andbabymakes3imean4

One mom's adventures while tap dancing on the brink of insanity with 2 babies, 11 months apart

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Checking “Baby Savings Accounts” off the To-Do List: Great Interest Rate, Not So Great Maternal Instincts

My maternity leave is up in just a couple of weeks and I have a long list of tasks to complete before I go back. They are mainly things that need to be done during business hours such as renew my health card or things that I won’t have as much time to do once I am a working mama such as open savings accounts for both babies. I decided that today would be bank account day. I tried to open bank accounts for the kids a few months ago but when the bank teller asked me for their social insurance numbers, I hadn’t even thought to bring them with me…and then as always, time escaped me. And when time didn’t escape me and I thought to get their birth certificates and social insurance numbers together, I realized that I had misplaced Miss M’s SIN card. ‘Safeplaced’ is actually a better term than misplaced.  It’s not like I have taken it somewhere and lost it.  I’ve had it in the exact same spot since receiving it in the mail shortly after she was born.  We have done some organizing and disorganizing and reorganizing and I’m sure Hubby and I had decided on a better place for it but I was pregnant on top of having baby brain and then had another baby so then had double baby brain.  And Hubby, I can call him right now as he is leaving work and ask him to pick up milk on the way home and guarantee that he will walk in empty-handed.  He forgets everything.  His memory is virtually non-existent.  In his defense, being an entrepreneur, he always has a lot on his mind and is constantly juggling a lot of balls all at once.  The “we’re out of milk” ball tends to get dropped which leaves little hope for an answer to “Do you know where Miss M’s SIN card is?”   So, while I’m sure it will turn up some day soon, I decided to replace it so we could open savings accounts today.

Both babes have been suffering from awful colds.  Green boogers, puffy, watery eyes, coughs and Miss M has had a low fever to top it off.  She is getting her 2 year molars and has had many sleepless nights as they work their way through.  As they finished their breakfast, they looked like they weren’t in any shape to go out but the clock was ticking and I figured some fresh air would do them both some good.  I cleaned up both of their snotty noses, changed both of their diapers and got them dressed.  I packed a diaper bag and ran it out to the car.   When I came back in, 22 month old Miss M had unzipped her hoodie and was holding on to each side whining “Ungh…ungh” wanting me to zip it back up.  She has recently discovered snaps and zippers.  She loves unsnapping and unzipping but can’t do them back up.  I zipped her up and then grabbed 11 month old Mr. C as he crawled past and pinned him down so I could put his socks and shoes on.  He kicked and flailed like a fish out of water until I finished and let him go.  I turned to put Miss M’s shoes on to see that she had undone the zipper on her hoodie again.  I zipped it back up and put her shoes on.  I quickly put her coat on over top so she couldn’t undo it again.  I looked at her face to see her hair stuck to the side of her face with dried up snot.  With a baby wipe, I wiped her face then ran upstairs to grab a hair elastic to keep her hair out of her face.  When I ran back down, I grabbed Mr. C then realized I had the wrong kid before putting a ponytail in his hair.  I tied Miss M’s hair back and turned to see Mr. C had pulled his shoes off.  I put them back on then realized I had no socks on myself.  I scanned the closet.  No flip flops.  The weather is finally nice enough for flip flops but mine are still downstairs in the basement.  Note to self: bring them up later.  I ran upstairs to grab a pair of socks.  When I came back down to the living room, both babes were huddled around my laptop that I had left open on the couch after looking up the government office I needed to go to in order to make sure they were open.  Miss M had pulled the letter D key off my keyboard.  It is getting more and more challenging to type with all of the keys that have been plucked off by these babies.  I grabbed it from her hand and put it on the shelf next to all four arrow keys and the comma key that need to be reinstalled someday.  I returned to grab the babies and smelled poop.  After smelling both babies’ bums, I determined that Miss M was the culprit.  We’re working on pre-toilet training potty awareness so I asked her if she had pooped.  She scowled at me as if offended by the accusation and shook her head “No!”  I cleaned her up and we were off and out the door.

We received a printout of Miss M’s social insurance number.  Apparently the government stopped issuing cards March 31st.  You literally get a piece of paper they print on a normal printer on normal paper now.  This is even more reason to find her SIN card.  Miss M was super cranky as I loaded them both back into the car then folded up the stroller and loaded it into the trunk.  We had time to get to the bank before lunch.

Hubby and I had discussed where to set up the babies’ accounts.  He had suggested setting them up at the credit union that holds our mortgage, etc. but I opted for President’s Choice Financial because of its incredible convenience, being that it is located inside of the grocery store.  I set up a chequing account with PC Financial shortly after having Mr. C and it was the best decision that I have ever made.  There is nowhere that I go more often than the grocery store.  Except for maybe the doctor’s office.  If the doctor’s office ends up housing a bank, I just might open an account there too.  Being able to go to the bank while inside of the grocery store is incredibly convenient for depositing cheques, withdrawing money, etc.  I can do all of my banking with my kids in the shopping cart while I do groceries.  No stroller.  No extra trip.  No extra loading/unloading in and out of car seats. And, now that Loblaw’s has PC points, I get free groceries for different banking transactions.  Once I explained how much easier my life is since having a bank inside the grocery store, Hubby agreed that PC Financial was the way to go.

I loaded both cranky kids into the shopping cart and in we went.   I backed the shopping cart into the bank and an incredibly kind and patient banker set up both kids with their very own savings accounts.  It is worth noting that he did not even ask me for their social insurance numbers after all of that.  They weren’t necessary.  The last time I tried to open accounts for them I was told it couldn’t be done without their social insurance numbers.  Oh well.  At least we’re getting them set up now.  As the banker and I went through all of the paperwork, both kids got a bit fussy.  I was able to keep them occupied by offering goldfish crackers.  Then when we were fresh out of goldfish crackers, I gave Miss M my phone and Mr. C my car keys.  I had left the diaper bag in the car so didn’t have any toys or books to offer.  This worked out well and kept them both entertained.  We set up their debit cards and I transferred their money into their new accounts.  I have been depositing their money from Christmas, birthdays, baptisms into my account and then keeping track with a spreadsheet for when they had their own accounts.  I must say, while it was great to see their savings accounts grow, it was also depressing to see that once I put their money into their respective accounts, my account was basically empty.  It’s a good thing I’m going back to work soon!  If there is one thing I miss about working, it is pay cheques! After looking at the closing balance of my account, I was worried I might have to ask my 11 month old son for a loan to buy groceries this week. Yikes!

With both kids in tears, I collected all of our new paperwork for our new accounts and we were on our way.  PC Financial has a promotion on right now… 2.5% interest on savings accounts until the end of June.  It was a great time to open accounts!  Plus, we also got a free bad of delicious PC Decadent Chocolate Chip cookies.  After picking up ingredients to make homemade chicken noodle soup for my little sickies, I loaded up the babes and groceries and had to stop myself from eating a whole row of chocolate chip cookies on the 5 minute drive home.

After lunch and a nap, Miss M still didn’t seem like herself.  She had a low fever and seemed really tired.  I had make homemade chicken noodle soup for dinner and she refused to eat anything. I decided to take her to the walk-in clinic just to be sure it was just a teething cold.  Normally she bounces back after an outing and some fresh air but she seemed just as tired and just as cranky as first thing this morning.  The clinic doctor examined her and diagnosed her with an ear infection in both ears and a throat infection.  He gave us a prescription for antibiotics and recommended plenty of fluids, rest and Tylenol for the fever.  I felt so bad for her and so guilty for not bringing her to the doctor sooner.

Baby Savings Accounts = Win!

Dragging Sick Baby Around on Errands All Day = Fail!

Our poor little girl was so sick and here I had dragged her to the Service Canada office and then to the bank and for groceries.  She is a trooper…and I am officially the Worst Mother Ever.

andbabymakes3imean4 is one mom’s adventures while tap dancing on the brink of insanity with 2 babies, 11 months apart.  If you liked this post, please follow my blog or like my page on facebook to be the first to know of future posts.  Thanks for reading! xo

 

 

 


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Online Toiletry Shopping: If It Makes Bath Time, Bed Time and Life Just a Tiny Bit Easier… I’ll Try It!

As we finished dinner I realized that I had forgotten to go out and buy more baby wash AGAIN! We have been out of it for almost a week.  I’ve been to the grocery store at least a million times, TarJay 3 times and the drug store once and every single time I forget to buy baby wash.  After pouring water into the bottom of the empty bottle to get the last of the suds, emptying our small bottle from our swimming lessons bag and using up all of our samples, I was totally out. We had to run out and get some more before bath time. I ran upstairs and grabbed my purse and a pair of socks then took one look at my disgustingly filthy kids and decided we were not going anywhere. We had spaghetti & meatballs for dinner and yogurt for dessert. They were both covered head to toe… literally. Since Miss M has started to eat dinner sitting at the table on a booster seat, she has no tray stopping her from sneaking her feet on to the table and into her food. She also has an obsession with putting everything on her head which includes yogurt cups, plates, etc. I would have to clean them up and change their clothes just to go out the door. Extra laundry just for the sake of baby wash?. N’uh-uh.  Not happening.
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As they finished rubbing spaghetti and yogurt all over their bodies, a lightbulb went off in my head and I grabbed my laptop and credit card and logged in to Walmart.ca. While I am not much of a Walmart fan, a few moms in my Mommy Network had talked about the convenience of ordering your cleaning products and general household items online from Walmart. They are apparently extremely quick, have free shipping, require no minimum order and it saves you having to load babies into carseats then out of carseats then into carseats then out of carseats to go to the store.  Since Mother Nature is completely off her rocker these days with snow blowing around outside two days after I got sunburned while raking the leaves we neglected in the fall, it was a good opportunity to stay in and try this out.  Success!  Free shipping.  No minimum order required…and our baby wash was on sale!

I LOVE Live Clean Baby Wash.  It’s eco-friendly, organic, sulphate-free, paraben-free, hypoallergenic and Canadian, eh!  What more could you want?  I hope my order arrives before bath time tomorrow.  If it does, I will definitely be trying this again.  A bunch of Moms in my my mom group say they order all of their cleaning supplies, dry grocery items, toilet paper, toiletry items, etc. from the Walmart website and it arrives in a box on their door step.  Talk about convenience!  They also tell me that it arrives via regular post which was good news to me.  I tried this “free shipping” thing from Walmart when they first started it last year when we purchased Miss M’s bigger girl car seat.  It didn’t go very well.  I figured it would be incredibly convenient to have it delivered since I knew the box would be huge, I was hugely pregnant and would have a baby in my cart.  If I was home when the order arrived, it would have been awesome… but I wasn’t…and it required a signature.  So, since it was delivered by courier, I had to drive up to the courier’s depot which was approximately 3x the distance of driving to our local Walmart store.  So, here’s hoping this is a better experience.  Since I have no life, I am extremely excited about it and keep checking my email to see if it has shipped yet.  Wow!  I can’t believe I just admitted to that. Meh!  I also watch for the mail man to come each day even though I’m not expecting anything except bills.  It’s adult contact and a connection with the outside world.

Once my order was placed, I stripped the babes down in the kitchen and tossed their spaghetti-covered clothes in my kitchen hamper.  (Classy, I know!)  Miss M headed for the stairs with a trail of spaghetti stuck to her foot that dropped off a little at a time on each stair.  I got the babes in the bath tub and scraped together the last of the last of the sample baby washes I had left in the house and supplemented it with some coconut oil.  Coconut oil is a beautiful thing.  What can’t you use coconut oil for?  I use it for cooking, moisturizer, diaper rash, wood polish, seasoning cast iron skillets, etc.  I could go on and on.  The babes were pretty rowdy in the tub tonight.  11 month old Mr. C is fascinated by his newly perfected ability to pull himself up on his feet.  He did just that while leaning over to drum his hands on the stainless steel garbage can while Miss M chomped her teeth into my bath pouf hanging from the tap and then pulled it, destroying it.  Why would you?  We’ll never know.  After scrubbing the orange tint from tomato sauce off of each of them, I poured water to rinse their hair.  They both slid side by side trying to push past each other to get to the tap.  It was like a pig race.  Two shiny, little bums squeaking along the sides of the tub.  After I brushed their teeth (I always brush them in the tub so they can’t run and there is less restraining required), I lifted Miss M out and covered her in a hooded towel.  She giggled as I towel dried her hair and then sat on her potty to ‘practice.’  As I cleaned up the bath toys while Mr. C splashed in the last of the bath water before it went down the drain, Miss M shouted “Bye!” from behind me.  I turned around to see her pushing her potty out of the bathroom, down the hall and into Mr. C’s room.  What a kid.  I scooped Mr. C out of the tub and wrapped him in a towel.  We went into his room to find Miss M so I could diaper her before a disaster happened.

While I got Mr. C’s pajamas out of his drawer, he and Miss M fought over parts of the potty they had disassembled on the floor of his room.  Gross.  I reminded myself that she hasn’t actually used it yet so it can’t be that germy but still…so gross.  I turned and took the potty away as they both screamed in protest.  Miss M reached up and chased me down the hall trying to grab it before I threw it back in the bathroom and closed the door while Mr. C sat on the floor screaming with his fists and jaw tightly clenched.  I wrestled him into his pajamas and asked Miss M to go get a book.  She returned with a pile of books and dumped them all over the floor then came over to my side and busily unsnapped the snaps on Mr. C’s sleeper as quickly as I snapped them.  She is currently obsessed with snaps and zippers.  I ran downstairs to make Mr. C a bottle and pour Miss M a sippy cup of milk.  As I poured her milk, I heard a thud then a squeal then a giggle.  I squinted my eyes and held my breath waiting for crying.  No crying.  Wait!  Is that good or bad?  I bolted up the stairs to find Miss M riding a crawling Mr. C like a pony, giggling with glee as he struggled to support her.  He is only 11 months old and she is 22 months old and not exactly little.  He is one tough little guy.  I’m not sure if he is tough by nature or because he is just adapting for survival.  He had a smile on his face and didn’t seem to mind her sitting on his back as he struggled to move.  While I couldn’t believe my eyes, I couldn’t help but laugh.

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I rocked Mr. C and he drank his bottle while Miss M continued to unsnap the snaps on his sleeper.  She got annoyed with his bottle being in the way of the snaps at the top of his sleeper and plucked the nipple out of his mouth so she could reach them.  He squealed as I picked her up and put her on the floor then returned his bottle and snapped him up again.  I put him to bed and told Miss M to say goodnight.  She blew kisses and yelled an enthusiastic “Bye!” as she pulled herself up on the outside wall of his crib.  We left his room and went across the hall to her room.  I opened her drawer to get her pajamas out and heard the “thud thud thud” of her running behind me followed by the “WHAM!’ of her barrelling Mr. C’s bedroom door open, flinging it into the wall.  I called for her to come back out and said goodnight to him again as I pulled his door shut.  He cried and cried as I wrestled her into her pajamas on the floor.  When I looked up to snap up the top button, I noticed Mr. C’s bottle laying on its side under her rocking chair.  The little devil had run in his room and stolen his bottle out of his crib.  No wonder he was crying!  I returned the bottle to Mr. C,  laid him back down and kissed him goodnight again.  This time I made sure his door was pulled tight so Miss M wouldn’t be able to force it open.  I ran downstairs to grab “Bee” her favourite, must-have blanket from the kitchen.  I could hear her pounding on Mr. C’s door upstairs.  Poor little guy.  I went upstairs to see that she was not pounding on his door.  She was trying to kick the door down.  I told her to “Shhh!” and that her brother was sleeping.  She mimicked me, holding her finger to her lips and saying “Shhh Kwy!” for “Quiet” as she tiptoed back to her room.

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We sat in her chair, wrapped up in “Bee” and read a book.  As I read to her, she unsnapped the top button of her pajamas and said “uh-oh” over and over again, refusing to let me continue reading until I had snapped it back up.  I began to wonder if there was really a point to finishing this story since I was the only one paying it any sort of attention.  I continued anyway, stopping after each sentence to snap up a button as she said “uh-oh! uh-oh! uh-oh!”  I finished the story, put her to bed and kissed her goodnight.  I snapped up her pajamas one last time.

As I pulled her door shut as she said “uh-oh! uh-oh!” again.  As the door shut she started shouting “Uh-oh!  UH-OH!” as if I wasn’t coming in to snap her up again because I couldn’t hear her.

She will settle down and go to sleep.  In the meantime, I will be checking to see if my Walmart order shipped yet.  If this package arrives by tomorrow I will be incredibly impressed.  The only way this service could be better would be if Walmart also shipped margaritas for free…or shipped someone to come and clean up the mountains of dried up spaghetti and smears of yogurt that I am currently pretending are not all over my kitchen floor.

 

andbabymakes3imean4 is one mom’s adventures while tap-dancing on the brink of insanity with 2 babies, 11 months apart.  If you liked this post, please consider following my blog or liking my page on facebook to be the first to know of future posts.  Thanks for reading! xo

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Dinner & Unsolicited Judgement at Chili’s: 2 for 1 Margaritas on the Rocks Make it Worth the 90 Minute Wait on the Bridge! Badadadadadadada!

Saturday night, Hubby decided he wanted to take the kids and me “over the river” to the USA for dinner at the Olive Garden. Why? Because it is delicious, inexpensive and we already needed beer and organic, homogenized milk which are also delicious and inexpensive in the USA. So, we packed up a diaper bag, a booster seat, a cooler bag full of sippy cups and snacks, our passports and loaded the babes into the car.

For the first time ever, Hubby didn’t check his “Border Buddy” app to check the wait times on the bridge before deciding to venture Stateside. Obviously, for the first time ever, we got trapped on the bridge in the longest lineup ever. It was okay at first. The kids were happy and didn’t mind the car ride. After a while, they noticed we were at a dead stop and were not happy. We played nursery rhyme CDs and sang along loudly to keep them entertained, I turned around backwards and played peek-a-boo through their carseat mirrors (since they are both in rear-facing carseats), I eyeball-measured the space between their carseats and debated trying to squeeze my butt back there but wasn’t confident I would fit…or get back out. Then I distracted them with books and snacks. I passed veggie straws and goldfish crackers back to each baby. I’m not going to lie. I was getting a little cranky and hungry myself. This was not a good idea. They were searching every car on the border. I prayed in my head that we wouldn’t get pulled in and searched… not because we have anything to hide (Well nothing illegal anyway. I’m sure there are some abandoned sippy cups with questionable contents and fallen snacks that now resemble science experiments stuck under the seats) but because if we have to take these babies out of their carseats, they were not going to get back in without a fight. Luckily, we were not searched and after 90 minutes of sitting on the bridge in the hot sun at dinner time, we were on our way.

It was now just after 6pm. Getting a table at the Olive Garden at prime time with a high chair was unlikely. I tried to think of back-up restaurants on the way there as the kids moaned and whined and I tried not to whine. We pulled into the Olive Garden parking lot to see that the entire state of New York was already there. We figured we would go in and see how long the wait was anyway. The kids both needed to get out of their carseats and stretch. Hopefully they had a table because getting them back in their carseats was not going to be an easy feat. We walked up to the hostess stand with 2 babies a diaper bag and a booster seat in tow. 45 minute wait. No thank you. There is no way these little ones will survive that long. They are normally in the tub getting ready for bed at 7pm. I cringe just thinking about what two tired and hungry babies would be like in a restaurant at 7pm. Not happening.  We walked back to the car and wrestled the babies back into their carseats.  I understand and value the importance of carseats for safety reasons but it is times like these that I wish I could just hold them on my lap while we found somewhere else to eat.  They both screamed hysterically figuring we were a) starving them and b) going to leave them back there for another 90+ minutes.  We tried to think of where to go.  There was a Chili’s next door.  We haven’t been there with the kids and I couldn’t recall if they had a decent kids’ menu.  We figured we would try it since it was close.  I decided that if it was too long of a wait, we would go across the street to Wegman’s and get a rotisserie chicken and some sides from the deli and have a picnic.  I really hoped that didn’t happen because sitting on the bridge for almost 2 hours to picnic in a parking lot with a toddler and a baby does not seem like a good time but it was a decent backup plan.  This time Hubby ran in to check while I sang and acted out “Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes” to the two kids screaming like hyenas in the backseat.

When Hubby walked out to the car, I nervously watched for the signal.  Thumbs up!  Yes!  Victory is ours!  We quickly unloaded the kids and our gear and headed in to the restaurant.  We got set up at our table and our fabulous server took the kids’ food order at the same time as our drink order so the kitchen could get started on their meal while Hubby and I figured out what we wanted to eat.  This worked out well!  Do you know what Chili’s has for a tired, hardworking mama who just put on a theatrical performance for 90 minutes to entertain two cranky babies while stuck on the bridge?  2 for 1 margaritas!  Ole!  Chili’s had a great children’s menu.  For $4.99, we could get a chicken platter which was a grilled chicken breast along with a choice of side and a cup of milk.  We chose steamed broccoli and mashed potatoes for the side but they had all kinds of great options like corn on the cob, sliced pineapple, mandarin oranges, rice and celery sticks with a ranch dip.  I was impressed.  The other great thing about Chili’s – they are lightning fast!  I was cutting up the babes’ chicken breast and broccoli into bite-sized pieces before I had even finished my first margarita… and I was thirsty!  Our meal came with an appetizer so we got the consistently delicious chips and salsa.  As I was serving mashed potatoes between both babies’ plates, Miss M surprised me and helped herself to the nacho chips.  She dunked it in the salsa and slurped it off then dunked it again and again and again.  This child does not know the rules against double-dipping.  Or triple-dipping.  Or whatever you call dipping the same soggy chip for the tenth time.  Hubby and I were pretty surprised that she liked it as it is a bit spicy.  She did.  Hubby shared his theory on how she can handle spicy food because I ate Thai food and other spicy stuff when I was pregnant.  Maybe he is right.  I don’t cook overly plain for either of the kids.  I want them to develop a palette for different flavours but I am cautious about spicy food simply because they eat with their hands and I worry about them getting it in their eyes.  Miss M ate an impressive amount of spicyish salsa before we stopped her so she would eat her own meal.

Just like the Olive Garden, Chili’s was extremely family-oriented, with our server automatically bringing us side plates for dividing the kids’ food and a stack of napkins without us having to ask.  Servers popped by to chat with the kids and make us feel welcome and not like a nuisance…the way you can feel at some other restaurants when you walk in with two babies.  We enjoyed a tasty meal in a great atmosphere.  As Hubby and I were halfway through our meals, both kids started to get a bit fussy.  I pulled out my iphone and played an episode of Dora the Explorer for Miss M.  She quickly grabbed my phone, closed the video and opened her preschool app which shows 3 animals and says “Where is the dog?” etc.  She has learned so much from this little app and loves it.  Mr. C was fussy as well so I bounced  him on my lap while Hubby cut up my steak for me so I could finish eating my dinner with one hand.  I started to get that feeling like someone was looking at me.  I looked up to see a table of 4 adjacent to us turned, looking at us and scowling as they muttered amongst themselves.  The kids weren’t being loud and were under control but in case we were disrupting them, I took Mr. C for a walk around the restaurant when he started to fuss again.  Miss M was content playing with the phone.  I sat back down with a happy Mr. C and noticed that this table of 4 was still scowling at us.  Then I heard one of the woman remark to who I assume was her husband that it was “absolutely disgusting that a baby be playing with a phone.”  I couldn’t believe it!  I calmed myself down and ignored the comment given that it wasn’t directed at me and these two couples were dressed like they belonged to a religion that did not support the use of technology.  They were entitled to their opinions and beliefs.  However, for the sake of not disturbing this entire restaurant, Miss M would be playing with my phone because it was keeping her quiet and occupied.  She was having a blast laughing and imitating the sound the chicken/cow/horse made as she pressed each one.

As these four diners paid their bill and walked past us to leave, one of the women remarked ‘That is totally disgusting!” as she passed Miss M and me.  Hubby didn’t hear it and with my back to them, I couldn’t be 100% sure it was directed at me…though I am 99.9% sure it was.  My blood was boiling but I let it go.  I wasn’t about to allow one person’s dark cloud to steal our sunshine.  I can’t stand people who pass judgement on other parents.  I certainly am not the best mother or a perfect mother… but I am the best mother at mothering MY kids.  Not your kids or your kids or even your kids…just MY OWN!  I know what is best for them and I know what works for us.  As mothers, we need to stand together and support each other; not point fingers, criticize and pass judgement.  Ugh.  Rant over.

We made a quick stop at TarJay to stock up on beer and homo milk before heading for the bridge.  Drinks for the whole family!  We were also extremely excited to discover that Target USA now has a knock-off, store brand of Diaper Genie refills.  We were pretty happy with this find.  Our excitement over knock-off diaper genie refills can be directly correlated to our lack of life.  We bought one to try!  Here’s hoping it works well!  Stay tuned.

On the way home, the kids were tired and fussy so we fired up the baby tunes again.  I belted out the lyrics to “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt” as Miss M joined in for the “Badadadadadadada” part.  Hubby isn’t as used to driving while listening to the kid beats as I am.  His jaw was clenched and he looked like his eye balls were about to explode.  I turned down the music and said “You can say it!”  He said “Say what?”  to which I replied “You can say how much of a turn-on my amazing singing is!”  Without skipping a beat, Hubby said “Yes!  Please sing Jingleheimer louder!  That’s it! So hot!”

Badadadadadadada!

 

andbabymakes3imean4 is one mom’s adventures while tap dancing on the brink of insanity with 2 babies, 11 months apart.  If you liked this blog post, please consider following my blog or liking my page on facebook to be the first to know of future posts.  Thanks for reading! xo

 

 

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Summertime… and the Livin’ is Easy… (Because Dinner Messes can be Cleaned up with a Hose!)

What a beautiful weekend! Warm days filled with sunshine and blue skies meant for lots of outdoor play! I spent a ridiculous amount of time raking up all of the leaves we had neglected to clean up in the fall while 11 month old Mr. C had his first ride in the baby swing and 22 month old Miss M ran around in her rain boots chasing after a ball, kicking the leaves and trying to escape from our fenceless yard. (Project for Summer 2014: Fence this yard in!) Over the past week, Miss M and I have had many debates over her rain boots. Every time I ask her if she wants to wear her boots, she looks at me like I’m crazy and sternly says “Shoes!” as she pulls the boots from my hands. We go back and forth “Boots! Shoes! Boots! Shoes! Boots! Shoes!” She does not understand why I am calling her rain boots, “Boots.” To her, “Boots” is a monkey, Dora the Explorer’s number 1 sidekick. Thanks for that one, Nickelodeon!

With Hubby’s help, we managed to clean up and baby proof the yard as well as set up our patio furniture and all of the kids’ outdoor play equipment. The babes enjoyed digging and flinging sand at the sand table and Miss M booted all over the yard pushing her bubble mower. At one point, Mr. C caught up to her and climbed on to the mower. Miss M stomped around the mower with the dirtiest look on her face, whining “Coleyyy!” as she pushed him off of it and carried on with her mowing.  When she stopped to play on the slide, chase a ball, returned to the sand table, I would turn off the neglected bubble mower to save the batteries and get a break from the annoying purring sound of its “engine.”  Miss M would notice the absence of noise right away and would run over to turn it back on then walk away to continue what she was doing.

We decided to barbeque for dinner and eat outside for the first time this year.  I washed the patio table and dragged the high chair and booster seat outside while Hubby attempted to keep a curious almost one-year old and almost two-year old away from the hot barbeque. Out of the whole yard, they both wanted to be right in front  of the barbeque. Hubby distracted the babes from the grill by encouraging them to play at the sand table.  An hour earlier, we had made the executive decision to empty the water from the side that holds water after Miss M used each pail and shovel to pour the sandy water into her mouth and drink it. Disgusting. By the time dinner was ready, Mr. C was covered from head to toe in sand. A benefit to nice weather and playing outside is that I could strip him down on the patio and shake out his clothes before putting clean clothes on (for him to cover with food while eating dinner…better than mixing sand in with his meal though!) I wiped the goatee of sand from his chin and sat him in the highchair while Hubby strapped Miss M into her booster seat. She is just starting to eat while sitting at a booster at the table. (Up until 2 days ago, she would eat at booster seat with an attached tray.) Eating outside could make this a bit easier in terms of cleaning up messes. Both kids were so excited to be eating in the backyard and spent most of the meal looking up at the sky and following the sounds of birds tweeting in the trees above us. Miss M excitedly threw her plate on the ground three times during dinner. To my amazement, Hubby instantly got up and grabbed the broom and swept up her fallen food off the patio each time. Funny how that works. I can scrub the kitchen floor on my hands and knees and watch as he is completely unaffected by the spills and thrown food that happen before the floor even dries. But, he spends 3 minutes sweeping the patio before dinner and suddenly the overspray from dinner a mess that needs to be attended to immediately. Hmm.

Being extremely fair-skinned and resistant to any hat I have managed to wrestle on to his head, Mr. C was at risk of getting sunburned as the sun peeked out from behind a cloud and shone down on the back of his head. Hubby retrieved the patio umbrella from the shed and set it up in the middle of the table mid-meal to shade him. Mr. C was terrified of this giant, unknown thing opening up above him.  He started shaking and crying in fear, his eyes darting between Hubby and me looking for reassurance.  I calmed him down as Hubby bent the umbrella to block the sun from our little man’s blonde-haired head.  Miss M thought it was the greatest thing ever and reached across the table, grabbed the umbrella stand and started spinning it around in circles.  She giggled and giggled and only giggling louder when she saw how much the spinning umbrella was terrifying her baby brother.

When we finished dinner, I brought the dishes inside before they were thrown everywhere and started a bath for our two sandy, greasy, saucy, filthy babies.  I walked out the back door playfully saying “Mommy has a nice warm bubble bath for one dirty, stinky girl and one dirty, stinky boy!”  Mr. C giggled in his seat and clapped saying “Bah!” for “bath.”  Miss M giggled and reached forward for the umbrella.  Since we were standing behind her when she leaned forward, both Hubby and I immediately noticed the diarrhea escaping from her diaper and oozing up her back.  (She is on antibiotics for a throat and ear infection.  She is feeling better but is now getting diarrhea from the antibiotics.)  Hubby laughed as he quickly unbuckled Mr. C saying “I think Mommy gets the dirty, stinky girl!  She’s all yours!  I will take the stinky boy!”  Well played.  Since we were outside, I was able to strip her down and clean her up without taking that mess into the house.  When I picked her up to bring her inside for her bath, she squealed and kicked in protest.  She is trying really hard to talk and was babbling something foreign to us.  She was frustrated that we didn’t understand what she was saying.  I put her little, naked body down on the ground, figuring she wanted to walk inside by herself.  As soon as her feet hit the ground, she took off and ran across the yard completely naked and free.  She giggled with joy and ran for the slide.  Hubby and I watched and laughed.  Seeing life through the eyes of a child is a truly heartwarming thing.  She climbed up her Little Tikes slide and paused at the top, still totally naked.  A look of uncertainty waved over her face.  “C’mon!  One slide and then we will have a bath!” I called to her.  She still paused, scowling at us.  “Let’s go!  One time down the slide!” Hubby shouted as she stood still at the top.  Then she looked up and uttered “Woah!”  We quickly realized why she had paused.  A stream of pee trickled down her leg and down the slide.  She looked up with a big smile on her face and shouted “Poopy!”  “No Honey!  That’s pee!” Hubby and I corrected her in unison over our laughter.  She is still learning the difference between poo and pee.  Peeing down the slide.  That’s a new one!  Our days are always full of surprises!

The grand finale to dinner outside was Miss M proceeding to slide down the pee-covered slide with her naked bum sticking to the plastic the whole way. Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!  That couldn’t have felt good.  What a kid!  She ran back to us and proudly walked inside the house, up the stairs and climbed into the tub herself.  Once the babes were bathed, in pajamas, read their bedtime stories, served their bedtime milk and were tucked into bed, the rest of dinner clean up was a breeze.  I hosed down the high chair, the booster seat, the table the dirty baby clothes and the poor, peed-on slide.  Life is just better with summer weather.

 

andbabymakes3imean4 is one mom’s adventures with 2 babies, 11 months apart.  If you liked this post, please follow my blog or like my page on facebook to be the first to know of future posts.  Thanks for reading! xo

 

Meltdown:  Boob bottle or bust!


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Tantrums & Tragedy: 24 Hours of Terror at the Hand of a Missing Boob Bottle

Mr. C will be one year old in less than 3 weeks. Once he is one, we will be replacing formula with homo milk. He will also be starting to go to daycare so I have been working really hard to get him to start drinking from a sippy cup. He is a very particular little guy. We had a terrible time trying to get him to drink from a bottle. The only bottle that he would take (after a ridiculous amount of time and perseverance was the Mimijumi Very Hungry baby bottle.  My sister bought it for him after hearing breastfeeding moms rave about it when she worked at a baby boutique years ago.  This bottle is the most like a boob in its appearance, texture and form.  Babies are able to drink from it exactly the same as they do while breastfeeding, rather than having to suck with other bottles.  I would recommend it to anyone trying to supplement while breastfeeding or transition baby from breast to bottle.  This bottle saved my life.  It was and is still the only bottle Mr. C will drink from.  He is extremely strong-willed and stubborn and would go on a hunger strike before he would drink from any other bottle or cup.  He wanted boob only which was nerve-racking when I was scheduled for surgery to get my gallbladder removed and figured he would starve to death while I was unable to feed him.  The Mimijumi Very Hungry bottle was the perfect solution.  Mr. C loved it…well, not as much as he loved boob, but it was an acceptable second runner-up.  Now that he has transitioned from breast milk to formula, it is still his favourite bottle.

Mr. C always has a bottle as I rock him and sing to him before putting him to bed each night.  In the past couple weeks, he has gotten into the habit of taking the bottle into his crib with him.  He hasn’t been feeling all that great and I think sucking on it soothes him.  He has never been one for soothers.  He refused a soother 1000x worse than he refused the 8 million bottles I tried to feed him before finding his favourite; which we now fondly refer to as his boob bottle.  If you haven’t seen one, this is what it looks like:

mimijumi

Last night was like every other night in the past couple of weeks.   Mr. C clutched his bottle tightly and took it to bed with him.  I kissed him goodnight and pulled his door shut.  When I heard him babbling away in his room this morning, I let Miss M run across the hall and push his door open.  She excitedly shouted his name like she does every morning as she ran to his crib.  The door flung open to reveal his smiling face as he stood proudly bouncing up and down as he held onto his crib rails, saying an enthusiastic “Hi!.”  I got him up, changed his diaper and then Miss M’s and brought them down for breakfast.  Once they were in their seats with some toast buttered with peanut butter and a banana, I ran upstairs to retrieve his boob bottle from his bed.  It wasn’t there.  Strange.  I picked up his blankets and shook them out.  I checked to see if he had pushed it in between the mattress and the crib rails.  I looked under his crib and around it in case he had thrown it.  It was nowhere to be found.

Not wanting to leave the babes unattended with food on their trays, I came back downstairs and filled a sippy cup with milk for Miss M and another sippy cup with formula for Mr. C.  Because we don’t have another option, he is going to have to start drinking from a sippy cup.  Today is the day.  When I put  the cup on his tray, he happily picked it up and took a sip.  When he realized it was formula inside, he spit it out, glared at me and threw the cup on the floor.  I picked it up and tried to encourage him to drink from it.  I clapped and cheered when he tried again.  Once again, as soon as he took a sip and tasted the formula, he spit it out and threw the cup down.  He is so particular.  He knows how to drink from a cup.  He will happily drink water and smoothies from a cup.  However, for a little guy with a 7 word vocabulary, he is very clear in expressing his dislike for formula in anything except his boob bottle.

While the babes munched on their breakfast, I blended up a green smoothie.  Mr. C smiled as the Baby Bullet loudly mixed the ingredients together.  This is a victory.  We have been working on this one.  He is absolutely petrified of loud sounds made by the Baby Bullet, blender, food processor, electric hand mixer, vacuum cleaner, power tools, etc.  He  is so afraid that he shaked in fear when I use the Baby Bullet to make smoothies each morning.  Over the past week, I have put fun music on before I’m ready to blend and then as it mixes, I sing and cheer and dance like a crazy person with an over-exaggerated smile to prove to him that the sound is okay and I am okay.  Miss M usually joins in and laughs and claps.  Now, after a week of doing this crazy blending ritual, he seems to understand that it’s okay.  He didn’t cry.  He just smiled and looked at me like he knew that sound meant “smoothie” and my kids love smoothies.  I divided the smoothie between the 3 of us and Mr. C happily downed the entire smoothie from the sippy cup without any issue.

Later in the morning, he grew restless wanting a bottle.  I had turned the house upside down looking anywhere and everywhere the bottle might be without any luck.  I had dressed him on our bed that morning so looked under it, under all of the pillows and duvet.  I figured that Miss M may have picked it up so checked her room and under her crib.  The only thing I found was an old sippy cup half-filled with milk that now resembled cottage cheese.  Gross.  I tried to get Mr. C to drink formula from a sippy cup again, figuring that if he wanted it enough, he would give in and drink it from a cup.  I tried different types of cups again.  He refused all of them.  It is absolutely mind-blowing how stubborn this little guy can be when it comes to his bottle.  He got so upset with me only offering cups that he threw himself on the ground, crying hysterically, hitting his head on the floor in rage.  Tiny man, huge temper.  It was a full-blown temper tantrum.  Wow.  I picked him up off the floor and tried to comfort him but he was so mad, he couldn’t settle down.  I put him in the high chair and distracted him with some lunch while I searched the same places over and over again trying to find his bottle.  I had hoped that since the bottle had disappeared that he would be up for quitting “cold turkey.”  This did not appear to be the case and I couldn’t find it anywhere to settle him down.

Meltdown:  Boob bottle or bust!

Meltdown: Boob bottle or bust!

After lunch, I tucked him into bed with a sippy cup of formula.  He cried and cried, throwing the cup against the side of his crib in protest.  I apologized and told him I couldn’t find his bottle.  I searched high and low while hoping he would settle down and drink from the cup.  He had eaten a good lunch and drank water from a cup so he wasn’t hungry or thirsty.  He just wanted his bottle.  After 15 minutes or so, I decided he wasn’t going to give in and made some formula in a Playtex bottle that he normally rejects.  If it would settle him down and let him get some sleep, it was worth it.  The poor little guy was so upset.  When I opened his bedroom door to offer it to him, he was just starting to catch his breath and was drinking from the sippy cup!  He did give in!  Success!  However, as soon as he turned and saw me with a bottle in hand, he climbed up on his feet and starting crying as he reached out for the bottle.  Had I waited another 30 seconds, he would have settled himself down and drank from his cup.  Oh well.  You win some, you lose some.  He examined the bottle and while it wasn’t his favourite, he decided it was better than nothing and sucked away on it and fell asleep.

When my husband came home, I told him about the tantrums and the missing bottle and how I was about to lose my mind over the boob bottle mystery.  He confidently told me that he would find it and wandered off, chuckling under his breath.  He is lucky I showed self control and didn’t strangle him over his arrogance and belittling of today’s tragedy.  I realize that is sounds ridiculous to be completely stressed out over a frickin’ boob bottle but had he seen the tantrums and heard the screaming, he would understand the severity of the crisis at hand.  When he came back empty-handed, his confidence had faded.  We tucked Mr. C into bed that night with his “second best” bottle.  He again, looked at it disappointedly but took it, figuring again, that it was better than nothing.

We had one last search for the boob bottle then turned in for the night.  When I woke up in the morning, my husband was standing over me, with a huge smile on his face and the boob bottle in his hand!  I jumped up, feeling a knot in the side of my back, exclaiming “Wow!  Where was it?”  He said “It was the strangest thing.  You fell asleep and I turned to put my arm around you and the boob bottle rolled out from under you.  I think it was tucked into the duvet the whole time.”

Two days later, my back still hurts from sleeping on the damn thing but Mr. C is happily reunited with his boob bottle.

 

andbabymakes3imean4 is one mom’s adventures while tap dancing on the brink of insanity with 2 babies, 11 months apart.  If you liked this post, please subscribe to my blog or like my page on facebook to be the first to know of future posts.  Thanks for reading! xo

 

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Baby Gas: There’s Nothing Quite Like Broccoli & Peppers to Shake Up a Quiet Night!

Last night, Hubby was home for dinner for the first time in quite a while.  He has been working incredibly long days so I decided to make a nice steak dinner for him to enjoy when he got home.  We are finally seeing signs of spring so I ran outside and fired up the barbeque.  In order to keep the little ones occupied and safe so I could run in and out to check on the grill, I sat them in their seats in the kitchen with a snack and set the ipad up to play a Super Simple Songs playlist.  Both babies absolutely love these songs.  They capture their full attention and they wiggle and groove in their seats as they watch.  Hilariously, Mr. C gets so concerned at the end of each song.  He starts saying “Uh-oh!” over and over again with a look of panic on his face, looking between me and the ipad as if to say “Mom!  You have to fix it!” and then smiles and relaxes as the next song starts.

Both babies love steak dinner.  Who doesn’t?  Mr. C devoured baked potato, sautéed broccoli and red peppers and steak.  Miss M hasn’t been feeling all that well this week so she didn’t eat much at all.  She has had restless nights, low fevers and loss of appetite.  I finally identified the issue when I saw one of her 2 year molars peeking through her gums when I brushed her teeth a couple of days ago.  Teething is so rough.  This little girl just can’t seem to catch a break.  I sliced up some cheddar cheese just to get her to eat something.  She loves cheese.  As soon as she saw me take the brick of cheese out of the fridge, her face lit up and she exclaimed “Cheese!” a new, more proper pronunciation of the word.  Up until yesterday, she had always called it “chiz.”  She is really growing up quickly.

After dinner, we had an appointment to attend that was a 30 minute drive away.  Hubby and I worked together to get both babes cleaned up.  A fresh sweater for Miss M since she had smeared Greek yogurt from her baked potato all over it and clean pants for Mr. C since he had piled half of his dinner in his lap.  Miss M frantically wailed “Bee! Bee!” as she got to the car, realizing we had forgotten her blanket.  I ran in to grab it to avoid a meltdown.  We buckled the babes into their car seats and off we went.  Mr. C was restless in his car seat.  While Hubby drove, I spent most of the drive turned around backwards, reaching back to tickle him and play peek-a-boo with him in the mirror.  On the way home, he was even more restless.  He screamed hysterically the entire way.  Nothing would soothe him; not my passenger seat theatrics, not any of the kids’ music CDs in the car, not his sippy cup.  Nothing.  Miss M sat quietly in her car seat with her blanket bunched up around her and her thumb in her mouth.  She was exhausted.  I managed to gain some temporary relief from the screaming and settle him down by handing him my water bottle.  I remember doing the same thing with Miss M.  There is something about how tall it is with water swooshing back and forth inside the clear walls that mesmerizes them.

When we got home, Miss M was a bit cranky.  She didn’t eat any dinner so I brought her into the kitchen to give her a snack figuring she would be hungry now or during the night if she didn’t get something into her tummy.  Mr. C had a snack too because he’s a tank and regardless of how much he ate at the last meal, would never say no to food.  He was still a bit out of sorts.  We suspected he was tired and didn’t appreciate spending an hour in his car seat after dinner instead of the usual walk around the neighbourhood and bath.  Miss M ate some apple, peanut butter on crackers and raisins.  Mr. C ate the same.  As I peeled the lid off of a cup of yogurt and handed it to her, I remarked to Hubby that they were really tired and were actually pretty clean, so perhaps after they finished their snack, we could skip bath time tonight.  No sooner had I uttered those words, then Miss M scooped one spoonful of yogurt into her mouth and then flipped the container upside down onto her head, laughing as she wore it as a little hat..with yogurt dripping down her hair and cheeks.  Scrap that.  I’ll start the tub.  That girl is in a new phase where everything goes on her head during meal time.  She pulls her bib off and wears it on her head, her plate, food, anything she can get her little sticky hands on ends up on her head.

After their baths, both babes went down to bed easily.  Hubby read Miss M her bedtime story while I rocked and read a book to Mr. C.  They were exhausted and went right to sleep.  Hubby and I decided that since he was home at a reasonable time, that we would have a mini, at-home date night.  We ate nachos and enjoyed a couple of beers.  About 2 hours later, Mr. C woke up screaming at the top of his lungs.  We both paused, speechless, holding our breath, staring at the stairs for a few seconds to decipher what the scream meant and if he would fall back asleep.  No.  It was a panicked scream, like he was in pain.  I ran upstairs and expected to open the nursery door to find Mr. C standing up in his crib.  He wasn’t.  He was still lying down, his sleepy eyes barely open, crying in pain.  I picked him up and his tired eyes tried to adjust to see me.  His back arched and his tummy was hard.  He had gas pains.  Gas pains are the worst.  Poor little guy.  I immediately felt guilty, recalling the evening and realizing that he ate a bunch of broccoli and peppers and then sat still in his car seat for an hour tonight.  That in itself was recipe for disaster.  As I carried him down the stairs so he wouldn’t wake up Miss M, he let out a couple man-sized toots but it wasn’t enough.  I laid him on the couch between Hubby and I and started pumping his legs like he was riding a bike and rubbing his tummy.  Hubby tried to make him laugh to distract him from the pain but was unsuccessful.  He tried to offer him a bottle but it was quickly swatted away.  After 10 minutes or so of leg pumping, I asked Hubby to run a warm bath for him.  Gas pains are awful.  They hurt so bad, little ones don’t understand and as a parent, you feel so helpless watching your baby in such agony.  A warm bath should offer some relief.

We went upstairs with a still hysterical Mr. C, arching his back in pain.  I knew he wasn’t going to get into the bath tub by himself so I handed him to Hubby, stripped down myself, took him back and got in the tub with him.  I sat him on my lap and poured warm water over his swollen belly with a  wash cloth while Hubby tried to distract him with an Elmo bath toy.  It worked.  The warm water offered him some relief and he started to relax.  Hubby stood Elmo on the side of the bath tub then flicked him into the tub exclaiming “Woah! Elmo had a big dive!”  Mr. C immediately stopped crying and started laughing through his teary eyes.  I continued to pour warm water down his tummy and Hubby continued with his 1 man (1 puppet?) theatrical performance.  Mr. C started letting out all kinds of gas and it bubbled up to the surface of the water.  It’s funny how you get desensitized to things like this after a little time in motherhood.  Here I was sitting in the tub, feeling relieved (not disgusted) to see baby fart bubbles all around me.  And here was my husband, on his knees at the side of the tub playing with an Elmo bath toy, making our son crack up while it happened.

We got out of the tub and Hubby diapered and dressed Mr. C while I got dressed myself.  Mr. C was a new man.  He felt great!  Thank goodness.  The bath had worked.  I apologized to him for feeding him gassy veggies and then strapping him in a seat.  He seemed forgiving.  He felt so great that there was no way he was going to bed.  We brought him downstairs and let him play for a little bit to work out any other gas he might have and let him relax a bit.  I think he was incredibly excited to have Mommy and Daddy all to himself while his sister slept.  He was so happy and giggly, crawling back and forth between us then standing up banging on the end table, trying to pull the lamp off.  (He already has a nasty purple bruise on his forehead from trying to do the same thing earlier in the day.)  He had the time of his life while Hubby and I sat, staring at him, energy depleted, beer warm on the table, our bed calling our name.  We were tired.  It was almost midnight, after all.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

After he had burned off some energy, we brought Mr. C up to his crib and tucked him in.  He happily obliged and went right to sleep.

This was an interesting twist on an at-home date night.  Who knew a few baby farts could be so disruptive?

Sweet dreams little man!

Sweet dreams little man!

andbabymakes3imean4 is one mom’s adventures while tap dancing on the brink of insanity with 2 babies, 11 months apart.  If you liked this post, please subscribe to my blog or like my page on facebook to be the first to know of future posts.  Thanks for reading! xo

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One Mama, Two Babies: Workin’ on our Fitness

Today was beautiful, sunny and the second day of spring. As the little one enjoyed their green smoothies, I charged my ipod, located my earphones and got dressed, wearing 3 (yes 3!) bras… when you are chesty to begin with and then breastfeed 2 babies in one year, you will understand the need. The sky was bright, the sidewalks were clear… today we were going to start running.  Mama’s doing a 5k race this year no matter what!

After googling our awesome double stroller last night, I discovered that it is a jogging stroller.  Excellent.  What is the most shocking about this discovery is that I’m pretty sure I already knew this when we purchased it but last summer Mr. C was a newborn so it wasn’t safe to jog with him on board and then…. I forgot.  This is not surprising since just this morning I handed 22 month old Miss M her sippy cup of milk and was shocked to see it leak all over the  place wondering what had happened, seconds after wondering how I ended up with an extra valve (that prevents leaking) sitting on the stove.  I forgot to put it in…duh.  And yesterday, I brewed coffee without putting water in the coffee maker.  And the day before I boiled the kettle to make 11 month old Mr. C  a bottle but… when I flipped the switch on the  kettle to get it to boil, I neglected to realize that it was not on the electric base that would make it boil.  And the day before that, I took a hot casserole dish out of the oven, took my oven mitts off and used my bare hands to life the piping hot lid off.  Ugh.  Reasons number 996, 997, 998 and 999 as to why I am going to get fired from my job within a month of returning.  Mommy brain/baby brain is REAL.  My brain doesn’t work anymore.  It’s scary.  But in the case of discovering that a stroller I bought because it doubled as a jogging stroller was, in fact,  a jogging stroller, my terrible memory and mediocre brain activity worked to my advantage and surprised me (in a good way!)

We finished up breakfast and I loaded the stroller, the diaper bag, a sippy cup for each babe, a water bottle for me and my ipod/earphones into the car before putting socks, shoes, coats and hats on both babes and loading them into their car seats.  Who needs a pre-workout warm-up when you do all of this just to get started?  I got in the car and cranked the tunes.  “Wheels on the Bus” came on right away.  There is nothing like music like this to make you feel like you are losing your mind.  Try turning left at a busy intersection with “Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes” repeating at an unheard of pace.  I would dare you except that it wouldn’t be safe.  Just mute it, make your turn and then carry on with “Eyes, Ears, Mouth and Nose.”

As I climbed into the driver’s seat, the leather interior was freakishly colder than normal.  I looked down to see a hole along the seam of the inner thigh of my yoga pants.  I was instantly outraged as I knew I had bought these pants less than a year ago.  I bought them at Costco; one of two places I tend to buy clothes, there and Zehrs.  The two places I predominantly buy my groceries.  Coincidence?  I think not.  I was mad about these yoga pants lasting less than a year until I recalled the last year and remembered that I had worn them a minimum of 3 times/week.  Considering I paid $15 for them almost a year ago, I think it’s safe to say I’ve got my money’s worth.  It’s also funny to think that my wardrobe consists of mainly yoga pants and yet I have not done yoga in over 3 years.  Ironic.  Needless to say, after strapping two babies into their carseats and loading their luggage, I wasn’t about to unload them in order to go change so off we went, crotch hole and all.

Today we were ambitiously hitting the track!  I started using the C25K app by Bluefin Apps under the recommendation of an experienced running friend.  It stands for “Couch to 5k” meaning you can be totally inactive and this app will guide you through training for running a 5K race.  I had to stop because of medical issues last year.  It was disappointing but I’m alive and without a gallbladder now, and ready to tackle it.

I pulled in to the parking lot of our city’s running track and parked my mom-mobile near a stroller-accessible ramp to the track.  It was pretty brisk and cold but sunny outside and the track wasn’t busy.  I opened my trunk,  pulled out the stroller, secured the wheels to a stationary, jogging-friendly position then unloaded both babies and buckled them into their stroller seats.  Miss M immediately started shrieking “Bee! Bee!” which is her word for blanket.  She is extremely attached to only ONE of her 8 crocheted blankets.  I’m glad I had brought it and tucked it around her.  I brought it even though it smelled like pee when I got her up this morning and she automatically grabbed it to ensure it was lifted out of the crib with her.  That’s right! “Bee” smells like pee.  I just washed it 2 days ago.  I have no idea what she does to that blanket to get it so dirty and so stinky so fast but I have to basically put on a one-man theatre show in order to distract her as I steal it and throw it in the washing machine before it becomes a biohazard.

We bundled up and headed for the track.  As we reached the track, I adjusted the visors on the stroller so the sun wouldn’t be in the babies’ eyes.  A man walking the track stopped and asked “Do you have twins?”  As if I was a record on repeat, I replied “No, they aren’t twins.  They are 11 months apart!” to which he responded “How many laps do you plan on doing?” I’m sorry, what? I thought.  “I don’t know!  As many as they can handle!” I jokingly replied.  “You mean as many as YOU can handle!” he shot back.  What the… While this might be true, isn’t one of the perks of having kids the fact that you can blame them for what you can’t/don’t want to do.  For example, “I so wish I could run another 10k but the babies are tired.”  “I so wish I could listen to you, random stranger, talk about your parenting philosphies, but someone just pooped.”  I don’t even know what to say to you, track buddy, so I will just smile and pretend you didn’t speak as I put my earphones in and press PLAY.

Off we went.  Day 1 of C25K training.  First time ever while pushing a stroller.  It went really well.  I actually enjoyed pushing the stroller.  I’m a beginner at running and in some weird way, appreciated having the stroller to push as I ran  because it forced me to support my upper body more than I normally would.  Mr. C started to fuss and turn his head to look up to me as we went through a period of walking.  I comforted him by saying “Hi Buddy!  You’re doing great!” coincidentally as we passed a guy who was walking the track.  He turned, awkwardly, thinking I was talking to him.  When he saw me with the double stroller of munchkins, a look of relief waved over him.  It’s amazing how a stroller with two babies and earphones playing loud music can make you tune out the rest of the world.  That was an awkward tune-in with reality.  But, shoutout to the guy walking the track today: Hey Buddy!  You really ARE doing great!  (When did it become weird to greet and compliment each other?  Humans are so strange.)

Halfway through the workout, I felt tightness in my chest like I couldn’t breathe.  I tried to brush it off and continue but at one point felt burning and a blood-like taste when I coughed.  I suffered from sports-induced asthma as a child and worried it was coming back.  On top of that I was out of shape.  When I couldn’t catch my breath and started to get a bit dizzy, I decided that was enough for today.  As I pushed the stroller back to the car, Mr. C started crying.  He too, had had enough.  I took my earphones out.  As I did, I dropped them and the cord got tangled around the wheel of the stroller as it rolled.  Ugh.  I stopped to untangle it as I struggled to catch my breath and looked around the park.  No one was around.  I still felt dizzy and a heaviness in my chest.  Because it was cold, my water bottle was too, so drinking some water didn’t help.  I leaned against the car for a minute to regroup.  The dizziness faded and I loaded both babies and then the stroller into the car.  I then got in the car, still feeling unwell and wondered who to call.  The advantage to going to the track mid-morning is that no one else is there.  The disadvantage is that everyone is working when you need help.  Hubby was out of town on business and anyone else I could think of in-town was unavailable.

After a few minutes, I decided I was okay to drive but being paranoid, decided to stop by my parents’ house on the way home just in case something happened.  My biggest fear is having a medical emergency while alone with two babies.  I suffered quite a few major gallbladder attacks while home alone caring for two babies and it was awful.  I decided that being there was better than being home alone with the babes until I knew I was okay.  I always prepare for the worst so was cautious about having a heart attack. While I did have scarlet cheeks, burning lungs and some dizziness, I was fine.  We visited for an hour, just long enough for the kids to trash my mom’s kitchen while they ate lunch instead of mine and then we headed home.  That worked out well!

I suppose I just needed to clear the cobwebs out of my lungs.  The air was a little too cold for me today.  Aside from my respiratory issues, my body feels great from having a short jaunt.  I was thinking about going back to finish the workout this afternoon but stopped myself.  While it was fun and while I want to fast-forward to a more fit “me,” I need to take it a step at a time.  We substituted returning to the track with taking Mr. C out for a walk around the neighbourhood in the single stroller while Miss M walked.  Mr. C waved to every person he saw while Miss M enjoyed watching her shadow in the pavement as she walked beside me, holding my hand.  Kids truly do make you appreciate the simple things you would otherwise take for granted.

I’m looking forward to finishing up our week 1, day 1 workout soon!

andbabymakes3imean4 is one mom’s adventures while tap dancing on the brink of insanity with 2 babies, 11 months apart.  If you liked this post, please subscribe to my blog or like my page on facebook to be the first to know of future posts.  Thanks for reading! xo

 

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