Notes on a day #6: Lame mothering edition

You know it's going to be one of those days when:

* You get to your son's first swimming lesson and realize his dry clothes and towel are neatly folded in a bag on the kitchen table 10 miles away. Nice.
* You get to your son's first swimming lesson 10 minutes early only to find out you were actually 10 minutes late. Even though I had on every conceivable calender scheduled "11:50 a.m.-12:10 p.m." the only thing stuck in my brain was that the lesson started at 12:10. Jack had nine minutes of his 20 minute lesson today. So, he got kicked out early and had nothing dry to wear. Thankfully, I always keep a blanket in the car. Just in case.
* You decide that your 11-month-old is responsible enough to feed himself a fruit cup and are dismayed when he rubs it all over his body. Because I didn't have 20 minutes poolside to feed the baby, I drained his peach cup and gave it to him while I drove home, hoping he would just dig in and eat. Lame. Move. Peaches head to toe and everywhere in between.
* You beg your 2-year-old in panties to use the potty and when she refuses, you think she must be OK. Potty training is the pits. Not three minutes later, a puddle appeared on the floor of the Dollar General where, ironically, we were buying stickers to put on the potty chart. "Mommy, I need to go potty." Frustrated, "I respond, "You just did, honey, I'll clean you up when we get to the car." "No, mommy," she says, "I need to use the potty in this grocery store." Frustrated, I respond, "It's too late." As we're walking out, I realized she added #2 to the puddle while we were standing there. My not listening cost Ellie a positive potty moment. Growl to me.

At this point, you throw in the towel and say, "Who wants ice cream?"

Finally, I got something right.

mobility +

Around 3 p.m., Tues., June 22, Robbie let go of a chair, giggled, and took four steps toward me. And he cut two teeth the night before -- which naturally explains his crying all night, but not the walking. No, the walking is just, um, the next step. It's exciting to watch him grow and go, but a a little sobering to ponder where the last 11 months have gone.

Be careful what you watch

No sweary-swearing on my blog. Sorry, it's so puritan of me, but I had to modify the promotional photo to the left. You see, as a fan of "The Biggest Loser" and someone who loves the idea of dancing (tried to get Bob to take lessons once. Total disaster.), I was intrigued by the idea of a show about people dancing to lose weight.

I am, after all, looking for summer laundry folding viewing material.

But come on, "Dance Your A*% Off?" Kind of coarse with tacky costumes, friends at Oxygen.

My advice, if you're looking for a summer show: Ladies No. 1 Detective Agency. I know I wrote about it a week ago but since then I actually had a chance to watch a full episode and I LOVED LOVED LOVED it! I guess I'll take my "traditionally built" with a little bit of African wit and wisdom this summer over whiny, fluffy folks mobile in spandex. Please join me.

The Princess and the Pee

Ellie recently, getting dirty, playing, loving her binky, helping Grandpa with the power drill, crafting with Jack and dancing. Ellie is always dancing.

My Little Ellie Bean is on my mind tonight. Maybe it's because she is proving to be a challenge to potty train or because she has become extremely verbal and just comes up with some zingers ("Binky, you stay right here while I go play.") Today, she woke from her nap to find it raining outside. I came upstairs to see what she was mumbling about. She turned, looked at me, tapped her window with her finger and said, "Mommy, you need to make this rain stop. Right. Now." I know I'm Mom and I'm supposed to make everything just happen, but yeah, I'll get right on that, sweet girl...

A few months ago, Ellie decided she wanted to use the potty. I don't think I was exactly ready but I jumped in to help her learn. Now, she is dragging her feet and no amount of enticement seems to be helping: Sticker chart, M&M's, a Poly Pocket Princess hanging out in it's box in the kitchen that she desperately wants but not badly enough to potty for it. Begging, pleading, sitting and reading "I Spy" -- the normal ones and the Princess variety -- books to her in the bathroom. Not working. Totally open to ideas. Today's score was Princess panties: 0. Ellie: 4. That includes the loss of the Princess Jasmine panties about a foot from the toilet. Doh! I'm starting to think she's trying to see how many princesses she can wear in a day.

Don't get me wrong, she's headstrong for sure, but she is tons of fun. Yesterday at the grocery store, I could hear her giggling loudly from the car attached to the front of the cart. I could also hear Jack saying, "Stop it, Ellie." I inspected and found her with her arms wrapped around him saying, "I love you Jack, hehehe. I looooovvveee you." It was sweet, but Ellie has long thought herself to be funny. There is no doubt in my mind she found something to annoy him that she knew she couldn't really get in trouble for, and she pursued it with vigor.

Just like wrestling in the last couple days. She intentionally tackles Jack, who isn't a fighter, and holds him down until he fights back. Tonight, he finally caught on. Go, go my little fighting girl!

Now, if we can just channel all this energy and enthusiasm for life to the potty...:)

Wow, boy, need a diet?

To recap: between Robbie's six and nine month check ups, he gained four ounces. This begat a couple months of specialists visits and special diets and much stress and worry.
A month ago, I threw all the very expensive medical advice out the window and gave the boy some string cheese. And I poured myself a glass of milk.
We're pleased to report between May 11 and June 11, young Robert gained 1lb, 9oz. Allow me to do the math: That's a hair more than six times the weight he had gained in the previous three months (maybe five. I can't remember at the moment how much weight he gained between four and six months and that's where his weight really stopped...). He's actually looking a little chubby to me.
And if you've read this far, you clearly care, so...he's also off the laxative. All systems go and we couldn't be more thrilled!