Raiden loves me. Not just a little, a lot. It's actually kind of flattering. Neither of my other kids was this attached to me. Sure, I had the milk, but they were happy to hang out with Daddy, at least.
When Zane is holding Raiden and he sees me, Raiden leans at me, pushes at Zane with one arm, and reaches desperately for me with the other. This morning Raiden was fussing and Zane brought him into our bed. He was perfectly happy, then he saw me. He ripped his fingers out of his mouth, squealed, smiled, and tried to wiggle toward me. It was enough to get me out of bed because hey, enthusiasm like that should be rewarded.
The other exciting thing Raiden has been doing is crawling. At 5 months! He's very advanced. Just in the last day he's been truly crawling instead of just getting up on all fours, rocking, falling down, and occasionally lunging forward (at me, naturally).
This talented mama's boy. Him so precious (to quote Big Sister).
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Ninety....Eight Percent Boy
Sasha is a boy. For example: both he and Sabrina have one older brother. Sabrina, from time immemorial, has loved pink, princesses, baby dolls, and so on. Sasha makes guns and shoots badguys. He will brandish a stick/tinkertoy/finger at me and say, "I a SUPERHEWO. Kill da badguys. Pchooo pchooo." Sabrina does not make guns sounds.
Sasha is also physical. His default setting is "run," he was kicking a soccer ball before he could really walk, and he pushes his sister for fun. We bought a toy excavator at Costco that Santa will give him, and he held it all the way home. Twactow! he says, as we drive by a construction site.
So his answer when asked what he wanted for Christmas surprised me. "Pwincess bike," he said decisively. Zane was not amused. "How about a Diego bike?" Zane riposted. Frankly, Sasha's favorite show is Dora, so how about that?
On second thought, though, maybe I shouldn't be surprised. The first color Sasha learned was pink, and he always wants his fingernails and toenails painted. Having an older sister certainly has influenced him! Based on his other attributes, though, I'm convinced Sasha is simply secure in his masculinity and thinks painted fingernails looks tough.
Sasha is also physical. His default setting is "run," he was kicking a soccer ball before he could really walk, and he pushes his sister for fun. We bought a toy excavator at Costco that Santa will give him, and he held it all the way home. Twactow! he says, as we drive by a construction site.
So his answer when asked what he wanted for Christmas surprised me. "Pwincess bike," he said decisively. Zane was not amused. "How about a Diego bike?" Zane riposted. Frankly, Sasha's favorite show is Dora, so how about that?
On second thought, though, maybe I shouldn't be surprised. The first color Sasha learned was pink, and he always wants his fingernails and toenails painted. Having an older sister certainly has influenced him! Based on his other attributes, though, I'm convinced Sasha is simply secure in his masculinity and thinks painted fingernails looks tough.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Sick is Gross
Last night, looking distressed, Sabrina ran up to me. And proceeded to throw up on me three times. Poor baby. And also, gross. She had also thrown up on the stairs.
So, I cleaned up everything. Then I gave her some juice. After all, she'd also had diarrhea (she came running in: "I had diawwea!") and I was worried about dehydration and stuff. I put her to bed with a throw up bowl.
Then she threw up again. Pink throwup this time, since after four good vomits she only had juice in her stomach. Okay. Clean that up.
Because I had not learned, I was doomed to repeat my mistake. Here's some water, sweetie. Drink it slow. Annnnnd, more vomit. This time clear. Just stomach acid and water. Despite Sabrina's complaints about being thirsty, I denied her water. Which of you, if your daughter is thirsty, will give her a stone? Me, apparently.
Well, she threw up once more in the night, but she's better this morning. A six-hour flu. And while being a mom has its less glamorous moments, having her snuggled up beside me sure makes me happy.
So, I cleaned up everything. Then I gave her some juice. After all, she'd also had diarrhea (she came running in: "I had diawwea!") and I was worried about dehydration and stuff. I put her to bed with a throw up bowl.
Then she threw up again. Pink throwup this time, since after four good vomits she only had juice in her stomach. Okay. Clean that up.
Because I had not learned, I was doomed to repeat my mistake. Here's some water, sweetie. Drink it slow. Annnnnd, more vomit. This time clear. Just stomach acid and water. Despite Sabrina's complaints about being thirsty, I denied her water. Which of you, if your daughter is thirsty, will give her a stone? Me, apparently.
Well, she threw up once more in the night, but she's better this morning. A six-hour flu. And while being a mom has its less glamorous moments, having her snuggled up beside me sure makes me happy.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Primary Program
Sabrina's first Primary program was the last Sunday in October. A few observations for your pleasure.
1. My daughter is the cutest child in the world. Hers was the first part of the Sunbeams. She said, "Jesus once was a wittow chiowd," with perfect poise. The next little girl said, with perfect diction, "A little child like me." Well, so what? Wittow chiowd is adorable!
2. When you have 11 o'clock church and Sacrament Meeting last, you should have treats for the kids before the program. Sabrina was perfect the first hour of church (practice), a little distracted by the second hour (practice), a full-on done by the third hour (performance). It's sad, because in the practice session she really knew the songs and actions, but she was Just. Done. Sugar would have gone a long way to making her more attentive.
3. 11 is way too old to do a program with 3-year-olds. That is all.
4. I'm going to love Primary programs for the next 11 years. Then they will get boring again unless I'm in the Primary or have grandchildren in Primary. That had better not happen for at least another 25 years or so (they have to be at least 3 to be in Primary, after all). I'd better enjoy it while I can!
1. My daughter is the cutest child in the world. Hers was the first part of the Sunbeams. She said, "Jesus once was a wittow chiowd," with perfect poise. The next little girl said, with perfect diction, "A little child like me." Well, so what? Wittow chiowd is adorable!
2. When you have 11 o'clock church and Sacrament Meeting last, you should have treats for the kids before the program. Sabrina was perfect the first hour of church (practice), a little distracted by the second hour (practice), a full-on done by the third hour (performance). It's sad, because in the practice session she really knew the songs and actions, but she was Just. Done. Sugar would have gone a long way to making her more attentive.
3. 11 is way too old to do a program with 3-year-olds. That is all.
4. I'm going to love Primary programs for the next 11 years. Then they will get boring again unless I'm in the Primary or have grandchildren in Primary. That had better not happen for at least another 25 years or so (they have to be at least 3 to be in Primary, after all). I'd better enjoy it while I can!
Friday, October 26, 2012
Post-Baby Weight Loss
Right after Raiden was born, I lost 20 pounds. Then, for the next 3 1/2 months, I lost nothing. Zero. Not an ounce. Now, I know I just had a baby, but that baby is now five months old. Too long to be up 20 pounds from before I got pregnant with him and 25 from when I got pregnant with Sabrina. I reject being fat!
In my almost four months of pretending that this weight was just going to disappear, I've realized why so many fat people dress badly. It's because they don't want to buy jeans with that big number on them. "No," they tell themselves, "I'll be back in those pre-baby jeans soon. I'll just wear sweats until then. Where's the ice cream?" Apparently, this weight ain't gonna disappear that way this time.
Way back about 13 years ago, when I lived in Alabama, I ate lunch with about four women who, by the end of the year, were all on Weight Watchers. Because apparently people on Weight Watchers can only think and talk about food, I became very conversant in Weight Watchers' method. Here is is:
By some mysterious formula, you figure out how many "points" you get to eat every day. You then do some incomprehensible thing to assign the aforementioned "points" to food, making sure not to eat more than you are allowed. Got it?
Based on the internet (where everything you read is true), you get to eat about 25-30 points per day if you are me, because I am breastfeeding. Points for food are assigned thusly: 1 point per 50 calories, plus one point for 12 grams of fat, minus one point for 5 grams of fiber.
I know Weight Watchers' success is built mostly on meetings and stuff, but I think my brain just needed to say to my body, "You're eating how much of what?" My mom does this automatically. She sees a pound cake that is 800 calories a slice (this is a real number), and says, "Get behind me, spawn of Satan!" Apparently, I have to say, "Okay, 800 calories is (mumble mumble) SIXTEEN POINTS?! GET BEHIND ME, SPAWN OF SATAN!!!!" Once I have a budget I can do it, but otherwise I'm all, "800 calories? Whatevs." Which is why my 25 pounds have remained firmly attached to my thighs, apparently.
Now, I'm not getting all anorexic, because food, yum. And I'm not getting all bulimic, because, duh. But I am getting back in those pre-baby jeans, dangit!
In my almost four months of pretending that this weight was just going to disappear, I've realized why so many fat people dress badly. It's because they don't want to buy jeans with that big number on them. "No," they tell themselves, "I'll be back in those pre-baby jeans soon. I'll just wear sweats until then. Where's the ice cream?" Apparently, this weight ain't gonna disappear that way this time.
Way back about 13 years ago, when I lived in Alabama, I ate lunch with about four women who, by the end of the year, were all on Weight Watchers. Because apparently people on Weight Watchers can only think and talk about food, I became very conversant in Weight Watchers' method. Here is is:
By some mysterious formula, you figure out how many "points" you get to eat every day. You then do some incomprehensible thing to assign the aforementioned "points" to food, making sure not to eat more than you are allowed. Got it?
Based on the internet (where everything you read is true), you get to eat about 25-30 points per day if you are me, because I am breastfeeding. Points for food are assigned thusly: 1 point per 50 calories, plus one point for 12 grams of fat, minus one point for 5 grams of fiber.
I know Weight Watchers' success is built mostly on meetings and stuff, but I think my brain just needed to say to my body, "You're eating how much of what?" My mom does this automatically. She sees a pound cake that is 800 calories a slice (this is a real number), and says, "Get behind me, spawn of Satan!" Apparently, I have to say, "Okay, 800 calories is (mumble mumble) SIXTEEN POINTS?! GET BEHIND ME, SPAWN OF SATAN!!!!" Once I have a budget I can do it, but otherwise I'm all, "800 calories? Whatevs." Which is why my 25 pounds have remained firmly attached to my thighs, apparently.
Now, I'm not getting all anorexic, because food, yum. And I'm not getting all bulimic, because, duh. But I am getting back in those pre-baby jeans, dangit!
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Halloween Cookies
Back when I was a girl, we'd head over to the Larson household every pre-Halloween, where Dean, the dad of my best friend Maren, would have made homemade root beer with dry ice, sugar cookies galore, frosting, and have bought candy. We'd spend what felt like hours decorating the Halloween cookies. Ah, good times...
In the spirit of things, I thought I'd do the same for my kids. Now, they're too young to really get into it, so I decided not to invite friends over for another year or two. While Sasha napped, Sabrina and I made the sugar cookie dough. Then, when Sasha got up, we went to the store to get Halloween cookie cutters and candy.
Snag 1: no Halloween cookie cutters. Sold out yesterday. Fine. Juuuuuust fine. We therefore made vampire bunnies (Bunnicula), fat bats, fairies, and rotund spies. Because I DO have Easter bunnies and butterflies, and Christmas angels and snowmen. Don't laugh.
Snag 2: Sasha is too young. I frosted him one cookie, which he promptly took a bite out of despite my "Put candy on it!" speech. He then ate a ton of candy and licked the spoon of frosting.
Snag 3: Sabrina is too young. Oh, she can frost cookies and put 18,227 pieces of candy on each one, but after 6 cookies she was done. Done with a capital D. That left approximately 87,926 cookies left to decorate. I did a credible job with the first half, but the last 10 (that's a real number this time) got slathered in frosting and had random candy dumped on them. They're good, at least.
Snag 4: Raiden screamed the whole time. That is all.
Still, it was a fun time, in theory and (more importantly) in memory. Happy Halloween!
In the spirit of things, I thought I'd do the same for my kids. Now, they're too young to really get into it, so I decided not to invite friends over for another year or two. While Sasha napped, Sabrina and I made the sugar cookie dough. Then, when Sasha got up, we went to the store to get Halloween cookie cutters and candy.
Snag 1: no Halloween cookie cutters. Sold out yesterday. Fine. Juuuuuust fine. We therefore made vampire bunnies (Bunnicula), fat bats, fairies, and rotund spies. Because I DO have Easter bunnies and butterflies, and Christmas angels and snowmen. Don't laugh.
Snag 2: Sasha is too young. I frosted him one cookie, which he promptly took a bite out of despite my "Put candy on it!" speech. He then ate a ton of candy and licked the spoon of frosting.
Snag 3: Sabrina is too young. Oh, she can frost cookies and put 18,227 pieces of candy on each one, but after 6 cookies she was done. Done with a capital D. That left approximately 87,926 cookies left to decorate. I did a credible job with the first half, but the last 10 (that's a real number this time) got slathered in frosting and had random candy dumped on them. They're good, at least.
Snag 4: Raiden screamed the whole time. That is all.
Still, it was a fun time, in theory and (more importantly) in memory. Happy Halloween!
Monday, October 22, 2012
In Which we go to Manila
Do you know where Manila is? Me either, and I've been there. Wait...Okay I checked a map. It's at the very northern part of eastern Utah, right inside Wyoming at the cut-out part of the Utah. To get there from Ogden, you drive into Wyoming, then out of Wyoming, and there you are.
Manila has one street, access to Flaming Gorge, three hotels, and (most importantly for our discussion here) one courthouse that is open once a month. Zane had a client who needed his services there, so we made a mini vacation out of it.
Zane called me up at about 3:30 and asked if I wanted to go on a trip to Manila. My first response, of course, was "no," and maybe even "hell, no!" if I were the swearing type. My reasons were these: I didn't want to. My day the next day was planned! Cleaning, going to Victoria's house. HOW COULD I CHANGE THESE PLANS, DAMMIT?
So, after being all reluctant, I put off the decision. Then I got used to the idea and remembered it would make Zane happy and I could be okay with not cleaning on Friday. So, we left at 6 and arrived at the swarming metropolis of Manila at about 9.
After Zane took 23 minutes (I timed it) to check in from a very thorough and friendly owner, we established ourselves in the swankiest hotel room in Manila. I know this doesn't sound like real praise, but this was a NICE place. It was a suite with super plush towels, soft bedspreads, and a sign that said "No gutting fish on property. $500 fine." Well, there are always spoilsports.
I made up a bed for Sasha on the floor, because I guarantee he would've fallen out of that very high bed. Raiden got the hideabed, and Sabrina got a queen-sized all to herself. So she curled up into a tiny ball and went to sleep.
The next day went as expected. Zane's "hour max" hearing went for three and I waited for him in the car, since the Manila park had three swings and a broken teeteer-totter and we had to leave our nice hotel room with Direct TV by 10, right when the hearing started. Still, it was a nice family outing to a place I've never been before. Anyone else want to go? (crickets)
Manila has one street, access to Flaming Gorge, three hotels, and (most importantly for our discussion here) one courthouse that is open once a month. Zane had a client who needed his services there, so we made a mini vacation out of it.
Zane called me up at about 3:30 and asked if I wanted to go on a trip to Manila. My first response, of course, was "no," and maybe even "hell, no!" if I were the swearing type. My reasons were these: I didn't want to. My day the next day was planned! Cleaning, going to Victoria's house. HOW COULD I CHANGE THESE PLANS, DAMMIT?
So, after being all reluctant, I put off the decision. Then I got used to the idea and remembered it would make Zane happy and I could be okay with not cleaning on Friday. So, we left at 6 and arrived at the swarming metropolis of Manila at about 9.
After Zane took 23 minutes (I timed it) to check in from a very thorough and friendly owner, we established ourselves in the swankiest hotel room in Manila. I know this doesn't sound like real praise, but this was a NICE place. It was a suite with super plush towels, soft bedspreads, and a sign that said "No gutting fish on property. $500 fine." Well, there are always spoilsports.
I made up a bed for Sasha on the floor, because I guarantee he would've fallen out of that very high bed. Raiden got the hideabed, and Sabrina got a queen-sized all to herself. So she curled up into a tiny ball and went to sleep.
The next day went as expected. Zane's "hour max" hearing went for three and I waited for him in the car, since the Manila park had three swings and a broken teeteer-totter and we had to leave our nice hotel room with Direct TV by 10, right when the hearing started. Still, it was a nice family outing to a place I've never been before. Anyone else want to go? (crickets)
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