I wasn’t.

Be it God, or His newest angel, I am eternally grateful. Mr. Allen, you watched over me many years ago, and I owe you my life. Again.

Update: I added some more pictures after I went to see the car for myself.  It was very emotional for me, but I also found a beauty to the way the car was bent in different directions. -Juan

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Really, the biggest issue I wasn’t prepared for was how fussy Jonas was going to be. I know all kids are different, but my thought process was that since Izzy was a preemie, Jonas-being full term-was bound to be easier. WRONG. He is more clingy, more easily upset, and cries WAY more than Izzy ever did. Because of this I now have a theory that boy babies are wussier than girls. However, things are looking up. Everyone you talk to says, “It only lasts a few months.” Whatever IT is. I swear, if I hear that well meaning yet completely useless phrase one more time; I’m going to shoot the messenger! Provided I find a gun. Or any projectile-I can improvise.

Ok. Enough ranting. I love being at home and able to complain about this. I love my kids. I am grateful because life could be so much worse. That said,  I’ve also learned a few tricks which have helped out a ton.

First trick is a shout out to all Mothers that have been there! I have to admit that when things got pretty much unbearable, I called my Mom. She had two boys fourteen months apart and knew exactly what I was dealing with. She also has four kids total so one of them was bound to be as high maintenance as Jonas. I was right! (Zach, apparently you were the fuss bucket out of all of us-sorry bro) She went right into advising the Lost-Daughter-But-Trying-Not-To-Show-It.  Her advice was good, but it was just as helpful hearing about someone that has been  as frustrated, tired and confused. I advise all Lost-Mommies-But-Trying-Not-To-Show-Its to find a friend or family member that has been there and call them. It really helps.

Second thing I learned is how much I can do by myself. Not really a brag, but the first time I carried an eight pound bobble head and a twenty something pound monkey-determined to kiss and/or decapitate bobble head-down the stairs at the same time was pretty triumphant. To have to feed, clothe, teach, protect and nurture two small creatures at the same time is challenging. Its hard and exhausting, but we survive the days. The confidence that comes out of dealing with so many daily challenges is like a small breath of fresh air on a humid day. “Whew, I did it.” And when Juan is working it’s, “whew, I did it by myself.” I am Mommy, hear me roar!

But by far the best thing I have discovered that helps is actually an item. Yes, tip number three is GET A WRAP. A six yard long piece of cloth has totally revolutionized our lives! I love it! I had originally made a baby sling for Jonas, but like Izzy he did not like being in it. They both like to stretch out and have free arms and legs. That whole womblike experience was lost on them. However, Jonas still wanted to be held constantly. Constantly-as in I put him down to take a much needed bathroom break and he would cry. Not liking the sling, I put him in one of those store bought baby carriers. Even though it was rated for newborns, his head would always flop around too much and I had to keep one hand on him. And It wasn’t comfortable. I went online and started researching baby carriers and found a baby wearing website. It had wraps on it. I love how comfy they looked and how versatile they were. They also cost $40-$160 bucks each. Not so good for a one income family. I then found a site that showed how to make one, and the rest is history. He gets tied to my back when I need to cook or clean, and I front wrap him when we go shopping or just to carry him. Even Juan can wear it and also loves it. This is a MUST HAVE for Moms, but especially those with other kids.

I guess in retrospect, the first couple weeks were pretty bad, but with the aid of my Mom,a renewed self-confidence, and a wrap; the last couple of weeks haven’t been too bad. I still long for the days when Jonas will nap in a crib or at least space out his feedings a little better, but I take what I can get. Right now all I can get is two little munchkins that aren’t crying. And maybe a decent meal or a shower. . .

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“How is that a bad thing?” you ask. Give Izzy an idea, and she runs with it! She deduced that if she climbs in the cart and gives the royal wave, she’ll get a ride. Otherwise she gets a little more demanding. This was fun the first eighteen rounds. However, as I am about to have another kid in less than a month, my back and general physical aptitude isn’t quite up to bending over a child’s toy pushing a 25 pound lump around several times a day. So I did what every desperate parent does when faced with a child’s obsession; I hid the Royal Chariot. Out of sight; out of mind right? Wrong! She takes an idea and RUNS with it! The next day or so, I see her sit on her red food tray (now named the Royal Carpet Glider), give the royal wave, and look at me expectantly. “Mom! I’m waiting here!” I push her back and forth with my feet, while sitting on my medicine ball. My aching back was spared. . .this time.

Downstairs she has a little tray with wheels that holds her building blocks. That tray has not seen its building blocks for many a day now as they are scattered throughout her kingdom. The tray hadn’t received much notice from her, until her agile mind discovered its true calling: a Royal Carriage! Yes, she sat in it, waved, and looked around expectantly. She was pulled around the living room by its child’s length rope and a hunched, harried parent, and disembarked satisfied.

Fast Forward to a couple of days ago with my first post “An Introduction.” As I had been typing, I heard her paging me to another room. I located her in the master bedroom. We usually keep it closed off from her, but the air conditioner works better if the air can flow through the house and I had left the door open. I didn’t expect too much destruction since she is never alone for more than a minute or so. No, not too much destruction; she had acquired a Royal Sled. Izzy had taken the clean clothes out of the laundry basket, climbed in, gave the royal wave, and looked around expectantly. I guess when she looked around expectantly and saw none of her entourage awaiting further orders, she had a moment of panic. Until she remembered how to raise her voice to summon said entourage. I pushed her about six feet, picked her up, and carried her out-closing the door behind us. Oy.

Now she’s on to bigger and better things: walking, trying to talk, and all the while keeping up with her Destruct-O quota! She’s a busy Izzy Bean. . .

The Royal Chariots

From left to right: The Royal Chariot (Original), The Royal Carpet Glider, The Royal Carriage, and The Royal Sled

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I’ve never considered myself a writer. When pressed, I can usually turn out a well written assignment. Writing for fun? Never. However, I’ve realized that our little nuclear family has been separated from the rest of our extended family for almost five years. Weekly phone calls aren’t much of a connection. Izzy is almost 15 months old, and her grandparents haven’t seen her since Thanksgiving. So, in an effort to keep everyone in the loop, I’m taking up this blogging thing. We’ll see how it goes. Even if no one reads these, I will at least have chronicled some of the small stuff that is so easily forgotten. I am going to begin with the present (why not?) and wander through memories or past things as I remember them.

Right now, Izzy is just waking up from her morning nap. After changing her diaper, she likes to stand on her changing table and play with the dimmer switch. She’ll pull the switch up or down and look at the light when she does. What makes it really cute is that she whispers, “Wow” in a serious voice as she does this. As we move into her playroom, there are toys galore scattered everywhere. She plays with some of them, but really likes the adult things. The car charger for one of our old cell phones is a particular favorite. Don’t ask me why. She’ll crawl around with that in her hand forever. The remote control for the TV and Juan’s old TiVo unit. She can turn both things on and mess with settings I can’t even access! However, when she wants to watch a movie, fix whatever she messed up, or demand something in general, out comes the Tim Allen impression. You know, the ,”Huh?” that he made famous? Well, imaging that about three octaves higher in pitch coming from a 15 month old dictator.

The “huh?” coming out of her mouth is a request (demand). It is up to us, her minions to figure out what it is and cater to her. She graciously gives us about five seconds to figure whatever she wants from us out. Than the “huh?”s become louder, higher pitched, and closer together; “Huh? HUH? HUH? HUH?!!!!” No pressure or anything. Right.

Speaking of the Baby Dictator, some pretty insistent “huh?”s are paging me to her room that she has been quietly destroying for the last five minutes. She probably wants me to open the closet door because she’s pulled everything out of the drawers and needs new order to destroy. Until the next installment. . .

Ciri

Five minutes later: Quick update: I actually found her in our bedroom. She had pulled the clean laundry to be folded out of the basket, climbed in, and was awaiting transportation in the Royal Chariot. Obviously, I should have used my mind reading powers to deduce that she was expecting me to shuttle her around.  Oy. The Royal Chariot(s) deserves its own post though. I’ll make it the subject of the next update.

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I’ve read Juan’s latest posts about Tropical Storm Hanna. What a disappointment. We were all geared up for this storm and all we got is some steady rain. Seriously, the power didn’t even go out! We’ve had worse thunder storms! It’s a good thing that it weakened so much. I didn’t really feel like having my house blown down or damaged, and I was concerned that if some serious stuff happened, I would get called in to work. That’s always a possibility in the Military. We’re supposed to be the ones to respond to catastrophes. As a vet tech, you can bet that we’d be dealing with the stray population and all the sick and injured animals. I could also get pulled to do basic people first aid and triage-since we are extensively trained in that respect as well. You know that it’s bad if vet techs are helping people! But, Hanna did not live up to her full potential. I’m glad to get to enjoy my weekend.

I get to go to the store and buy my books. But I have to finish this post first. So, here you go, hope you enjoy. And yes, Juan, I do type slow!

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