Yet another exclamation

There's a reason they added the exclamation mark when they made him into a musical.
I find that most of the time I say Sir O's name out loud, it's exclamatory.
And when it involves physical danger I say it twice in a row, with extra exclamation.
And usually a subsequent "argh" under my breath.

In 1979...

Not only was Mr Renn born, but the movie The Black Stallion was released.
Yesterday Sir O watched it 3 times in a row.
I think he's in love.

I always hoped my kids would love this movie. It's perfect for the not-entirely-verbal set because the first 40 minutes of the movie contain less than 5 minutes of dialogue. It's all visual communication, which is exactly what they understand.

Besides which, it was fantastic to have something non-{obnoxious &} animated hold his attention.

Tender mercy, wanted to share.

Awww..

try, try, try

Sir O's static-filled hair after spending a good portion of the morning with his head under 3+ blankets

Determined to avoid a repeat of yesterday's entropy, I decided today would be fun.
Sometimes you have to be flexible with your fun.

What worked today: we had a dance party. Since Sir O has decided that all forms of conspicuous exercise are of the devil, and we know how well going for walks works out, it's the only way I've found to get my heart rate up and my joints loosened. The great thing about dancing with toddlers is that they have no idea how pathetic your Rockette kicks are. Pat Benetar and ABBA were especially popular, as were all the lifts I remembered from my dancing days. Around the World goes Sir O.

Dance party was followed up by a spontaneous"picnic". That was Sir O's idea. He's caught on to imaginary eating and drinking and thinks it's great fun. Luckily the Captain was willing to sleep in his bouncy chair for large portions of this, and I managed to keep Sir O engaged and distracted enough to keep the Captain from getting slugged.

The day is only half over, but I think I can safely say it's going to be an improvement on yesterday's hopelessness.

And on a random note, with potty-training hanging eminently before us, I'm going to miss this:

I'm not sure why.

when....

a night time photo of the Captain who only sleeps when being held of late

The song from "Carousel" goes,
When the children are asleep we'll sit and dream.....
But when you can only dream of both children sleeping at the same time, you get a little crazy.
Lack of sleep has nasty side effects when you are me.
Your fuse shortens to a nub.
You get headaches.
Simple tasks become herculean hurdles.
Your perspective becomes rather cloudy and pessimism sets in.
You are not very fun to live with or come home to.

Between Sir O taking a ridiculous amount of time falling asleep at night and naptime and the Captain deciding that he cannot possibly stay asleep or be content if he is not being held..... the last 36 hours have been a trick. Throw in Sir O's unintentional homicidal tendencies and WOW.

The sort of day when you call your mom and say, "Save me!"
Except if you are me then your mom is 7,000 miles away.
Luckily we had a spot of neighborly intervention after dinner. I got to wash the dishes in relatively uninterrupted peace. That's a pathetic, but very real kind of bliss.

Luckily there are some tender mercies thrown in the mix. When he's not trying to kill his brother, Sir O has been quite fun of late. We spent this morning sorting buttons by color and counting them. Then he got into an organizing frenzy and starting placing everything "just so" in some pretty funny patterns, many of which I stumbled upon long after the fact.And some Sir O catchphrases:

That's better
Sorry baby (in between smacks upside the head)
Candy! 2,3,4,5 (I've been making him tell me how many he wants before I'll give him any)
Read red caboose
help you (means 'help me')
Thanks! (just switched to this instead of 'thank you')

And of course all of those have a "mommy" attached at one end or the other. I have to say, the unprovoked thanks are fantastic rockstar moments. I live for those.

burdee cake

I saw this tutorial for a rainbow cake the other day and thought to myself, "that would be fun to do with kids." So today, when Sir O kept asking for a "burdee cake" I decided to try it. Surprise of surprises, it held his attention the entire time I was constructing it. Little victories, folks.

too true

Somewhere in my childhood memory there is a plaque in my parents' house that reads, "Cleaning the house while kids are growing is like shoveling snow while it's still snowing."
Um yeah, if you're shoveling snow in Siberia, maybe.

Didn't I just DO the dishes/laundry/vacuuming? The part where nothing you do (tangibly) as a mother STAYS done is really a deeply emotional issue. It is so incredibly easy to feel like you aren't accomplishing anything at all. It requires constant reminders from outside of yourself to keep what you DO accomplish in perspective. Can't hear it too often, which is possibly why Visiting Teaching messages have a way of sounding redundant.

Do me a favor, and if you are not a mother of young children, go find someone who is and tell her how marvelous her efforts are. If you are a mother of young children, go read (or re-read) this and feel good about yourself.

Along that vein, I'm trying not to be discouraged by the fact that everytime Sir O and I play with blocks, I'm the one building and he's the one demolishing. Or by the part where he's constantly telling me to "Go away mommy" or telling my what I'm doing (i.e. chopping veggies) is "Stop! Not Safe!) Bossy little Sir.The redundancy of my days and the great struggle to get anything at all "accomplished" is a wee bit smothering. Must.do.the.dishes. Must.start.the.laundry. Sometimes I feel like my children are holding on to my productive capacities with bonds of quicksand. It's almost like being in a dream and moving in slow motion while everything else proceeds at a normal rate. I don't even like to do the things that now require all my focus and determination to get done. (And which are promptly undone... but which must be done nevertheless)

I don't expect it to get any easier, but I'm hoping my capacities are increased. Well, either that or that I miraculously find myself with my own washer, dryer, and dishwasher. I'd settle for that.

But self, I'm glad that the Captain's holes work so well, even if it means more laundry. And I'm glad we have enough to eat, even if it means more dishes. I'm glad Sir O is energetic, even if it means more messes and more peril for the Captain. See, the "glad game" works! At least a little bit.

It doesn't take much

So last fall, when we bought some basil with roots intact (to keep it fresh longer, methinks) at the grocery store, we couldn't resist planting it. And we made it a home on our bedroom windowsill. Lo and behold, look what has sprouted!

Yup, we've got tomatoes! How is that for a freebie with your purchase? (Showing up 6 months later!) I'm terribly excited, I haven't had a home-grown tomato in who knows how long.



Never mind that they are itty-bitty and there doesn't look to be a great bounty of them.
Oh, and I ought to share the cilantro plant Mr Renn got me for Valentine's day. Nothing says love like cilantro, I always say.
So my windowsill is defying February. I like it.

ambition

I managed to wake up before the boys today, and so by 10:00 I had everyone in order enough to consider this lunacy. I thought I'd take them for a walk. Sir O's stir-craziness happily consented and we were on our way. Captain was bundled up in the sling, I tried my best to wear a coat over it, and the march began in earnest.

The first half was actually quite good. But it was cold (February, duh self) and Sir O got cranky. He wanted to be carried, he wanted to fling himself in the path of construction vehicles, and he did NOT want to go home again. Then it started to hail. So the walk home consisted of the Captain hanging on the front, and Sir O being sort of piggy-backed. (exercise? check) My pants kept falling down, and the camera hanging around my neck kept pegging the Captain's head. It was great fun.

So we will not be tackling that one again until the memory of this morning fades into fuzziness.

irony personified

While the fastest way to my heart is handmade gifts for my boys....


The fastest way to Sir O's heart is a piece of plastic with a Disnified face. There seems to be nothing I can do about it.

So I guess it all depends on whose heart you're trying to get into.

Forward Thinking

I'm not a huge fan of having my hands (and probably the rest of me) constantly smell like baby puke.
(Although it's vastly preferred over smelling like the vomit of persons who eat solid food).

I should probably point out that we have some more concrete and realistic goals around this place. It's just that being such a goal-oriented person, the goal of relaxing is huge and hard. A lot of my goals reveal how unprepared I am to be the mother of a strong-willed toddler. I'm always upset with myself for not spending more of my mental energy pondering motherhood when I was younger. And for not acquiring homemaking skills before I was in the thick of it. But moving on, moving forward, and thinking about what I can and will do....

I want to get into a routine of exercising this year. Not because of baby weight, and not even because of wanting to feel better. I want to prioritize it so that I teach my kids by my example that it is important. I don't want them to have the herculean task I face of finding a way to work it in as an adult who's never developed the habit. So exercising with them or at least in a way/time/place where they will see it is a big part of this goal. I am fully aware of how hard I'm making this for myself, but habits are developed one day at a time, so here's to starting.

I want to continue to refine my housework routine, not so that my house will be cleaner, but so that I can get rid of the guilt over how clean it is not. No guilt for anything not on the list for today..... that's my motto.

I'm striving to make small, mostly unnoticeable changes to our family diet. More whole grain, less sugar, more veggies, less cheese (cheese is our nemesis), and DRINKING MORE WATER. Keeping lemons on hand has helped with this last one. Something about water with a lemon in it makes me about a million times more likely to drink it all.

The big one for me is structuring Sir O's days (and eventually the Captain's too) to circumvent boredom and facilitate learning without eliminating free-play. (I don't really think his free-play is in any danger.... so far I can barely fill 20 minutes a day with structured activity... such is his attention span).

I want to take more pictures. A lot of people are laughing at me right now, because I do take a lot, but I feel like I still miss a lot of moments I'd like to remember. Plus I'd like to do more with the photos I do take, but I suspect that goal will have to wait for another year.

I set a goal to celebrate more. Except there's the predication that it must not incur extra stress or expense. I just want to celebrate little things in little ways. Music, food, and candles seems to be all it takes to make a special occasion out of a potentially forgotten one.

Oh, and Decluttering! Considering that we'll be moving sometime in 2010, I'm hoping to soften the blow of packing by getting rid of anything not worth moving... and doing as much of it sooner than later as I can manage without incurring undue stress.

Lastly, I am trying to cut WAY back on computer time. Sadly this means less blog-reading and WAY less blog-commenting. It also means not checking my email constantly. This is proving very DIFFICULT. Methinks I have a benign addiction, so it's definitely time to get it in check. Please know I still love you (and read you) if my comments become sparse.

Just trying to get life in order to be present for this boy, I seem to have to eke out moments to devote to him:

chill

We are a household of uptight persons.
Goal of the year is to teach us all to relax.
Just setting myself up for failure, folks.

Love Day Vignette

Made these

Listened to this
Watched this
Good Day.

the story of us

The captain is laying in my left arm making his doe-eyed face. Thus I type with one hand and find I'm (still) no good at it. It has been a long day. None of my cuter ideas for Valentine's day came to fruition this year, but there is a small stack of presents for my boys to open tomorrow, so I didn't fail entirely. At Valentines Day that is, I did fail again at getting myself ready like a real-life person. And since I've already shared PLENTY of makeup-free photos with you.....My bedroom/computer room/craft room/nursery/storage room is a disaster area, and it's starting to infringe on my ability to concentrate. Since my ability to concentrate already has enough handicaps going on, I shall have to find a way to tackle it.

Mr Renn had to make an appearance at a Scout Camp tonight. Why anybody in their right mind would choose to camp in February is beyond my comprehension. I'm grateful he didn't have to stay the night, but it still made for a rough evening at home. Sir O emptied an entire tube of antibiotic ointment and smeared it all over himself and my bed. He was promptly deposited in the crib/jail, and there he is sleeping now.
Mr Renn arrived home late. He was freezing to the touch and covered in globs of mud. Apparently somebody's tires spun out in the mud and just happened to fling it all in his direction. Have I mentioned my feelings about laundry? Oh yes, I have.

Well, even if our laundry quarters are dwindling at an alarming rate, and the Captain has his all-nighter face on..... life is still good. Just overwhelming. I'm learning to stop wishing for a break. This is real-life Em. Complicated, riddled with problems, void of perfection. Embrace it while you have it.

Party at my house: 4 am

(and 1 am, and 2:30 am, and 6 am)
You're all invited.

Let the good times roll.

count on it

You have to know that the reason this is funny is because he never gets that many numbers in the right order.
For some reason 4 and 8 always set him off on tangents....
maybe someday I'll capture a more typical counting streak. " 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 4, 3, 10!"
For whatever reason he never starts with or includes 1. Good times.

Buddy

"Buddy" is what everybody calls everyone else around here, except me. Nobody calls me "buddy." Mr Renn calls both boys "buddy" and Sir O is nothing if not observant. So the Captain is "buddy" for now.

All day long, "Hey buddy!"


And speaking of Sir O being observant:

Homey Mc homebody

Sir O woke up yesterday with a yucky cough. He added a fever to the mix about 2am this morning, and we are all home bound today. And ornery apparently. Can you tell Sir O had a doughnut with white icing? Really? How?

February in PA makes me ornery.

But being at home with all my boys makes me happy. Even if Sir O is set off to inconsolable tears at the drop of a hat. You'll never convince me that girls are moody and boys are not. It simply has not been my experience in life.

We finally secured a sling that the Captain approves of. He refuses to sleep anywhere else actually. My back is considering mutiny.

The Captain and I have twinner baby acne. It's pretty cute.

Birthday

The captain is 1 month old today.
We tried to be celebratory.
Hope you don't get motion sickness.





Celebrated with ice cream sandwiches.
Peppermint stick ice cream between chocolate chip cookies.
Uber yum.

Wise Words I'd hope I'd remember...

But since my brain is mush I probably won't.

I've been reading again, for the first time in a long time (since this) because feeding the Captain sort of facilitates reading, if I can keep from getting sucked into my reading material. When I get sucked in then the Captain feeds for too long then promptly empties his engorged tummy all over me. Not pretty.

....Let the children learn from your attitude that he (your husband) is important. Encourage him. Be kind. It is a rough world, and he, like everyone else, is fighting to survive. Be cheerful. Don't be a whiner.

Marjorie Pay Hinckley

(Yeah, that one was a zinger through my heart. Whiner? Me?! Never!)

Then I've been reading Crossing to Safety by Wallace Stegner. I am LOVING it. It answers my longing for a narrative about married people who stay (happily) married. At least so far. I'll be sure to mention it if I feel differently once If finish.

Some brilliant bits:

"Henry James says somewhere that if you have to make notes on how a thing has struck you, it probably hasn't struck you" - - clearly this person hasn't been through fuzzy prego/mommy brain wherein you can't even remember what month it is without checking.

"I suspect that what makes hedonists so angry when they think about overachievers is that the overachievers, without drugs or orgies, have more fun." - as a lifelong member of the overachievers club, I totally get what this is saying. Otherwise it probably sounds totally bizarre to you. Think about the song "Go for a natural high" from the old Safety Kids albums. That's the gist of it.

It feels good to read again. I'm also perusing some books about incorporating Montessori principles at home. Anybody have any experience/insight into that realm?

most mornings

How many times in an hour do I have to say "Don't touch/hit/sit on your brother" before it means something?

Apparently more than 60.

Sir O adores his baby brother. He just doesn't know how to adore softly. I can't seem to get the concept through to him, nor the concept that he cannot breastfeed the baby and that mommy has to do it. (Oh the injustice!)

He always starts softly enough...


But it quickly goes downhill. Intervention is constantly required.


See, we did get dressed today!


Moving in closer....

Attack!


Sir O has successfully usurped the boppy throne. Mommy managed to catch the Captain before he was tossed overboard. Whew.

This poor kid cannot catch a break.

Neither can this poor kid. Haven't slept for 4 hours straight in over a month. Does it show?
Gotta run, Sir O is sitting on his head again...

Prosaic vs boring

I dutifully attended enrichment last night. It was a relief really to sit very still and listen to adults speak in complete sentences. The abundance of baby compliments didn't hurt either. After a very good lesson on good vs better vs best, the question was what "sins"(commissive, ommissive, or benign) keep us from knowing God? What distracts us? What can we get rid of? I think I'm pretty good about recognizing when a good thing to do isn't the best thing for me to do right now. But I do get consistently distracted by a few things (cough cough, internet, cough) and I need to manage my resources (meager as they are) much better.

A huge distraction for me right now is worrying about finances. Mr Renn is managing to be much more at peace with a "something will work out" approach. I suppose my faith is lacking. Or rather I don't necessarily feel worthy to assume something will just "work out". I feel like I need to stress out and solve it all myself, pretty much right now. What exactly does that say about me? Not good, I know.

While I was out being enlightened, Mr Renn and Sir O played in the snow in the dark. Sir O has been learning his letters (thanks to this dvd from my brother&fam for Christmas) so they made letters in the snow. (Hard to see in the dark, I tried to help you out)



Today we were audited by the power company because last July we used an abnormal amount of electricity. (Hmm.... July + 3rd floor apartment+record heat wave, what do you suppose could have caused that?) We came to the conclusion that A) - Being on the 3rd floor is a bummer and B) - Our landlords have provided us with a power-sucking refrigerator that costs a lot to run. Oh, and C) - Our computer is on a lot. Yeah, sorry about that.


Thanks to the snow last night my lovely neighbor didn't have to work today (teaching short people). So she decided to take our short person (Sir O) with her on some errands. I love breaks! (And she must really love short people).


I tried to take advantage of a few minutes alone with this little guy. He had a rough night.
All these photos with the binkie in drive my parents crazy. I promise to attempt a few without sometime, ok dad? But today is not the right sometime for worrying about that.
p.s. The latest issue of Seeing the Everyday was awesome, per usual. I cannot recommend that mag highly enough. I've cut way back on magazine subscriptions, but that is one I think I'll always find a way to keep. It's like a giant sticky-note reminder that comes in the mail saying "SLOW DOWN" "ENJOY THE MOMENT" "HE'LL REMEMBER THE LITTLE THINGS" and the like. Always exactly what I need to hear. You too, most likely.

Orders from the Captain

No matter how many times I spew all over you mom,......
You will still think I'm adorable.

Oh what a morning....

I should know by now to abandon ambition.
But I can't seem to keep that lesson learned.
Sir O has expressed a great love of "washing" things lately, so I thought this morning I would let him help me wash walls and floors while the Captain slept.
.
.
.
.
.
Only I guess I forgot to give the Captain the memo to stay asleep until we were done. So while I attended to this:

Sir O decided to wash himself as well as the walls...
Slightly ew, and very soggy.
Can't seem to win.