An Open Letter

Dear Lady at the Mall Play Area,

Hi.

Hello, there.

So, I know that you are hungry. I get that. I get hungry too. See how I am relating to you? But you know what I don't do? That would be take some canned tuna from my house, put it in a tupperware container (letting it get all steamy in my car) and schlep it to the mall only to eat it in the play area while my kid plays.

Look, you have two kids & so do I. Eating an uninterrupted meal is kind of like the Chupacabra; you seriously doubt it's existence all together because it is so rarely documented. But don't you think maybe you should just not? Eat something that smells like rotten grossness? Cause here is the thing; we are at the play area at the mall. It already smells like recess because there a zillion kids running crazy in here because this is a teensy escape from the terrible heat outside. But that should really just heighten your sensitivity since we are all trying not to barf from your putrid tuna smell on top of the fact our kids are playing, barefoot, in a petrie dish for germs. We are already nauseous, we don't need any help.

To be fair, I will give you a pass this time. This time.  Let's face it; every one of us sitting inside of the play area remembers the pre-child promise we made to ourselves that we would 'never let our kids play in that germ-fest', not knowing the need to run some energy out of our kids would trump anything. I think it all stems from the high probability of pooping in front of people during having said children breaks down our list of "I never's"  faster than we Purell our entire body upon leaving the play area.

So let's just take it down a notch. I'll chalk this up as giving you a Mom Warning and be done with it. But, just so you know, if this happens again I'm gonna have to get physical. And by that, I mean I'm going to "accidentally" spill your seafood feast all over the floor when I bump in to you while leaving. And by that, I mean I will probably do nothing but maybe blog about it later. Cause I'm passive-aggressive like that.

Damn it.

Sincerely,
Janie

Re-Run

So, you know how the past often repeats itself? Yeah, well it has in the Tilly house!

Summer is in full swing here in Houston and it's hotter than the surface of the sun and it feels all Amazon-jungley. And with the combination of Alex being 3 and having a newborn, we "don't get out" much. Now I will admit that I am loving Alex's new found love for the "Toy Story" movies over "Yo, Gabba, Gabba" because they are hilarious and I cry every.single.time. I watch the third one, whereas "Gabba" creeped me out because of DJ Lance's skin tight orange jumpsuit. (I mean, how skinny is he?? He looks about 80 pounds on camera.....on camera!)

Anyway, my point is that I am lacking a little adult interaction. Hence when the Escobar Telecom Guy called the other day asking my opinion for their book about rating a local company or something. He asked about some recent home services I had had done or whatever and if "I-was-happy-about-my-service" this and could "I-rate-the-company" that.

Until he made a big mistake.

Big.

Huge.  (Yes, said in "Pretty Woman" voice)

He started to ask me if there were any other companies I could rate and that opened the flood gates. What was this? An adult wanting to talk? About things that were not poop, jelly sandwiches or Buzz Lightyear?? Let me tell you, I was all about letting him know about how pleased I was with John Moore pest control. And Window World. And Lance's Artificial Lawns. And some gutter company I may have made up.

Let's just say I was all too eager, put on a cartoon for the kiddo and, well, bless his heart, he eventually had to cut me off.

It was a sad situation that I had played out before.

Multi- Tasking at It's Finest

So, before I had Bennett I knew I was going to give another shot at breasfeeding. I breastfed Alex, but only made is for about four months. He started to sleep longer at night really quickly (lucky right?) and it really dipped my supply. I wasn't about to give up sleep to get up and pump, so that resulted in him eating, like, every hour during the day because I wasn't 'filling up' enough for him to get full. So off to formula we went. I was fine with it and so was he.

Naturally, I was a little curious how breastfeeding Bennett would go. Not just from my experience with Alex, but because I was honestly curious how it would go while having Alex here too. He's a little, um, spirited and when left to his own devices tends to get into things. Everything. We had to strip his bedroom of anything he could climb, toys he could use as a step stool or any potential projectile. It looks like a padded cell at a mental hospital.

But it's actually going pretty well. I actually know what I am doing this time around so when Bennett was born I was prepared; unlike when Alex was placed in my arms and I looked down at him and expected him to just know what to do. I may have even said something like "Alright, go at it" or something equally as nurturing. However, Bennett eats every three hours, day or night. It's pretty easy to set your watch too. And since life doesn't stop just because the kiddo needs to eat, I am pretty surprised about what I can get done while feeding him so I made a little list.

• Picking up the house; putting toys away, straightening up. Making the bed was interesting the first couple times. Alex helps me with this one so I can't take all the credit.
• Unloading the dishwasher; it gets a little tricky with the knives, but nobody has lost a finger. Yet. Maybe this one isn't such a good idea on second thought.
• Laundry; I'm not sure this one counts since I can sit down while I'm doing some of it. 
• Getting Alex dressed; my best showing was getting him in to a swim diaper and swimsuit. I'm still proud of that one.
• Cooking if off limits, though. I went to grab some stuff to make salad the other night and Luke looked horrified. He asked that I not feed him while I handle food. Can't say that I blame him. After I heard that though, I realized I should have been breastfeeding anything with a mouth for the last three years if it got me out of cooking. 

I know it won't be this easy forever since Bennett will keep getting bigger. I mean, he is eating all the time.  But I think I can also get a little more creative, so we will see.

And if my post the other day didn't send the good behavior karma my way, I was attacked with this while getting us all loaded in to the car the next day. Please ignore Alex's homeless-boy hair.

And would you look who has started smiling?

So, you know how we all need great friends to go shopping with, or listen to us talk about how great The Hunger Games is or tell us how we aren't fat? And sometimes we need friends that can just let us vent and gripe and convince us we aren't alone? Well, I totally have awesome friends who have heard all about how I abandon my family for four days while I jumped on the Hunger Games bandwagon, and now I need someone to tell me I am not a crazy, crap mom.

Here is the thing, most days I really am disillusioned enough to think I have got my stuff together on this "mom of two" thing. The laundry is done, the house is clean, we have all showered and Alex doesn't look homeless and its 'll on a combined five hours of sleep. Most days I can really walk around with the confidence of a woman wearing white in a tampon commercial.

Then there are the days that I don't. Cause see, Alex is 3.

3.

Ugh.

For the most part, when we are out in public Alex's toddler-ness does't really phase me. Like when Alex (total example, this did not happen last week; after school; after getting both of the boys out in the rain) reaches for the ceramic piggy bank at the 'kids table' at Central Market and drops it on the ground a second before I can grab it from him, of course, shattering on the ground. Or almost flips out when I unjustly make him hold my hand in the parking lot causing everyone in a four block radius to stare. But that doesn't bother me. I am of the firm belief that if it isn't your kid acting out now, it will be eventually. It's just the odds. So I always try to give any other moms a smile when I see their kiddo being as all over the place as mine.

What gets me is at home. It's like we fight all.day.long. Not even kidding. I am constantly riding his little fanny about everything. Everything. Not to crawl in the dryer; to stop spitting; to stop feeding the dog raisins (that are poisonous). Nothing that seems out of line to get on to him about, but clearly is due to his horrific reaction. And while he was away last weekend with his grandparents and they reassured me he was polite and well behaved (so it might actually be working), at home it's enough to make me want to stab myself in the eye by 2pm.

Look, I know parenting and motherhood isn't about what the parent gets out of it and I'm down with that. But what kills me, is that while I read all these great and lovely blogs nary a ONE has anything but smiling siblings and family photos filled with toothy grins. Surely MY darling angel isn't the only one on the planet who tries to stuff toys up his baby brother's nose or throws a fit over getting dressed because, evidently, it will end his life? Can it really just be my sweet Alex that melts down every.time. I don't let him play in the car after I unbuckle him because it is hotter than the surface of the sun outside and I 'm sweating like a hog? Am I feeding him too much Red dye no. 2? Is this just normal? Is there a band of three year olds out there that conspire at night on the twitter feeds what the 'new' way to act out is?

I've tried time outs on the stairs, time outs in his room, taking toys away, ignoring and redirecting and nothing seems to phase him. The only thing I haven't tried is leaving him in the parking lot with a note tied to his shirt. I'm saving that one for later. What else can I be doing? I mean, other than look down at my sweet new baby and think, "Am I really in for three more years of this?"

Luke is really helpful and has saved my butt so many times. It's like the two of them have their own language and it's called "Oh-it's-dad-so-now-I-can-calm-down-and-be-normal-and-do-whatever-I-just-faught-with-mom-about-for-a-half-hour". And while at the end of the day the situation is resolved and we have moved past the unpleasantness, it always leaves me feeling completely inept and like I need Luke to step in and do my job.  Or have a cocktail at 9am.

So if you know of any 'warts and all' blogs, send them my way because sometimes misery loves company and sometimes we just need to know we aren't the only ones who hear "NO! Go, mommy, go!" before their toddler attempts to fling a dirty diaper at you.