The Rules

I found this today while browsing Pinterest and it resonated with me so much that I had to post it here, along with my thoughts.  Thank you to Diapers  & Daisies for writing it!

25 Rules For Mothers with Daughters

1. Paint her nails. Then let her scratch it off and dirty them up. Teach her to care about her appearance, and then quickly remind her that living and having fun is most important.  I painted my toenails the other day and hesitated with Hazel demanded that I make her toes "pritty".  Why?  Because I've found myself worrying too much about the message I'm sending her with all these little "girlie" things I do during the day.  But you know what?  Not everything is about a message.  Or maybe it is.  Because after we did her toenails, she insisted we also paint Daddy's.  And we did.

2. Let her put on your makeup, even if it means bright-red-smudged lips and streaked-blue eyes. Let her experiment in her attempts to be like you…then let her be herself.  I think the less I make it this mysterious no-no, the less she'll care about it when the time comes to care about it.  It's a working theory.

3. Let her be wild. She may want to stay home and read books on the couch, or she may want to hop on the back of a motorcycle-gasp. She may be a homebody or a traveler. She may fall in love with the wrong boy, or meet Mr. Right at age 5. Try to remember that you were her age once. Everyone makes mistakes, let her make her own. 

 

4. Be present. Be there for her at her Kindergarten performances, her dance recitals, her soccer games…her everyday-little-moments. When she looks through the crowds of people, she will be looking for your smile and pride. Show it to her as often as possible.

5. Encourage her to try on your shoes and play dress-up. If she would rather wear her brother’s superman cape with high heals, allow it. If she wants to wear a tutu or dinosaur costume to the grocery store, why stop her? She needs to decide who she is and be confident in her decision. We're already doing this with Hazel.  Mostly because it's not worth the fight, but also because it's fun taking her out and seeing her personality reflected in what she's chosen to wear.  I love it so much more than having control over what she wears. 

6. Teach her to be independent. Show her by example that woman can be strong. Find and follow your own passions. Search for outlets of expression and enjoyment for yourself- not just your husband or children.  Define yourself by your own attributes, not by what others expect you to be. Know who you are as a person, and help your daughter find out who she is.

 7. Pick flowers with her. Put them in her hair. There is nothing more beautiful than a girl and a flower.

8. Let her get messy. Get messy with her, no matter how much it makes you cringe inside. Splash in the puddles, throw snowballs, make mud pies, finger paint the walls: just let it happen. The most wonderful of memories are often the messy ones. I know all of my best childhood memories involved dirt, mud and bugs. Not video games and TV.  I can only hope for the same for my girls!

9. Give her good role models- you being one of them. Introduce her to successful woman- friends, co-workers, doctors, astronauts, or authors.  Read to her about influential woman- Eleanor Roosevelt, Rosa Parks, Marie Curie. Read her the words of inspirational woman- Jane Austen, Sylvia Plath, Emily Dickinson. She should know that anything is possible.

10. Show her affection. Daughters will mimic the compassion of their mother. “I love yous” and Eskimo kisses go a long way. I strive to be very affectionate with both of my girls.  Just try and keep me away from them!!!

11. Hold her hand. Whether she is 3 years-old in the parking lot or sixteen years old in the mall, hold on to her always- this will teach her to be confident in herself and proud of her family.

12. Believe in her. It is the moments that she does not believe in herself that she will need you to believe enough for both of you. Whether it is a spelling test in the first grade, a big game or recital, a first date, or the first day of college…remind her of the independent and capable woman you have taught her to be.  Both girls blow my mind every day... this shouldn't be hard.

13. Tell her how beautiful she is. Whether it is her first day of Kindergarten, immediately after a soccer game where she is grass-stained and sweaty, or her wedding day. She needs your reminders. She needs your pride. She needs your reassurance. She is only human.  Beautiful on the inside and the outside. 

14. Love her father. Teach her to love a good man, like him. One who lets her be herself…she is after all wonderful. This is the greatest gift I could have ever given my girls... a man who loves me and who I love with all of my heart.  My girls will grow up knowing what that looks like and how it works. 

15. Make forts with boxes and blankets. Help her to find magic in the ordinary, to imagine, to create and to believe in fairy tales. Someday she will make her 5 by 5 dorm-room her home with magic touches and inspiration. And she will fall in love with a boy and believe him to be Prince Charming. I look forward to this soooo much! The fort building... not them falling in love with Prince Charming.

16. Read to her. Read her Dr. Seuss and Eric Carle. But also remember the power of Sylvia Plath and Robert Frost. Show her the beauty of words on a page and let her see you enjoy them. Words can be simply written and simply spoken, yet can harvest so much meaning. Help her to find their meaning.

17. Teach her how to love- with passion and kisses. Love her passionately. Love her father passionately and her siblings passionately. Express your love. Show her how to love with no restraint. Let her get her heart broken and try again. Let her cry, and gush, giggle and scream. She will love like you love or hate like you hate. So, choose love for both you and her.

18. Encourage her to dance and sing. Dance and sing with her- even if it sounds or looks horrible.  Let her wiggle to nursery rhymes. Let her dance on her daddy's feet and spin in your arms. Then later, let her blast noise and head bang in her bedroom with her door shut if she wants. Or karaoke to Tom Petty in the living room if she would rather. Introduce her to the classics- like The Beatles- and listen to her latest favorite- like Taylor Swift. Share the magic of music together, it will bring you closer- or at least create a soundtrack to your life together.  We love dancing and singing... but we also love wrestle time where kiddos are jumping off the couches and running around the kitchen with a pot on their heads before jumping on Mommy and Daddy.  Knowing that we get to do this helps us get through the work day!

19. Share secrets together. Communicate. Talk. Talk about anything. Let her tell you about boys, friends, school. Listen. Ask questions. Share dreams, hopes, concerns. She is not only your daughter, you are not only her mother. Be her friend too.

20. Teach her manners. Because sometimes you have to be her mother, not just her friend. The world is a happier place when made up of polite words and smiles. The smiling part is a hard one for me... I didn't smile a lot as a teenager, but I will encourage my girls to put their best face (with a smile) forward.

21. Teach her when to stand-up and when to walk away. Whether she has classmates who tease her because of her glasses, or a boyfriend who tells her she is too fat- let her know she does not have to listen. Make sure she knows how to demand respect- she is worthy of it. It does not mean she has to fight back with fists or words, because sometimes you say more with silence. Also make sure she knows which battles are worth fighting. Remind her that some people can be mean and nasty because of jealousy, or other personal reasons. Help her to understand when to shut her mouth and walk-away. Teach her to be the better person. And then Mommy can come in and knock some heads together.  Because Mommy is soooo not the better person when someone is mean to her babies. 

22. Let her choose who she loves. Even when you see through the charming boy she thinks he is, let her love him without your disapproving words: she will anyway. When he breaks her heart, be there for her with words of support rather than I told-you-so. Let her mess up again and again until she finds the one. And when she finds the one, tell her.

23. Mother her. Being a mother—to her—is undoubtedly one of your greatest accomplishments. Share with her the joys of motherhood, so one day she will want to be a mother too. Remind her over and over again with words and kisses that no one will ever love her like you love her. No one can replace or replicate a mother’s love for their children. So very true.

24. Comfort her. Because sometimes you just need your mommy. When she is sick, rub her back, make her soup and cover her in blankets- no matter how old she is. Someday, if she is giving birth to her own child, push her hair out of her face, encourage her, and tell her how beautiful she is. These are the moments she will remember you for. And someday when her husband rubs her back in attempt to comfort her...she may just whisper, "I need my mommy."  Getting to comfort my girls?  Nothing better in this world.

25. Be home. When she is sick with a cold or broken heart, she will come to you: welcome her. When she is engaged or pregnant, she will run to you to share her news: embrace her. When she is lost or confused, she will search for you: find her. When she needs advice on boys, schools, friends or an outfit: tell her. She is your daughter and will always need a safe harbor- where she can turn a key to see comforting eyes and a familiar smile: Be home.  I can only hope that Hazel and Millie know that I will Be Home for them for the rest of their lives.

To Do

I've got a lot going on in my life right now.  It's only the second week of February and I already feel like the month is almost over.  AND I'VE GOT SO MUCH TO ACCOMPLISH IN THAT TIME FRAME.  It's a bit daunting, so for the sake of keeping me sane and on target, I thought a To Do list would be appropriate.

Enjoy.

To Do List 

In no particular order.

Cut out 98% of my daily sugar consumption. 
Cut out all soda.
Refrain from punching the intern when she blinks too loudly.

Make Millie's 1st Birthday invitations.
Refrain from punching the computer.
Actually send out Millie's 1st Birthday invitations before her birthday.
Plan a birthday party.
Figure out how a birthday cake is going to factor into that whole 98% thingy.
Browse the internet through pages and pages of 1st birthday party ideas from women who I think have too much time on their hands.  Or who have an ability to turn off the TV and actually accomplish something.
Refrain from making myself feel better with M&M's.

Retrain Millie for a 7:15 wake-up because this 6 a.m. crap is GETTING OLD.
Refrain from making myself feel better with a blended mocha.

Actually use a recipe from Pinterest for dinner one night.
Actually create a craft with the girls from one of my Pinterest boards.
Try to have a life outside of Pinterest.

Finally purchase the dress pants online that I've been putting off because I don't want to spend money.
Refrain from feeling guilty for taking food out of my kids mouth.  They're both constantly taking food out of it (and throwing it on the ground), why can't I?

Finally hang up the frames that I bought Santa brought at Christmas so that we actually have stuff on our walls.
Actually put pictures in those frames.
Actually develop those pictures to put in the frames.
Actually decide on what pictures I want to develop for the frames to hang on the walls.
Refrain from making myself feel better for my lack of organization and motivation with M&M's and a mocha.

Plan Book Club for the month.
Decide what to serve for dinner for said book.
Decide what wines to serve with said dinner.
Refrain from over consuming said wine and revealing deep, dark secrets.  Like I did last time I hosted.
Think of thought provoking questions to encourage discussion of the book during dinner so that I look thoughtful and well read. Which will make the rest of the book club think that I've totally got my schmidt together, when in reality, I'm hanging by a very thin thread.
READ THE DAMN BOOK BEFORE BOOK CLUB.

Put away the folded laundry before the housekeepers come again in two weeks.
Figure out how to use the steam option on my new washer and dryer so that I'm actually getting my money's worth.

Stop referring to Millie as Minnie just because that's how Hazel says it.
Stop pronouncing it "Right der" just because that's how Hazel says it.

Make it through the rest of the month without a visit to the doctor.
Make it through the rest of the month without missing work due to a sick kiddo.

Wait... is this a To Do List, or a Wish List?

Someone Just Got A Technical

Dear Hazel,
I told your Daddy last night that I needed to get to work on your 27 month update.

And he looked at me as though I'd lost whatever remaining marbles I still had after giving birth twice in 16 months and politely commented that maybe we were making this too special.  In that special way of his.

"27 months?  Really, babe??"

So, fine... we won't call it your 27-Month Update.  Because, yes... I get it.  LAME.  But there's been a lot going on with you lately and I think you should know about it.

For starters... Holy crap, Batman! Does this kid ever shut up??? (Yes, I know we don't say "shut up" around here, but since you can't quite read yet, I feel like I still have some freedom with my words.)  You are SUCH a talker.  And you're getting so good at putting words together to actually tell us what you want.  Usually, that phrase is something like:  "I want applecakes, too."  Which comes out sounding like:  "Eyyyye ont appecakessss, tuuuuu."  But my favorite is when you add the "huh?" or "okay?" after such statements.  So we end up hearing things like:  "Eyyye ont appecakesss, tuuuu, huh?"  Even better, you say it over and over until we acknowledge that yes, we heard you.  And yes... good job on being polite.  And asking a question with a statement.  And blowing up the rules of the English language.  Dude... as long as you're not whining, I'M COOL WITH IT.

Secondly, I'm not sure how we're going to get your little sister to start walking if you insist on crawling around with her on the floor everywhere.  The two of you are constantly racing up and down the hallway on your hands and knees laughing it up.  That is, until sissy is able to get a hold of your hair and pull... then all bets are off and Mommy is consoling you.  I'm sure you don't understand why you get in trouble so much when Millie's also misbehaving.  You don't quite get that Millie's a bit too young for timeouts.  And you... well, you're the Timeout Queen these days.  I used to feel like a bad Mommy for putting in you in timeout for throwing a fit, but honestly... having you scream in your room is SO MUCH MORE PREFERABLE  than you screaming in the middle of the kitchen.  And it struck me the other day that this is totally what you were like as a baby.  You just needed to scream.  It didn't matter where you were or if we were there to listen to it.  And once you exorcise those demons, you seem to be just fine.  The other day, though, I had to put you in a timeout in the kitchen because you had taken a berry from your plate when you were specifically told that if you were going to have a berry, you needed to sit in your chair and eat dinner.  See.... you've got this thing with sitting at a table and eating.  In that you don't want to actually sit and eat.  You'd rather run around while shoving food in your mouth.  And that means that when we are sitting down to eat, you end up turning into a contortionist in your chair. Feet on the table, or legs behind your ear... you are all over the place.  You usually end up sitting sideways on your little chair... and then get really mad freak out when some of the food from your fork has dropped onto your leg... because, did I also forget to mention that you insist on being 2 feet away from the table whilst eating?  Yep.  Horror of horrors when a piece of scrambled egg falls on your leg.  END OF DAYS.  Lots of end of days these days.  From food alone.  


So, dinner times have been fun lately.  But, yes... you were naughty and stole a berry from your dinner plate and had to go into timeout.  But, and this was amazing to me, you knew it was wrong and didn't seem to be surprised you ended up in a timeout.  And you were sufficiently somber about it.  This... this I call PROGRESS.

Also new the last few months?  Shyness.  You... my little "Most Likely To Be Kidnapped Cuz She's So Darn Friendly".... now all of the sudden you see new people, or even people that you know but haven't seen for a while and you cling to my leg and hide your face.  Of course, this only lasts for a little bit before The Real Hazel shows up and it's go-time.

Your meltdowns have continued... as is the rite of passage for most 2-year-olds.  Our response to it has improved dramatically, though.  Which means, you'll likely see your 3rd birthday.  And if we can survive the meltdown of all meltdowns that occurred last week at The Treehouse Museum, I'd say your Daddy and I can pretty much do anything.

You still don't let Mommy do much with your hair.  Which, quite frankly, is kind of okay with me.  Because Mommy still has to deal with doing HER hair.  Add your hair into the mix and the morning is shot.  I still can't believe we rolled two girls... two girls who will depend on me to help with their hair for a good portion of the time they live with me.  WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO?  But your hair... man, you've got some curls.  And I kind of think that helps me out because with the curls, it's at least semi-styled by default.

Poor Millie with her straight hair.  So. Screwed.

We love you so much, Hazel. And even though you test our patience and our wills to live at times, the good far outweighs the bad and I cannot imagine our lives without you.

Love,
Mama

11 Months of the Beanaroo

Dear Millie,
Today, you turned 11 months old.

Holy. Balls.

That's right.  Back when you were an infant, your mother said things like Holy. Balls.  And wrote them down online, for all the world (and future employers) to see.  And she purposely put periods after each word.  So as to better emphasize her immaturity.

I tell you this because by the time you're actually reading this, you probably would never believe that such words or expressions could have ever come out of your mother's mouth.  Because, by now, I am undoubtedly the sophisticated socialite that I always knew I would one day become. And I probably say things like "Goodness gracious", when proclaiming surprise at something.  And that will be without periods between words.  I have probably never told you about what a little loud mouth I was back in the day.

I imagine that your father and I currently reside in the same residence as we did when you were just a little one.  But that after having won the lottery or some such nonsense, I made your father give me vaulted ceilings so that when I am 60, I won't be sitting in my kitchen, smoking a ciggy and saying:  "You know what I always wanted?  Vaulted ceilings."

Yep.  Balls.  Holy ones at that.

*Ahem*

But back to the topic at hand.  11 months, baby girl!  You are almost one!  We have almost gotten you to the Big Day... your first birthday! 

In mostly one piece!

Your 11 month has been a pretty rough one for you.  But, who am I kidding?  So far, 2012 has not been good to the Nadolski Clan period.  But, since this is your letter, we'll stick with what's been going on with you.  Because you had some major happenings this month.

To start, you had a wonderful Christmas with your sissy.  You obviously had no clue what Christmas was, but you sure loved the Christmas tree and the ornaments.  You also loved the wrapping paper and played with that a lot.  But I think you really liked Cookie Monster.  At least... you liked it for a couple of seconds. 

Your little personality is starting to shine through and it's so fun to see how you change every single day.  You're still my happy little girl.  You're my easy baby and we just love to see you interacting with the world around you daily.  So. Much. Fun.

You are getting so close to walking... but it doesn't really seem to interest you that much.  You do like to stand on your own and clap your hands and sometimes I can see in your eyes that you're just a touch curious, but when it comes down to it, you'd rather just plop on your butt and take off at mach speed on your hands and knees.  Usually towards whatever your sister is doing.  Just so you can mess with her.  Oh, you LOVE to mess with your sister.  You love to try to take away whatever toy she is playing with... and when she won't let you, you quickly get revenge by pulling her hair.  And I'm telling you now, baby girl... the fact that she hasn't pulled back and smacked you speaks to her gentle personality.  Not sure how much longer that will last... cuz she's kinda getting over it.  I've tried warning you... but you just don't seem to care.  All you know is that you have to be where she is.  And you have to screw with her.  ONE WAY OR ANOTHER.

You get that from your Aunt KC.

Right after Christmas, you came down with a little strep butt.  Yep. Strep butt.  Bet you didn't know you could get that, right? Neither did your Mommy.  Which is why Hazel then got strep butt a few days after you were diagnosed.  Because the two of you love some tubby time together.  And I've found that it's a great way to save time removing dirt... and sharing germs!

About a week after that debacle, you started to cough.  It wasn't a bad cough.  Just a little one.  I was leaving for a conference in Indianapolis the next day, so I took you to the doctor on a whim...fully expecting her to pat me on the back and say that it was just a head cold, so chill out, Mommy.  But, she didn't.  Even though you had no other signs besides a mild cough, they ran an RSV test on you and it came back positive.

This meant that Daddy had to take the week off of work to care for you at home... and this also meant that because we caught it early, it was gonna get bad. And it did.  Daddy was amazing... he had to take you to the RSV clinic once at midnight and then spent the rest of the week holding you and controlling your temp.  You became pretty needy and clingy in that week... and to be honest, I think even though it meant you were sick, Daddy reveled in it because you're really not one to snuggle.  But that's exactly what you wanted to do.  And the only way you would sleep was on him.  And since he never got to experience that with you because you were born with an independent streak (and a preference for Mommy, anyway) it was pretty special for him.

Of course, once I got home from my business trip, Daddy handed you over and went fishing cuz he needed some alone time.   I don't blame him.  Being a parent... hard.  Being a single parent?  I don't even want to think about it.  Not sure either of us would survive as a single parent!  Much respect to those who do.  MUCH.

I stayed home with you Friday and then we spent the weekend as a family... dealing with you being sick and your sister having some serious cabin fever.  I then spent Tuesday with you in the hospital because you were a little dehydrated.  Um... so, yea... if you ever have a baby and have to hold her down while he/she gets an IV, I recommend heavy drinking to numb your pain.  Because that's just the worst thing.  EVER.  Poor kiddo... I really felt like I put you through the ringer... but you weren't drinking and you weren't peeing.  We were only supposed to be there a couple of hours.  And four hours later when you accidentally pulled out the IV when it got caught on the crib when you lost your balance and fell... well, if the nurses had said we were going to do another IV, heads would have rolled.  Thankfully, I think they suspected this and let us go home.

There's a whole story about where your Daddy was during this time.  One that I may or may not decide to blog about.  Because, while it's a funny story of strange circumstances and coincidences... and his absence really was the fault of Verizon, and not him.... well, I was pretty mad at your Daddy and even now, a week later, I don't want to talk about it.  Let's just say, I'm glad I have him as my mate because it turns out, I'm a bit needy. Especially when it comes to emotional support when my 10-month-old is getting an IV.

Anyhoo.... you have bounced back marvelously in the last few days.  You're back in school and are loving playing with the other kids.  You are standing a lot.  And you are so verbal.  You love to be sung to, which is often the only way I can ever change your diaper.  But, like your sister at this age, changing your diaper and getting you dressed every day is similar to shoving an octopus into a wet paper bag. 

Your laugh is infectious and you and your sissy love to make each other laugh.  You like to blow bubbles at your sister and you love Eskimo kisses from Mommy.  You love playing peek-a-boo with your blankie.  Oh yes... the blankie that we finally were able to wash the other day because you're taking just the one nap per day now.  Yes.... one nap per day.  And man... that's coming in handy with your sister's schedule.  Now if we could only get your sissy to nap consistently we'd be set.  Some days she'll nap for 3 hours, other days she won't nap.  Her average is 1.5 hours... but I'm telling you, when we can get the two of you down at the same time... even if it's just for 30 minutes... it's a total recharge for Mommy and Daddy.  And we're not ready to give up on those 30 minutes of alone time so we'll continue to push nappy time with your sissy, and hope that you keep doing what you're doing.

One of your favorite games right now is opening and shutting the door.  It's usually your sister shutting the door on you, which causes you to squeal with delight.  And causes Mommy to cringe every time I hear the door slam shut because I know that one of these days?  Some cute little fingers or toes are going to get slammed in the door.  And that will not do.  But for how, Hazel seems to be aware of this... somehow.  I don't know. I may just be rationalizing and tonight will be the night that the fingers get broken.  That's usually the way things roll in our house.

You have a few other games you love.  And they all involve things that could kill you.  You love to open up the cabinet under the sink... you know, where we keep all the cleaning agents. The one that we're in a lot so we keep forgetting to lock it?  That one.  You also love to play with the outlets in the house. LOVE IT.  I can't keep you away from them.  We never had that big of an issue with Hazel and outlets, but you?  You're killing me with your fascination with them.   Which goes right along with your fascination of anything that has an electrical cord that you can chew on, or wrap around your neck.  I think the dangers there speak for themselves.

You're also a big fan of Mommy's laptop and it doesn't matter where you are in the house, if I sit down and open my computer, you can sense it... and the next thing I know, you're right there, wanting to see what I'm doing and if possibly, smash your hands against the buttons and destroy it.  You also have a fascination with the remote control.  But only if there are batteries in it.  Because if I take out a battery so that you don't accidentally program our TV to Spanish, you suddenly lose all interest.  You just know that the remote is now completely useless and you are therefore not going to waste your time.

It's fascinating.  You're too smart for your own good.  And you're definitely too smart for Mommy's good. 

All in all... it's good to be you. 


Love you, baby girl.
Mama

Crossfit

I've been debating about writing this post for quite some time.  For the simple reason that there are a lot of "haters" out there who have a lot to say... about something that they don't really know about.  And I just really don't want to hear about it anymore. 

But recently, I've been getting a lot of questions from people who are genuinely interested in Crossfit... something that I hold a deep passion for.  They ask me to sell them on Crossfit.  Just like, I guess, I sold people on how amazing running a marathon or a half-ironman... or eating my weight in Cadbury eggs each Spring was.  (True story.)(BTW... Easter's not that far away.)(If you're looking to get me something from the Easter Bunny.)

I try to temper my advice to them with the caveat that not all Crossfit gyms are the same.  And I can say without a shadow of a doubt that my Crossfit gym?  Totally better than your Crossfit gym.  Sorry.  True story.  I lurve it. 

And I know that Crossfit... not for everyone.  It isn't.  But if it is for you and you're willing to work through the pain of not being able to hold a fork or reach for a glass of wine , beer, water for the first 3 weeks of it, then you'll graduate to just being perpetually sore.  For the rest of your life.

And it will make you feel ALIVE.  

I want to be clear that I am not an ultimate crossfitter.  I still can't do a pull-up without a band.  I still struggle with box jumps (so sad because that used to be my thing in college!) and burpees.  I still can't do a muscle up because I'm so afraid I'm going to pop a ligament in my sternum like a roomie of mine did in college.  I have yet to figure out how to climb the rope.  I'm slow and my butt still jiggles at the most inopportune times. 

That being said... I cannot do without it.  For those of you who are interested in checking out crossfit, my recommendation is to make sure that your instructors are interactive and give you feedback about correct lifting techniques.  Otherwise, you'll get hurt and YOU'LL BLAME ME.  And I've already got the 2-year-old blaming me not cutting up her banana the exact same way as I do for the kid without any teeth, so I don't need that on my plate. 

Whichever gym you go to, I would recommend determining if they have a beginners class that they offer to teach you the basics.  If not, don't waste your time and money. 

Okay, there's so much more I could get into on what you should or should not expect from Crossfit, but instead, let's just talk about my Crossfit gym:  Crossfit Ogden.

And why I heart it to death... by thrusters. (Look at me with the crossfit jokes!)(LOSER.)

My Crossfit gym has helped me gain the strength I need to carry two screaming children up and down the stairs at day care, in a skirt and heels... without breaking a sweat.  Sure... I'm muttering curse words under my breath, but the point is I'm not out of breath.  Point, Crossfit.

My Crossfit gym has introduced me to some absolutely amazing and genuine people. People I have Facebooked.  And, I'll be honest, I'm discerning when it comes to friending peeps on Facebook.  I see no need to have 700 "friends".  We didn't talk to each other in high school... why do you want to be friends now?  I can barely stand you IRL, why do I care what you had for breakfast?   But, I digress.  The point is, I've been to a lot of gyms in my life... A. LOT.... but none of them have been as welcoming and gracious and supportive as every single instructor and fellow crossfitter as my gym.

My Crossfit gym expects the most out of me.  And therefore, I expect the most out of myself.  Something I haven't really experienced since I stopped training for triathlon.  Because I got lonely out there swimming, running and biking by myself.  I can honestly say, I've never felt alone or lonely in my gym.

My Crossfit gym cares about me as a person.  They care about my physical body. They care about my heart and my soul.  I even think they care about these damn love handles that won't go away.  They care about the rib that popped out of place when picking up a dolly for Hazel while driving... LEST THE WORLD END. 

My Crossfit gym has a crossfitter that is a massage therapist who may be the best in the world. Tha. World.  This and this alone is worth the pain I go through for crossfit. 

My Crossfit gym makes sure that I know they have missed me when I've been sick or traveling for a few weeks.  From the instructor to the crossfitters.  That's a community feeling that is contagious.

My Crossfit gym makes me a better wife, mother, friend and employee.  Although, maybe not so much a better driver as I have been a little blurry more than once after a workout and probably shouldn't have been allowed behind the wheel. 

My Crossfit gym thinks I'm strong.  And so I think I'm strong.

My Crossfit gym suspects that there is a skinny bitch inside me and is going to help me get her out.

My Crossfit gym has the capability of breaking me in half... but will be there to support me through the tears and frustration and won't even make fun of the 34-year-old crying in the corner because it hurt so much to do 50 burpees.

My Crossfit gym doesn't judge when I pee my pants during double-unders.  In fact, the women (and husbands of crossfitters) celebrate it with me.  YAY!  You have kids!  Welcome to jump roping for the rest of your life!

My Crossfit gym does not allow meatheads, but still has some absolutely amazing athletes workout there. 

My Crossfit gym doesn't mind if I ogle certain other crossfitters who take their shirts off during a workout.  Men and women.  And, neither does Benny, because he's truly impressed as well. 

My Crossfit is going to get me to the point that I can be one of those said women who take off their shirts for a workout.

My Crossfit, has given me back my quads.   Things I haven't had since college.  12 years, two babies and many, many poundaroos ago.

I am continually hopeful the my Crossfit gym will eventually give me back my ankles and calves.  And perhaps my waist.  It will come.  It's just gonna hurt like hell.  

And I'm gonna love every. single. minute. of it.

The Bean Months 9 & 10

Dear Millie,
I can't believe that you're 10 months old.  I can't believe I didn't write your 9 month update. I can't believe that you don't seem to care all that much that your mother is a complete and total slacker. Yet, anyway.  I'm sure the day will come.  I gotta get my act together, don't I?  Cuz today you're 10 months, tomorrow you're 19 and taking the world by storm.  Not that you're not already doing that but...  Yowza!  Time is flying by!

You have grown in leaps and bounds in the last two months.  So much so that I'm worried I won't be appropriately capture the enormity of the changes that have taken place with you lately with mere words.

First... let's have a round of applause to the Mommy who didn't document when her baby finally graduated from an army-man crawl to a full-fledged LOOKOUTHERESHECOMES! crawl.  That's right... you finally put 2 and 2 together and got a serious case of The Mobility on Thanksgiving.  You took your first legitimate crawl in front of all of your grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.  It was so very cool! And when you did it, you got this twinkle in your eye as if to say: "Whoa.  That. Was. Awesome.  I'm gonna do that again." And you haven't slowed down one bit since then.  This gives us a great glimpse into your future.

You love to be in the middle of things with your newfound mobility.  And you like to tease your older sister to the point that brain matter drips out of her ears when you touch or look at her dolly or her blanket or her blocks... or her Daddy.  You find it very entertaining.  

You went through a weird little thing when your turned 9 months.  You were waking up in the night to eat.  Which was abnormal for you because you had been throwing down 12-14 hour sleeps for months prior.  We quickly did some research and made an educated guess that it was because you were refusing to eat your baby food in the evenings.  So, you'd wake up at 8, 12 or 3 and need to be fed again.  I never have gotten legitimately mad at you, Mills... but I was really frustrated and remember telling your Daddy that:  "This bleep needs to end. Now.  Of COURSE she's hungry.  SHE WON'T FREAKIN' EAT! BLEEEEEP!!!"

(*I actually did say bleep.  Because your older sister is a verbal sponge right now and I'm already THAT mom.)(And now, the horn on the bus goes bleep, bleep, bleep... rather than beep, beep, beep.)(Who knew?)

Anyway, after carefully rehashing all of the what if's that could be causing this weird behavior, we decided that maybe you just didn't like the baby food we were forcing down your gullet.  So we started to slowly let you have some real food.  And the verdict?  Holy cow... there are not enough hands in the world to shove all of the bananas, peas, spaghetti, pancakes and yes, pizza down your gullet to satisfy you!  It's as if you were starving yourself in a protest to have real food. 

The problem is that up until about a week ago, you still only had your two bottom teeth.  Last week, your two top teeth started to come in, but they're taking their own sweet time about it.  And while you can gum pretty much anything, I still hesitated to give you real food for the very real fear that you would choke.  And, yes... I'll admit that you've choked no less than three times since we started giving you food.  And one time it was serious enough that I had to pull you out of your seat and administer first aid by slapping you on the back until you threw up a little bit.  But you refuse to go back to the pureed foods. So, we've been feeding you a lot of soup, rice, eggs, toast, peas and yogurt.  Sometimes... at the same time.

And you couldn't be happier.

And in the last week, you've had two more teeth start to pop through... so you're in a little bit of pain, although the only way we know this is that you finally hit a 2 on the Fussiness Scale.  So we give you things to gnaw on.  Like a cracker.  Or my neck.  And then give you the Tylenol.  And that seems to work just fine.

You are loving tubby time with your sissy these days.  You absolutely love splashing with her and there's nothing in this world that melts my heart more than hearing and seeing the two of you playing together.  Even if it means we go through towels at twice the normal rate due to all the splashing.  TOTALLY WORTH IT.

You have become so interactive in the last two months.  You smile first thing in the morning, you smile all through the day... you just smile all the time.  You love to laugh... although you never really get those uncontrollable giggles that your sissy used to.  But you definitely laugh more overall. I theorize that these are just polite laughs so that Mommy doesn't feel like an idiot for making faces at you and getting no reaction, and that you have quite the discerning sense of humor.  But, when you really find something funny, you REALLY find it funny.

And either way, you always end up in hiccups.

And the thing that you find the most funny right now?  Your sissy.  Oh, my... you think she's the greatest thing since sliced bananas.  You especially find her funny during nekkid time right after tubby time.  Nekkid time is when we let the both of you run/crawl around nekkid and hijinks ensue.  And as long as those hijinks don't end up with Mommy cleaning up said "hijinks", I'm totally cool with it.  And a house full of laughter and love?  That's my overall goal in being a Mommy. 

You continue to be a great sleeper and only occasionally wake up and need a bottle.  Since you've been on real food, that happens fewer and farther between.  You continue to be a Mama's girl.  And I cannot tell you how endearing it is when you see me and your face lights up as if to say: "Yes!!!  There's my people! I'm gonna drool on you now to show you just how much I lurve you!"  

You recently moved into a transitional car seat.  Which, let's me honest... you're not a big fan of.  There's just something about it that upsets you.  But you were just too big for your carrier.  It was like trying to shove a pound of dough into an 8 oz cup.  It just didn't look good, and couldn't have been comfortable.  I just think that you're big on routine.  And the uncomfortable car seat was your routine.  And since we changed that, well... someone has definitely moved your cheese and every time we get into the car and you see that, yep, it's still there... OMG!!  NOT THE CHAIR!  ANYTHING BUT THE CHAIR!!!

Every morning for day care. 

Every evening after day care. 

For the last two months.

So... that's been fun.  The only redeeming quality is that you have a better view of your sissy and out the back of the car, so once we actually get you in the seat, you seem to be just fine.  As long as we're moving. And your sissy is paying attention to you.  You did NOT like the trip to Phoenix when we gave her a laptop to watch Lion King on and she ignored you.  That was so not cool with you.

You're still going to bed pretty early every evening.  Usually by 6:30.  You're starting to already transition out of two naps and just take the one during the day.  Which is nice because if we play our cards right and you cooperate by throwing down a decent nap on the weekends, Mommy and Daddy have some quiet time while both you and your sissy nap.  It's heavenly.  The drawback to the one nappy is that you're down by 6:30... and sometimes at day care, you've only had a 30 minute nap all day and then... yes, that means a short night with you.  But when you've had a good nappy, we'll keep you up until 7 or even 7:30, depending on how things are going.  You immediately know the drill when we go into your room and depending on how tired you are, you'll rest your head on our shoulder and we get to sway with you for approximately 5.4 seconds before you demand to be put in your crib.  Other nights, as soon as the lights go out, you push away and when we put you down and give you your blankie, you're  a goner.  

Oh, your blankie.  You loves you some blankie.  As long as you have your blankie, all is right in your world.  Apparently, if you see your blankie in your bed at day care, you crawl right over, hollering the whole way, and pull it out so you can snuggle with it.  So, when you've gotten a bit fussy at home, I'll grab your blankie and give it to you and... I'll be damned.  It works.  You loves you some blankie.  I gotta figure out when to wash that thing... it's getting pretty rank. 

You are such a joy in our lives, Millie.  We thank our stars every day for you and the joy you've brought to our family.  I cannot imagine my life without you.  I cannot imagine our family being complete without you.

We love you, Mills.

Love,
Mama

Hazel 25 & 26 Month Updates

Dear Hazel,
Well.... it's been a couple of months since I wrote to you last.  And honestly... it's good that I didn't write to you during that time.  Because things have been a little strained between the two of us since your birthday.

And it wouldn't have been a nice letter.

And you would have ended up in therapy. 

I'm a giver, that way.

I would like to say I don't know why things have been so rough.  But the truth is, I do know why.  It's because your mother is a bit of a head-strong idiot who apparently has a low threshold for 2-year-old behavior... and has had to learn some lessons in mothering the hard way.  

It's like that with everything I do, by the way. So.. we really shouldn't be surprised. 

The last two months of your life have left me feeling eerily similar to how I felt during the first two months of your life.  When I was absolutely convinced that I was unfit to be a mother and there were probably better people in this world that were capable of raising you. (Maybe a pack of wolves?) And that you would probably be more than happy to be with them, anyway.

But... Mommy did some quick growing up in the last couple of months... and also toughened up the callouses on her soul, so that she doesn't have a meltdown whenever YOU have a meltdown.  And things have been going much better since then.  

So, on to bigger and better things, right?  Let's start with how much you are talking these days.  Oh my God, baby girl... you are a chatter box.  And you're really into saying "K?" and "Huh?"  Both of these, by the way, usually follow some incoherent babble and we've taken to just nodding - as though we understand what you just asked us - and saying "Yea!"

The problem is, sometimes we've thought it was just nonsense talking with the "K?", but as soon as we say "Yea!", you get a twinkle in your eye and run off to the bathroom.  Presumably to drink the bleach or take a tubby in the toilet.  So, we've had to curb our immediate yea's for now.

You have been throwing more than your fair share of fits these days.  It's the easiest way to get what you want.

NOT.

No... you throw a fit and then Mommy and Daddy decide to engage in this never ending power struggle with a 2-year-old.  And can I just say for a moment, that kinda makes me proud?  You get your stubborness from me.  But I'm blaming your temper on your Daddy.  So, while it's his DNA that has you blowing your top when your banana breaks, it's my DNA that won't let you let go of the fact that YOUR. BANANA. IS. BROKEN.  No matter how many other bananas you are offered.

Honestly, baby girl... if you make it out of the toddler years completely sane, it will be a freakin' miracle.

Anyhoo... we think we've got a handle on your tantrums now.  You are often sent to your room to freak out alone.  Mama just doesn't want to hear it anymore.  And you kinda, sorta LOVE being in your room by yourself.  Almost as much as you love freaking out.  Which... DON'T LIE... you really dig, don't you?  Oh, I know. 

You still love to color and paint and read.  And I've been surprised by how much more you're enjoying playing by yourself.  Especially with your babies.  And my baby (Millie). Oh, you loves you some Millie time.  Your favorite game right now is turning off your bedroom light and shutting your door with you and your sissy in the room.  It does my heart so good to hear little giggles from the two of you when you're playing together.  And for the most part, you're still very gentle with her.  And if you do hurt her (on purpose or accidentally) you are quick to say sorry and give her a hug... which is awesome.)

Your second favorite game right now is: Daddy, Lay Down.  This game is one that your father adores as well.  Because all it entails him doing is laying down on the floor in your room and letting you cover him with 5 blankets and then let you pat his back and kiss him on the cheek.  He especially loves this game after working out. 

You also love to play on the potty.  And to tell Mommy and Daddy that you have to potty, take all of your clothes off and go sit on the potty... and do NOTHING.  We've taken to just leaving you in there to do your thang cuz we can't spend the next 30 minutes watching you sit.  Luckily, you also love naked time so this is not a problem for you.  And as long as you don't pee or poop on the floor (again) we'll allow it to continue.  In my opinion... you can never have too much naked time as a kid.   You have your whole life to have to conform to societies standards of clothing.... use naked time as much as you can, kiddo.  Pretty soon, you'll be 34, have two kiddos and hate to see yourself naked. 

Speaking of naked time, the other day you took off your shirt and told your Daddy you wanted to go outside.  I should mention now that it was about 10 degrees outside when you decided this would be a reasonable request.  Daddy asked you to put on a jacket and you said:  "Wanna go outside with my body," while slapping your chest to emphasize the innocent skin that was about to be frostbitten.  Because your Daddy decided it wasn't a battle he was willing to fight.  And let you go outside.  Without a shirt.

About a minute into the Toddler Freeze Out of 2011, you asked for a coat.  And wore it the rest of the day.  Inside and out.  Cuz you're a quick learner, that way.  But... we've never had to fight you to put on a coat since then, so I guess Daddy's gamble paid off.

You love to help in the kitchen.  Whenever we're cooking or cleaning, you're right there.... breaking the eggs, and dropping them on the floor or standing on the door of the dishwasher as you try to reach for the sharpest knife to run around with put away.  Incredibly helpful.  You even got your own vacuum for Christmas and whenever we pull our vacuum out, you get yours out and follow us around with it... picking up anything we may have missed.

You loved helping decorate the tree for Christmas.  We purposely bought a Charlie Brown tree so that it would take me 30 seconds to decorate.  An hour later, I finally cried Uncle and let you do most of the work. 

It turned out okay, though.  You and your sissy did a good job.

Speaking of Christmas, you met Santa Claus for the first time this year.  I know, I know... it's terrible that you're two and this is the first time we've bothered introducing you to Santa.  But, see... the first year, you were only 3 months old.  And the second year, I was pregnant up to my eyeballs and just didn't have the energy or the patience to deal with finding a non-pervy Santa for you to visit with.  Turns out that the Christmas Village had one that intrigued you. 

Plus, you got to check out where his elves work!

When we drove to Arizona for Thanksgiving with Daddy's family, you watched The Lion King almost the entire way there and back.  You loved it.  You loved the sights, the sounds, the music.  But, apparently, you mostly like Pumba.  You know... the warthog who could clear the savannah after every meal?  He's a sensitive soul, though he seems thick-skinned.  And it hurt, that his friends never stood downwind... and OH THE SHAME!....

Ahem... yes, Mommy and Daddy now have that song memorized as well.  Anyway, out of nowhere a few days ago, you started saying poma?  poma? poma?  We had no idea what it was, so we just started repeating it back to you.... much to your delight.  Eventually, it morphed from poma, to puma, to pony, to bunny, to ping-ying, to Pumba.  And once we hit Pumba, you got really excited and YES!  THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN SAYING ALL ALONG! HAKUNA MATATA! It tickled you pink, sweetie.  And ever since that fateful day whenever you walk into the house after school, you go up to Daddy and say:  Pumba?  It never fails to crack us all up.  It. Is. Awesome.

You continue to be a Daddy's girl.  Who am I kidding?  You're giving a new definition to the term Daddy's Girl.  For the love... you CANNOT and WILL NOT share him with anyone.  Not Mommy.  Not Millie.  Not the kitchen.  Nothing.  It's getting pretty old, this "My Daddy" phase.  One that we're not sure you're ever going to grow out of. And it's terrifying.


You're going through a thing right now.  A thing where you wake up once or twice a night screaming for My Daddy... or occasionally My Mommy.  Or sometimes it's just screaming.  I think that you're having nightmares or something... so it doesn't seem right not to go to you and comfort you.  But man... Mama needs her sleep!!!  This phase needs to run it's course cuz I am kind of over it.


The last two months, Mommy and Daddy have been seriously considering buying a mini-van.  And for this, I blame you.  Mommy's only requirement of being a Mommy was that she never be reduced to driving a mini-van.  Because Mommy is shallow and judged other mommies in mini-vans.  And thought that she could still pull off "hip" Mommy if she continued to drive an SUV vs a minivan.  But "hip" Mommy in the SUV is quickly being reduced to "losing her mind" Mommy in the SUV because you are KILLING HER with your refusal to get into the car seat and your insistence on getting in on your own... and then freaking out when Mommy has had enough and forcibly puts you into the seat.  Because it's 7 degrees outside and IT'S TIME TO GO.

So... yes, if we ever get a mini-van, it's all your fault.  I'll be "mini-van" Mommy.  That and my shoes are a dead giveaway, according to my fellow Mommy-In-Arms, Erica.  And I will tell you this if you ever complain about how lame our car is:  "Well, we had a Pilot.  But you screwed that up so now we get this mini-van.  Make your peace with it, kid.  I did."

You still don't quite "get" Christmas.  Although, you do love you some Christmas Carols.  Like Rudolph and Frosty the Snowman.  You also know who Santa Claus is.  But I don't think you understand the magic that is Santa Claus.  I can't wait for you to get that.  My parents always made Christmastime really magical and special for us, and I hope to do the same for you.

You and I have been spending a lot of time doing crafts and making cookies and gingerbread houses for the holidays.  And if I can ever get you to stop eating the cookie dough or the candies for the houses, I wouldn't end up covered in flour and sugar while sweating profusely.  But you know what?  TOTALLY WORTH IT. 

It is so fun to watch you learn new things every day.  It seems like you learn a new word or a new action every day. You mimic everything we do, and I'm constantly blown away at the enormity that falls upon us as parents to children in today's world.  I'm telling you... you can easily blow it.  And I hope and pray every day that I don't.

You keep us on our toes, kid.  And we wouldn't have it any other way.

Love,
Mama