6 months old

  Sebastian is a big 6 month old today. He is a sweet angel during the day and a high maintenance hellian at night. He prefers to sleep dangerously with his face buried in a blanket and his diaper sticking straight up in the air. His favorite food is ketchup on toast. He wears size 18 month clothing. He is also very smart and dictated this complicated paragraph to me, word for word.

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instavida

1. cold on tops and warm on bottoms, apparently
2. Saint Louis on horseback
3. similar hairstyles
4. male pushup
5. is that Grace or Julia?
6. Julia's death grip

Are you on Instagram? Pray tell.


*I apologize to the faithful followers for the leftovers

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lots of cool

I found, didn't try on, and purchased this pretty blue skirt at the Goodwill the other day . . .

It was seemingly perfect and thanks to an elastic waist and an appropriatish length it required no alterations and for two dollars -- the blue was mine.


Then I got home and tried it on ...

bleeeeeeeep!
a skirt disguised as culottes.
how very flattering.

(And before you judge -- please know that I have a pair of calf muscles on back order from a reputable internet company)

I realllllly, really wish I could report what exactly Simon said about the awfuls but I like to keep things expletive-free at the Camp.

Next thing you know I'm going to be in the market for and purchase a seemingly sensible floor-length denim jumper only to come home and find that I had actually purchased wiiiiide leg denim overalls.  Just you wait.

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the interminable Saturday

Try as my ever optimistic self might I couldn't seem to get out of my funk and into a funkless state of pleasant yesterday.  Oh, you want to read my litany of ish? I thought so...
Simon was/is working for the eleventymillionth weekend in a row ... which is, of course, something for me to complain about.
Sebastian pulled a Julia on me and decided to be a need monger all day.
Laundry.
After spending 68 exasperating minutes getting the kids ready for a walk-run-walk and shuffling out the door it started to pour (just water--- no felines or canines that I saw).
And the tornado sirens went off, the power went out, and the sky turned black all within the same minute -- scaring me almost as much as invisible predators tend to do. 

So ... you know ... just one life threatening crisis after another. Unroll those eyes, please.

Anyway ... before the threat of the descent of the Great Chastisement ... I channeled my inner Betty-Martha-Giada long enough to pull Julia away from the glow of Netflix and enlisted her always helpful help to make these Buckeye-esque things -- or "cake" -- according to the bakerita extraordinaire  . . .

1. mastering the art of stirring the contents of an empty bowl
2. health nuts
3. "touch it" (chocolate)

Sunday is going about eleventymillion times better than Saturday. Thank you for wondering.


ps thank you to Ana, Kayla, and Cari for kindly e-mailing me at some point during the delightful day. Mucho appreciato the adult interaction.

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guten morning

(have I mentioned that Julia's favorite activity is to closely watch Sebastian's diaper get changed? because it is)

I just found Julia sucking down a (now empty) tube of teething gel looking guilty but pleased with herself. I can't be certain but I'm willing to be that in about three minutes the joke is going to be on her and her numb tongue, throat, and stomach ... which should make her already crystal clear language much easier to understand, I'm sure.

sappy haturday, or something.

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7 Quick Takes: My Act is Not Together edish

1. I was going to write about the hell that was last night's teething children's wake up calls (6 before midnight -- after that --- I lost both count and temper) but I thought that might too interesting. Sorry.

2. Then I thought I would share what I am making for dinner. Fine -- these. Easy and everyone at least pretends to like them. Tomorrow - frozen pizza. Sunday - leftover frozen pizza. We like fancy feasts.

3. I also wanted to include an up close and personal photo of some of the ingredients. So I did. Not cliche at all.

4. 8 hours have lapsed since I started this post. Not to name any names but Julia and Sebastian have been real need sucks today. And yesterday.

5. Did you see that Emily finally blogged again?

6. Or that Jenny wrote and dropped her hilarious birth story?

7. Simon is working Saturday and Sunday but after pounding out a pathetic email or three to her -- there is a chance I might get to meet Emily and her little lady this weekend. Who ever said the internet wasn't good for meeting complete strangers? Not I.

Go see Jen for truly better takes.

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does she ever smile?

Earlier today someone (rightly!) commented asking if Julia, "ever smiles?".  Sooo then I felt a little guilty and even though I am still in my sleepwear at 5:09 in the eve I went to hunt down a photo of a smile because I felt like maybe I was misrepresenting Julia's cheery personality. But then I came across this emerald and decided a :) can wait another day or ten.

if looks could actually kill? both Sebastian and I are officially deceased

I wish I could remember what the issue was here ...

was it that I wasn't allowing her to play with my "betch" a-hem (watch)?
or that she couldn't eat cake for breakfast, snack, lunch, snack, snack, snack, dinner, snack, snack?
or that I wouldn't fill her bottle up with "buck" (milk)?
orrr was it when I explained that, "no, the man with the yellow hat carrying the curious monkey is not Jesus" -- yet again?

Probably a pleasant combo of the four.
Horrific life be hers.

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Simon Says

After tossing, turning, and cursing insomnia late one night last week, I (loudly) announced to a sleeping that Simon I couldn't sleep. After he didn't respond I repeated my complaint louder and louder until he finally opened his eyes and before rolling over said, "well, you should probably get that figured out."

In response to my suggestion that we hire a live-in robot nanny Simon said, "and a wage earner! Then we could frolic merrily forever."

After bemoaning the fact that a certain region of my body is all but concave after only nursing two children for a grand total of 4 months Simon said, "well, maybe Victoria's little sister has a secret."

When I saw that Simon had put Julia's winter shoes on with shorts and no socks for a walk and asked why he didn't put her warm weather/play friendly sandals on instead, Simon said, "she doesn't need to be wearing her pumps to the park."

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for your reading pleasure

. . . and then the internet exploded in corn(y)



Anyway, I just wanted to alert the readership that I've updated the list of FUS alum bloggers.

You're welcome.



*and as always, let me know if I've missed you!

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tantrums

 emphasis on the plural . . .

. . . I believe this was when I wouldn't give her a 34th scoop of peanut butter in a row.

(Simon says her Mass bound outfit makes her look like, "she is trying too hard.")
Okay.

Anyway. If anyone is in the market for a good tantrum -- we're handing them out completely free of charge here at Chez Fun. The more you need the merrier they'll be, guaranteed.  I don't really mind when its just me and the funions but I really don't appreciate her making me look like the bad mom that I obviously am not in front of friends and/or strangers.

Simon's solution is to gently place/throw her into an empty cage/Portacrib in the (not scary) basement while she talks herself down from the overdose of crazysauce.

While I am armed with a spate of simple solutions . . .
1. lock her in the bathroom with an indestructible hard copy of a novena to the patron of ridiculous (her fave)
2. if I'm in a comedic mood I'll throw a better and fancier tantrum than she is able to muster (my fave)
3. put on my blinders and ear plugs while counting my blessings in the form of Sebastian Patton's noiseless smiles of adoration (Sebastian's fave)

And in the mean time, I'll just keep telling myself that this, like all of her other super pleasant ages and stages, shall pass.

I think.
I can.

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here and there

As your luck would have it, I'm tri-locating today. I'm here with hot mess and blob, over at Betty Beguiles talking about drinking, and over at Lace, etc. talking about thrifting. Win, win, win.

happy clicking then reading.

and many, many thanks to Hallie and Preethi, the pretty hostesses with the mostesses.

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Simon Texts

It's Sunday morning so naturally I'm going to make a nice breakfast. Simon kindly volunteered to run to the store to hunt and gather a box of cake mix while I sit here and Google, "best Sunday breakfast coffee cake in the whole world using a box of yellow cake mix".

Right before he left, he caught/smelled wind that Sebastian needed a diaper change and coincidentally rushed out the door. He chirp-texted me the following a few minutes after his hasty departure . . .

Sorry I'm not sorry.




**updated with photos captioned by Simon

1. "not quite what I had in mind"
2. title that, "welcome to my frontier"

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park

Since Simon is working, Julia is sleeping in her cage, the kitchen is being vinegar bombed (thank you ants), and Sebastian is passed out on my lap (lulling the bottom half of my body to sleep under the crushing weight of his person) I'll go ahead and over share about our trip to the park the other eve . . .

1. I've never met a duck that doesn't like carbohydrates but Julia managed to find one that refused to take her pre-chewed waffle fry. Idiot.
2. So she just ran around flailing her arms and talked loudly to herself. Idio- just kidding. Maybe.
3. Julia let Sebastian pour himself into one of her hoodies.
4. He loved it.
5. Julia sprinted into traffic but Grace valiantly saved her while holding a stuffed sausage and wearing a running skirt.
6. Simon was content to stay put, watch the chase, and guard the leftover ketchup packets.
7. We were entertained by a female hiker climbing up, down, and repeat the teeny hill complete with body sized backpack.  Not pictured but I'm sure she'll be featured in National Geographic scaling Everest soon.

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7 Quick Takes: Linkage

I know. I love a good cop out post riddled with links. But these are all worth your precious time. Prom.

1. Congratulations to Jenny (and her husband, I guess)! I might not sleep till she posts the birth story -- so if she could selflessly get on that stat -- I'd greatly appreciate it.

2. Mucho Gracios to Betty for very, very kindly mentioning the Camp in her post today. I have her to thank for all zillion page views above my daily average of 7.

3. I'm totally coveting Jessica's new hair (to which she responded that I should do this to my hair to which I responded: a stern no)

4. Typing of hair, Sebastian's birthday twin's mom (got that? I thought not) Sydney posted a stellar hair tutorial. I'm certain my hair will totally look that great if I do like she does. Just certain.

5. I would genuinely like to commission Dwija's daughter, Lizzy to draw a similar picture of my and my never lazy nor idle hands and angelic offspring. Pretty please.

6. Please go tell my sister to post more frequently than her current rate of twice monthly. I need to laugh out loud more.

7. I should get my act together one of these weeks and plan a weekly menu like Laura (my former housemate!) does. Or maybe just cut and paste hers and call it a perfect.

8. b-b-b-onus! Mrs. Janney is done with the helllllish iodineless diet. Go welcome her back to the land of the normal living. 

Go see Jen for better givers and their takes.

Have a tolerable weekend!
And may it not be filled with marathon toddler chases up your neighbors' wheelchair ramp.

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dad vs. mom

a basic euphemism for:

good vs. evil
nice vs. mean
love vs. tolerance
"dada!" vs. grunt
fun vs. chores

Despite the fact that Julia is with me (diapered, clothed, fed, served, carried, bathed) 99.9% of her waking hours, she still obviously prefers Saint Simon to her Cinderella . . .

. . . a conundrum for the masses.

at lease she's in good company, I suppose.
 

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affectionate miracle

Blame it on her medicated birth, no co-sleeping, plentiful formula, hours of crying it out, and/or the boxes and boxes of disposable diapers she's worn but Julia has never voluntarily given me a bona fide hug ... until yesterday outside the hospital where we met Simon for lunch.

weird but welcomed.

and incredibly short-lived.
Maybe in another 18.9 months I'll get lucky again. 

Also, her favorite favorite favorite thing in the whole world to do these days is to carefully watch and narrate in painful detail as I change Sebastian's diaper. So, clearly I'm doing about a million things right.


*if you like my outfit, I understand. It's called, 'business on the top, mom on the bottom' or, 'teenage boy'. Pick your style poison.

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diaper genie

Like Dwija we have a complicated dirty diaper disposal system. It involves plastic grocery sacks, two human feet, and the big outside garbage can. When I went to dispose of a dropped diaper bomb earlier this morning and grabbed this joke of a bag (former home to our free 3 page rolled up community not quite a newspaper - more like a newsletter) out of our stash . . .

 . . . it became apparent that perhaps one of the diaper changers might need to up his diaper changing frequency.

(normal sized bag also pictured to insult your viewing intelligence)

Because, unless he plans on cutting the dirty into pungent little pieces or waving his magic diaper shrinking wand ... this willn't work for our not Elven children.

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age of reasonable responsibility

During this month's rotation on every fourth night Simon gets to stay in the ICU  ~3 hours later than usual which we both thoroughly and obviously enjoy. I set the expectation bar even lower than usual (possible? barely) on those days as 8am feels like 5am and 5pm feels like 2pm and you can do basic math so you get the developed photograph.

To pass the time I do fun activities such as:
watch Sebastian carefully examine his hands for the 78th time that hour
separately sneak wash Julia's trifecta of gross blankies
sweep the cabinets for Easter candy stragglers
eat the Easter candy stragglers
read brilliant internet
watch brilliant internet
and decide to do the first day of the Couch to 5K program which leaves me in a heaping "I just ran for 60 seconds every 90 seconds for 20 consecutive minutes, glared at only one dog walker who refused to yield to me and the humans I was walkrunning, and only ran the jogger into one fence while trying to explain to Julia that, 'we (breath) would (breath breath) be home (breath breath breath) soon (gasssssp for many breaths)' where is my trophy and recovery shake?" pile of 89 million weeks postpartum pride

So when I tasked Julia with the responsibilities of both getting Sebastian a toy to play with and finding her own sippy cup of 'buck' (milk -- so smart) from my throne of couch I was pleased to very pleased with the accuracy of her results

1. (clean, don't worry) tasty diaper toy and pushed off his state of the art play mat
2. straight to the buck (empty -- from the trash) source and changed into her shorts from her future as a 4 year old

You know what this means ... that expectation bar is flying excitedly right back up to near perfection every day for the rest of forever ... and ever. 

Amen.

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Simon Says

taking in the vast expanse of ... nothing.


When flipping through my People magazine, Simon observed and said, "you know where Christina Aguilera and Nicki Minaj look like they belong? The Capitol."

In the middle of the night when I tried to tell him something (important), Simon reply/yelled/said, "I can't hear you over the roar of the sound machine factory we're running."

After a supremely superb day with Julia, Simon said, "Julia, please tell your mom that you are sorry for ruining her life."

Regarding Sebastian and Julia's different temperaments, Simon said, "blob and hot mess."

When trying to decide how to make the best use of our time on Sunday evening, Simon asked, "where can we go with two child shaped shackles?"

And when discussing different ways to pay off his med school debt, Simon suggested, "an Etsy shop!"

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Sunday Visitors

1. inaugural meeting with Great Grandpa Pete
2. watching Paul's recruiting video
3. "Puppy" reading about mice at Christmas, naturally
4. "Puppy" and "Shhhhhhhh"
5. after his first taste of "almond what?!" in his coffee
6. my dad, Julia's mom, Sebastian's sister, Gary's grandson

My dad and his dad came to visit yesterday afternoon. It was Simon, Julia, and Sebastian's first time to meet (Great) Grandpa Pete and Grandpa's first time to ever (very reluctantly) try Almond milk in his coffee. Grandpa Pete told an off color joke involving an old man and a talking frog for me to 'put on my thing' (blog) but I think I'll keep things PG-rated for now. We'll see how I'm feeling later.

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Daniel Facebooks

You remember my brother Daniel? The one who recommended I try Fish Oil to both ward off any looming postpartum depression and try to save my complexion?

photo c/o the Facebook

If you're friends with me on Facebook odds are high that you're friends with Dan (short for Daniel) so these may be old news but I thought I'd share two recent status updates with any potentially unenlightened souls ...

 

I found them to be especially hilare because Dan in real life and Dan on the internet is pretty quiet - just like his older and shorter sister who enjoys recycling bits and pieces of the w cubed.

Happy inaugural day of the weekend.

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for the grandparents

His new trick. He also rejects formula in bottles.
Moral of the video: Homeboy's gonna get skinny.



*yes this is the kind of Friday nightlife I deem post worthy when my co-parent is working late. Again. So sorry.

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7 Quick Takes: healthy snacks edish

Of course I'll need to preface this by stating that I'm not any sort of licensed or unlicensed nutritionist. Nor am I in any sort of shape in which I am even remotely thrilled at the prospect of wearing a bathing suit in public. So take these with a grain of gullible.

In a perfect world I would enjoy inhaling carrot sticks between my three squares, have all the time in the world to shell and roast Edamame, and grow my own tomatoes but the shoe just doesn't quite fit and I'm still a few weeks shy of being perfect. I'll have great intentions to chop and appropriately store fruit and vegetables but my priority list jumbles easily and I've had to make some compromises in the healthy snacking department. I tend to eat all day long and have found the following foods help me do just that without gaining back the weight I gained during both pregnancies at the same time. Also, I veer more toward less sugar and starch and more fat rather than low fat and high sugar. But I really like sugar and am about to pop my 8th and 9th Reese's Eggs of the minute into my greedy mouth. So you should totally listen to me.

1. Snapea Crisps. these market themselves as a salad topper but since I tend to kill and mold all greens four seconds after they're purchased I just eat this by the handful instead. You have to eat 20 'peas' before you hit 100 calories and they totally hit the Cool Ranch Dorito craving spot. I promise. Julia even likes them and she only likes junk food, kidney beans straight from the can, and antacids so I'm sure you'll like them too.

2. Hummus. Super original. To enjoy with your faux Doritos and to help slow your crunch snarfing roll. Or to eat with slices of the bell pepper that hasn't gone bad quite yet.

3. Iced Coffee. I usually finish my morning coffee in the afternoon with Almond milk and Agave nectar over ice. Super exciting.

4. Better 'n Peanut Butter. Could they not have come up with a Better 'n Awful Name? I first saw this on Gina's stellar site and it is amazing. It has almost half the calories of regular peanut butter,

(I know - more sugar - lose some) doesn't have that delicious inch of oil to mix in like natural peanut butters tend to, is nice and sweet for my sweet tooth, and can be found at Target or Trader Joe's. I like it on bananas or my finger but you can eat it however you'd like. I'll let you.

5. Tea. I'm horrible about drinking water. When I'm not inhaling Reeses Eggs after dinner I try to drink some tea. Any tea at all. It ups my water intake level about 3/4 of a small mug about four days of the week. Go Grace go.

6. Chia Seed Smoothie. (remaining faithful to the cause) Or any smoothie at all. Sometimes I'll make 1.5 times the normal amount and 'snack' on the .5 throughout the morning or afternoon if Julia doesn't kill it first.

7. Etc. Greek yogurt, eggs (I prefer cooked, you might prefer raw), any and all cheese in or out of moderation, lunch meat, reluctant water, and leftover organic overpriced baby food (thanks Sebastian). Or you could just stick to the Reese's. Or not listen to me at all. 

For scads of prettier takes, go see Jen.

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The Price of Hygiene

Me me me me me.

I'm important and I make it a priority to take the time to shower every other day.  However, the time lapsed from when I get undressed to when I actually get in the shower is far too long. Far tooooooo long. Some emergent thing inevitably rears his or her ugly head. I realize Julia hid my razor under her pillow, or razor bandit falls down half the stairs, or Sebastian wakes up from his little tiny morning napito in a fit of hungry rage. Always something.

The shower itself is always short and inevitably punctuated by other emergencies on behalf of the needlets but, the other day they were quiet for far too long. Far toooooo long. Julia never popped her head in to do her usual check on how the knee shaving was going or tried to fill her sippy cup up with the hot shower water like she normally does. But I didn't complain. I dried off, got dressed, and went to check on the newly winged angels . . .


Oh, perfect.

Julia was merely ensuring (while still wearing her Easter dress) that Sebastian does not have a nut allergy and introducing him to a big bad food genre: the peanut butter vat.

This scene (which was a lot of fun to clean out of Sebastian's thick hair and minimal neck folds) combined with the broken necklace beads I found stuffed in poor Sebastian's mouth after another luxurious date with Mr. Basic Hygiene makes me almost miss the days of showering with a captivated and immobile audience of a not yet walking Julia and a not yet eye opening Sebastian.

Almost.



*This is in no way a solicitation for advice on when to shower (after bed or before the children rise -- no thank you) it is merely an unsolicited peek into 6 unholy minutes of my glamorous life. As always, you're welcome.

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Maybe

it's time to face the horror music and potty train her highness . . .

who has grown unabashedly accustomed to asking for a 'pook' while getting her 'poof - ewwwwww' changed.





*and maybe we should look into laundering her after Easter formerly white pantalones. Where is her scullery mother when duty rings?

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Sebastian the Fashionisto

I'll give you one wild guess which parent was responsible for which outfit ...

1. Dressed in a warm fur (albeit powder pink) coat purchased by my mom in case Sebastian was a girl baby. It fits. It's warm and suitable for walks where he sees nary a friend or foe.

2. Dressed in a size 0-3 months sausage casing and a fur monstrosity. He doesn't look sexy and he knows it.

Guess away ...

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Simon Says

While trying to feed a very overzealous and melodramatically hungry Sebastian for the first time, Simon said, "this is not fun, this is actually really very annoying."

After watching in horror as the kids quickly devoured half of his dinner, ketchup and all, Simon said, "our kids are ravenous pigs."

On Good Friday before we ate dinner and while we were on a walk Simon said, "I'm so hungry. I might just eat Sebastian, you just know he would taste so juicy."

Also on Good Friday when trying to decide if we should watch The Passion, Simon said, "I've never seen it so do not tell me what happens at the end."

To try and lure Julia into a bath and eventually bed, Simon held up Julia's 'pup' (cup) and said, "Julia, how about we let you take your sippy into the bath? Lap of luxury right there."

In the middle of our drive to Wichita after a diaper change or three, and some serious acrobatics on my part to feed Sebastian his bottle without fully removing him from his car seat but not surrendering myself to the sliver of a middle seat of doom between the two of them, Simon said, "I'd think its pretty safe to say we are riding relatively dirty."

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