eater now.

    But if pregnancy could give me these unexpected side-effects, I just wanna know… why couldn’t it also make me taller? 2″ too much to ask?

    UPDATE: Hmn… I see now why people think this… but I am NOT pregnant. I’m just reflecting on how having been pregnant has changed my relationship to food. For what appears to be permanent.

    Phrases I just shouldn’t have to say

    July 10th, 2011

    Yeah, it turns out some things are not common knowledge, and as a parent I’m finding myself having to state the obvious. You know… things like:

    “G please do NOT bounce the ball off your brother’s head.”

    I know now why gray hair happens.

    Foto Friday

    July 7th, 2011

    My children are genetically engineered to be tummy sleepers.

    Milk, it does the body good!

    Brotherly hugs

    Playtime is so emotional

    Yummo grapes

    Best part of a week-end.

    Movie Monday

    July 5th, 2011

    Yeah, well, today is Tuesday, but it’s the first day of the work-week, so close enough 🙂

    Monster Hat


    S2’s first swing (at the park)


    What an awesome morning looks like. Sorry! It’s dark.


    This fortress is for brothers only


    Nursing sucks!!!! (insert expletive here)

    July 3rd, 2011

    I am going to loose my ever-loving mind over here. If I thought it was possible for an 8m old to wean, I swear he’d be doing it. He wants nothing to do with me: he wants his sippy, he wants his bottle, but my boobs he could care less about. The only time we can nurse, quite frankly, is if he’s asleep, or on his way to falling asleep.

    His nursing sessions during the day? A minute stinkin’ long. And I swear, he is trying to set a personal record for how many times he can latch and un-latch within that minute. He chomps, he tugs his head. IT STINKIN’ SUCKS (or actually, the opposite… it doesn’t)!!! I’ve tried nursing in absolute silence, singing to him, removing all distractions, covering his head, using a nursing cover to focus him on task. NOTHING IS WORKING. At this stage, I’m just grateful he has no teeth just yet. I hate this age, in terms of nursing.

    My supply is tanking too, so I’m doing my best to nurse as often as I can. I wait until I’m sure he’s hungry and not “snack”, but it’s just failing. I’m trying to rely on him to nurse so that I can at least keep what I have left, and he’s not down with the program. At this stage, I’m ready to throw in the towel and just pump during the day even on week-ends. It sure won’t help my supply any, but I’m at the end of my rope here. Kid needs to eat. I’m not ready to wean. I just don’t know what else to try.